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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ073zmHse5I
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN9tG43pDBi
Where dead man called out342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdUMzKDgSc0
For his love to flee342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ95ubJRs6OU
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡluqGff5OHf
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEH57L9XGlx
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3DIZmSIRkf
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPtWzPvI1Zq
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiMiprreB4K
Where dead man called out342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4QhhwyoFKa
For his love to flee342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV6IB20S4gd
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIjr2EcQUuC
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA2IBorJF0r
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjVxfBkuKI2
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY6Jqtijpke
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj8zjfxHFmP
They strung up a man342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHqZAEvy6KD
They say who murdered three342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNonxuYjepC
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMnFrYhZCFJ
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJVmY1MtY4O
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpZuxoODcfh
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjnIdFj7aI9
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEQ8zBQKs8h
Wear a necklace of hope342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUU9JWyNIW7
Side by side with me342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5rkLSPtr2I
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt4C1TKiFy8
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnDFzlNlEyw
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgKT0nQpLXn
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.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvLIxAVzsbg
Coming to the tree342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYr5zBeTTmr
Where they strung up a man342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhlS6CrUo6v
They say who murdered three342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3GLloxOlLv
Strange things did happen here342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2uOWVg3cwv
No stranger would it be342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvh3dopNuGm
If we met at midnight342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4qvkZ6Grup
In the hanging tree.”
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx5QykMNtcg
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡylFSYYkxXf
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMutQLqsYla
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342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7XjGJPl5fF
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTanQh2BE7k
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342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2uTaDR7S0b
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX5jlggMdkB
