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 you197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYPva0UsmPZ
Coming to the tree197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4kMWeK6L5U
Where dead man called out197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiRawd0fxhG
For his love to flee197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡugyFlLaDgw
Strange things did happen here197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOjWU4P0UIf
No stranger would it be197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSGyu2JMA5r
If we met at midnight197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdCPl2xR2ny
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 you197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyWbxxP5hrm
Coming to the tree197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJXocvO6Tug
Where dead man called out197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXP3f5PWxdQ
For his love to flee197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs8kAke8fcN
Strange things did happen here197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV9xv6TPwtU
No stranger would it be197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUGigV9udI2
If we met at midnight197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzyV1MGMTO4
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 you197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOnkEhUnMiu
Coming to the tree197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRkqbFOcgmT
They strung up a man197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEccZYBdtiJ
They say who murdered three197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjjWKPxvrcu
Strange things did happen here197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj7BxTEcUz5
No stranger would it be197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzrpvYjXtU6
If we met at midnight197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKf5O00LVCQ
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 you197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkEp6rdHt28
Coming to the tree197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdmqIA3O8JJ
Wear a necklace of hope197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVOPuaOQRCf
Side by side with me197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhHmCVsOi2t
Strange things did happen here197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ405zQv3vuG
No stranger would it be197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7JOondFiP8
If we met at midnight197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ28XzcvPLae
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 you197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPiq0IwmTBT
Coming to the tree197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZY8g12UfNh
Where they strung up a man197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIQiidvXTfN
They say who murdered three197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1FEwsXHA41
Strange things did happen here197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPHNGA7ZZ5n
No stranger would it be197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK0qiZsexlR
If we met at midnight197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuUu8egk2Dp
In the hanging tree.”
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBJZkhyvaHo
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyOsxUsSdgI
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ20Bc4Ros8y
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZhg5fxM7XF
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjSDwqPrKZW
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡldhDoQWudy
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvMTY1oeDDH
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEPPex0D2he
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197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBSkEhSHBk0
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197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTV8AvQteEh
197Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4B3PgE1edq
