"Father, Can You Hear Me?"

Collonie

The night wind blew violently indicating the sign of a storm. No stars in the sky and dark gray clouds had shadowed the moon. Grace covered her daughter, Hope with the woolly blanket on the wooden chair in the room. The light burned steady inside the lantern globe, unmoved by the gush of wind that blew open the window made of wood. Grace walked to the window and forced it shut. Lightening brightened the sky, followed by the loud rumble of thunder and the rains began to drop heavily on the roofs. Hope laid still, hands outside the blanket, staring at the lantern.

"Why is the sky angry?" She asked her mother who sat beside her with a book, ready to read her a bedtime story.

"She is crying sweetheart," she responded with a smile, pulling the blanket up to her neck. She pulled the chair closer to the wooden bed and brought the light closer.

"Why is she crying? Did she get hurt?" She curiously asked again, listening to the thunder rumble louder.

"I believe she is crying tears of joy. She is watering the Earth so that I can make you breakfast tomorrow," she tickled her daughter and she giggled. Grace opened the book and began reading the story to Elizabeth.

"...once upon a time, there lived a princess. Locked up in her tower, she had nowhere to go and no friends to talk to. Her only friend was a little frog. She always hoped that Prince Charming would come to her rescue one day..."

Looking at the little girl slowly drifting to sleep made her smile, amidst the tears gathering in her eyes.

Grace closed the book and stared at her as she slept soundly, forgetting the rain that was pouring loudly on the roof. She buried her head in her arms and wept. She wanted out of the marriage with her husband but she couldn't. She tried to recall a time she was happy and the only moment that flashed through her memory was the day she gave birth to her daughter. She remembered telling Victor she was pregnant.

"If you choose to have this baby Grace, you will care for it." he'd told her and walked out. 

The rain got heavier and drops of rain started pouring into the room from the little hole in the ceiling. Grace left her daughter's side and placed a small bowl under the leaking area. She lowered the strength of the lantern light and laid beside the little girl. Then she cried, remembering how her stomach was too protruded to hide from Victor. She had nowhere to go. She had already withdrawn from the rest of her family who'd kept their distance as well.

She could hear her father's voice in her head You're making a big mistake, Gracey he had said when she came to pack her bags to leave with Victor. She had heard those words again You're making a big mistake. She closed her eyes and slept as well, hoping the memories would go away.

Her baby's birth hadn't come easy. She felt life draining from her as the nurse told her to push. She was certain she won't live to see her baby or both of them won't live to see the next day. In her pain, she pictured her family waiting outside the house to welcome her baby but she knew the lies the images brought and tears fell from the corner of her eyes as she pushed harder.

"Congratulations Grace. It's a baby girl," she said and smiled. 

"Thank God," she heaved a sigh of relief.

"Would you like to hold her?" she asked again, turning with the baby to hand her over.

Grace held her and cried. Her baby had Victor's grey eyes. "He'll love you, baby," she kissed her forehead. She was wrong. Victor was furious.

"I told you, Grace. I told you," he rambled on in anger, pacing the room as she watched in horror. She did not doubt in her heart that he wasn't the man she fell in love with. This man was cold and heartless. 

"Babies can hear, you know," Leah, their neighbor said as she listened to them arguing loudly. She walked into their room and went to Grace. "Let me hold her," she offered and Grace obliged. Victor paced the room again then walked out, banging the door almost off its hinges. Grace bowed her head as she was too tired to argue or refuse aid. Leah sang songs to the baby as Grace watched with a smile on her face. "Does she have a name?"

She nodded and lay down on the bed. "Her name's Elizabeth."

Victor walked into the room the next morning, stems of daisies in his hand, and stood by the door looking at Grace in her blue denim shirt, the shirt tucked into her brown floral skirt and sandals on her leg. Her hair was tied in a messy bun with a few strands falling on her face. He stared at her stature, the grip of the baby's hand around her finger, and the smile she had on. The baby kicked and sucked at her other thumb. Grace looked at her and saw Victor. A tear dropped from her eyes onto the blanket in the crib and the baby stared in awe.

"Forgive me," he interrupted the silence and walked towards them.

She turned and quickly wiped the corner of her eyes with the back of her palm. The baby jerked and started crying, stretching her hands for Grace to pick her up.

"May I?" he offered and she hesitated, then gave him room, her eyes following him to the baby. She sighed, as her heart picked up pace. Victor was her father but why was she uneasy letting him close to her? He looked at her and something inside him sparked for a bit. He was smiling, Grace noticed and she relaxed. He picked up the child and rocked her quietly in his arms.

"What's her name?" He turned to Grace.

"Elizabeth. Her name's Elizabeth, after your mother."

"She is beautiful," he said and kissed her forehead. Elizabeth twirled a bit and her eyes drifted to sleep, hand gripping his finger tight. He walked to the crib and laid her down.

Turning to Grace, he looked at her for a while. She had two buttons of her shirt down, from her neck exposing a little part of her cleavage. She turned her back to walk out when he held her hand and pulled her to himself.

"I'm sorry Grace, so sorry for not being here when you needed me. It's just," he paused and touched her face, shifting the strand of hair from her forehead, "I'm scared. Scared that I would be a terrible father, just like my father. I'm scared that I'm not good enough for you. I'm scared that you'll leave me."

Grace stared into his eyes and touched his face. "I won't leave you. I love you. You're nothing like your father. You'll be a better father to her, we have years of practice" She kissed him and he kissed back. When he let go, he gave her the stems of daisies.

Grace knew at once that she was with child again. She panicked and looked in the mirror of the room. Victor was away on his trading business. She looked at Elizabeth, now two years old, dragging her gown and stretching her hands for her mother to pick her up. She looked at the little girl and memories of her first pregnancy flashed before her eyes, Victor's reaction, the emptiness she felt, and fear gripped her chest so hard, she thought she couldn't breathe. Elizabeth started crying and Grace was pulled from her dark thoughts. She lifted the young girl and threw her up. She laughed, wanting more.

"You're adding a lot of weight, Liza," she smiled at the girl.

"I love you, mummy," she rambled in a child's words and held onto her neck tight in an embrace.

Grace sobbed quietly and wished she wasn't pregnant. She knew Victor's fear and how that fear brought his temper out. And she was right.

"You're doing this on purpose Grace. I see what you're doing," he yelled at her. Liza stood behind the door and cried. Leah walked up to her and heard the yelling and argument.

"Come with Aunt Leah," she stretched her hand and the little girl followed quietly.

"You think I do this on purpose? Do you think this is my fault? You won't let me breathe in peace at the mention of children but you are always eager to lay with me like it's the only thing I'm capable of doing." She sighed, 'I want children, Victor, playmates for our daughter and comfort in our old age" Grace said. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding her stomach and breathing pace by pace. Victor walked around the room, rubbing his head.

"I can't have another baby. I'm trying to be a good father to our daughter. I haven't mastered the art of fatherhood and you're about to give me another one. For Christ's sake Grace. Don't you understand?" He sat down far from her and looked out the window. For a while, Grace thought of laughing children around her just like her childhood, and her determination to keep her baby grew stronger in her heart. Victor picked up his hat and walked out. Doing what you do best, run. Coward! Grace looked through the window, watching him late that evening until he was out of sight. She turned and laid still, listening to the chirping of crickets, the frogs croaking and the wind whistling softly. 

Grace miscarried her second baby. She knew at once when the baby was not kicking anymore. Every move she made within the room was filled with pain surging through her abdomen and shooting around her body. She sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to breathe in and out. She yelled for Leah as she fell on her knees and crawled, blood trickling down her thighs, staining her dress till she got to the front door. She remembered someone running towards her and then nothing. 

"Will she be alright?" Leah asked, mopping her forehead.

"She will be fine. She lost a lot of blood and she is very weak. She needs lots of rest. Is she married?"

The vain dog will be glad to hear this! "She is but he is away on business," She answered. 

"He needs to be here to care for her. She will need all the support." The doctor packed up his equipment. "If there are any changes, you can send for me." He closed his leather bag and walked out.

He only loves her in bed, that wild animal she thought to herself. "Think of your little girl, Grace, and get better." Leah mopped her head more. Liza peeped through the slightly opened door and watched Leah soaking a towel into the bowl beside her and placing it on her mother's head. Leah caught sight of her.

"Come in, darling. Mummy needs her sleep and when she wakes up, she wants to see you." She rubbed her black silk hair that was tied plaited into two pigtails and pink ribbons decorating the tip of the hair. She sat close to her mother and held her hand, tracing the lines in her palm and trying to hold her tears so her mother wouldn't wake up.

Victor walked into the room that night, dripping of water from the rain that had started on his way home. He pulled his black coat and hung his hat. The room was dark and the window was open. The breeze swept through the room, causing goosebumps to appear on his skin. Victor rushed to the window and closed it, cursing Grace under his breath. He lit the matchstick and lit the lantern. Turning to the bed, he saw Elizabeth sleeping close to Grace and Leah, face down on the bed. Grace lay still, like she was dead, blood stain on her leg. He rushed towards her and Leah woke up startled.

"What happened Leah?" He looked at Grace, "Why is she in this state?" He touched her forehead. "She is burning up."

Elizabeth woke up and started crying. Leah pulled the young child to her.

"She lost the child. The doctor said she needs rest as she lost a lot of blood."

"Oh Grace," he looked at her body on the bed. Her cheek bone stood out visibly. Her lips were almost without color.

"Stay with her. I'll get more water and a clean towel too. Her temperature has to be stable. I'll also get more drinking water. She can't be dehydrated." Leah took the child along with her. Grace stirred on the bed and Victor held her hand tight.

"I'm sorry Grace. This is all my fault."

"This is not your fault, Victor," she held his hand. When will you stop giving excuses for him?

"You have to get better. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you," he sobbed. Tears flowed from the corner of her eyes into her brown hair. She smiled and closed her eyes again.

*************************

Lake Valle

Bernice Gretchen opened the backdoor of her parent's home and walked into the kitchen. She emptied the paper bags of carrots, corn, spinach, lemongrass, and lettuce on the kitchen table. She looked at her handwork and smiled. Her brother ran into the house, yelling at Betty, the chicken he was pursuing. Natasha beckoned him to be careful and started to peel the outer skin off the corn. She wiped the sweat off her forehead. She knew she had to start on dinner as soon as possible and time was not on her side. Some of the students in her school were having a bonfire night by the town's valley and she wanted to join the fun. The sun was setting soon and she was nowhere close to finishing dinner. The bedroom door creaked open and Bernice looked up. Her mother strolled towards her.

"Jesus, Mother," she called out, staring at her sorry state. Gloria's hair was disheveled, and her under eyes were swollen from the previous night of drinking and crying. Her lips were cracked.

"Not His name again," she walked past her daughter towards the wash pot. "What is for dinner?" she asked and washed her face.

"We are having roast chicken with corn this evening but I just got back from the market and I am trying my best to make sure dinner is ready before the sun sets." Bernice continued peeling the corn.

"What happens after sunset? You sound excited." Gloria pulled a chair from the corner of the room and sat down, her head on the table.

"Nothing is happening. It will be dark soon. I need to finish dinner and homework and help Nate as well with his. That is a lot of work so no dilly-dallying on my end."

"Where is Nathaniel?"

"By the farmhouse, chasing Betty around. I hope he catches her so it can make my work faster." 

Gloria picked a cup and when she turned it, it had To Davis, my one true love customized on it. She looked at the cup, caressing it with her fingers, and smiled. Her smile faded and she shrugged it's useless where you are my love she thought to herself and sat with it, pouring milk into the mug. She washed a stick of carrot and bit into it, avoiding her daughter's gaze. After a while, she dropped the cup.

"What?" Gloria finally asked. She was sick and tired of getting pity looks from neighbors. She was already tagged the drunk of the town after old man Harrold. Her husband had been dead for a year and still, they bugged her with love food, and flowers. Hadn't it dawned on them that she couldn't do the things Davis did for them? 

"He is dead, you know," Bernice said nonchalantly, pouring a cup of milk for herself. She had tried to forget her father's death and every time she thought she was succeeding, a nosy neighbor would come with food and memories of what her father had done for them. 

"Don't talk about your father like that, Bernice Davis Gretchen. What has come over you?"

Bernice raised her head and looked back at the corn she was washing. She was holding her pain inside because of her brother, not that her mother would ever understand.

"Nate misses you. He wakes up at night, worrying about you and you don't make it easy for him. You are the grown up, mother but after father passed, you struggled Nate's position as the child. You're sitting here with me but it feels like you died when he did. You are just in your zone. I know it's hard on you but it's hard on us too. We've lost one parent. Don't make us lose another," she stopped herself when she saw the shock on her mother's face. She had gone too far again, saying her mind. She apologized for her outburst and reached out and touched her mother's palm.

Gloria sniffed and removed her hands from the table, trying to avoid the tears that were now rolling down her cheeks. She missed human companionship and she missed her children. She had lost the respect of the people from the way she lived and deep inside her, she wished she had cared about it then. How was she supposed to pick up the pieces of her former life? She was far withdrawn and dead inside to the neighbors and the community to retrace her steps. She had resigned from being the choir leader, a mother, a gardener and a christian.

"I miss him so much and it hurts just thinking about him. He–he should be here," she swallowed hard and for the first time since her father's funeral, Bernice watched her mother breakdown in her presence. Seeing her mother breakdown hurt her so deeply. She cleaned her eyes and went to her mother and hugged her. 

"How about we do something together this weekend?"

"What do you suggest? I'm pretty useless now," she smiled and sniffed.

"Let's tend to the garden. I know you used to be happy doing it. It could do you a lot of good. We need a bit of color. This house looks like a cemetery." She nodded and looked out the window where the weeds were taking over her garden and her clematis was overgrown and stretching outside the wooden fence.

Bernice went to her room and pulled out her diary from under her clothes in her underwear drawer. She looked at the picture of her, hand torn out because it was placed on her father's shoulders when she was ten as he carried her. She had torn him out of the picture. She traced her finger down the torn side and opened the diary. Each page she turned from when she was eleven hurt her deeply. She knew one thing her mother and everyone didn't _ her father wasn't the saint they had painted him to be. He was a monster and she was glad God did the job she had planned to do to him. She only thought it; she didn't do it as a man thinketh in his heart so is he the words of her Sunday school teacher rang in her head. She used her pillow to cover her face as she drowned out her pain in tears. Good riddance she told herself as she cried harder but the pain was still there even when he wasn't. She wondered how he had so much power over her even in death.

Gloria lay on her bed in the opposite room and stared at the ceiling. Then she turned towards the side of the bed where her husband used to lay. She smelled the bedsheet and the tears dropped. His smell was gone. She had chased it away from constant drinking and the smell of cigarettes. What would Davis say if he saw her sorry state she thought to herself. He can shove his judgment down his empty ghost throat, she concluded and tried getting him out of her mind. She needed to sleep. And she did. She dreamt of her husband. 

Collonie

The church bell rang loud on Sunday morning, one chime at a time. The first mass by 6:00 am always brought back memories of Grace's childhood when she would be forced by her mother to wake up early and prepare. Now, that was years ago. She hadn't been inside the church since she married Victor. He was not a big fan he had said. He told her he hated Sundays. He said people did wrong on weekdays, drank away their lives, and ended up in church to pray on Sunday. He didn't want to be part of hypocrisy. She was the opposite, although she never brought up the church subject again. She needed the fellowship, a connection to people. This Sunday, she tried to convince him again to go to mass because their daughter had caught a fever in the night and she had been up mumbling words she convinced herself were prayers for her child's health. She remembered her mother praying when she was sick while her father placed his hand on her shoulder and mouthed Amen. She dressed Elizabeth in a deep blue gown with flowers drawn at the bottom, her hair was tied up in a ponytail and weaved to the bottom. She took the shawl, wrapped it around her, and walked out the door. Victor stopped her.

"Where are you taking her?" He asked, his brows raised in a frown. He saw the hymnal in her hands and laughed sarcastically. "She needs a doctor, Grace."

"We can't afford one but we can afford God, free of charge." She turned her child to her other hand.

"God!" He smirked. "Where was God when we lost our child? Where was God when I almost lost you? Where was God when the man I called father beat my mother to death with a stool cause he couldn't pull me from under her? He never loved her or me and he killed her. He beat her up and left her helpless. Where was God when-?" He took a deep breath.

"I-," she sounded defeated. His question made her wonder where God was when her mama died and her papa lost all purpose of living and she thought she would lose him too. When her older sister, Maria died, she questioned God's existence again. She often wondered how harsh He could be for taking the people she loved the most in the world and letting the bad ones roam free. She kissed her child's forehead and looked back at Victor, tears welling in her eyes.

"Please Grace," he walked towards her, "don't be fooled. Stay. I'll go get the doctor."