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 you211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyyrrtHbXuV
Coming to the tree211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwxwyjLJuQW
Where dead man called out211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvcjE7TQzu4
For his love to flee211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUZ9yMg1VsW
Strange things did happen here211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFOR0bRGY9v
No stranger would it be211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuA8Yc1nlUm
If we met at midnight211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSYDAZvBjHk
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 you211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPrKlOKquHa
Coming to the tree211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEm6V9Fvjdm
Where dead man called out211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEwMOci0lsm
For his love to flee211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn8bYevoNrI
Strange things did happen here211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Hpl3e6ki9
No stranger would it be211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3a94IqPvOz
If we met at midnight211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcz57uT0VT4
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 you211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWYtZDGGXIp
Coming to the tree211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5wKRLY2EoW
They strung up a man211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3PxbGRbpEr
They say who murdered three211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrE5pkAf4Iw
Strange things did happen here211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDwdOXC84mE
No stranger would it be211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuPqBKz07Ej
If we met at midnight211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDor9LVot1H
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 you211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSwMmyOILe6
Coming to the tree211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡol1pf2D5OI
Wear a necklace of hope211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3JJPu8od1T
Side by side with me211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMTlMQkXq2k
Strange things did happen here211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT9hbfEtGuZ
No stranger would it be211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMp60YgUY2r
If we met at midnight211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡExhB7MZMLK
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 you211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNtFiCO1hSz
Coming to the tree211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3oBaAzFL99
Where they strung up a man211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgXLzwwzAF0
They say who murdered three211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEbeFUhat3l
Strange things did happen here211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtmZXgJYuWr
No stranger would it be211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQWvKpTJ2kf
If we met at midnight211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk0ssKicwnJ
In the hanging tree.”
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFJKjsrrOTE
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYAFEMi2Wa9
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHxszyWd8CK
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwsTns5GMTD
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ34BqD3Xf4U
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhZX4mXRZO3
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrtt55c2Ryd
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCMyFdGJ9SO
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTG0ZJey4nt
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡor9NR6H1LC
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0tlYNRUIEf
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA8RPcvZYoL
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPIgJeuWjEq
211Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHzgS0nzjBB
