The Angel's Ark - short story Read online

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  They’d reached the end of Jacob’s street while they were talking. The park, if it could be called that, lay just around the corner. There was a swing and a busted slide, some worn earth now covered by snow, and a half basketball court that usually had cans and food wrappers strewn all over it. As they walked towards the park the air began to shimmer. Something brushed Jacob’s shoulder and he realised it was a giant fir tree, with branches that stretched over the sidewalk. A fir tree that hadn’t existed this morning when he’d run down the street with his friends. The smell of crushed pine needles filled the air and he breathed the cleansing scent deep into his lungs. A forest loomed up ahead and a white, snow covered path twisted in under the dark green leaves.

  Jacob looked up at the angel beside him. He didn’t look worried about going in there so Jacob held the angel’s hand a little tighter and kept walking.

  It was quiet in the forest. Traffic noise didn’t enter and there was no wind. The archangel’s body glowed a little brighter and cast the shadows away. The soft snow refected the angel’s passing with a pale glimmer.

  ‘Not far now,’ the angel said.

  The path turned past a wide trunk and opened out into a clearing. In it was not only the most wonderful Christmas tree Jacob had ever seen, but the most wonderful one he could ever have imagined. It towered over his head, so high that he suspected the star at the top was a real one. The tips of its branches were covered in icicles and the glassy daggers sparkled in the silver starlight. There were decorations all over the tree, but not like the ones in stores that are made of coloured glass, plastic and metal.

  ‘Can I go and see?’ Jacob said.

  ‘Of course. This is your Christmas.’

  Jacob ran through the snow and pulled up short under the heavy branches. He examined the decorations, touching, smelling, wide-eyed with delight. There were seedpods, balls made out of luminous flower petals, swirling sea shells, bird feathers, eggs. Everything on the tree was natural and all of it was fabulous, beautiful and strange.

  ‘Jacob.’

  ‘Yes, Michael?’

  ‘Come here.’ Michael held his arms out and scooped Jacob onto his back. When the feathers touched the boy’s skin he felt a current go through him, something electric, vital and alive.

  ‘I have gifts for you,’ Michael said. ‘Not toys or things like that. Something more special, something I want you to remember always.’

  Jacob nodded. His teacher said he was good at paying attention and he intended to prove it now.

  ‘You can open the decorations,’ Michael said. ‘They’re like presents.’

  ‘Which one should I start with?’

  ‘Any one you like.’

  Jacob reached out to the tree, leaning across the angel’s broad shoulders. He pulled a small clam shell from a twig and opened it. A cloud of tiny wasps flew out. One landed on his hand, so tiny and black it looked like a speck of dirt. He couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

  ‘What are those flies?’ he asked.

  ‘They’re fig wasps,’ the angel replied. ‘They don’t look like much, do they?’

  Jacob shook his head.

  ‘And yet, they’re very special. Those particular wasps lay their eggs inside the fruit of giant fig trees. Without them, the fig trees wouldn’t produce any fruit and without the fruit the sun bears might die.’

  ‘Sun bears?’

  ‘They live in the jungles of Asia and they need figs to live on. But some of the fig wasps are sick so there aren’t enough figs and the bears are hungry. But not now. You just saved them because you let those little wasps out. They’re flying to their trees this very instant.’

  ‘I saved the bears?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘So it’s like I gave them a Christmas present?’

  ‘Exactly. Now, open another one.’

  Jacob stretched up and pulled a woven ball of palm fronds from the tree. He unwrapped it and found a strange green frog staring at him. It had a pointy nose and beady eyes. Still not quite what he thought of as a Christmas present.

  ‘This creature is called Darwin’s frog,’ Michael said. ‘It does a strange thing. When its tadpoles are at the wriggling stage..’ he stopped, then frowned. ‘You have seen tadpoles, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jacob nodded. He had, once, when his teacher brought some to school.

  ‘Well, the father frog puts the tadpoles inside his vocal sac - that’s a place in the frog’s throat that it makes sounds with - and the tadpoles live in there until they’re old enough to hop out on their own.’

  ‘Yuk.’ Jacob didn’t like the frog any better after hearing that. He poked the frog with his finger and it rolled over onto its back and lay there, dead.

  ‘I’m sorry!’ Jacob wailed. ‘I killed it.’

  Michael laughed. The sound was deeper than a church bell. ‘It’s only playing. It’s scared of you.’

  Jacob breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘I’ll be very still,’ he said earnestly. He really did want to unwrap some more of these strange presents. The angel smiled, then blew softly and the frog disappeared. ‘I’ve sent him home,’ he said to the small boy on his back. ‘They need him over there.’

  It was time for another one. This time Jacob picked a large bud and pulled the petals apart. A shimmering butterly flapped its wings, circled Jacob’s head and landed on his arm.

  ‘Priam’s birdwing,’ the angel explained.

  ‘It’s the biggest butterfly ever!’

  ‘The biggest butterfly in Northern Australia,’ Michael corrected. ‘Beautiful green, isn’t it?’

  The butterfly opened and shut its wings in time with Jacob’s heartbeat. ‘Can it stay?’ he asked.

  ‘Not this one,’ Michael replied. ‘It likes a bit more sunshine than you have here. Off you go,’ he said to the butterfly and it flew slowly between the trees, emerald wings flashing until it was out of sight.

  ‘Can I have another one?’

  ‘You can have two more.’

  Jacob took a while choosing the next gift. He examined the tree with great care and finally pulled at the tip of a branch and took down a large nut. It opened under his hands to reveal a tiny ball of fur. Little fingers crept out of the ball and two round eyes stared into his. The tip of a tail slipped out.

  Jacob was too excited to speak. The little creature stretched and revealed itself to be a tiny black money with a golden rump.

  ‘A baby Black Lion Tamarin.’ Michael said. Even the angel seemed impressed. ‘The rarest monkey on earth.’

  Jacob held the monkey gently. It was so small it fitted easily into his child’s hands. It had a crumpled up face and a cross-looking expression but it was still the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He longed to ask if he could keep the tiny monkey but he already knew what Michael would say. As if he could read minds, the angel spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry, but you can’t keep her. She’s too rare for that and I’m hoping she’ll have babies when she’s older. But I won’t send her on her way until it’s time for both of us to go.’

  Jacob put the tiny monkey on his shoulder and she nestled up to his neck. He could smell her sweet, warm animal smell and it made him happy.

  And now it was time for the last present. Jacob closed his eyes and stuck his hand into the dark green shadows under the branches. He couldn’t choose so he decided to treat it like a lucky dip instead.

  ‘Ah. Careful with that one,’ the angel said. ‘Very fragile.’

  Jacob unwrapped the gift. It was covered in moss and when he pulled the soft wrapping back he found an odd looking, transparent, hollow thing, a bit like a twisted vase.

  ‘Bend down,’ the angel said. Jacob obeyed and the angel touched his cool fingertips to the little boy’s eyes. ‘Look again,’ the soft, deep voice said.

  ‘Oh! I’m a telescope!’

  ‘Microscope.’

  ‘One of those things that let you see small things like they’re big!’


  ‘Indeed!’ The angel laughed. ‘It’s called Venus’ Flower Basket. I’ve seen all manner of things under heaven but I do think this one is extra special. Can you see its skeleton?’

  ‘No. It hasn’t got any bones.’

  ‘What can you see?’

  ‘It’s got holes all over it. Like it’s made of lace. It’s like lots of snowflakes in the shape of a tube.’

  Michael smiled at the description. ‘It’s a sponge and it lives under the sea. What you’re describing is its skeleton and it’s actually made of glass. Now look again.’

  ‘It’s glowing!’

  ‘That’s caused by the bacteria that live on the sponge. The Venus Flower Basket is a kind of glowing tube made of glass lace that lives under the sea. Beautiful.’

  Jacob nodded. He’d never imagined such things existed.

  ‘Now look up, Jacob. Look at the Christmas tree. Really look at it. Everything you see is a gift.’

  Jacob buried his fingers in the archangel’s feathers, stroking their snowy whiteness. He stared at the tree. It was huge and the harder he looked, the bigger it seemed to get. There were so many presents, more than he would be able to count in a lifetime and now he knew that each and every one of them contained something wonderful, something alive.

  The icicles glittered and spun and caught his eye. He found he could see into them and there were scenes inside, waterfalls, canyons, deserts. There was one icicle he could hardly take his eyes off. A sunrise was playing over and over, midnight blue to purple, scarlet to orange to shining golden dawn.

  ‘Make sure you see lots of these,’ the angel whispered. The icicles shivered and spun at his breath. ‘They’re the day’s gift to you.’

  And suddenly Jacob knew it was over. The angel picked him up in strong hands and lifted him back down to the ground. The little monkey darted down his arm and into the shelter of the giant tree.

  ‘Thank you, Michael.’ Jacob didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t have enough words.

  ‘Did you like the presents?’ For the first time, the angel seemed anxious and his serene features had a worried cast.

  ‘It was like you gave me...’ Jacob paused, ‘the whole world.’

  Michael beamed. His skin shone brighter and the tips of his wings lifted a little.

  ‘That’s exactly right,’ he said. ‘But there is one thing I ask of you.’

  ‘Of course!’ Jacob was eager to do something for the angel, even though he was so small and he doubted there was anything an archangel could need.

  ‘Don’t forget these things, Jacob. Don’t forget the sunrises, the waterfalls. Don’t forget that even tiny little things like fig wasps are important. That precious things exist, even where no-one can see them, like under the sea.’

  ‘I told you I’d never forget!’ Jacob said fiercely. He looked into the angel’s dark, kind eyes and saw ash plains, crumbling buildings, hordes of people trudging a broken highway under a boiling sky. Deserts spread across the angel’s eyes and were replaced by an empty, angry sea. The sea rose and spilled and a single tear slid down Michael’s smooth cheek. The tear fell in slow motion and disappeared into the snow at their feet.

  ‘One more thing, Jacob. Would you like to choose something to take back with you?’

  Jacob’s chest expanded. He thought of the little monkey but remembered that it was very rare and it needed to go to its own home. Besides, his mother probably couldn’t afford to feed it.

  ‘There is one thing I’d like,’ he said. It was the only thing he’d ever wanted this Christmas.