The Kicking Tree

by Trevor Stubbs

  “Yes. If we can,” shouted Jalli. And he was gone. Jalli and Jack stood hand in hand staring for several minutes. Eventually Jack said:

  “I’d better phone Mum.”

  “And I Grandma. What time is it?”

  “Four thirty.”

  “Perhaps I ought to go home. I didn’t say I was going overnight.”

  “Right. Mum’ll be wondering too. She doesn’t worry as much as she did because she is sure I’m with you and you’ll keep me out of trouble. You’ll come back tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow at ten. I’ll miss you Jack Smitt!”

  “Come here and let me kiss you.”

  “Be careful. My arm!”

  “Is it getting any easier?”

  “Well, a bit. But it still hurts a real lot.”

  “I hope you sleep tonight.”

  “I’m so tired I think it will take more than a painful arm to keep me awake.”

  *

  But that night Jalli did wake several times. Although the pain had eased it was still sore when she washed in the morning. She hadn’t told Grandma – she didn’t want to worry her.

  *

  Jack lay awake thinking of Johnson on his island for over five years. He imagined how he would feel if he could not get back into the cottage garden. How he would miss his Jalli if he couldn’t see her for just five days! And Johnson had been parted from his wife for five years. She probably thought he was dead. He had no way of communicating.

  Jack prayed for him – but he didn’t acknowledge to himself that it was prayer. He questioned the Owner of the white gates. Was giving him a bit of a diversion worth it all? It might only have made things worse for him – made him more anxious and less patient. Or given him hope which came to nothing.

  But in fact he need not have worried. Johnson was like a new man. He had had contact with human beings once more and they hadn’t run away from him in disgust. When he got back to his hut he remembered he had offered them goat and yam. Perhaps another day. They hadn’t stayed long enough, he thought.

  He resolved to speak to himself and practice talking every day. He regretted not asking for a kettle! He would love to have boiled water and made some tea – but perhaps it might not be good to boil his leaves. The fruit was a real treat. He carefully kept each pip and the pineapple top. He wondered if he would be allowed to go through the white gate again. That night was his second restless one in two days. He was just too excited to sleep.

  *

  Ten o’clock came the next day and Jalli and Jack were already in the cottage garden. Jalli’s arm was much better. Johnson had been right – two days. They resolved to go back and see him the day after next if the gate was still there.

  “We must take him a set of cooking pots, and some matches,” volunteered Jalli.

  *

  The gate, the shed and the old clothes were indeed still there when Jalli puffed into the cottage garden with a small set of pans and a big box of matches that she had bought in Wanulka. She had carried them further than she had intended because, although the shop was not far from the Municipal Gardens, just as she had emerged from the shop, she had spotted Maik Musula. She had quickly disappeared back inside, had waited for him to pass, and then had gone in the opposite direction – a route that had taken her out of her way.

  Having heard the story, Jack sighed playfully, “Well, I suppose you want me to carry them up the cliff then?”

  “I expect nothing less from a ‘perfect gentleman’.”

  Jack pretended to look around, “But he doesn’t appear to be with us!”

  “Well, you’ll have to do then!” she kissed him on the cheek. Then, in a flurry of flying cooking pans, Jack swept her up and swung her round before setting her down gently on the grass and collapsing beside her.

  “I do so love you, Jalli Rarga. It was a brilliant idea these pans. He can cook all sorts of things properly. I reckon if I were a castaway I would like a knife first, and then a cooking pot. Well, after you of course!”

  “Then you wouldn’t be a real castaway.”

  “No. You’re right. I do hope that Johnson finds his Jane one day.”

  “Come on. Let’s get changed. I reckon I can tie these pans together and sling them on my back.” But when they were tied Jack took them and wouldn’t hear of Jalli carrying them past the white gate.

  “I was only teasing you! I can take them!” But Jack had already settled them on his back.

  *

  Twenty minutes later they were half way up the cliff. “Knowing the climb doesn’t make it any easier,” grunted Jack as they paused for breath. The day was bright, the sea a patchwork of blues and purples under a rich blue sky that grew bluer the more you looked up. There was the sound of gulls, the smashing of the waves on the rocks, and the rattle of pebbles as the sea drew back for another surge. They sat on a small patch of grass beneath a battered bush and became aware of the gentle buzz of bees skipping from flower to flower. Close to the ground, out of the wind, the scent of herbs and pollen lingered and the sound of the sea crashing on the rocks was softened.

  “This is lovely,” declared Jack. “I do like the seaside.”

  A waft of some sweet smelling bushes came up from a little hollow to their left. Jack stood up to explore it and his eye caught sight of something on the horizon. It had been unbroken every time they had looked out before. But now he thought he saw something there.

  “Look, Jalli, look!”

  “What? What am I looking at?”

  “There, on the horizon! Isn’t that a ship?”

  “Where? I can’t… yes! Yes! I see it.”

  “Which way is it going?”

  “No idea.”

  “Quick, let’s light the beacon. Johnson can’t see this. It’s on the wrong side of the island.”

  “But, shouldn’t we go down and tell him?”

  “There may not be time.”

  They clambered up the last few metres at top speed, and ran to the beacon.

  “Is it still there?” shouted Jack.

  “Yes. But it seems to be moving to the right.”

  Jack checked the heap. It was really dry. He gave thanks for the matches they had brought. He gathered a few dry pieces of grass and little sticks, set them at the base of the pile and struck a match. But he couldn’t get it to catch.

  “Let me.” Jalli came forward with a heap of dry scrub and dead leaves. “I think these will be better.” She pushed them lightly under the windward side and Jack passed her the matches. It lit first time.

  “Wow! Great!” danced Jack.

  “Thank you kind sir. Useful as well as beautiful you see!”

  Jack then carefully poured some water from one of the bottles onto a thick branch and propped it against the heap. It hissed and steam and smoke started to emanate from the fire. They did this with a few more pieces. They were now standing beside quite a blaze, but with only a tiny whiff of smoke.

  “Some smoke but not enough,” despaired Jack.

  “That grass. The sort you couldn’t get to burn. Put that on!” commanded Jalli.

  She gathered a bundle and threw it against the bonfire. The fire protested and started to issue clouds of pungent smoke.

  “More!” shouted Jack. They scooped armfuls of the grass from all around as quickly as they could and soon they had billows of acrid smoke. Jalli ranged around gathering as much as she could and Jack kept piling it on.

  “The ship!” skipped Jalli. “I think it’s turning. It’s bigger and it’s stopped going to the right!” Jack emerged spluttering from the smoke.

  “I think you’re right.” Jack grabbed the coconut leaf mat and did his best to make smoke signals. It was easier to say than to do! But he did make a difference in the smoke flow. Jalli came back with even more grass. After five minutes there was sea between the ship and the horizon. Whatever it was it was definitely coming their way. Jack and Jalli hugged one another.

  “You go down to Johnson. Tell him!” suggested Jack. �
�You can be far quicker than me. I’ll stay here and keep the fire going.”

  Jalli leaped down the hillside in the direction of the beach but she didn’t get beyond the garden because Johnson had already seen the blaze and was bounding his way up.

  “A ship! a ship!” yelled Jalli.

  Johnson yelled back. “I knew you had come to rescue me. You are… wonderful!” He shook her hand vigorously and they both ran back up the slope.

  At the top of the cliff he stood and stared for moment, then jumped about like a young child. The shape of the ship was now easily discernible and it was heading straight for them!

  “Go back to the beach,” said Jack. “Jalli and I will stay here and when they spot us Jalli will run down your side so that they know to go round the island. I will stay on the top here and keep them in sight.”

  Soon Jack was able to make out a white ship that reminded him of a cross-channel ferry advert he had seen at the railway station in Persham. As it approached the island it turned to the right and they waved hard. Then Jalli disappeared over the hill. By the time Jalli had reached the beach the ship was visible coming round the headland. Johnson had made another smoky fire on the beach. The ship anchored outside the reef. After what seemed a long time a small inflatable dinghy was lowered and then they could hear the sound of an outboard motor starting up.

  The rescue was somewhat of an anticlimax. Three men dragged the boat up the sand as a fourth stood armed and ready, watching. Johnson indicated to Jalli to put her arms up in the air and walk out onto the beach. Two men approached while the others stood and watched. Jack came running onto the beach too and, seeing the situation, stopped still. He yelled. “We’re safe! No-one else here!”

  By this time two men had reached Johnson and Jalli, and shouted they were unarmed.

  A third approached Jack. Then one of the men spoke and Johnson smiled. He could understand. “Five years,” he said, “five years!”

  It took some time to explain that Jack and Jalli did not need rescuing, but after some discussion the four men shrugged their shoulders and indicated Johnson to board the dinghy.

  “Do you want to take anything with you?” asked Jack.

  “No, leave it all here. If anyone else ever gets washed up here it will give them a start!”

  “What is the day, the date?” asked Jalli of the crew.

  “The third of the eighth. Good luck!” grunted one of the sailors. They really couldn’t make out why only one of three people needed rescuing. Johnson took Jalli and Jack into his arms. “Thank you. Thank you. You… certainly been sent – by God. You tell Him… I once doubted Him, I don’t now!”

  “We will. But you can tell Him yourself,” said Jalli.

  “I know. I can talk to Him. In my heart!” They pulled the boat out beyond the surf and Johnson got in. As they were rowing out to the ship Jalli shouted, “Give our love to Jane!”

  “I will, I will!” waved Johnson.

  They saw Johnson climb onto the ship. They stood together, hand-in-hand and watched until it disappeared round the headland. Then Jalli noticed that Jack’s face was covered with tears. She bent up and kissed him. “I was just thinking. I couldn’t have managed here for five years on my own.”

  “Yes, you could. But it would be nicer with two.”

  “That sounds like Pooh.”

  “Pooh?”

  “Winnie the Pooh by A. A. Milne. Pooh Bear has friends, like Piglet. He says ‘It’s nicer with two’, and it is.”

  “You must tell me stories about Pooh.”

  “They’re children’s stories.”

  “I like children’s stories. Sometimes they are the best.”

  “OK.”

  They went to the little camp and tidied things up. Jalli climbed a short coconut palm, not as dexterously as Johnson but pretty well for a beginner, and cut down two green nuts. Jack fumbled with the knife to cut the top and that took even longer – but the reward was the cool, sweet, tangy liquid that once tasted is never forgotten. It was strange being in this place without Johnson. Jack began telling the stories of Winnie the Pooh and friends – Piglet, Kanga, Roo, Eeyore, Tiger, Owl, Rabbit and Rabbit’s “friends and relations”. He made different voices for all the characters.

  “You are great at telling stories. You should do it all the time. You should have lots of children to tell stories to.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need your help.”

  “My help?”

  “To have children!”

  “Well… perhaps… But not yet! I don’t think I have stopped being a child myself yet.”

  “Now how am I to reply to that!? I’ll be in trouble if I agree! But, somehow, I think being a mixture of being grown up and still being a child in some ways is something we should always be. I like you as you are, Jalli Rarga. Being here reminds me of Wendy and Peter Pan.”

  “Who are they?”

  “More fictional characters. Peter Pan was a boy who never grew up. He lived in Neverland which was a kind of island and one day went and got Wendy and her brother Michael and taught them to fly. They flew to Neverland populated by lost boys and Red Indians. J. M. Barry wrote it in the nineteenth century.”

  “So you must tell me this story too. We have something like that in Wanulka. Amanu and Zrura. Amanu never stops being young, but sadly Zrura grows up and is too old to play childhood games. It’s a bit sad really.”

  “Why does Zrura have to grow up?”

  “I don’t know. But I think the question you are supposed to ask is, why doesn’t Amanu grow up?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Because he doesn’t want to.”

  “And that’s not good. I think you have to grow – as a person I mean – because if you don’t it means you have never learnt anything. Learning things means you change.”

  “Have you changed since we met? We had so many things to learn.”

  “I have. I think Grandma finds me almost unrecognisable. You have changed too… a lot.”

  “Oh…”

  “But you see you had to. Because now you are part of me, and I of you. We’re not the same.”

  “I know what you mean. I know it isn’t saying much, but I’m better than I was.”

  “And now I want to hear more of your stories – from your land.”

  “OK. But we can’t stay all day. Nice as it might be to spend the night here again, I fear we will be missed.”

  “Indeed. But we do have a bit of time before we have to go back. I hope Johnson finds Jane. It is important to be missed by someone.”

  They sat together quietly playing with the hot dry sand, listening to the surf and imagining not hearing another human being for five years.

  After ten minutes Jalli shouted, “Jack! You reek.”

  “I what?”

  “Reek. Stink of that awful smoke. We both do.” She ran down to the sea pulling off all her clothes and dived into the sea. “What are you waiting for?” she yelled splashing in the surf. “I am not going back clean with a smelly boy.”

  Stunned by the sight of Jalli skinny dipping, Jack hesitated. She always surprised him this girl. But he quickly recovered, divested himself of the old rags and joined her in the surf. They washed their clothes in the sea too and hung them out on a pandanus palm, and then spread themselves on the sand to dry. Jack told Jalli about Peter, Wendy, Michael and the Lost Boys.

  “Hm,” sighed Jalli, “so Wendy had to do the housework and cook!”

  “Of course. She was the girl!” teased Jack. “But things have mostly changed now in Britain. Young people don’t think like that any more. In J.M. Barry’s time the better off people had servants. Few people do these days.”

  “Jack?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m hungry!”

  “There are some sandwiches in my bag.” But he made no effort to move.

  “You’re lazy!”

  “If you say so! Just kidding,” he laughed and got his bag. By the time they had finished the chunky cheese sandwiches whi
ch he had thrown together in Persham that morning their clothes were dry and crisp.

  *

  As soon as they were back in the cottage garden and had deposited their “island clothes” as they had called them in the shed, both it and the gate disappeared.

  “That’s a shame,” sighed Jalli. “I enjoyed that place.”

  “Job done!”

  “Spose so. So what next?”

  “I’ve been thinking!”

  “Dangerous! I’ve been thinking too.”

  “What?”

  “I just thought that I’ve spent time in England. Perhaps you could come and stay with me and my grandma. She has been really patient letting me go everywhere.”

  “Actually that is exactly what I was thinking too. I expect she’s a bit lonely really. Family is important.” Jalli reflected on just how much “family” had grown in Jack’s priorities since she first met him. She applauded his sensitivity.

  “Yes. Come and stay in Wanulka and I’ll show you the sights.”

  “Done!”

  “But, one thing I would like to do is stalk the parmanda hives like Mr. Bandi said. And a person has to do that on their own.”

  “Why? Without even me?”

  “I’m afraid so. They are easily spooked and with too many people they retreat inside and don’t come out.”

  “Well OK. But I’ll miss you!”

  “I won’t be gone five years! Just part of a day.”

  “Five hours is enough!”

  “You soppy romantic!” Jalli kissed him. “Look, I’ve been thinking too. You’ve met Grandma and I’ve met your mum but they’ve not met each other.”

  “Because they live on different planets.”

  “Right, but we are making an assumption here. It occurred to me when we took Johnson to the white gate in the cave and he could see it and came through. What if Grandma could see the white gate, or your mum? We’ve never tried bringing them to our gates.”

  “No we haven’t. It’s kind of our place though. I didn’t really want to share it with my mum to be honest.”

  “That’s right, and that’s fair because we were still finding out just where all this was taking us. But now we are much surer about things and about… about us, we cannot keep from inviting them to meet each other.”