Mama never talked about father. She said the town-folk would never understand. She said shadows flickered in their souls.
But sometimes when the moon was full she would take us with her, holding a candle above the high summer grass and take us to a tree. She would settle me and my sister in blankets against the tree and press her fingers against the running lines of its’ bark.
There she would tell us stories of our father. There she talked to us of how our father had strong shoulders and eyes the colour of bronze. He was a man who would read books in the highest tree branches and played tricks on the wood cutters. How he would tell her jokes, play hide and seek in the meadow and pull his weight in the local mines. She never said he was a good or a bad man, simply a man who lived and loved her.
When we asked her where he went, she would say he could not stay with us. Then, she would smoothly move on to say how he would hold us in his arms as babes and whisper prayers in our ears.
Away from the tree our father did not exist. But near the tree our father was as alive and as real as the blanket we clutched against the cold. Before we left the tree, mama would sing a song, her sweet voice echoing through the trees.
Are you, are you274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXb2yybzwn1
Coming to the tree274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyjSTJiyHWe
Where dead man called out274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSFLYEnin99
For his love to flee274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtix0HX8d8F
Strange things did happen here274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdstNRXPN4Q
No stranger would it be274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOGIzTf5rag
If we met at midnight274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYK1EJ0IamS
In the hanging tree
I never thought more of it than a pretty song, a tradition. Years passed. We worked hard. I never saw a relative, I was told they had died of a sickness before we were born. My mother talked less and less about our father. The full moon visits stopped. When I had time, I would clamber up the tree and sit in its branches, imagining myself like my father.
On my sixteenth birthday my mama took me to see the tree, her candle flickering in the dark once again. As she walked, she sang;
“Are you, are you274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡef4hIjJ2yU
Coming to the tree274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3TPolvwVwe
Where dead man called out274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ9fGTVbLi5
For his love to flee274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEN4IHvGLe5
Strange things did happen here274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcNoESKR5h2
No stranger would it be274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFMLNfMX4cL
If we met at midnight274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD6qA9OM5eQ
In the hanging tree”
There in the bosom of the tree mama eyed me quietly until she lifted her head and sang more words, words I had never heard before.
“Are you, are you274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAmM6b8Xjwq
Coming to the tree274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡclKHUJ38jh
They strung up a man274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsUFbMWsSEs
They say who murdered three274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEoi81KxwXd
Strange things did happen here274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiv8r1L4t8G
No stranger would it be274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoV0tkG8HG1
If we met at midnight274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZgAlRWhk2a
In the hanging tree.”
There she explained how father died, strung up for murdering three men. There she admitted the three men had been her uncle and his two sons. Her family had died when she was little, leaving her with relatives. It was not a happy home. She was belittled, played with, beaten. My father had gone to see her and found a scene he had not bargained for. She had not bargained on his anger, as fierce and deadly as a housefire. My father was found guilty and hanged. He had not argued or pleaded or justified. He had kissed her and left for the hanging tree.
I looked up at the tree, our tree, my tree. At my father’s legacy.
“Mama,” I had said at last, “what does the song mean?”
She did not answer my question, only silent tears. She told me she had tried to stop them, she had tried to explain. But no one listened. He only asked for two things from her. He had asked her not to come to the hanging tree when they took him away, but to visit him after he was gone.
And so, she had.
We returned home and never talked of it.
My sister was married, then I was. To a woman who sang our children to sleep and laughed at my jokes. She followed me when I climbed trees, and produced me a son I never knew I would love so dearly.
One night as I was feeding our chickens I heard my mother’s voice ring through the village, her candle flame dancing far away in the breeze.
“Are you, are you274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNiIRloQ5yz
Coming to the tree274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmQpzx5aLOk
Wear a necklace of hope274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ83hkaDHAQD
Side by side with me274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuX2as6k7zM
Strange things did happen here274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWypYBs5leE
No stranger would it be274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeKuvUwgruK
If we met at midnight274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHqyd7RxWfv
In the hanging tree.”
Before I knew I was moving I was sprinting for the tree, scattering chickenfeed and ruffled chickens as I went. No mama. No mama.
When I made it to the tree the wind whistled and whispered the song to me, as eerie as the flickering candle lying on its’ side. The silence screamed in my ears, leaving nothing but the gentle creak of a hangman’s noose. There my mama danced, her arms limp and still. Her face was peaceful, as though she had awaited this for many a year.
And still the wind murmured the song, beckoning me to sing along.
“Are you, are you274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHZRmuqWBXZ
Coming to the tree274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnR7cEfpecu
Where they strung up a man274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpssi6rorxL
They say who murdered three274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡehb8MerxUG
Strange things did happen here274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK14z3Jvzzw
No stranger would it be274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5Dkk1KGIfw
If we met at midnight274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4WBGR0kb1o
In the hanging tree.”
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmcaEd1x9Ey
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8AH8XWAxuF
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJyYo7xERNJ
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzKfKyo3mq6
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2fAyS4iV8b
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfjbpTzQMGi
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmpx2M6CCFB
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdx5VgSY9vJ
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLACeqw6PEP
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsQbdejtdEt
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPgTLIVTUhN
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJj4XnQONFl
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoX22k7BVmF
274Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcdGGnSR2oi
