Author's note: I want to thank all those who have read this far. I know you're out there. You're just very, very quiet. Of course, special thanks to those who wrote reviews.
Through the blinding rain Digory could see that the apple tree had been snapped like a twig by the force of the wind. The jagged, splintered break was some three feet above the ground. He could also see that by the tree Stephen and William were lying on the wet grass. "Get up! You'll catch pneumonia out here." Digory pulled them to their feet. They seemed exhausted and disoriented. Polly was there as soon as Stephen was standing to fold him into her arms.
Digory and Polly hustled the boys inside. Digory built a small fire in the fireplace of the sitting room. The boys' clothes were not as wet as they had feared. They had apparently returned to Earth at about the same time as the breaking of the tree. They were wearing their English clothes again, as if they had never been away.
Digory looked uneasily from one boy to another but he saw that each was so focused on his own thoughts that they might as well have been living in different worlds. The four of them sat in front of the fire with the silence only broken by the crackling of the flames. Polly fretted to see Stephen so pale and drained. His dark eyes were fixed on the dancing flames. He was aware of his mother's attention but he did not look up. Polly caught Digory's expression. Clearly, something very troubling had occurred to the boys in Narnia. He wanted very much to question them but he knew he had to approach gently.
The two boys sat on different chairs and would not look at one another. Stephen felt a sort of physical revulsion towards William. Being aware of the presence of the other boy made muscles all over his body tense, and it was difficult for him to breathe evenly.
"I think it's time I tell what happened," William stated in a decisive tone. Looking off into the distance, he proceeded to tell the story of the boys' time in Narnia. He spoke calmly and thoughtfully. For the first time since they had returned home Stephen looked at him steadily. For Polly and Digory it was a stark and distressing history. When it came to describing the events of the last hour in the glade, William's voice faltered. His mind retreated in horror from the fatal blow. He forced himself on, his voice choked as he tried to master his tears, and managed to get out enough for Polly and Digory to understand.
Polly saw that Stephen's body at times trembled with anger. She went over to Stephen and held his face to her body.With someone to confide in, the tension in his body dissolved and his tears gave expression to his feelings of helplessness. "I thought it was my job to save her, but the opposite happened. Aslan said not to blame myself. She was like a goddess. I can't believe she could be dead."
Digory sat on the chesterfield where Polly was holding her son. He reached over to squeeze Stephen's arm. Digory said, "I don't know if this will be much comfort to you—it's the sort of thing that professors like to talk about—but I don't think Alma can truly be killed. She is the Tree of Life. Aslan told me so himself. That form of her existence may be ended but life will always find a way to renew itself." Stephen looked up at him, eyes watery but bright. He thought the words were beautiful.
"I can't bear to think what a terrible time the people of Narnia will go through," said Polly. "I will say a prayer for them every night." She thought of the four thrones in an empty room in a castle that couldn't be entered. It would be their only sign of hope through those long years.
They heard William's voice again. "I remember something else now. At the roadside I told Rengist that he never thanked me for my help against the centaur, but I'm thinking, I never thanked him for saving me and giving me a chance to get to the Tree. I'll never be able to thank him. Rengist died so that I could have a chance—but, well, you know what came of it." The weight of emotions William had undergone that day could not be held back and he gave in to soft crying.
Words came back to Digory that he had heard once before. He also remembered the rich, liquid voice that spoke them. The words were, 'Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.' Digory stole over to the armchair where William was sitting. William was wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Barely able to contain his own emotions, Digory reached an arm around William's shoulders. The boy was surprised but did not shrink from the contact. Digory said, "At least you won't have to explain to your father about the chain mail." William looked at his clothes in wonder again and cracked a smile.
"We four are united by our grief for those who have fallen and for Narnia," said Digory. "We are keepers of her memory here on Earth."
It seemed a very long day to the boys. It was now late in the afternoon. William said, "My Dad will be expecting me home for dinner."
"If he asks, say you've been spending time with your eccentric neighbor. If you have the chance, come around some time and I'll tell you about my and Polly's visits to Narnia." William nodded thankfully.
After dinner Polly and Digory stood in the yard to enjoy the evening light. The storm had departed as suddenly as it had blown up, in time for the sunset to paint the sky in the west a brilliant orange beneath the remaining clouds. Digory paced about, looking worried. Polly asked him what was wrong.
"It's ghastly thinking of the tree nymph dying like that, but I don't grieve the way I thought I would."
"It was a long time ago in a different world."
"Yes, I know that, but the boys loved Alma with such heartfelt devotion. I was never like that, not really. I have always been too selfish. I manage to end up neglecting women and they drift away from me. You, on the other hand, have sacrificed so much for Edward and your family."
"I must admit I've thought the same thing. But I know it isn't true. You forget what a passionate boy you were. I saw how deeply devoted you were to your mother, through her sickness and her good health. You are as loving and selfless as any. Do not blame yourself for what was not meant to be."
"And then there's you. I mustn't forget that I've been loyal to you for a very long time. Of course, that's different."
"Yes, of course." Polly had a merry smile that left Digory a little puzzled.
"Knowing that you are near I feel much calmer." He reached for Polly's hand and held it in his own. "You will stay near me, won't you, Polly? Where would I be in this wilderness without you?"
Polly's hand felt thin and frail. She had raised two young children through the Great War with Edward away. It would be years before Stephen was finished school. She was not so young. What a burden she had on her mind with another war looming.
Digory paused as the two stood together. Then he spoke again. "I'm worried about the situation in Europe. I can't help thinking that another war is inevitable. A frightful evil is rising. It sends chills down my spine when I think of what might happen. I wish I were not too old to take part in the fight."
"You've done enough in the service of your country!" cried Polly with passion. "You fought in the Battle of the Somme. I'm sure you will find some other way to contribute."
"You have faith, don't you, Polly, that we will find the hope and the strength to endure?"
"There are some things I am certain of. I know this land will endure and will triumph over its troubles."
She thought, there are two other things that I know for certain. She loved Edward and she would be a friend to Digory for as long as life would permit them.
That summer Polly and Stephen visited Digory's house again. The three of them were standing in the backyard. The stump of the apple tree had not been uprooted. It had been sawn flat close to the ground. Digory told them, "I didn't have the heart to burn the wood from the tree. I had it sawn into planks. I want to make a wardrobe out of it, for the country house."
"You can't make an entire wardrobe out of that tree," Polly observed.
"No, I suppose not."
"You could use it for panels, on the doors," Stephen said. "I saw panels on the thrones of Narnia. One was a picture of the Tree."
"Why, that would be perfect. You still have those drawings of the Tree, don't you? The wood carver could work from those. We would keep our connection, however indirect, with Alma and with Narnia."
Digory looked at Polly. "Did you ever think that we would get so sentimental?"
"Oh, you were always sentimental." And they laughed.