|
into the night: part 3
Mother was a seamstress. She said she learned the craft herself while working as a house-help at a mayor's household. But no, I said, maybe it was only an extension to or, professionalization of sort of her childhood hobby which was handbag and mat weaving.
On days when the sun was up and yellow wrens twittered on top of our sagging eaves, I would see her tinkering on some man's avocation, say metallurgy, which was a little dangerous because she would be setting fire here and there whilst we kids were not supposed to come close to her within a ten-meter radius, warding us off with that ubiquitous whipping twig.
And on such days, too, I was the object of the world'ss most stinging lashes, some scars are so stubborn a million baths in the river or, the sea could not bring them to a complete healing or, worse, forgetting because, along with them are memorable snippets vividly etched on my silent, sacred hall of precious memories.
"Come, Levis, let's go take a short dip before we go home. A little cooling-down wouldn't be bad, eh? What do you think?" I was trying to cajole him into swimming without mother's permission.
"I will not be getting another one of her lashings anymore,Riv...don't tag me along..."
"Yes, you will come with me. Besides, who will look after you if you go ahead...you know, the bamboo grove is a little darker today...you reckon, little brother?"
"Err...I will not..."
"Yes, you will!...Come now, let's just go swim without dipping our heads into the water...that way we won't be giving mother a start...Brilliant idea, eh?"
|
