{listen to the song first, it helps with the story ~ find in comments}
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 you628Please respect copyright.PENANAPdmTHhv5Qa
Coming to the tree628Please respect copyright.PENANAXfvw8tTk6g
Where dead man called out628Please respect copyright.PENANA5nLVp39nVx
For his love to flee628Please respect copyright.PENANAwjtY0K1op0
Strange things did happen here628Please respect copyright.PENANAoaREFGcnog
No stranger would it be628Please respect copyright.PENANAqpGZl5jC7i
If we met at midnight628Please respect copyright.PENANA4NnbK9yZvg
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 you628Please respect copyright.PENANAe7KmTBpprM
Coming to the tree628Please respect copyright.PENANAfhiOW6CWlA
Where dead man called out628Please respect copyright.PENANADlNRSmZurz
For his love to flee628Please respect copyright.PENANALTsSInk1ol
Strange things did happen here628Please respect copyright.PENANA9mUMiI2xbE
No stranger would it be628Please respect copyright.PENANA1OucsltgZ4
If we met at midnight628Please respect copyright.PENANAp1i2e40LgV
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 you628Please respect copyright.PENANAkt0iS52QIg
Coming to the tree628Please respect copyright.PENANAoQVyhPTxE8
They strung up a man628Please respect copyright.PENANAiFN2ZTtGaa
They say who murdered three628Please respect copyright.PENANAdhEemqUA6a
Strange things did happen here628Please respect copyright.PENANAZ83Zgdk2MW
No stranger would it be628Please respect copyright.PENANAv67YuQpJ1j
If we met at midnight628Please respect copyright.PENANAOOTJRqrmIQ
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 you628Please respect copyright.PENANAFfzHuvbrqZ
Coming to the tree628Please respect copyright.PENANACDQQ3wAjws
Wear a necklace of hope628Please respect copyright.PENANARzx7vE5AP5
Side by side with me628Please respect copyright.PENANAs9Kfc594f9
Strange things did happen here628Please respect copyright.PENANAlMmTSTxY8J
No stranger would it be628Please respect copyright.PENANAqo7vVgfR5e
If we met at midnight628Please respect copyright.PENANAresFvi5A4d
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 you628Please respect copyright.PENANAIN1MEkYtyW
Coming to the tree628Please respect copyright.PENANAKLYaCvMpWF
Where they strung up a man628Please respect copyright.PENANAD11aTsp7Hr
They say who murdered three628Please respect copyright.PENANAVenUAvFo1Z
Strange things did happen here628Please respect copyright.PENANA6k8gPFbDB4
No stranger would it be628Please respect copyright.PENANAEVTRgZtio2
If we met at midnight628Please respect copyright.PENANASlCJwzn9r8
In the hanging tree.”