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 you352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1cDC16jNEB
Coming to the tree352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYQgXgkJ4Hf
Where dead man called out352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAp65X4H1Ej
For his love to flee352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDGRKLtA68G
Strange things did happen here352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWVG1Pz2bxN
No stranger would it be352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKPvPyEgFP9
If we met at midnight352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcTBDcto1sP
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 you352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLpYpYen8vy
Coming to the tree352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcPTDzGcYsB
Where dead man called out352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyzp0fHUNzd
For his love to flee352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsRD4P6ocZn
Strange things did happen here352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXrk227t1zJ
No stranger would it be352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU11JkebTyL
If we met at midnight352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLDsVWKSHDq
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 you352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY3pUm3fma7
Coming to the tree352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUKQW3rSzjI
They strung up a man352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8z0mHgy2nB
They say who murdered three352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQPd1Ct7LoF
Strange things did happen here352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwolmRiy3Le
No stranger would it be352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4NeL9y1eSb
If we met at midnight352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGPIwg5i6zg
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 you352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Tu0t833o5
Coming to the tree352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhKMVCaACkh
Wear a necklace of hope352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5lkPm8IeRL
Side by side with me352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzdZTqBm7wy
Strange things did happen here352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNUbaP0f1l7
No stranger would it be352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAvMlPFbtyf
If we met at midnight352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKOL1k9CyeG
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 you352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQToZ2Dc4uv
Coming to the tree352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDvYz320q77
Where they strung up a man352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB5qTrXnXXf
They say who murdered three352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAAxv7xnDIq
Strange things did happen here352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGmWVxtnAoU
No stranger would it be352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH7ItOCk12B
If we met at midnight352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnQKZNlIbWZ
In the hanging tree.”
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB73rZc41m9
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzpOPyDhbrg
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0JMSuIx8A9
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDgCrQKqkPu
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFatmPaGyuT
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdWzXSUy05A
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAfjcrT6KBj
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbTrPFrMLS4
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFE6JQNUXP2
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIIHKcZh1LB
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtZMfEtOSJp
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLsHbNXL3vQ
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp3Lz9NSNoQ
352Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRy55SHJBjg
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