Cuckoo

The Two Trees

Sarah followed Ethel up another set of stairs, where a dark wooden door stood between them and whatever was in the attic. Ethel took an old silver key from her cardigan pocket and turned it in the lock. Click.

Cobwebs broke as she pushed the door open, flowing in the draught, and she pulled on the light switch. The light buzzed as it turned on, and moths- which had been locked in from last time Ethel went in there – began hitting against the bare bulb.

"The tree is just at the back over there," Ethel said as she pointed to the back of the attic, where the light did not reach. "Heres a flashlight so you can see," she said as she picked a dusty torch up from the floor, her nails tapping against its metal ribs.

Sarah took the flashlight, and walked towards the back of the attic, the moths still clanging against the light behind her.

Then the sound of the two cuckoos coming out of their homes, caused Ethel to rush out the attic, locking it behind her.

"Grandma!" Sarah said as she ran to the door, pulling at the doorknob. Dust fell from the beams as she shook the door, and she could hear Ethel downstairs saying "Cuckoo, cuckoo."

Sarah's chest was pulsating almost as fast as the moths wings fluttered as they remained hypnotised by the light. Sarah panned the flashlight around the attic, where cardboard boxes were stacked up, the shadows cast upon them, making it look like something was moving inside them.

She moved across the rickety floorboards, which felt as if they might break and send her falling through the ceiling, making her way to where the tree was.

She could still hear her Grandma saying cuckoo over and over, as if she was an excited kid seeing a cuckoo clock in action for the first time. The flashlight illuminated the trees box; the box itself faded from age, the green faux pines poking out from the top.

Sarah pulled it out from the alcove which it was in, moving it into the light so she could put the flashlight down and make use of both her hands.

She moved it to the door, and thumped on it again. "Grandma! I've got the tree, come on, let's decorate it!" she said as tears began to form in her eyes. The door was the only thing not decaying like the rest of the room, and she would definitely not be able to break it down, even if she kicked at it for the rest of her life. She could hear the wind picking up outside, as it rumbled through the tiles upon the roof, she could feel the cold air rising up against her feet.

"Grandma! Please! Open the door!"

She then heard her Grandma run up the stairs. Fast. She sounded Faster than was physically suggested from her varicose veins and stiff joints, which made her shuffle across the floor.

Sarah took a step back, as she heard her Grandma's laboured breathing outside the attic door, the key then turning inside the lock.

The door opened, and Ethel was stood outside, smiling.

"Well, bring it downstairs then, I have the decorations downstairs, all ready," Ethel said as she caught her breath.

Sarah just stared at Ethel, her lungs gradually calming themselves, for her brain was feeling fluffy. The veins within her skull throbbed, like the varicose ones on her Grandmother's legs, as they warped in Sarah's anxious vision.

Sarah then dragged the tree downstairs, the box bumping down each step. When she went into the lounge, the fire was roaring, as if her Grandmother had poured propellant on the coals.

"Where we putting it," Sarah asked.

"Just here," Ethel said as she pointed to the empty space beside the fireplace in the corner.