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 you268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUBkKDfX8bf
Coming to the tree268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3EQBUHT6Um
Where dead man called out268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxCYF4FHOya
For his love to flee268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3QnQnszOw6
Strange things did happen here268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtvTxVDDDQo
No stranger would it be268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6qjiWXCzH2
If we met at midnight268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVDIK7riL8D
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 you268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrhg6WP5nKd
Coming to the tree268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8KaLuqBUdT
Where dead man called out268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8X6wuNKExv
For his love to flee268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsq4U31pDKz
Strange things did happen here268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB9YNZdq856
No stranger would it be268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6T8ZTFXhjG
If we met at midnight268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlCVvYtPekE
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 you268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHOdGVK5FG9
Coming to the tree268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEqxH6mwDvL
They strung up a man268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu3Bwmu6o0r
They say who murdered three268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCYog4P4CZC
Strange things did happen here268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfBSLOSMlo8
No stranger would it be268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQDDLX15IWW
If we met at midnight268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0enG6Eurc7
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 you268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1wGhgqCU1V
Coming to the tree268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbU1pyOUYiC
Wear a necklace of hope268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡABmtGiNG1r
Side by side with me268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjme03nMPu1
Strange things did happen here268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqI6nYjrdWp
No stranger would it be268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN0Entbf1Iq
If we met at midnight268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt1Y9782FIo
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 you268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn7ChlitJK2
Coming to the tree268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPccFyugbNp
Where they strung up a man268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNLca5UtLcm
They say who murdered three268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHTDMxP2aJa
Strange things did happen here268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVUPYqiQ4I4
No stranger would it be268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrp8m2azno1
If we met at midnight268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTZZUye1hx3
In the hanging tree.”
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw8l2IWaabS
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIagrjSRBu7
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNYiD0iTRmx
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAmn7gTjRMV
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6BliBok2vb
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgfjAJnMFSq
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeepYYw7PKK
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrTyCPl7skY
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJfjUU1TzjO
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbx3at3BXDW
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxMNLntPPtQ
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwi9pQAW92Y
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ctQWB1Q5E
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡikO2bDQovl
→ Request update
and then Add to home screen.