Woo by Alison E Martin is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.
Woo made hungry noises with his lips. He kneaded his
Mothers breast to encourage her milk flow.
It was past his bedtime, but he couldn’t settle.
It took a while for him to drop off.
A floorboard creaked beneath his mothers weight and as she crept away, rough skin on the soles of her feet made scuffing sounds on the new carpet.
Woo heard her leaving his room, but he was too tired to fight sleep tonight. So sleep won.
It wasn’t long though, before he had his first visit of the night.
Ta ta ta was the noise on his window.
Woo woke up straight away because this was an unfamiliar sound.
He slid off his bed and toddled over to the small window.
He laid his tiny hands flat on the windowsill and came face to face with two little black eyes and a short beak that went ta ta ta on the glass.
“Hello” said Woo; in a language grown-ups didn’t quite understand.
“Hello” said a little brown bird with red all down its front.
“What are you?” Asked Woo.
“I’m a bird. What are you?” Asked the bird.
“I’m a baby,” said Woo. Then he asked the bird,
“What can you do?”
“ I can fly,” said the bird.
Woo widened his enormous brown eyes, and blinked.
“What can you do?” asked the bird.
“I can walk,” said Woo proudly, he padded up and down on the spot to demonstrate.
“What where you doing before?” asked the bird.
“I was having milk, from my mummy”
“Milk?”
“Yes, she keeps it under her jumper.”
“Jumper?”
“Yes, it keeps the milk warm.”
“Warm. Yes I know about warm.” Said the bird.
“Why are you here?” Asked Woo.
“I can’t sleep.” Said the bird.
“Are you afraid of something?” Asked Woo
“Never!” Snapped the bird’s tiny beak.
“Never?” Asked Woo.
“Do you see my chest?” Said the bird sticking it out. “There is a fire inside. A red hot fire that burns and burns and never goes out.”
Indeed it did glow a fierce bright red as he spoke.
“Maybe, that’s why you can’t sleep,” said Woo innocently.
The bird did not answer, but Woo felt heat through the glass.
“You seem to know a lot.” Said the bird.
“I know less and less each day.”
“How can that be?” Asked the bird.
“I don’t know.”
“Isn’t that annoying?” Asked the bird
“I think I am supposed to forget.”
“Who told you that?”
Woo paused and then said,
“I’ve forgotten who told me. But someone did.”
The bird glowed brighter than ever and then laughed. But it sounded like singing.
“Well I suppose you would forget the odd thing or two, if you had to remember new and serious things…like walking…”
“…Or flying!” Added Woo.
They settled on that matter and spoke about something else.
They chatted for an hour. Then Woo yawned and the bird said,
“I think you are tired.”
He yawned again and went back to bed.
He couldn’t sleep, so he toddled over to the door and tried to turn the handle, it was too difficult, so he cried.
His mother appeared at the door in seconds, plucked him from the carpet and settled him back into bed.
It was December. Frost covered everything and the garden twinkled in the lamplight. Soon it would all be under a snowy blanket.
But for now Woo was tucked under his woollen blanket.
He was warm, satisfied and dreaming of wings and the colour red.
He had not been asleep long when suddenly there was a noise at the window again, ta ta ta.
Woo stirred, turned onto his belly and curled up into a little ball.
The tapping started again.
Another visit? He opened his eyes and saw red light at the window. He sat up and glared with an intense frown.
The bird was back and he was hopping about on the windowsill.
Woo grinned. “ What are you doing?”
“I am dancing.” said the little bird.
Woo copied the bird’s movements, he fell onto his bottom and giggled.
“What did you do today?” Asked Woo watching the bird’s unusual dance.
“I ate the food you left for me in your garden and then I sat on a green gate outside a very big house and watched people come and go all day. Some of them were walking, but some arrived in fast, shiny things that growled, these things had wings too, usually four, and when the wings opened, people came out from behind them.”
“Wings? But didn’t they fly like you?” Asked Woo.
“Never, no… except one. It came from the sky last night, before the sun came up and landed on the roof! Then a man climbed out, a very big man, he was red, like me. He changed into white sparkly dust and went into the house!”
“If you changed into white sparkly dust could you get into this house?” Asked Woo.
“No I don’t think so.”
“You should try,” Suggested Woo.
So the little bird practised changing into sparkly dust by puffing out his feathers.
“Do I look like white sparkly dust now?” Asked the little bird.
“No.” Said Woo.
The little bird gave up trying and asked,
“What did you do today?”
“Today was nice.” Said Woo.
“How?”
“When I woke up I had my mummy’s milk….”
“…From under her jumper.” Remembered the little bird.
“Yes. Then she took me down stairs and everything was shiny and twinkling and everyone was gathered around a tree! I’ve ever seen a tree in the house before. There were lights on it and they were giving each other things.”
“Who?” Asked the bird.
“Everyone!”
“Did you get things?
“Yes I got things and kisses and everyone wanted to play with me!”
“That sounds wonderful,” said the bird.
Woo grinned with his eight teeth,
“It was.”
“I wonder if it was anything to do with the red man who changed into white sparkly dust.” Said the little bird.
Woo blinked hard and looked up at the sky. It reminded him of the dress his mother wore that day; dark blue velvet with sequins here and there, they shone whenever she moved.
Then he looked at the little bird and asked,
“Do you think the red man will come back?”
“I think he…”
And suddenly the little bird flew off without finishing his sentence.
Birds do that, particularly small ones; they get distracted, have no patience and don’t bother with too much explanation. .
Woo went back to bed. He curled up on top of the blankets.
The radiator ticked and creaked from time to time and Woo sighed in his sleep.
It was very late now and everyone in the house had gone to bed, Woo’s dad was the last to go. He stumbled by the tree and switched off the fairy lights. Then he finished his spicy mulled wine and made his way up the stairs.
He fumbled noisily with the stair gate, which annoyed Woo’s mother and then he switched off all the upstairs lights.
In Woo’s room there was a tapping sound on the window again.
It got louder and louder until Woo suddenly sat up, rubbed his puffy eyes and glared intensely at the window.
Ta ta ta…went the noise.
“Is that you?” Asked Woo, in a language that grown ups did not understand.
“Yes.” Said the little bird flapping at the window. “I have something very important to tell you.” His chest glowed brighter than ever.
“What is it?” Asked Woo.
“I think he only comes once a year!”
“Who?” Asked Woo, feeling very sleepy now.
“The red man.”
“Oh”
“But look!” The little bird flew down to the garden.
Woo went to the window and gasped, “sparkly white dust!”
“Yes, It’s everywhere. I think the red man left it for us.” Said the little bird.
“I wish I could have some now.” Asked Woo.
“Maybe it will still be there in the morning.”
“But what if it isn’t there?” Said Woo sadly.
“Then I will save some for you,” Promised the little bird.
They settled on that matter and spoke for only little longer, as Woo could not keep his eyes open.
“What is your name?” Asked the little bird, before he left.
“Woo.” Said the baby.
The little bird’s chest glowed with a warmth that made Woo feel very loved.
“Go to sleep now Woo.” And then he flew away.
The little boy climbed onto his blanket once more and a second later he was asleep, dreaming of wings and the colour red.
In the morning, droplets of rain on the window gleamed in the sunlight and Woo woke up with thoughts of his mummy and breakfast.
He’d forgotten all about the magical little bird that had shared secrets with him in the night and there was no sign of any sparkly white dust in the garden to remind him.
And so the day went on with it’s routine and a rhythm that made Woo feel safe.
In the nights that followed he slept soundly, and the little bird did not return.
Years later when Woo was ten, he was sitting with his grandfather in the living room. It was Christmas Eve and they had been playing a game of guessing what the presents were.
“Ok Granddad, what’s this then?” Asked Woo and he held up a package that was shaped exactly like a football.
Granddad sucked air in through his false teeth,
“Well, that’s obvious what that is, isn’t it…it’s a book! One of them dictionaries you wanted for school.” He peered naughtily over the rim of his specs.
“A book!” Woo Shrieked.
His Granddad laughed and then was silent for a few seconds.
He sunk into his armchair with a satisfied smile and nodded to himself.
And then looking thoughtfully at his grandson he said,
“I want to ask you a very important question.”
“What is it Granddad?” Asked the boy.
“Do you believe in…Father Christmas?”
Woo thought for bit and then said,
“I used to, I’m not sure.”
“Is that right?” Asked granddad, “Well, now might be a good time to be sure, Eh? After all it is Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Agreed Woo.
“Well don’t suppose too much son, it’s getting late, you’d better get off to bed.”
“Oh granddad, can I stay up for another half hour with you?” Woo pleaded.
“No, it’s time you headed on up, I’ll follow after, don’t worry”
Woo got up to kiss his granddad and as he passed the window he grabbed the curtain and pulled it aside to look.
“Granddad! It’s snowing. Look!” Cried Woo
His granddad got up to join him at the window.
“Ah yes. First time in years it’s done that in years. Just in time too. It looks just like sparkly white dust”
Woo felt as though stars had just burst in his belly, he stared at his granddad.
“What is it son?” Asked granddad
“Sparkly white dust. I know that, I’ve heard that before.”
“Really?” Said granddad.
“I don’t remember where though.” Said Woo feeling a little confused.
“I think you are tired.” Said his granddad.
“Mmmm, ok, good night granddad.” Said woo shaking his head. He hugged the old man and went to bed.
On Christmas day Woo woke up at eight o’clock. He ran down stairs to open his presents.
Granddad was sitting at the window drawing.
“Morning sunshine.” He said, “Your mum got me some new some pencils!”
“Great! I’ve got a new football!”
“Not books then?” Granddad joked.
“Where’s all the snow?” Asked Woo.
“It rained early this morning.” Said granddad.
“Oh” Woo was disappointed, then he asked his granddad,
“What are you drawing?”
“A Robin, look.” He showed the picture of a little bird with a bright red chest.
“Where did you see that?’ Asked the boy feeling strange again.
“In the pine tree this morning, bottom of the garden, by that last patch of sn…”
“ Sparkly white dust!” Said Woo, running out, “The bird said he’d save me some! I don’t know how I remember that, but I do. He never told me where he’d left it.”
Woo charged outside just as his Granddad called after him,
“What about my question!”
“What?” Shouted Woo from the garden.
“Do you believe in Father Christmas?”
As Woo delved his bare hands into the freezing heap of sparkling white dust, he felt warmer than ever before and cried out,
“YES I DO!”
