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 you342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmBHOj2nLsM
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW1eFaTUbXz
Where dead man called out342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL3XW345ube
For his love to flee342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlZ3dEpVj99
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfavLMe1uk7
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK9XK4RePuE
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0tQOYz9L7
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 you342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTjhsfgNCkz
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZkaN38V7Iw
Where dead man called out342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK8JPrIkUlA
For his love to flee342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡalk53wEAxS
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD7lXsYDmXO
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkifUFPr3kD
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlcjiwmfNdi
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 you342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHzAwBFUctZ
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbcuOvNUus2
They strung up a man342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAlQjaF1lTk
They say who murdered three342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRAolMJ5aqt
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡECsswkkyGm
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7sRbpMEy04
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfj6nTD0yEq
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 you342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8gU9DW57C0
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuBouJsG9F6
Wear a necklace of hope342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsVgUMwJDqs
Side by side with me342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKuDuaji8Ug
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDBt9PCwiuR
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZJpyxPynC9
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4szzC9rY2Z
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 you342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG3pXKuqHAI
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4tSkm2yijE
Where they strung up a man342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzukdw18Tic
They say who murdered three342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYCiix0MM3p
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw4bkLvbP1q
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDDFkOJpP9Q
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc6N9J93KIs
In the hanging tree.”
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQTsoNpMakr
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQhqnXMBzsK
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVh1spxf8g7
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT9al40lPDG
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342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4MuDOrcV90
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342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcQs76XZFnj
