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 you368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Pw0WQ8Wci
Coming to the tree368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡszVqsMycO6
Where dead man called out368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpOZZhRux62
For his love to flee368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtQZYjXk02r
Strange things did happen here368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzh9tFmTdk2
No stranger would it be368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqHX6Ih1uV9
If we met at midnight368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0BmcOmo3g7
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 you368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCviEgABzwf
Coming to the tree368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiSAz8ub32g
Where dead man called out368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡywS1nIEZn9
For his love to flee368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ02zNv5z3R
Strange things did happen here368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo2efMuBmTk
No stranger would it be368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjCDHxF3JT9
If we met at midnight368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2cuVkqLA0Z
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 you368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPk8yVVPa9S
Coming to the tree368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDhAHRhxUcN
They strung up a man368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp2LvR9rjTq
They say who murdered three368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4eufObNBeH
Strange things did happen here368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn94fvNUI71
No stranger would it be368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhhTEMCufaB
If we met at midnight368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmBDSioI9wD
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 you368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZTNdQuE9dc
Coming to the tree368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZkDFpqnSpe
Wear a necklace of hope368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3E2QMNuwrA
Side by side with me368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx3j8CRtmVX
Strange things did happen here368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl7n4ycsoZS
No stranger would it be368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfGc335bSuh
If we met at midnight368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡruhRGUJv5I
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 you368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq57OKQ99ba
Coming to the tree368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7DpP08QiC7
Where they strung up a man368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7tbhznlo0v
They say who murdered three368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9vlF4Ph5lS
Strange things did happen here368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRZWMJHmOUF
No stranger would it be368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyIaAE3NYtc
If we met at midnight368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfVotUXEm0o
In the hanging tree.”
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBNKIcWhW0E
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr7pm7yz071
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEslb3XvZBp
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVam4vo2rDq
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCW039g8n2i
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYUduuIvyvp
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zAsR23vPP
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡExlgthf2rU
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ79NgTx2uPb
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡChkNngubEc
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0mg2dOCOU
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4Y6F1IetS5
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEhFBMHoeHQ
368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmXJqFFMd6o
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