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 you282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3qcyKS3ZMb
Coming to the tree282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdxHz57fu2Z
Where dead man called out282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHAGCo3mxQJ
For his love to flee282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ73gFFTuvdR
Strange things did happen here282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC3Cm32dAR6
No stranger would it be282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuAexFCy8Mh
If we met at midnight282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6MhUkU875L
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 you282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsDdNpAyfMD
Coming to the tree282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYo2ehm8GQB
Where dead man called out282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiuz8rsPNqd
For his love to flee282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXwUSH8DlBJ
Strange things did happen here282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡygQOeKDTdi
No stranger would it be282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdPw7IrppP8
If we met at midnight282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdB0EbaQl4I
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 you282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAN7jk3UOSO
Coming to the tree282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡknnKASsBSo
They strung up a man282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpf5ESuWNRD
They say who murdered three282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJgOvJnhY4e
Strange things did happen here282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmHuhNKY7pq
No stranger would it be282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaNmgH1V36W
If we met at midnight282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4VrnaVMAIE
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 you282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI1xApLKvve
Coming to the tree282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaAXtEWqp2l
Wear a necklace of hope282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9MJkLYMok0
Side by side with me282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb65Vhdnhaw
Strange things did happen here282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfMqkeEkO7j
No stranger would it be282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSQEdP5hgV3
If we met at midnight282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkRJy2ElF7D
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 you282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcHf9qkQ96G
Coming to the tree282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQA62qThwsP
Where they strung up a man282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP4IuPg9FJ7
They say who murdered three282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIKuO2yIUp1
Strange things did happen here282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDZhSBBaLoU
No stranger would it be282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaBHsf96xva
If we met at midnight282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHLzP5tYWaR
In the hanging tree.”
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmjr5lW0JZr
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd1Wuc3QXC0
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKT9K6ecboD
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBSNoOjaQdJ
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8YcYJqiZor
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzRFAeLLU8x
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBg0pss8xhm
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfQg3LiLAdB
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZeb0OTNAg6
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡja1YC6i93J
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282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0wocazM2uI
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8OmPgBF493
282Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoix4trFLKr
