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 you328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTv6OmLl6GW
Coming to the tree328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs0FXKKsKBs
Where dead man called out328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡScED99rl3o
For his love to flee328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX3EwXwPQpR
Strange things did happen here328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRJ2HWlp5fK
No stranger would it be328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBqSJoOegdU
If we met at midnight328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ80Yp7gcvdO
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 you328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAUVUrexZc2
Coming to the tree328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXcN8UerXaB
Where dead man called out328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2M6cIC8Q2D
For his love to flee328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLuqZYVNR4h
Strange things did happen here328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtoyk3B15ff
No stranger would it be328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZdw4kYxs5w
If we met at midnight328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtyzSDqRZVn
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 you328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw6p5Ymv21I
Coming to the tree328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiRjvsmqJDy
They strung up a man328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUz6uWiXTuV
They say who murdered three328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIuOWtm2jcM
Strange things did happen here328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Nk28MJ6yk
No stranger would it be328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3KhobSWzqI
If we met at midnight328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzEsDgZqoTQ
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 you328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZfAzz7UCIy
Coming to the tree328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwMdvB2jx7g
Wear a necklace of hope328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP0d48aXinu
Side by side with me328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIRZiFhNy5U
Strange things did happen here328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmkvElaKOfs
No stranger would it be328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6LAKn0N2bo
If we met at midnight328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ07hVGsdonq
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 you328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxxBIZfQAZm
Coming to the tree328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdMC5Dj7ifu
Where they strung up a man328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcg2O0azXYn
They say who murdered three328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdVlPBYUwgy
Strange things did happen here328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1c3QBnMDQw
No stranger would it be328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuVJVkuBWiJ
If we met at midnight328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEWIETAwCpz
In the hanging tree.”
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWuGuI4rCCL
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOFJBIWcCKp
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWmHBfLguMD
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUWaG2xhfDv
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ05ZdoEH6O6
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlW7G7OilAP
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOv2OANZelO
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡICfcFzltQ9
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpOFoVQOkbl
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsW8zimRrPl
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjL3Kl5t6ED
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2OK7I40Qih
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Pnd4JzYVx
328Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDRo9Lc1naQ
