“Mama, why is uncle upset whenever I ask about Dada?”
“He and your father were friends once, but not for years.”
“What happened?”
His mother showed him her enigmatic smile. “Your Dada was stronger than him, but he yielded when they fought.”
That made no sense for the small child. “Why?”
His mother made a face, as if thinking over something amusing “because, above all, your Dada didn’t want to hurt his friend.”
“But he hurt him still.”
“Yes.”
“Is that why grandfather is mad at him?” at her raised eyebrow, the kid blushed. “I heard my cousins talking about that. That grandfather is still mad at him.”
“It is so.”
There was a moment of silence. The boy’s intention to ask her something was obvious, but his hesitation was apparent. After a while, he sighed and finally said: “Mama, when will I finally meet Dada?”
Her smile turned upside down while caressing his head. Instead of answering, she looked at the northern sky, a tear staining her beautiful face.