The door slowly swung open and the soldiers stood at attention, saluting their superior officer, the Major General as she entered the room. A woman of pride and prestige, in the uniform of one of the highest ranks in the military, a woman yielding infinite power. The family stared at her with absolute shock and awe, their own little girl. How do they now pay for the injustices against her?No one said a word, the mother crying quietly, uncontrollably as the Major General stared at them, her eyes emitting cold fury. She had lived for this day, to see them suffer, cry and beg for forgiveness a she had cried and cried when she was thrusted into strange hands that stormy night as the ship sailed away to an unknown place.
She sat down and spoke in a deep South American accent. Her voice low but with a sharp edge as the storm outside continued to rage.
“Betrayal, lies, scorn and rejection, stories of your lives. You continued to live and make your name in society because there was nothing and no one that would bring shame to the family, she was gone.”
She looked at the distressed mother: “I don’t know where the divine help came from because many bad things could have happened to that child but the traders, merciless business men, felt pity for her and sold her to a wealthy childless couple, kind people who gave her a very good life.”
“God answered my prayers,” the mother sobbed, “I begged him every day to take care of you.”
General Morales looked at the mother, unmoved by that heart wrenching display of emotion and turned her attention to the father.
“She was dead to you, wasn’t she? You couldn’t even say she was your child, such scorn and hate for your own. What did she do so wrong? She was only six, innocent to the world.”
He couldn’t answer. The enormity of the wrongs, by his hands against his own child cutting into him like a sharp sword.
“I can kill you now,” she said, the anger in her darker than the stormy night. “But that’s too easy for a heartless father like you.”
She sat back in the chair, taking her time, having this weight on her mind for 22 years. Stones would bleed to dissipate that weight after she was done here tonight.
“A brother protects his sister, doesn’t he?” she asked of the brother. “That’s the culture, a significance of the sacred thread she ties on his wrist. She called for you. She screamed for you but you never came. But when you saw what had happened to her, you cursed her, hit her and lied so shame was cast on her. What happened to a brother’s love?”
The brother broke down crying. “I’m so sorry, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, please forgive me.”
A small, cynical smile played at the corner of her mouth, “You as the son was like a trophy engraved with gold in the family, celebrating birthdays, getting married and having children, never spearing a thought for your little sister and now you want forgiveness.” He bent his head, too ashamed of himself to look at her. The sword of guilt cut in even deeper in his flesh, drawing droplets of blood.
“Ahana!”
She turned as the mother called her name, a name she hadn’t heard for so many years, the name of the little girl the mother loved so dearly.
“You loved me so much. Why did you let him take me away that night?” she asked.
The cold fury-slowly ebbing from her eyes. “I cried for you, until I couldn’t cry anymore.”
The mother’s lips quivered. “I tried but I lost because I couldn’t win against him with his brutal fist and threats. All I could do was pray for you.”
Her voice broke as she looked at her daughter. “I prayed every day for 22 years and in my mind, I walked with you every step so no harm could come to you.”
The General said nothing for a long while, knowing what her mother said was true because throughout the years she had felt there was something divine in her life. She had to know who or where it came from and who else but her own mother, a simple farming woman.
She stood up, her face impassive, seemingly unmoved by the mother’s words and tears, but underneath the soldier’s uniform was a woman whose heart beat with love and compassion, who could cry and laugh. She nodded to a soldier to untie the mother’s hands.
“Take her to the guest house and have her refreshed and relaxed, I will talk to her later.”
She turned to the father and brother, the cold fury back in her eyes. “It’s too late for apologies, I just wanted to make sure you suffer for what you did to me and I don’t want to see you ever again.”
She directed an order to her soldiers, “Take them back to their home, I’m done here.”
They will lead each day of their lives with guilt, regrets and shame-a slow death. Her revenge, a mission accomplished.
She left the army base for the guest house on a beautiful resort where her mother awaited her. So much time lost, dreams and hopes scattered in the wind but it could be gathered again like the flowers and fruits she used to gather in her little basket.
General Gabriella Morales changed from her uniform to a floral dress, letting her hair down, a soft look in her eyes, a little smile on her lips, the woman she was, just Gabriella. As she entered the room, her mother rose from the sofa, her face lighting up with a smile, odd at this complete transformation.
“You’re as beautiful as I always imagined you would be.”
For the first time that night, she saw her daughter smile-a smile that drew tears to her eyes, happy tears. “Whoever you are now, you’ll still be my sweet little Ahana.”
“I wouldn’t want anything else,” Gabriella said, embracing her mother.
It is such a long time to be held by those loving arms again, to hear that affectionate voice. They sat together talking over cups of coffee as the sun rose-sleep a far distant from their minds.
“There’s only one regret,” the mother said.
“What?”
“I can’t have the special wedding celebration I wanted for you.”
Gabriella smiled, “Maybe you can.”
She said something in Spanish to the waiter serving breakfast and a few moments later, a most handsome man entered the room. He was dressed casually, the soldier who had been asking the questions in the interrogation room. Gabriella rose and he embraced her, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
“Mom, this is my fiancé, Javier.”
The mother smiled happily. “Dear Lord, thank you. It gets better.”
Javier was not a solider though he had served in the military. He was a director in his family’s oil company, just accompanying her on this trip to help her find closure that had been like a great burden on her mind. Now she was free like a beautiful butterfly.
“Now I can have my celebrations,” her mother said as they ate breakfast together.
“What celebrations?” Javier asked.
“You’ll have to ask her.” Gabriella said with an innocent smile.
At the end of the day, as dusk settled in, she sent her mother back home for she would be leaving early in the morning.
“This is not goodbye,” she said as she hugged her. “Don’t cry, I will stay in touch with you and soon you will come to stay with me for however long you want.”
“Remember we have to discuss the wedding celebrations.” Javier said, making mother and daughter smile through their tears.
A special celebration as hopes and dreams for a Blood Child, scattered in the wind, gathering to fill the little basket.
By Maureen Rampertab