The Advent Calendar

by Steven Croft

  Alex and Suzie desperately tried to create a diversion to draw the fire. Suzie had a coughing fit. Alex stuck up his hand: ‘Please miss, I need the toilet and I need it now.’

  ‘Shut up. Detention, both of you. Now you, boy. There is nothing funny about the human reproductive system.’

  Despite the seriousness of the situation a soft titter ran round the room.

  ‘Over the weekend you will draw me a labelled diagram of the human reproductive system and bring it to me on Monday morning signed by your parents. Is that clear?’

  Anthony looked at the floor, tears rolling down his face. ‘’Ss, Miss.’

  Alice, Suzie and Alex exchanged looks. This time the Newtron had gone too far. Fire Hose Plan G had just moved to execution stage.

  **********

  Sam and Tizzy went for a quiet drink after work, away from the usual crowd. It had been another tense day at the office. This time someone else was Richard’s victim.

  ‘It’s just horrible,’ said Tizzy for the ninth time as she set the drinks down. ‘Why do people put up with bullies?’

  ‘Happens everywhere,’ said Sam. ‘School, work, even families sometime. Alice’s dad, Nick, bullied my sister for years.’

  ‘You’ve never said. Did he hit her?’

  ‘I don’t think it ever came to that. I didn’t think that much about it while they were together. He’s just so forceful all the time. Undermined her confidence. He rang up yesterday and wanted to take Alice abroad for Christmas.’

  ‘Will she go?’

  ‘Doubt it – Megs looked pretty determined. Her confidence is coming back a bit now but every time that toerag rings up she kind of wobbles. How’s things with that boyfriend of yours, anyway? You haven’t mentioned him for ages.’

  Tizzy went quiet. ‘Not great, actually. Wants things his own way all the time. Never listens.’

  ‘He is a man, Tizzy.’

  ‘More than just the usual.’ She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘We had that bust-up last week after the weekend with my parents. I think he might be seeing someone else. He’s away on his own this weekend.’

  ‘Tough cookie,’ Sam said, surprising himself. Normally he didn’t do sympathy at all.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Tizzy, knocking back her drink. ‘Sam – you don’t fancy – you know – going out somewhere, do you? Just for a laugh. Make a night of it.’

  Sam was about to say yes without thinking when his phone rang. It was Alice.

  ‘Sam? Just checking you’re on your way. It’s Mum’s big night. You were going to be home early, remember?’

  ‘Jumping jellyfish, I forgot. I can just make it by seven if I dash. Just having a drink with a friend.’

  ‘Idiot. Any text messages?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He hung up. ‘Look, sorry, Tiz. Got to go. Megs has this date and I promised to be there for Alice. Nothing personal. Family. You know.’

  ‘No big deal,’ said Tizzy, standing up and giving him a hug. ‘See you at the party on Monday.’

  Sam legged it to the station and just made the train after his normal time. Even so, Megs was pacing up and down when he arrived home, all ready for Andrew.

  ‘You look gorgeous, sis. Doesn’t she, Alice?’

  ‘I’ve already told her that umpteen times. I just don’t see why she has to go out with a teacher from my school.’

  ‘What’s that on my face?’ said Sam, looking over Megs’ shoulder into the new mirror. He rubbed his forehead.

  ‘Don’t let Alice stay up past ten,’ said Megs. ‘And Sam, Mum rang. Dad’s not been too good this week. Really run down. I told them to call a doctor.’

  Sam was still staring at his reflection and scratching his chin.

  Megs turned round. ‘Looks fine to me,’ she said. ‘You’re just trying to take my mind off things.’

  The doorbell rang. Andrew Watkins swept in, said ‘Hi’ to Sam and Alice, looked stunned by Megs and swept out again in a matter of seconds. Alice waved goodbye from the window. Sam stood in front of the mirror rubbing his face.

  ‘You too?’ said Alice, coming to stand next to him and pointing at her cheek.

  ‘You look fine to me,’ said Sam, looking at her reflection.

  ‘So do you,’ said Alice. ‘And I look fine in the bathroom mirror and the mirrors at school. But when I look in this mirror, there is a great brown streak all down my cheek and right down onto my shoulder. Nothing I can do gets it off.’

  ‘Message’ sang Sam’s phone.

  ‘Sam!’ said Alice. ‘You’ve got a new ring tone! Don’t say you’re growing up at last? Is it the code?’

  ‘Three, eight, colon, one, four,’ Sam read aloud.

  ‘Perfect timing,’ said Alice as she punched in the numbers. The new door was the same colour as the calendar itself and hard to see at first.

  ‘What happens now?’ wondered Sam after they had waited a few seconds. Alice peered out of the window to see if JB had arrived with another parcel. She turned back into the room.

  ‘Sam! Look! The mirror!’

  Sam spun round. The face of the mirror was once again cloudy and soft. Alice put out her hand and pressed her fingertips through the surface. They disappeared. It was like pressing them through a very thick layer of oil. She pressed one arm through next, then the other, feeling the empty space on the far side. Only then, like a swimmer putting her face through water, did she press her head through the mirror’s soft surface and out the other side. She saw enough to be aware that she was entering a warm dark room, lit by lines of sparkling lights at floor level. Quickly Alice steadied herself on the frame of the mirror and stepped through, first one leg, then the other. Sam followed her and both of them took in the scene.

  They had emerged in the middle of a vast indoor chamber, but they could see neither walls nor ceiling. The sense of a vast space was created by patterns of tiny lights running across the smooth black floor in random patterns like the cracks in very large crazy paving. The chamber was very still. The other sources of light were what looked like large fireflies, thousands of them, dancing, as it seemed, from point to point in the great space.

  There was no sign of JB. Alice and Sam looked around to make sure they could find the mirror again and then began to move in the same direction into the chamber. Almost at once, Alice became aware of a low whispering sound coming from many different directions.

  As her eyes became more used to the dim light, she began to see the other distinctive feature of the cavernous chamber. Suspended from the ceiling, still out of sight, were thousands and thousands and thousands of tiny black threads. At the end of each thread, at different heights above the floor, was either a speaker or a headphone. Each was at least a metre from any of the others.

  The speakers themselves were all different. Some, like the headphones, were different sizes. Some looked as though they had been taken from a car stereo system. Others were larger, like the ones in televisions or hi-fi systems, Sam thought. Some were much smaller: the tiniest earpiece you can imagine. Others were shaped like shells or rusty cans at the end of a string.

  The low, rustling sound was coming from these innumerable speakers or headphones which stretched away into the distance in every direction. As Sam and Alice wandered around the chamber and as their ears tuned to the silence, they began to hear snatches of what was being said. From each speaker came a different voice.

  Alice stood next to one of the strings she could reach and put the earpiece close to her left ear. The words were in a language she could not understand but she instantly caught the notes of pain and distress in the woman’s voice. Carefully, she let the headphone hang still again and went to another and then another. Each time the voice spoke a different language. It was like turning the dial on a radio tuner and listening to snatches of different programmes except each o
ne was punctuated by sobs and cries.

  A little way away, Alice saw Sam doing exactly the same. Then she found a voice speaking English. A woman in a broad Scottish accent, crying and pleading for the life of her child. As Alice listened, she learned that the young girl had cancer and was not expected to live beyond her fifth birthday. The next voice she could understand was that of an old man, crying out with loneliness. The next was a woman with a Yorkshire accent anxious and worried about her son, serving with the army far away in a foreign country. The next a young man in prison on the point of suicide. The next a young child’s prayer for protection for his mother when her boyfriend came home drunk. The next the cry of someone close to death from a hospital ward.

  ‘These are prayers,’ she thought. ‘I’m listening to real people, saying their prayers.’

  As she listened to each whispered cry and let go of the headphones, Alice found she shed a tear. She and Sam came together and held hands. They looked across the great chamber and heard in the gentle rustle the cries and prayers of thousands and thousands of people in different languages from every point on earth.

  Suddenly Sam pointed. One of the creatures Alice had thought was a firefly had come close to them and landed on a tiny speaker nearby.

  The creature was surrounded by a bright light. As it came to rest, Alice and Sam were able to see its shape for the first time. They gasped. At the centre of the ring of light, the size, it seemed, of a butterfly, was a tiny angel. Its six wings beat faster than they could see as the creature hovered in the air near the earpiece, listening to the prayer. Sam recognised that the language was Spanish and the voice was that of a young boy but neither he nor Alice could make out the words. The tiny angel listened to the grief and pain until the voice came to an end. It seemed to Alice that its light burned just a little less brightly as it attended to the prayer. Then, in a moment, the angel was gone leaving a trail of light behind it. This particular speaker was silent for a time. Then a different voice began in yet another language. This one sounded Indian, Sam thought. Another angel came and listened in the same way and then flew upwards like a spark and was gone.

  Sam and Alice let go of each other’s hand again and walked forward, listening and watching the endless sequence of prayers from all over the earth, cries of the heart, spoken and yet heard. Gradually they began to notice that the pattern of lights on the floor radiated out from a central space like spokes on a wheel, so they let the pattern lead them and eventually it took them to the very centre of the chamber.

  There, in the midst of the rough circle of light set into the floor were three wooden stools set around a dark oak table. JB stood up to welcome them and invited them to sit with him. He offered them draughts of cold water served in simple wooden cups. There was fresh bread and a wooden bowl filled with wild honey.

  Sam and Alice felt strangely weary after walking only a little way through the chamber. The simple meal revived them. For some moments each of them ate in silence.

  After he had swallowed the last of the bread and washed it down with the cold, refreshing water, Sam turned to face JB. ‘Tell us about this place,’ he asked, speaking softly. ‘Of all the places we have been, I think this may be the most strange and beautiful of all.’

  JB acknowledged the truth of what he said with a sad smile. He spread his arms wide. ‘Behold the Chamber of Laments,’ he said. His deep voice seemed at one with the resonances in the great space, echoing softly off the distant walls and ceiling. ‘This is the place where the cries and tears of all the earth are heard. Each minute and hour, each day and night, each long and weary year every prayer that is offered in hunger or sadness or despair comes to this chamber and is heard.’

  ‘Can every prayer be answered?’ asked Alice, her eyes wide.

  ‘Every prayer is heard, child,’ JB said. ‘Each prayer which is the cry of a heart makes a difference. Each tear is counted. Many more are answered than you or I can know. But prayers are not like the wishes in your stories. Not all can be answered yet. There is too much that is still bitter and twisted and evil in the world. Too much is still to be set to rights. But the day will come. The day will come when the King returns and even this great chamber will fall silent for eternity. Then every sorrow and every sigh will flee the earth for ever.’

  ‘Who is this King?’ asked Sam. ‘When will he come?’

  ‘You do not know?’ asked JB, standing and looking at each of them. He smiled sadly and indicated they should walk together back towards the mirror. First Alice then Sam shook their heads.

  ‘You do not know? Yet your whole world is, supposedly, preparing to celebrate his birth. The very meaning of that birth is now forgotten. The story is retold as a fairy tale to children but they are no longer allowed to see its meaning.’

  They drew near to the misty surface of the mirror suspended in the chamber. JB stood and faced them but continued speaking.

  ‘Two thousand years ago, the King was born. He lived and served and loved and died. But death itself could not hold him. He lives still and reigns in heaven and wherever on earth men and women welcome him as Lord. He has a people scattered through the earth who give their lives in the service of this kingdom. And the time is nearer now – nearer than it has ever been – the time is near when the King will return to set everything to rights. And even this great chamber will fall silent.’

  As JB motioned again with his arm, both Alice and Sam took a final look around the great, sad and weary space. Countless thousands of prayers and cries expressing such profound sadness: the weariness of the earth laid bare. JB helped first Sam and then Alice through the mirror’s surface.

  The front room felt very small and cold and empty after a place which was so sad yet so alive. Alice drew the curtains as Sam lit the gas fire. Then together they faced the calendar and looked.

  The fourteenth door was open now. Just as Alice hoped, there in the doorway in a circle of light, hovering above the ground, was a tiny angel with six wings. If you looked very closely, you could see that its expression was (in a way that Alice could not understand) at the same time full of sadness yet full of hope.

  15 December

  On Saturday, Alice slept late and was woken by the sound of the doorbell ringing persistently.

  She ran down the stairs. No one else was around.

  ‘Hi, Josie. Come on in.’

  ‘Is Sam up?’ Josie didn’t look too well.

  ‘Not yet. Shall I try and wake him?’

  ‘Please. Mind if I put the kettle on?’

  Alice was already halfway up the stairs. She knocked at Sam’s door. ‘Sam. Wake up. It’s Josie downstairs.’

  ‘OK. Down in a minute.’

  Megs stuck her head round the bedroom door. ‘Is that the time? Slept in. Alice, get dressed, pet. I think your father’s coming round this morning.’

  By the time Alice came back downstairs, the house, it seemed, was full of people. Round the kitchen table sat Megs and Josie. Megs was dressed but her hair was all over the place. Opposite them, in T-shirts and boxer shorts were Sam and Andrew Watkins who had emerged from the front room. Everyone seemed to be getting on famously.

  Alice’s nice Saturday mood evaporated instantly. She slammed the kitchen door as loudly as she could, stormed into the front room and went to switch on the TV. As she turned, Alice caught a glimpse of her reflection again in the mirror. To her horror, the dark stain on her left cheek and shoulder had now spread to the right side of her face and covered both her hands. Her clothes were also stained. She looked as though she hadn’t changed or washed in weeks.

  Megs came quietly into the room with her cup of tea. ‘Alice?’ she said, quietly.

  Alice grabbed two cushions, put them over her ears and stared straight ahead, eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Alice, I should have warned you Andrew was here,’ Megs began. ‘I would have don
e but I’d no idea he was going to stay over. He stayed in here.’

  Alice bit her bottom lip hard, determined not to cry. ‘Alice, please.’

  Alice turned her face into the sofa and her back to Megs, who touched her softly on the shoulder. ‘We’ll talk later, my love,’ she said. ‘Your father is coming at twelve. Andrew will be gone in half an hour. I thought we might get a tree later and put some decorations up.’

  As soon as the coast was clear, Alice crept out of the front room and into the hall. She pulled on her boots and coat and scarf and charged out of the house without any idea where she was going. It was raining heavily. There was a stream of traffic heading into town and a bus just pulling up. Alice had some change in her pocket. She joined the queue and leapt aboard, paying for a single fare into town.

  *********

  Back at the house, Sam was the first one to notice that Alice was gone. Megs came back into the kitchen and announced Alice was sulking. Sam was pleased for his sister but felt for Alice having to meet one of her teachers over breakfast. He knew, as well, how badly Alice felt about Nick leaving and how his visits always upset her. As soon as he could, he made an excuse and went to find her.

  The front room was empty. Sam, too, gasped as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His reflected clothes were ragged and patched. Through the holes, Sam could see his knees and arms were caked in dirt. His hair looked as if it had not been washed in ages. There was a bruise on his left cheek. As he touched it, the place felt sore.

  He turned away to look at the calendar, out of habit more than anything. He looked first at the angel from yesterday and then saw, to his surprise, that a new door had appeared already. The frame was made of thin metal and the door itself looked and felt like darkened glass. His phone was upstairs. The message must have arrived when he was having breakfast.

  ‘Sam,’ said Josie, coming in behind him, ‘can we talk? I came round this morning because I’ve got something important to say.’