The Girl and The Little Red Fox

I felt good and sweaty as I zipped along the quiet roads towards Grandmother’s house. I’d switched up the gears on my bike to make it feel like I was pushing against something. I needed to feel that today. Usually I would be surrounded on either side by great looming forests, oak and birch trees towering above me up into the skies but instead I cycled past wasteland, felled trees, where the tender care and love generations of grandfathers had sown into the soil for their sons and their sons sons lay dead and smashed into the ground. Some of the trees were still standing and as I whizzed past a small copse a large moose dashed out on to the road and jumped, soaring over me missing my head by a hairsbreadth, and my nose was filled with the scent of pine and animal, hairs raining down on me as the moose landed in a sort of pile and lolloped off into the barren wasteland.

I swerved into the tiny neighbourhood where Grandmother’s perfectly white home stood. The cottage was very pretty, with its own little garden, beautifully tended and a pale porch. Around it were similar houses, with other people’s grandmothers and grandfathers tending to their flowers, baking bread and napping among the dahlias as bees bumbled about sleepily.

As I neared the house and jumped off my bike I saw Grandmother coming out to greet me, wearing her apron, her hands caked in flour.

“Eloise!” She waved. I left my bike in the garden and ran up the steps and into her chunky, strong arms. Grandmother was the only person in my life who really understood me. She was always happy to see me and I loved hearing her stories about the old days. Grandmother had had 17 children and many adventures along the way.

“My Lilla Flicka!” Lilla means small in Swedish and Flicka means girl. Grandmother has always called me her Lilla Flicka.

“Are you hungry for Fika?” Fika is when Swedes have coffee and cake. They have Fika at 10 in the morning, just before lunch, a little after lunch, always between lunch and dinner and then once more between dinner and bed.

“Yes Grandmother!” I nodded. I can smell the freshly baked cinnamon buns coming from her warm kitchen.

We sit together scoffing buns and sipping black coffee.

“So, Lilla Flicka,” asks Grandmother eyeing me. “What is new?”

“I’m going to summer camp with everyone!” I say through a mouthful of sweet sticky dough, possibly my fourth. Summer camp was the one thing I was looking forward to this summer. I had been sneakily saving every penny from chores, sweet money and birthday money to pay for it myself.

“Who is everyone?” Asks Grandmother surprised.

“All the cool people. And Alissa.”

“Cool! What is this cool you are so interested in,” she asked, her eyes sparkling at me. “Am I cool enough for you? Can I come to your summer camp?” She chuckles and I snort coffee through my nose which makes her laugh even more.

“So! Who is the nice boy at summer camp?” Her blue eyes sparkled in a very naughty way. How did she know about Ake? I hadn’t told anyone about him. I faltered not knowing what to say but was saved by a voice from the hallway.

“Hello! Is that Bulla I smell, freshly baked?” My dad walked in and have his mother a warm hug.

“What are you talking about?” He said, stuffing a very large bun into his mouth. Dad liked to know everything that was going on with the family.

“Eloise was telling me about summer camp.”

“Summer camp? Oh really?” Said dad and I knew instantly that something was wrong.

“Yes,” I said, sitting straighter. “All my friends are going. I’ve been saving up. I can pay for it myself.” Dad raised his eyebrows. He didn’t like me talking about money all the time.

“How much is it?” He asked quietly. Grandmother got up to make more coffee, as though she could sense another storm coming to fell me.

“3000 kroner.”

“And you have 3000 kroner?” Asked dad. “Wow. You are rich.”

I sagged a little in my seat. I didn’t have 3000 kroner. I had 2500. But I was almost there. I had hoped that maybe dad would fund the rest.

“Maybe you can save your money for a new bike,” said dad, smiling as Grandmother handed him a strong coffee.

“Why would I do that?” I asked slowly. I could feel something bubbling up inside me. A gnawing creature that was crawling its way up my stomach. Dad sat back and smiled, that smile he always gives when he’s about to tell us something nobody will like.

“We are going to the lake house this summer. As a family. Your cousins will be there.” The creature growled, a warning inside me that shivered through my body.

“I don’t want to go to the lake house. Dad, I’ve been wanting to go with my friends all year. It’s important. If I don’t go, I’ll miss out on everything.” I didn’t say the part that really mattered. That if I didn’t go I would be even more left out than I am now. Even Alissa, who was technically my best friend was a little more distant after she went to parties with the other girls I wasn’t allowed to go to. A whole two weeks away with wild adventures and she would come back somebody else’s friend. I would be forgotten.

“Eloise,” dad’s voice had an edge to it. “We shall be a family this summer no arguments.” The creature lost it.

“Why do you always do this!” I shouted, standing up suddenly and knocking over Grandmother's pot of black coffee. It went all over the table, all over the white table cloth and down dad’s pristine white shirt.

“Eloise!” Dad was so angry! “In the car! We are going home!”

“Daniel,” Grandmother’s voice was calm, trying to lower the tone.

“I hate you!” I yelled and stormed out the kitchen. I stood in the corridor for a few moments seething. I could hear dad and Grandmother talking, dad’s high tense voice, hers softer, trying to calm him down. She popped out into the corridor to grab a teacloth from the drawer and saw me standing there, tears streaming down my face. I looked at her sadly.

“Isn’t he unfair Grandmother?” I said, knowing she would understand, knowing she would be on my side. She stopped for a moment and I saw an expression I had never seen before cross her face.

“You must learn to control that temper of yours Eloise,” she said quietly. “If you don’t, one day it might control you. Maybe some time with family is what you need this summer.” And she went back into the kitchen, leaving me there, crying, hot and embarrassed and furious. Grandmother! Grandmother who always took my side, who always knew when I was upset, who told me stories when that girl Hannah hit me in the face at school, who let me stay over when mum and dad were fighting too much. The creature inside was like a wild animal now. All the anger I had at school, at mum and dad for moving us here, at the kids for making fun of my accent, at Alissa for not being more loyal, all these thoughts bubbled up and now I was angry at Grandmother too. How dare she! How dare she tell me what I should do! She knew what summer camp meant, that it was bigger than a holiday and she STILL took dad’s side. Just because he was her son. I was never important enough to anyone. Everyone always chose someone else. Stupid old woman. What did she do with her life? Bake cookies and cake and help people! How boring! I turned to go to the car but something caught my eye on the sideboard. It was something shiny, sticking out of the drawer where Grandmother kept her stationary. A necklace. I pulled at it. It came out. A gold necklace. I started as I heard dad saying something loudly in the distance. They were coming this way. They were laughing quietly now, together as if nothing had happened, as if I didn’t matter. I hated them. I felt the necklace cold in my hand and suddenly I was stuffing it in my shorts pocket and storming out towards the car. I opened the passenger door and threw myself in, slamming it behind me, my heart pounding and pounding against my chest as if it might break free and tear across the garden. Grandmother came out to see dad off and she waved at me from the porch but I didn’t wave back. I wanted her to know how angry I was at her. I wished dad would hurry. What if she noticed the necklace was gone. Dad put my bike on the bike rack and got into the driver’s seat.

“Fasten your seatbelt” he said curtly. I did and we slowly pulled away from Grandmothers house where she stood, still waving and smiling at us from the porch. She even tried to catch my gaze but I didn’t look at her. I didn’t wave back, not once. As we drove away I looked out the window in silence and felt that necklace burning and burning in my pocket.

I was in my bedroom drawing a doodle of Ake when I heard the front door opening, dad’s voice low and welcoming - someone he knew and mum joining him from the kitchen, her voice high and excited. Then I heard another voice. Grandmother. Grandmother had come to visit. I quietly put down my pad and pencil and crept over to the door. As slowly and as quietly as I could I turned the key in the lock. I didn’t want to see her.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying apart from a few stray words, “How…get here…” from dad and then “bus…not a problem” from Grandmother and then they moved into the living room where all I could hear was muffled voices. I pressed my ear harder against the door but it was no good. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Suddenly my heart sank. What if Grandmother has discovered the missing jewellery. I wondered if I should unlock the door after all. I didn’t want to seem suspicious if she had come to accuse me. I went and flopped onto my bed, frustrated because I had just been about to go and get a snack and now I couldn’t and suddenly I felt like I hadn’t eaten all day. I mooshed my face into Ake’s cartoon face and pretended to make out with him. Then suddenly I leapt up because I heard footsteps on the stairs and a creak of the floorboard just outside my room.

“Lilla Flicka?” Grandmother! She was outside my door.

“Are you there? I just wanted to say hello.”

I held my breath and lay super still. There was a long silence. I could see Grandmother’s face even though the door was shut, I knew she would be looking the way she looks when someone is rude to her in a shop, or when she sees sad news on the telly or when mum and dad fight in front of her. The face she wore when she was upset but trying really hard not to show it. I wanted so badly to open the door and throw my arms around her and say I was sorry. But then I remembered the way she had spoken to me. And besides, if I opened the door I would have to tell her what I’d done. There was no way I could keep it secret with her standing looking sad. So I tried not to breath and kept ever stop still that my muscles hurt.

“You must be asleep Lilla Flicka,” she said finally through the door. We both knew that was a lie. If I were asleep why would she talk to me. “So I will not disturb you,” she continued. “I brought you something I will leave it out here for you.” I heard a little clink. Footsteps walking away to the top of the stairs. Then a pause.

“Goodnight my Lilla Flicka,” said Grandmother. “I love you very much.”

I heard her heavy steps all the way down the stairs and I lay on my bed my face wet with tears.

When I had heard the door shut and I was sure she had gone and everyone had brushed their teeth and gone to bed, I slipped across the room quietly and peeked out of my room. On the floor outside my door stood a little statue. I recognised it. It was one of Grandmother’s statues she keeps all over the house, but this one was my favourite. It was of a little girl with big curly red hair, playing with a little red fox that was climbing all over her. I carefully picked up the little statue took it inside and placed it on my desk. Then I sat on the bed and cried and cried.

It was very early next morning when I felt dad gently nudging me awake. His eyes were red. He had been crying.

“Eloise. I’m so very sorry.” After the funeral, I didn’t feel like seeing anyone. Alissa came over her and asked for me, I heard her downstairs but when dad cracked open my bedroom door and peered in I just shook my head and hid under the covers. He slipped away and I heard his lower tones gently turning Alissa away. I peeked through the blinds. Snow had started to fall and my stomach turned as I saw Alissa pushing her bike towards Ake. Ake! Ake had come with her! To see me! She said something to him, shaking her head and nodding towards the house and then they got on their bikes and rode off together. Summer camp tomorrow. Hard to believe I’d ever care about that now. It seemed so desperately unimportant.

Not with Grandmother being dead and all.

I slithered back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. Why on earth had I ever taken that necklace? And now it was all too late. She would never know. I could never tell Grandmother what I did and how sorry I was. And even worse than that, I had ignored her. She had died believing I was still angry with her. That I didn’t love her. Hot tears dripped down my face and made my pillow uncomfortably wet. I was too dramatic to wipe them away. Getting rid of my guilty tears seemed in some way to lessen their tragic purpose. Outside the snow continued to fall thicker and thicker and slowly I drifted to sleep.

I woke to a strange scream. My room was freezing. Shivering, I got out of bed, threw on my puffy coat and peered out the window. We had a lamp in our garden. Mum called it the Narnia lamp. I have no idea what that means but I’m guessing it’s out of some sort of 1980s music video or something. It lit up the garden and the whole garden was white, covered in at least 3 foot of snow. Fresh snow, like flour. So fresh that there were no marks except for a few paw prints leading away from the house. My eyes followed them until I saw what had woken me from my tragic sleep. It was a little red fox, sitting calmly in front of the house. It had the prettiest softest face, crisp red fur and black markings around it’s muzzle. A dollop of snow fell from the pear tree it was under and that seemed to excite the creature. It jumped a foot in the air, snapping madly at the offensive and fast dissipating and began to bounce like a spring lamb. Then it rolled around on its back in the snow. It was playing. I bit my lip. I felt a calmness I hadn’t known since all the terribleness. Maybe even before then. Before we came here. It was stupid but the fox made me happy and I just wanted to be closer to that happiness. I pulled on my thick waterproof snow trousers, thick thermal socks and snow boots, threw a thick jumper over my thin nightshirt and zipped up my coat. I very carefully and quietly crept downstairs, easing the front door open, grabbing a woolly hat and scarf as I ever so gently shut the door behind me.

The fox sat up straight and froze when it saw me.

“Hey little fox,” I whispered, standing very still. “It’s ok. I don’t want to hurt you.” The fox tilted its head at me as though it understood. Then it sat back on it’s haunches and looked at me, expectantly. I very, very slowly took one step forward. It seemed unbothered. So I took another step. It was on step three that the fox bounded away towards the forest. I don’t know what came over me. There was no way I was ever going to catch a flipping fox! Me, the master of wriggling out of sports class. But I felt vaguely annoyed. How dare the fox take my moment of happiness away with it. I wanted to keep feeling happy so very badly. So I ran after the red frenzy, as hard and as fast I could following deeper and deeper into the snowy wood.