The Advent Calendar (12 page)

Sand drifted over most of the ground but underneath the stones were sharp. Sam and Alice slowly picked their way barefoot across the dry ground and up the hill into the ruins of the great temple. They were clearly following an ancient pathway. As they drew near to the very centre, Alice saw, to her amazement, a tiny plant growing by the side of the path.

‘Col – look. Something does grow.’

Col knelt by the side of the pathway and examined the small plant. Carefully he broke off a few leaves and gave them to Sam and Alice. ‘Taste them,’ he said. Sam placed one on his tongue. He immediately screwed up his face. ‘A bitter taste,’ he said. ‘Sharp and unpleasant.’

Col led them now to the very centre of the ruins. At the top of the hill was a stone altar, cracked with age. As they approached it, a single cloud for a moment shut out the sun and the hill was plunged into shadow. Alice saw as they came nearer that there was something white on the top of the great stone.

Col stood back, his head bowed, and motioned for them to approach. ‘Don’t be afraid.’

The air was still, now. Sam and Alice drew near to the altar. At its very centre was a lamb, lying still on the stone. Its throat had been cut. The lamb’s body was still warm. Its blood ran down over the altar and into the cracks.

‘Col!’ cried Alice, turning round with tears in her eyes. ‘What has happened? Who has done this?’

‘Turn around, child,’ said Col. ‘Look on the east side.’

Alice took Sam’s hand and together they moved around the altar from the west side to the east, not knowing what they were looking for. Alice saw it first.

In the middle of the east side of the altar, flowing down like a tear from one of the stone cracks was a trickle of water. Where the water met the ground, as Alice watched, it became a tiny stream, finding its own pathway over the stony ground. Where the stream touched the dry ground, almost in an instant, the ground on each side began to turn green before their eyes as new things began to grow.

‘Follow it,’ said Col, excitement in his voice.

Sam and Alice set off down the hill, following the tiny thread of water, which deepened as it flowed. Now it was tumbling and bubbling, like a tiny brook, catching and reflecting the sunlight. The cloud which shut out the light was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

They moved as fast as they could but it was hard to walk on the stony ground, and the little stream of water outstripped them. Alice looked back and saw that plants were appearing now behind her in a green ribbon on each side of the water, spreading outwards.

They walked on for ten or fifteen minutes, hobbling with sore feet now. Sam wondered again why they had left their shoes and socks back at the balloon. Bit by bit the stream grew larger and wider, gaining confidence and strength as it went on. Col pointed to a stone by the side of the river bed: it read ‘1,000 cubits’. The stream was now a metre wide.

‘Come and paddle,’ Col said, standing in the centre of the stream. Sam and Alice followed him. The water was cool and gentle on their sore feet. It came up to their ankles. They bent down, scooped up the water in their hands and drank.

‘Forward,’ said Col and led them on again. The green ribbon on each side of the stream was wider now, stretching away on either side. There was grass to walk on and wild flowers. Walking was much easier. A second stone read ‘2,000 cubits’. Again Col led Alice and Sam into the water. This time it came up to their knees.

They set off again. Fields now stretched away on either side. Alice looked carefully. The greenery was spreading out into the desert, almost as far as she could see. The next sign said ‘3,000 cubits’. ‘Time to get wet again,’ said Col and led them into the water.

Now the stream was fast-flowing and deep. Sam and Col stood each side of Alice. The water was up to Sam’s waist and Alice’s chest. Unsupported, she would have been washed away. They came out again and picked their way along the bank. Oats and barley were ripening now in the fields. To Alice’s surprise she could see men and women and children working there. Their songs reached them as they arrived at the final milestone: 4,000 cubits.

Col led them again into the water, roped together for safety, but this time, it was clear, the river was deeper and wider than anyone could cross. Sam and Alice could both swim but neither ventured very far into the current. The water was clear and cold: good for a dip but too cold to swim for long. Both of them dived down under the current. To their surprise, now it was teeming with fish of every kind.

Sam led Alice back to the bank and they collapsed, out of breath, on the shore. Together with Col, they sat and looked with astonishment at the far bank and then to the right and to the left and back the way they had come. Already, trees were growing by the rivers bank. Col reached out and gathered ripe fruit to refresh them. Sam bit into a peach: it was sweet and ripe and the juice ran down his chin.

Alice gazed about her for a few minutes, drinking in the sight, contrasting it with the barren country over which they had flown in the balloon. She stood to get a better view. ‘Ouch,’ she said. ‘These cuts on my feet really hurt.’

‘Let me look,’ said Col. Both Alice and Sam showed him the soles of their feet: cut and blistered from the long walk. ‘Hold on a moment.’

Col went a little way into the orchard on their side of the river and came back moments later with a handful of leaves. ‘Try these,’ he said, lifting each foot in turn and laying a leaf across the cuts. To Alice it felt cool and soothing, like a dock leaf on nettle stings.

‘Look now,’ said Col. Sam and Alice looked, rubbed their eyes and rubbed again. The soles of their feet were like new. Even Alice’s verruca scar had gone. ‘The river renews the whole earth,’ he said. ‘Even the salt lakes turn fresh when it touches them. The leaves of the trees are for healing and for rest.’

‘Healing and rest,’ thought Alice, dreamily, stretching out in the warm sunlight and closing her eyes.

The next moment, as it seemed, Megs was shaking her by the shoulders. ‘Alice, Sam, wake up. Andrew’s just gone. He’s asked me to go with him to his club dinner. And I’ve said yes.’

She kissed Alice. Sam rubbed his eyes. ‘Thanks for giving us a bit of peace, love. But what have you done with your shoes? And why, oh why is the window wide open on a night like this?’

Sam and Alice looked at each other and their bare feet and smiled. ‘Goodness knows where Col has left our shoes,’ thought Alice. Sam was staring at the calendar up close.

The blue door stood open. Inside the tiny space was the grey side of a stone altar, standing on brown sand. Running down the side of the table, like a raindrop on a window, was the beginning of a mighty river.

12 December

There was a light tap on the bedroom door. Alice rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. Six o’clock in the morning? The tap came again, more insistent.

Without turning on the light, she struggled into her dressing gown and opened the door.

‘Col! What are you doing here?’

Col pressed his fingers to his lips. ‘Special day,’ he mouthed, barely whispering the words. ‘Early start. Meant to warn you but forgot. Sorry!’

‘I’ll get dressed and meet you in the lounge,’ Alice mouthed back. ‘You wake Sam.’

Col held out his thumb sideways on and smiled. Alice raised her eyes to heaven. ‘This way,’ she said, indicating her own thumb which was pointing upwards. Col grinned, put up both thumbs and tiptoed across to Sam’s door.

Muffled groans found their way across the landing. ‘Festering flamingos’ was all she caught before Sam’s voice was choked off by Col’s signal.

Alice drew back the curtains as she got dressed and gasped. There was a white covering on every surface. The snow glowed orange under the streetlamps. The light picked out the frosted cobwebs on the drainpipe outside her room. ‘Christmas is beginning to arrive,’ she thought, pulling on her warmest jumper and socks.

Sam and Col were already in the front room when she went downstairs. Sam was in his warmest jumper and scarf but barely awake. He shone the light from his phone onto the calendar. A new door had appeared in the three o’clock position, a wooden one with an arched top, matching the one on Day Six.

‘This is the second test,’ said Col, in a soft, serious voice. ‘There is one at the end of every section. It’s also my last day with you. If you pass this test, you will go onto the next part of the calendar and a new guide. If you don’t, there will be no more text messages and no more doors. I hope you make it. You need to take this.’

Col handed over his staff. Sam took it. Then he shook both of them by the hand, rather solemnly Alice thought. ‘Read out the code, Sam,’ she said.

‘Four,’ said Sam. Alice punched in the number. ‘Three,’ he called. Click. ‘Colon.’ Click. Each button stayed in place. ‘Two.’ Alice paused for a moment with her right index finger over the button. She took a final look at the room, at the calendar, at Col. She took Sam’s right hand in her left and pressed the number two.

There was a sharp crack of thunder. Time seemed to slow for a moment. Something like a bolt of lightning shot from the calendar and landed at their feet. Instantly the front room and everything familiar disappeared.

Alice and Sam were on their own again. It was early morning. The sun was rising to the east. They were standing in the centre of a wide pathway. In one direction, to the west, was a wilderness of scrub and thorn bushes stretching for miles. In the other was what looked like a lake or even the sea. The road ran down to the edge of the water and disappeared.

There was a low, rumbling sound coming from the wilderness.

‘Whatever it is, it must be this way,’ said Sam, pointing into the wilderness and away from the sea with the staff. ‘Let’s get going!’

‘Wait, Sam!’ called Alice, who was much more awake. ‘It’s a test, remember. We need to think about this one.’ She looked around her in the dawn light.

The rumbling sound was growing louder. A line of dust appeared on the western horizon. Sam remembered the Westerns he watched as a child. He bent down and put his ear to the ground. He was suddenly grim.

‘Horses,’ he said, standing back up again and pointing, ‘lots of them, coming this way.’ They both looked west. They could see now beneath the great dust cloud. The sun picked out the shields and weapons of a great army. Alice and Sam were standing in its exact path.

Alice felt the panic rising. She stood as still as she could, watched and listened. Nothing but the rumbling across the plain growing louder. She shook herself, then began to take a closer look at the edges of the pathway.

‘There!’ she said. ‘How could we miss them – one on each side?’

Just behind them, clearer now in the dawn light, were two low stone pillars, one on each side of the path. Alice went to one and Sam to the other. On each was a great stone arrow pointing to the east. The entire surface of the pillars was covered in carved writing. Alice ran her fingers over the letters.

‘None of it makes sense,’ she called.

‘It’s all different languages,’ said Sam. ‘The same thing, I think, over and over again. Come on, we need to get out of the open. They’re coming straight towards us.’

‘We need to know what it says,’ Alice called back. ‘It’s important.’

She tried to shut out the sound of hoof beats and wheels in the distance and focused instead on the shapes carved in the stone. Sam did the same but kept one eye on the western horizon.

‘Here,’ she called. ‘Words in English.’ Sam was beside her in a moment. The words were near the bottom of the stone. ‘Stretch the rod over the sea. Don’t be afraid.’

Sam glanced back. He could pick out individual riders now. He estimated they had about three minutes. ‘Don’t be stupid, Alice. We have to run. Now!’

Sam tried to pull her away to the side out of the path of the army. Alice pulled back.

‘Sam, it’s a test. Remember what Col said. You’ve got the staff. Follow the words on the stone.’

Sam looked out over the sea, down at his niece and then back at the advancing army. He felt absolutely terrified.

‘Please,’ said Alice, taking his hand. ‘Remember all that’s happened. I want to see the end.’ She pulled him gently towards the sea.

In a moment, Sam’s mind was made up. ‘Madness! Whispering wombats!’ he said, then ran after Alice towards the sea as fast as he could.

The thunder of the hooves was louder now. Alice looked back and saw a line of cruel faces galloping towards her. ‘Stretch out the staff, Sam.’

Sam arrived, breathless. He held Col’s staff stretched out over the calm sea, pointing straight at the rising sun. A light breeze touched his cheek and ruffled his hair. He braced himself as, in a moment, the breeze turned into a mighty wind at his back, rushing out over the waters. As it passed over the sea, to Alice’s amazement, the waters separated, towering on either side and a pathway appeared beneath the waves.

‘Come on,’ she called over the wind. ‘Now or never.’ Alice ran ahead into the gap left by the waves. A second later, Sam lowered the staff and followed. The path was about as wide as a country lane. The waters were piled up on each side like enormous hedges, each as high as a house. The wind rushed and swirled down the alleyway, keeping the two walls of water apart long enough for them to pass through. The passageway in the sea stretched ahead of them. The path at their feet was made of cobbles, slightly raised above the bed of the sea. Others had been this way before them, Alice thought.

The crossing took about ten minutes. Neither of them wanted to linger. As they got to the far shore, the waters closed behind them, surged and swirled for a few moments and then were still. Alice and Sam looked back over the great sea. The army had stayed on the far side, the horses pawing the ground in frustration, the riders waving their spears in anger.

Beneath their feet the cobbled path stretched away to the east.

Alice took Sam’s hand. ‘Narrow escape,’ she said.

‘Is that it, do you think? said Sam.

‘Dunno,’ Alice replied, ‘but I think we need to keep moving.’

The ground rose steeply on this side of the sea. The path wound up the sides of a mountain. Alice led the way. On the right side of the pathway Alice found another stone pillar similar to the first one. They knelt to examine it, hoping for a sign. This one was engraved with large ancient writing with moss growing in the lines of the letters but, whatever it said, it was in a language neither of them could understand. Twenty minutes later, as they climbed higher up the mountain, there was a second pillar, this time to the left, then a third and a fourth.

Alice and Sam were growing weary by this time. At the sixth and seventh pillar again they stopped, hoping for some kind of sign. Alice longed for something to eat or drink. It was now the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. Both were carrying the jumpers they had needed in the dawn.

They reached the eighth pillar. Sam again ran his fingers over the surface of the rock. Each inscription was different. Alice’s eyes fell on a large rock a few metres to the left. ‘Sam! Look!’ she called. ‘There is writing on the rock.’

Amongst the lines of carved letters there were again languages she recognised if not understood. They searched together with their fingers for something they could understand.

‘Here,’ said Sam. ‘Strike me!’

Alice picked up the staff and aimed it at Sam. He leapt back. ‘Not me you great bullfrog. It must mean strike the rock.’

‘Sorry, Sam,’ said Alice through parched lips. ‘Tired.’

She picked up the staff again in both hands and swung it down onto the rock. Instead of bouncing off the hard surface, to her surprise, the rock gave way and the staff sunk in, splitting the stone. Alice leapt back in surprise.

‘What happened?’ she croaked.

‘Come and see,’ said Sam, bending forward in amazement.

Bubbling up from the rock in the place where Col’s staff had landed there was a spring of water. It quickly flowed into and filled a small hollow at the base of the great stone. Sam knelt down, cupped the water in his hands and bent to drink. Alice did the same.

‘That’s very good,’ she said, ‘very good indeed.’ They both splashed the water on their faces and arms and then drank some more. They sat together on either side of the spring, resting in the midday heat and looking back over the vast plain. With her eyes Alice followed the cobbled path along which they had come back to the edge of the sea and to where it emerged at the other side. It stretched away in the distance as far as she could see across the barren plain.

‘Ready to go on?’ asked Sam, looking across at his niece.

‘Guess so,’ said Alice, her eyes brightening. ‘There must be something at the top of the mountain.’

Again they set off with Sam carrying the staff. There were two more rocks on the way to the top – both very old, both with the writing that neither of them could understand. And then, almost at the very top of the mountain, the path ended not at the summit or with another stone pillar but at the mouth of a small cave, just a hollow carved from the rock with a small stone bench set back from the entrance. Near the entrance to the cave was a large bush, the only living thing they had seen on the entire mountain, somehow clinging to the rock, managing just to stay alive.

‘Is this it?’ said Alice.

Sam sensed the danger a moment before Alice, grabbed her arm and pulled her inside the cave. All around them the very ground itself started to shake and tremble. There was first a low roaring coming from the heart of the mountain and then sharp cracks in every direction. Cautiously, Sam peered out of the cave. The whole mountainside was moving. With each large crack a vent opened in the earth and a spurt of steam shot skywards. Back down the path, Sam could see the sides of the mountain were trembling as if half the mountainside was about to break away and tumble into the valley below.

Neither of them could remember how long the earthquake lasted. To Alice, it seemed as if the ground beneath her had been trembling for hours and hours. She closed her eyes, clung onto the stone bench and hoped it would end. It was all she could do not to run back down the mountain. She gripped Sam’s hand tightly in one hand and Col’s staff in the other. The cave shook and trembled like a boat on a choppy sea.

At last, gradually, the quake subsided and the earth was still. The mountain was solid again beneath their feet. Sam first then Alice stepped out of the cave and onto the pathway. Both of them looked back down the cobbled path which was still intact despite the tremors. On either side there were new shapes and configurations from the ones they had passed. Suddenly Alice gripped Sam’s arm and pointed to the west.

‘Back in the cave, Alice, quickly!’ They retreated as far inside the cave as they could go.

Rushing in from the west covering the sky like a blanket was a mass of dark clouds: an ominous, threatening storm was approaching. A moment later the rain lashed the ground outside their cave falling to earth like rods of steel and creating instant streams in the gaps between the cobbles. Sam pulled his jumper on. Alice huddled against him for warmth and comfort. The wind at the heart of the storm whistled and roared over their heads circling round and round the cave. There were crashes of thunder overhead every ten seconds or so. Sheet lightning floodlit the horizon. Hailstones the size of peanuts rattled on the roof of the cave, covering the ground with an instant white carpet.

Sam had been in storms before but nothing like this. Watching the horizon from a distance would have been spectacular: creation’s firework display on a massive canvas. But this was an intense, terrifying exposure to the power at the heart of the natural world. All of his senses were assaulted at once: the chill of the rain and hail; the sound of wind, rain and thunder; the changing tapestry of dark clouds; the smell of his own terror caught in an unknown world with only a small cave as protection against the elements.

The storm’s ferocity mounted minute by minute. To Alice it seemed as though it would never end and the whole of her life would be caught in its eye. Her teeth shook with the cold and with fear and then, suddenly, there was a massive explosion close to the mouth of the cave which rocked her back further against the wall. In the same instant the wind dropped, the rain ceased, the clouds began to part.