The Magic Tree

I look at the clock, tapping my fingers.
Daddy will be here soon and I am impatient to see him. I walk over to the sofa, climb onto it and peer out of the window. It is a beautiful, calm day and the sky is as blue as a forget-me-not. Suddenly, I see the figure of daddy walking down the lane and I run outside to greet him. He smiles at me, opens his arms wide and I am consumed by his embrace. When he lets go he looks into my eyes and kisses me on the forehead. I do the same to him and when I look back at him, his eyes are sparkling, wet. He clears his throat.
“Remember what I said we’d do this week?” he asks.
“Oh yes, I do!” I reply and I can hardly contain my excitement.
Daddy looks carefully around, as though we might be being watched.
“This is top secret, remember,” he confides, “and very, very important”.
I repeat those three last words with great reverence.
“Now, follow me,” says daddy, in a serious voice.
He leads me to the gate that will take us to the back garden; walking steadily and like a soldier. I copy him as we head up the garden, neither of us saying a word. We pass the Pear Tree, and the Moonflowers that are asleep, and will not open their petals until the moon is once again queen of the skies. My breaths are controlled although I am trembling inside. Daddy stops and so do I. We are at the end of the garden, by the wooden fence. Beyond lies the land of the Witch. Daddy picks me up, and we look at each other.
“Now, we have to climb over the fence, and then run, as fast as we can to the tree. Keep low when you run, and remember, the Witch could appear at any moment.” He pauses and I gulp. “Are you quite sure you want to do this?”
I do, I tell him. He points to the tree. I stare at it, the only one in the field, it’s branches like old crooked fingers reaching out to the heavens.
My heart is beating like a drum and I feel sure daddy must be able to hear it. Everything around us is silent, apart from the birdsong. I look back at my house, and I can see mummy is painting inside, by the window. I begin to wave and when she looks up, she waves back. Daddy takes a few steps forward and then climbs over the fence, beckoning me to do the same. I am surprised; it is easy, and I grin happily as my feet touch the ground.
“Good. Now…RUN!”
We go together, crouching and running, which just makes me giggle. Daddy looks silly, his tall body stooping at an awkward angle. The long grass scratches and tickles my legs, but I don’t care. I am free, free as a bird, heading towards The Magic Tree that I have longed to touch, to hug and to talk to. I reach it a few moments after daddy who picks me up and sits me down on one of the low, sturdy branches.
“We made it!,” I whisper. I reach into my pocket and take out the two long blue ribbons I brought with me, and tie them carefully to the branch I am sitting on, to mark the moment and then we are quiet; warm in the sun, lethargic after all the activity. Daddy settles down on the dusty ground and I take off my red, shiny shoes so my feet can be as free as I feel. I hug the tree and tell it I love it, for I do. Daddy and I noticed the tree a long time ago, and both agreed there was something special about it. Sometimes, in the autumn, we would stand, quite still and watch it, whilst all around us, other trees faded and shed their leaves. Our Magic Tree seemed untouchable, always the same, come rain or shine, winter or summer. I had dared daddy to run to it, but a woman had shrieked at him, from afar before he could touch it. I could hear her as I hid behind the fence. Daddy had rushed back, like a naughty child and we laughed until I thought my sides would split. We nicknamed the woman the Witch because of her voice and promised each other we would go to the tree together one day. I smile with my memories dancing inside me, and glance at daddy with pride. He stretches out, and squints up at me, to avoid the glare of the sun and catches me looking at him. Words are not needed. We stay like that a while, my fears of the Witch temporarily forgotten. Dream-like minutes pass; it seems we are hidden from the rest of the world, just me and my daddy.
Suddenly there is a noise, a voice, that shatters our peace, and I watch, horrified as an old woman appears from, it seems, absolutely nowhere.
“What do you think you’re doing?,” she yells menacingly, “This is private property!”
She comes closer, her skin is lined and looks yellow, almost waxy and I grip daddy’s hand,hard, as her cold, grey eyes fix onto me.
Daddy lifts me off the tree and shouts back at the woman, and I begin to cry, terrified that she will make him disappear so that I will never be able to see him again.
I hear the words ‘outrageous’ and ‘police’. I wince, but daddy dismisses her. He tells me not to worry, that she is overreacting and it’s not even her land anyway. He leads me back to the fence and lifts me over it, into the safety of my garden, and tells me to sit down on the grass and wait. The old woman begins walking towards us and I yell, “Daddy! The Witch! She’s coming!”. He snorts with laughter and hushes me and turns to face her. They begin speaking more quietly. Once or twice she looks over at me, frowning. Then she starts gesturing towards The Magic Tree. Daddy’s voice is calm, but firm and after a few minutes she sighs and wanders off.
Daddy sits down next to me and tries to explain, something about ‘busy bodies’, but I am too shocked to listen. I have just seen the Witch. I have touched The Magic Tree, but I have actually seen the Witch. More importantly, she has seen me. What would happen now? Would she cast some terrible spell on me? I shiver, apalled. I tell daddy my concerns and he tries to look serious but I can tell he wants to laugh.
He assures me nothing will happen. His words comfort me, and I begin to feel tired. He suggests we doze a while outside which seems like a good idea. It has been a strange day and I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of late afternoon – a lawn mower humming some distance away, a gate slamming as someone returns home; then the hum of voices rising and falling as greetings are exchanged, and the birdsong, lazy now, like a lullaby.
Soon enough, we sleep, curled around each other, like something eternal.