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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1480787-The-Majestic-Oak
by Pammi
Rated: E · Short Story · Writing · #1480787
1st story I ever wrote 12 years ago.
George sat staring into the flames roaring in the fireplace. Brandy in one hand, cigar in the other. It was Christmas Eve and it seemed like he would never make it home.. Home, it was only 30 miles away, but the snow had caused havoc on the roads, and there was no way to get through. Even the phone lines were down, and so was his mobile network, so he couldn't call his wife to let her know. It was lucky that he had found this pub open.



It was strange however, that in all the years he had been travelling on this route, he had never noticed it before. He wondered how he could have overlooked such a quaint building. He had been drawn to it by the sudden appearance of light in the otherwise totally black night sky. It was hidden behind a large Oak tree and some bushes.



George parked the car, got his torch form the glove compartment, and proceeded through the undergrowth to the door. With the light from his torch and also the light cast by the windows, he could vaguely make out that this was an old fashioned cottage, with thatched roof, picket fence, and small windows. He walked up the path and knocked on the door. He suddenly felt a little uneasy. What if the owner didn't like strangers?. What if he thought George was a madman?. What would happen if the owner was a madman?. He was just about to leave when the door opened. Light burst forth from within and spread all around bringing life to the darkness.



"Welcome to the Majestic Oak sir. It's a dreadful night to be out, and I wasn't expecting any customers this evening. Come in and sit by the fire while I get you a drink."



The elderly man shuffled to the bar while George looked around. Removing his coat he walked towards the stool by the side of the roaring fire. The room was lit by oil lamps which flickered, causing shadows to dance on the walls. The furniture was sparse. A few wooden tables and stools scattered about. It had a low ceiling which had caused George to stoop when he walked in.



"Here you are sir One large brandy, that'll soon warm you up."



"Thank you." As he sipped at the drink a warm glow spread through his body. His fingers started to tingle as he began to get some feeling back in them.



George studied the old man. He had a feeling he had seen him somewhere before. He was fairly short with grey receding hair. His face was wrinkled and his eyes seemed to hold an element of mystery about them. They were certainly an unusual colour. A kind of blue-black tinged with green. He sat down on the stool opposite George.



"Feeling better now sir? that's the ticket. Now then, what on earth are you doing out here in this weather? and on Christmas Eve too!"



George looked up from the flames. He hadn't noticed the Spruce standing stately in the corner. The tinsel and baubles sparkled in the firelight, giving it a magical air.



"How long has this pub been here? I'm a sales rep and I've been driving along this stretch of road for the past 5 years, and I can honestly say that I've never noticed it before." He finished his brandy.



"Well sir, it's been here as long as that Oak tree has been outside, hence the name. I would say that the tree is about 200 years old now. What do you sell?"



George felt uneasy. His job was really in land acquisitions. He would buy up land or properties for re-development, but in view of the fact that this place was so old, and that the man may feel threatened, he decided to say something different.



"I sell computers. I had to deliver one today to a lady who wanted it as a present for her husband."



Really he had been finalising agreements with a landowner for work to start after the holiday on a new American-style holiday centre with log cabins made from local trees.



"Oh I see." the man nodded in recognition of the situation. "Where was that then?"



George was getting a little angry now with all the questions.



"I'm sorry, I'm not being nosey, I'm just trying to make conversation. It's going to be a long night. Longer if you don't even want to talk."



"No." George was repentant. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm just tired, hungry, and I know my wife and children are waiting anxiously at home for me. In fact they'll be getting really worried by now."



"I'm sure they'll be fine sir. I'll go and see if I can rustle you up some soup and bread."



"That would be lovely. Thank you."



After George had eaten his fill of the delicious home made broth, he sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he got up and walked to the window. The scene that appeared before him made him gasp in surprise. He thought he must be dreaming, or that his eyes were playing tricks on him, so he screwed them up tight and opened them again.

********************************************



It was daytime and the streets were a hive of activity. Girls were dressed in long dresses with matching or co-ordinating bonnets and mufflers. Boys wore short trousers, shirts and jackets with flat caps on their heads.



They were making snowballs, snowmen and dancing or running around in circles. Men and women were dressed in similar attire, except that some wore suits and top hats.



In the centre of the street stood a glorious tree festooned with baubles and ribbons. Boxes were wrapped to look like gifts beneath. There was a group of carol singers standing around the tree, singing joyously of the forthcoming event.



The scene reminded George of stories his Grandfather used to tell him about 'the old days'. He thought he could easily have just stepped into a Christmas card as this was where he had seen this kind of setting before.



Suddenly he heard music and voices from behind him. Turning he saw that the room was full of men and women. Some had drinks, some singing. An old lady huddled in one corner appeared to be reading people's palms. George was confused, and tried to find the old man. Everyone seemed oblivious to the fact that he was in the room. All except the old lady.



"Come here young man." She called to him in a quivering voice.



She was sitting with her shoulder's hunched, and George noticed that she had a hump on her back. Her long, bony fingers were distorted, and her long fingernails and straggly hair made her look almost like a witch.



George walked reluctantly towards her, confused and dazed by all the strange events that were befalling him.



"Sit down." she said with an authoritative air. Pointing to the stool at the opposite side of the small table.



"Who are you? What's happening to me?"



"Just sit down and be quiet. We've been waiting for you for a long time."



George was scared but tried not to show it.



"Why?. What do you mean, Waiting for me?"



"All will be revealed in time. Now, look around you."



George looked as the room fell silent.



"Tell me, do you recognise anyone?"



George turned back to the old lady.



"No, I don't think so. Why?"



"Well you should. Some of these people are your ancestors, some are not. You have destroyed many people's lives during the past five years, and soon it will be our turn."



"What do you mean? How have I destroyed anybody's life?"



George was full of questions, but didn't seem to be getting many answers.



"This is ridiculous!" he raged. "I don't know whose idea this game was, but it isn't funny anymore!"



With that he grabbed his coat and stormed out of the pub and headed to where he had parked the car. It wasn't there.



"Okay." he called "The game's up. A joke's a joke, but you've gone too far now. If you're behind this Sid, you'll be really sorry in the New Year!"



"It's no good shouting."



George turned to find the old lady behind him.



"We lured you into our world, and you may well be staying. Come with me and I'll try to explain."



They walked through the village. The old lady hobbling alongside a very disgruntled George. Stopping to listen to the carol singers. George admired the tree. It's colours a striking contrast to the whiteness underfoot. A little boy came and stood next to him and stared up in wonderment at the bright star perched on top.



The old lady turned to him.



"I'm sure you've realised by now that this is not the present day. We are here living our lives alongside your own. Two eras running concurrently, oblivious to each other. Until the inevitable happens."



"What do you mean, inevitable?"



"Progress. That's what I mean. Your world's constant desire for improvement and expansion. It's not just your fault. These things have been happening for years, but now we feel the time has come to try and stop it before it's too late."



George was amazed. "How?"



"Simple. We have enticed you and many others like you from around the world, back through the mists of time. We hope, that by showing you some of what you are destroying, it may make you think again about re-structuring forest, lakes and derelict buildings. A lot of these places are the centres of our worlds, and by destroying them you kill even more of us."



"I'm so sorry." George shook his head. "I had absolutely no idea. How will bringing me here help?"



"Well, the large Oak outside the pub is the way in and out of our world for you. You must return to your own time and try to end this destruction."



"That's impossible for one man!. An ordinary man at that!"



"We know. This is why hundreds like you have been chosen. It may be too late for your generation, but you can educate your children, and your children's children to stop and think. Do they really need to develop on that particular plot, or can they improve an already established site?. Make them think about the wildlife as well. They may not believe you about our world, but they cannot ignore the plight of the animals. Many have already become extinct because of the devastation caused by your machines. How would you feel if your home was suddenly mown down? YOU'VE GOT TO MAKE THEM UNDERSTAND!"



George found himself standing outside the pub again. The oak stood tall and proud ahead of him. "What had the old lady said?" he thought to himself. "The oak was the way back to my world." He walked over and, looking up towards the branches that rose toward a colourless sky, he suddenly felt dizzy. The tree started spinning. He fell to the floor.



On opening his eyes, George found himself sitting behind the wheel in his car. It had stopped snowing, and the moon was now shining down on the road.



"I must have been dreaming." he said aloud. Then he saw it. The Majestic Oak, it's branches arching across the road. Next to it he saw the outline of a little old woman waving him onward.



*******************************************



"George! Where on earth have you been? I've been worried sick. You look awful. What's happened to you?"



"To be honest Mary I'm not quite sure. Are the boys alright?"



"They're fine. I've tucked them up in bed and they're waiting for you to say goodnight before they go off to sleep. You go on up and I'll make you a nice hot chocolate, then you can tell me all about it."



After saying goodnight to the boys, George went downstairs and sat down. He started to explain what had happened, and Mary listened in amazement.



"Are you sure you didn't have one too many Christmas drinks at work George? that really is an incredible tale. The children will love it!"



"It's not just a matter of them enjoying it, they've got to understand it as well. They must try and stop this constant fight for advancement. If they can't stop it, then they must at least slow it down. If they don't there may well not be a world left for their grandchildren to live in, and there won't be one for us either!"



"Oh George. I don't know what to make of all this, but right now it's Christmas Eve. The presents need placing under the tree, and I think an early night is in order so that we are fresh for the morning."



"Yes, you're right."



After they had put the finishing touches to the presents, they went to the door. Switching off the light, George looked at the tree. It too stood proud, and he felt as if it  knew about the strange turn of events today. "Things will change. I promise." he whispered to whomever was listening. Then he climbed the stairs to bed.



As he slept, George dreamt of how many times in the past 5 years he had signed agreements with land and property owners, for them to allow drastic changes to certain areas of land. How many lives, human or animal had he ended?. He dreamt of people running from bulldozers, but to them they were giant monsters, as these types of machine had not existed in their time. He saw animals returning to their lairs after hunting expeditions, only to find them destroyed and, in some cases their young ones dead.



He woke with a jump. His skin was clammy, and his heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst under the strain. "That's it." he said aloud. "In the New Year I'm resigning from the company. Maybe I can start my own campaign in schools and colleges. It'll be a start anyway." He felt a little better then and drifted back off to sleep.



********************************



"Mum, Dad! He's been!" The children came running into the bedroom.



"Merry Christmas darlings" Mary sat up and nudged George.



"Come on Dad it's Christmas! Come and see what we've got."



George opened one eye and looked at the clock. It was only 6.30am, and with the restless night he'd had he could've done with another couple of hours. Still, it is Christmas day and he didn't want to disappoint the boys. Anyway, he had an important story to tell them after dinner.



"Okay, okay, I'm awake. Merry Christmas boys. Mary." He leant over and kissed her gently.



"Oh come on you two we want to go downstairs!"



George and Mary slipped on their robes and slippers and descended the stairs to the sounds of "Wow!, Cool! and Magic!"



As the initial excitement waned, and all the gifts had been opened, inspected and tossed aside ready for the next one, Mary went into the kitchen to start preparing dinner. The boys  played with their new toys and games, and George sat contemplating the enormous task that lay ahead of him. He could start straight away by tearing up the contract in his briefcase and informing the owner of the land he'd just acquired that the deal had fallen through. He felt a huge weight already lifting from his shoulders, and went to help Mary in the kitchen.



After they had eaten the succulent feast Mary had prepared, He decided that now was the time to tell the boys. They listened attentively and, when he had finished, George sat waiting for the inevitable laughter and silly questions.



"Okay Dad. Can we go back and play now?"



George sighed, he knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he thought he'd get some kind of response.



When everything was cleared away, friends arrived with their children. As they were playing with some building bricks, what George heard made his heart fill with joy.



"So you see John." one of the boys was saying. "If we build this here, we'll have to knock down all these old trees and this old church." He was pointing to other things they'd already made.



John looked at him. "Yeah, so what's wrong with that then?"



"My dad says, people live there. Special people we can't see, and we'll kill them if we do. That's what!"



George smiled. "You know Mary, It's going to be a long hard road to travel but I think we'll get there in the end."



"I'm sure we will George."



He raised his glass. "Merry Christmas to you all, Wherever you are!"



END



2795 words                                                                                       
© Copyright 2008 Pammi (pamelap at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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