Curt. Litu's House.
"Your father won't return, Haila."
She said as she wrapped the baby in. The boy cooed. She laid him on a berth. His nose was that of his father but she had always prayed and hoped that he wouldn't take after his father's anger.
Even if they were cut from the same cloth, she would tye and dye him rather than watch him flaunt such garment.
Her right palm was on the forehead of Haila. That was her morning ritual. She would do that believing that the son would communicate with his father and bring him home.
That was her belief, and she could die for it.
"I don't know what to do anymore."
The baby cooed again.
"You said?"
The baby chuckled. He loved it but the innocence wasn't what she needed.
She believed that the boy wanted to tell him something but she simply didn't understand his language.
He wished he could. The boy was saying something to her. Everytime she spoke to him, he would coo in the same manner.
Probably he used the same word for several things. Like a particular word can mean several things in the English dictionary.
"I wish I could understand you, Haila. I wish."
She whimpered and continued,
"You father left me in this alone. Ever since his return from the forest, he hadn't been the same. He had been acting strangely until he spoke up and would return there."
She stopped talking and picked up Haila. She began to cuddle him.
"I think he's been charmed by the Manganis. I think so."
She began to sob.
"But don't worry, mother is her. I'll be there for you, Haila. I won't leave you."
She kept sobbing as the baby joined in. She began to console him.
"Don't do that, Haila. Men don't cry. These are my tears. Not yours, Haila."
She tried stopping herself but she couldn't, therefore she failed trying to stop him too.
She was moved the more that her son could feel her soul and her plight. She cried even the more.
Then there came a knock on the door.
She stopped crying. He stopped too. She sighed and put him on the berth.
She scrabbled to the door as she said,
"Who?"
There was a silence. Then she opened the door and slammed it back after seeing who was standing there.
"When will you visit the Uwa, the herbalist?"
She said through the door. She didn't want to hold the person outside in her gaze.
"I'm not sick."
The person said. The texture of the voice was thick and croaky. You could tell that twas a man.
"That you don't know doesn't mean that you're not."
She retorted. She was irritated, but she didn't want Haila to feel the wave, so she strove to tuck the irritation under the sway of her words.
"Don't know when loving you has become sick?"
The voice came again. She scoffed.
"One, I've told you never to come here again. Probably you have an ear infection, you couldn't hear. That's sickness. Plus, what other sickness is greater than wanting to lie with a woman that had been lain with?"
She stopped talking. She couldn't handle the rage anymore.
"I don't owe you an explanation. When you're done standing, leave."
She said and left the door to meet Haila.
She kept hearing his call but wouldn't heed. A sane lady who has a son to protect wouldn't either.