The walking stick

It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. The wind whistled calmly, bristling her hair as if to usher her forward towards the verandah she remembered so vividly. She edged down with warm tears in her eyes as she grasped the earth with dry and trodden sand slipping through her rosy slender fingers. It was here that she once trotted on, rode her first bike and fell leaving her with a nasty scar on her knee; the only blemish on her delicately bronzed skin.

It was also here where she had her first kiss; and no, she did not like it one bit. After all what did a young, smitten thirteen-year-old freckled boy know about it." oh Kevin, I hope you are a better kisser wherever you are". She whispered slowly as she struggled to pick herself up, feeling the immense weight of the enormous guilt holding her down. Guilt that had plagued her for over two decades, for it was here that the atrocity happened.

“Well, aren’t you going to come in?” A hoarse yet familiar voice resonated the air bringing Ariel back to reality. “It’s quite cold outside, come on in I’ll get you warm cup of tea and make you the chocolate muffins you always liked.” Continued the frail, egregiously fat woman who was now clutching her walking stick firmly as she stood on the front porch that was once filled with well tendered wave petunias.

“Coming mother,” Ariel whispered, grabbing her suitcase slowly dragging it along the narrow verandah that led to the staircase into the dimly lit farmhouse. This was once her home, her solace, her space of tranquility. Often times she would disappear into her own cocoon here. For it was here where she felt safe.

Climbing up that flight of stairs seemed like an uphill task, a tall order that no longer sounded like history for it had to happen. She had to walk into the place she promised she would never return. It made her skin crawl.

“Aren’t you going to hug me? Twenty-four years? It’s the least you can do Ariel”, urged her mother whose voice now sounded more adenoidal than usual. You could obviously her best years were behind her. With her winter white hair, blood flecked eyes and her time worn face. She had seen it all. And her unsteady stance didn’t make it any easier.; if not for her walking stick, she could have easily identified as the hunch back of notredam. However, her smile was still as beautiful as ever. It was angelic, as it edged from one cheek to the other. This is what Ariel held most dear. Were it not for the lines and freckles on her face, you’d think her fifty, but that friendly, attractive smile was inviting; even for a seventy-five years old.

“I’m sorry mum, I should have come sooner, “Ariel murmured as she edged closer to hold her.

“You could have called, I tried reaching you but you know I never liked using the telephone. “Replied mother as she held back tears which were welled from deep inside waiting to course down her cheeks. “I wish I could have traveled but I can’t go nowhere with this damn stick! “She continued as she stared deep into Ariels golden brown eyes.

Ariel began to stammer, trying to gather her thoughts into words. She had practiced this moment, thinking of every possible answer she may say just for this moment. Now that she was here, she couldn’t conjure up the courage to utter a sane word. And in that moment, struggling to

come closer, her mum’s arms squeezed in, holding Ariel tighter making her to breathe more slowly. And Ariel melted into her mom’s body, her every muscle losing its tension to that very moment. Slowly, all her worries faded away and for a split second, she knew it would be okay.

“Let’s get in, everyone’s waiting for you, “Mother whispered, urging Ariel to walk in.

A somber mood swept the sweet spring air as they limped in. The room was quiet, quiter than a pin drop. This made Ariels blood cold, as she stared blankly into the room, with multiple eyes staring edgily at her. The whispering that had previously draped the room had suddenly vanished and left with it, utter silence. It was as if the very room had conspired to keep her in the dark, not daring to mumble the reassurance she so longingly craved.

“Ariel, you haven’t aged a day. Please have a seat. You still know your way around right? “an inviting voice resonated across the room, suddenly lighting up the atmosphere.

“Hey Ariel, come have a seat..please”,the same calm voice spoke up urging her to grab a chair.

“It’s alright, I think I’ll head upstairs. I don’t feel so good “Ariel replied softly while holding her mother’s arm still assisting her walk into the house.

“Aren’t you going to see him first?” Mother asked as she glared firmly at Ariel who was deep in thought pondering her next move as if she was a pawn on a chess board. Multiple goosebumps arose as sharp chills drove down her spine as she suddenly remembered the main reason why she was here. What she was trying to avoid all these years. The scars that had left her mentally distraught, aching to get back up and go back to the youthful, happy and jovial girl she remembers. The aches that were brought about by the demon of a man that was her father.

“will you come with me? “Ariel asked her mother who was now obviously exhausted. The pain from her hip was taking a toll on her. She had not stood this long for quite some time and it was only a matter of time before her walking stick would also give up on her.

“of course, dear’, mother answered softly.

As they made their way towards the void deck, they were met with piercing eyes that stretched all through the gang way. She had grown up with most of these people. Most of which knew her struggle and the pain her father had caused them. She knew why they were here, not to pay any last respect, but to glorify the end of an era, a dictations era that not only brought terror but also seething pain that pushed her mother even closer to cashing her chips. The atrocity that happened on the verandah all those years ago had left her mother maimed from her waist down. Leaving her at the mercy of that walking stick for the rest of her life.

She remembers it like it was yesterday. A warm Saturday afternoon with calm rays of sunshine peering through window sills emanating still silhouettes of happiness. The weekly farm market had just closed and they were heading home after a long day of purchasing fresh farm produce. There she was, hopping playfully with her hand interlocked in her mums as they neared their farm house verandah. And there he was, staring menacingly at them ready to pounce.

Ariels father Jackson, was a drunk, plain and simple. Most days he would wake up to a shot of whisky and chasing others with rum. By noon he was slurring his words and soon after he would pass out in his own piss. He never left the house, why would he? Everything he wanted or rather everything he desired came easy to him. How you may ask? His temper was not only legendary but also dangerous. Dangerous enough to leave broken pieces of glass and fist prints across every wall in that house. Some of which were present to this day. When he wasn’t punching walls, he was punching his submissive wife like a Cherokee drum.

This day wasn’t any different. Like an angry bull in an arena, he was a man possessed.

“where have you been your ungrateful hag?” Jackson shouted angrily slamming his fist against the wooden frame. The bottle of whisky on his other hand wobbling dangerously.

“I asked you a question Erika. Where the hell have you been?” He bellowed again, this time smashing the bottle of whisky on the ground leaving only the sharp tip exposed. Ariel was crying at this point, confused and afraid not knowing what to do. She had witnessed this before, but this time he had gone too far. All her screams could not help her sweet mother from the kicks and blows. Not even the onlookers and neighbors lifted a finger to help. Ariel watched helplessly as her mother was clobbered and maimed. She hoped it would end, she cried and begged and with every scream, she thought she would cry her lungs out. Eventually it all stopped and everything went silent.

Jackson was finally resting in a rose gold casket.it gleamed in the early morning light that streamed through the windows.it was also deliberately crafted not to bring comfort for the afterlife for he was a man destined to suffer for the harm he had caused. You could tell that it was not built from love but grave animosity. All this could not reduce the trauma, but it was a first step. His drinking days had finally caught up with him, and he was a batterer no more.

“I will never leave you again mother”, Ariel whispered as welled up tears trickled down her cheeks; All the while staring at the corpse of the man she had once called dad seething with anger and regret.

Clasping her walking stick firmly, she walked back into the living room to start the proceeding of the wake. Erika was safe now, and that was all that mattered.