Advent Train Stories: The Sapling

Welcome to Day 10 of the Advent Calendar Story Train hosted by Ari Meghlen, where you can read 24 pieces of flash fiction in the lead-up to Christmas, all following the prompt “the gift”. Mine is titled The Sapling and is the first short story I’ve written in YEARS. I hope you enjoy it!! →

The Sapling

by Rebecca Alasdair

for all the families facing their first Christmas without their granny—including mine

“Grandpa, where do people go when they die?”

The question startles him out of his doze. Bright light ricochets from the deck, searing into his retinas and glinting off the beer bottle that dangles from his slack-fingered grip. It takes a moment to place where he is—and when he is.

“Grandpa?”

He glances down to find his youngest grandchild, Izzy, staring at him with her lower lip caught between her teeth. Perhaps her question is too morbid for Christmas Day, but he’s never been able to resist those big brown eyes. “Where do you think they go?” he asks.

Izzy’s face scrunches up. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either. I’m not sure anyone does.”

The frown deepens. “Then how will Granny see her present?”

Something in his chest twinges. He draws in a breath and lets it out slowly; the ache remains, still lodged beneath his heart, but it’s no longer sharp enough to sting. Putting down his beer, which has gone warm from the sun now anyway, he rises to his feet. “Come with me, Iz.”

She slips her small hand into his.

Across the yard, his sons-in-law monitor the rest of the kids as they splash about in the pool. Carols blare from the dining area, where his daughters pick over the remains of Christmas lunch. It’s loud and chaotic and at odds with the peaceful countryside around them, but he likes the noise. The house has been much too quiet these past few months.

No one notices him and Izzy slip away. He guides her around the side of the house, keeping tight hold of her fingers as she fidgets and skips at his side. They pause on the front veranda to drink in the view that, even after all these years, never fails to steal his breath.

Summer sunlight rains from an azure canvas and illuminates the landscape in shades of yellow and brown and gold. Wind whispers through the rolling hills, rustling the brittle grasses and carrying the scent of dried sap and woodsmoke. The dam glitters in the distance, its surface rippling in the breeze, while cockatoos screech from the drooping trees along the fence line.

Yet, somehow, it doesn’t quite feel like home anymore.

Not without her.

Izzy releases his hand and rushes down the hill. He follows at a more sedate pace, his knees and back no longer what they used to be. By the time he reaches his granddaughter, she already has her nose buried in the leaves of the sapling they planted earlier that morning, after the kids had opened their presents.

She inhales deeply. “It smells good.”

“Your granny liked the scent of this tree the most,” he says, the words hushed, almost reverent. Draping an arm over Izzy’s shoulders, he feathers his free palm across the tender new growth. “Do you remember how she used to make candles and soaps?”

Izzy nods eagerly. “I helped her!”

“You did. She always said that her best candles and soaps were the ones you helped her make.”

His granddaughter twists and peers up at him, squinting in the afternoon glare. He can’t tell if she believes him or thinks he’s full of nonsense, but her serious little face brings a faint grin to his lips. “Grandpa, this tree smells a bit like Granny’s candles. I have one in my room.”

The smile wobbles. He hugs Izzy closer to his side, heedless of the heat slicking their skin together. “Granny loved the scent of this tree the most,” he repeats. “She often used its oil in her crafts.”

“Where does it come from?”

“Not far from here, actually. And this little tree, your mum bought as a gift for Granny. But you see, Iz…it’s not just a gift for Granny. It’s also a gift for us.”

Her eyes widen comically. “For me?”

“For you,” he agrees. “For me. For your brothers and your parents and your cousins. We planted this tree as a family, and as a family, we will watch it grow. Every time you come to visit me, you can see how much taller it’s become. And when you lean in to smell it, you’ll remember your Granny and how you loved making candles with her.”

Izzy falls silent. Christmas music seeps through the walls of the house and listless cows moan in the neighbour’s paddock, but as the seconds stretch into minutes, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world.

“I miss Granny,” Izzy finally says.

Squeezing her shoulders, he swallows past the lump in his throat. “I miss her too. Very much. But you know what? Wherever she is, it doesn’t matter if she can see her present or not. We are her eyes and ears in the world now. As long as we enjoy this tree for her, as long as we don’t forget her and the wonderful times that we shared, she’ll never really be gone.”

At that moment, a gust of wind blows between them. The infant tree bows before its superior strength, leaves kicking up a fuss as they’re caught and tugged and riled. Izzy shrieks, reaching for the flexible branches as if afraid they’ll snap right in half.

But the breeze passes. The sapling rights itself again, straightening to its full height.

Izzy pats the leaves affectionately. “Grandpa?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any icy poles?”

A chuckle escapes him. Maybe it will be another year or two before she understands the tree’s significance, but that’s okay. He can wait. “I might have some in the freezer. Do you really think you need one, though?”

“Grandpa,” Izzy whines, “it’s Christmas!”

Before he can get another word in, she’s scampering back up the hill. He shakes his head and gives the sapling a fond look. “Ah, my love. That girl is so much like you.”

Then he shuts his eyes, savours the warmth of the sun on his skin. And he swears he can feel her smile.

— THE END —

About the Advent Story Train

Welcome to the Advent Calendar Story Train, where you can read through 24 stories under the theme “The Gift”. Thank you for reading today’s story.

The next one will be available to read on 11 December, titled “Hell Hawks“. This link will be active tomorrow when the post goes live.

If you missed yesterday’s story, you can go and read it here.