by M S C Barnes
wondered if this was the caretaker. He had expected an old man with shabby overalls. Judging by the build and the clothing this person was a twenty-something at most; tall but with a slight, athletic frame. The hoodie was accompanied by jeans and a pair of blue deck shoes.
Zach tried to peer under the hood but the youth turned towards the tree, placing a hand on the bark of the trunk. The hoodie’s sleeve flopped back to the wrist, revealing delicate fingers with finely shaped nails.
“Luis is a protector.” As the stranger began speaking, Zach blinked. The speech was slightly gravelly, almost husky, with a feminine tone to it.
In fact, Seb thought, looking at this character, It’s difficult to tell if it’s a male or female. The height, the clothing, the bearing – all male. But the delicacy, the fingers, the build, the voice … could be female. Seb found himself distracted from what this newcomer was saying as he struggled to find clues to help him confirm the gender.
Zach had moved round to try and face the youth. “Luis? Who is Luis? Are you Luis?”
“Luis, the quicken-tree, witch bane – take your pick.” Again the husky, almost female tones.
“Rowan!” Aiden said. “Those are other names for the rowan tree … and that stick is made of rowan, I think.”
The stranger said nothing. Zach raised his eyes.
“Mm. Fascinating. Are you the caretaker?” He sounded doubtful but keen to just get on with returning the stick. He had no interest in talk of tree names.
“I am.” The figure turned and removed the hood.
Scarlet was smiling and nudged Nat who simply stared at the youthful face of this stranger. A couple of older girls walking along the edge of the playground stopped and stared too, then nudged each other, giggled and walked off, talking in whispers.
Even with the whole head visible, Seb still couldn’t decide if this tall and slender person was a girl or a boy. The girls’ reaction suggested they thought it was a male. Definitely young, couldn’t be more than twenty-five he guessed, but Seb was erring towards female and he knew that was mainly because the character had long, glossy, wavy black hair which framed an attractive face. The features could easily be male or female, though: a straight nose; high forehead; full, slightly arched, dark eyebrows; piercing blue eyes, lined with long, dark lashes; a straight, firm mouth with full but not thick lips; and a strong, slightly pointed jaw. The whole effect was of a strikingly good-looking person. But which gender?
I can’t tell. Seb gawped.
“So what’s your name?” Zach frowned, curious.
“The Caretaker.” A wry smile crossed the face and the character offered nothing more.
There was a pause and Zach stared. He glanced at Seb, then back at The Caretaker. “So are you a boy or a girl?” he asked, and Aiden gasped.
Seb cringed and Scarlet berated, “Zach! Don’t be rude!”
“Well I’m just asking …” Zach didn’t take his eyes off The Caretaker who regarded him impassively and didn’t answer.
In the awkward silence that followed, Zach still stared, but in the end he gave in and flicked the stick up into the air and caught it again half way down the shaft, holding it out in front of The Caretaker.
“Here ya go! One stick, returned. Can I go to lunch now?”
The Caretaker made no effort to take it. “You were asked to return it to the tree, to fill in the hole,” the blue eyes darted to the small hole at their feet, “and then to remain until I say you can leave. Were you not?” The Caretaker raised an eyebrow.
Zach frowned. “We’re game-playing aren’t we? This is ridiculous. It’s a stupid stick and a hole in the dirt.” The Caretaker said nothing. “Oh fine, have it your way. It’s ridiculous!”
In a breathtakingly quick motion, Zach hefted the stick into the air. It shot up through the foliage above their heads. There was a clattering sound as it hit a couple of branches and then a further clattering as it dropped back out. Zach caught it and tutted. He tossed it up a second time. Again the clattering, some rustling and the stick dropped back out. “Oh for pity’s sake!”
Zach jumped and poked the stick into the tree. He landed and the stick followed him back down. He growled in annoyance. Now he leapt up onto the bench. Feeling up into the tree he lay the stick horizontally onto the thick, main branch and gingerly removed his hands. As he stepped down from the bench with a broad grin on his face the stick fell onto the seat behind him and then rolled onto the gravel.
He fumed at The Caretaker, “Why do I have to put it back in the tree? It’s a flaming stick! That’s all! It fell out of the tree so it must have needed to fall. It won’t go back!” He picked up the stick from the gravel and, using his other hand as he did so, scraped some of the mud around the hole Aiden had made into the middle of it. Then, with his shoe, he shoved the rest of the dirt and the dislodged gravel back in place.
“Well there’s your darned hole filled in. As for this,” he was shouting and glared at the stick, “it’s a stick and I’m not going to stand here for the whole of my lunch break trying to put a flaming stick back into a flaming tree!” The Caretaker still said nothing. “I’m hungry and I’m fed up and I need my lunch.”
Once more he threw it up, this time with such force that several leaves and small twigs were dislodged and fell to the ground, followed, inevitably, by the stick.
“Enough!” The Caretaker’s voice was harsh and so loud it caused a few boys on the playground to glance over. They stared for a moment at the striking figure. One boy raised his eyebrows and nudged the others who smiled and shoved him back. They walked off, looking over their shoulders at The Caretaker.
“You were asked to put the stick back, not do more damage!”
“I wasn’t asked, I was told!” Zach retorted. “If you’re so fussed, you put it back.” He thrust the stick towards The Caretaker who now put out two slender hands and gripped it. Dropping one end to the ground the figure made a lithe jump, gripped the lower tree branch, which was easily eight feet above the ground, and then swung into the tree, disappearing from sight. In a second The Caretaker reappeared, dropping sure-footedly to the ground … without the stick.
Zach stood, mouth open. They all looked up into the tree, waiting. No stick.
Zach seemed momentarily lost then he mumbled, “You didn’t say I could climb into the tree.”
Scarlet laughed. “Like you could have done that, Zach – wow!”
“No Scarlet, not wow! Pointless!” Zach was angry again. “All of this is pointless. This was a stick, falling out of a tree and a bunch of teachers and …” he looked at The Caretaker, “… staff, playing silly games. Pointless!” He kicked the shingle, sending small stones skittering.
Then Aiden shouted, “Snake!”
Seb stared at him. He was pointing, wild-eyed, into the tree. Seb followed the direction of his outstretched arm where a snake slithered out of the leaves. He blinked, just as Zach, in a re-enactment of the break-time incident, grabbed hold of the thing. As Zach’s hand grasped the snake behind its head it stiffened and as he pulled Seb blinked again. Zach was tugging the same stick from the same tree.
Zach’s head dropped and he groaned, “Aiden! Not snake, stick!”
“But I …” Aiden mumbled, “I was sure it was a snake.”
“And what did you think it was, Zach?” The Caretaker asked.
Zach was scowling at the stick and, ignoring the question, grabbed the bulbous end with both hands. He lifted the stick to head height and then slammed it towards the ground, ramming the end into the dirt. The tip penetrated the earth and he let go of it. It remained upright. He grabbed his bag and strode off towards the Year Ten playground.
Scarlet called after him, “Zach, where are you going? You weren’t told you could leave— ”
“To lunch!” he called back over his shoulder and didn’t stop.
Nat touched Seb’s arm. “Look.”
He looked towards the stick. The bulge at the top was elongating, the shaft sagging and then, as he wat
ched, the whole thing collapsed to the ground and began undulating. A long tongue flicked out of the end and two eyes popped open. A snake. It was a snake, and the creature was now slithering towards Zach who was still striding away.
The Caretaker, pulling the hood of the jacket up, walked off, calling back to them, “You can go.”
Seb was finding it hard to believe what he was seeing. It’s a stick, he kept telling himself as the snake crossed the playground, gaining ground on Zach. He trotted after it.
“Seb, where are you going?” Aiden called, then Seb heard crunching as the other three followed him.
“Zach!” he shouted.
Zach stopped and turned. His mouth fell open as he noticed the snake with Seb running beside it, barely keeping up. In three long strides Zach reached it and scooped it up. Instantly it became the stick again.
Breathlessly Seb said, “It’s yours. It must be yours. Every time you try to get rid of it, it comes back – turns into a snake to follow you.”
Zach looked incredulously at Seb. “What are you talking about?”
“The stick! It must be meant to be yours. How else do you explain why it keeps coming back to you?”
The other three joined them and as if making a split-second decision Zach pulled open the flap of his bag and stuffed the stick in.
“Are you going to keep it then?” Aiden asked.
“Well, Seb seems to think it’s mine, and I need my lunch, so I’m not wasting any more time trying to plant it back in the