THE drive from the airport, miles upon miles into the countryside past lush, green landscapes, expansive rice fields and coconut walks, was a scenic experience pleasing to the young man returning from overseas. As he neared his old home, his heart raced with feelings of uncertainty for it had been such a long time. David got out as the car stopped at a back street in the settlement and looked at the modest, unpainted house, standing amongst the fruit trees and flowering plants, somewhat lonely. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a short moment and he said quietly to himself, “Welcome home, David”

It had been 20 years since he had left, as an eight-year-old with his mother, younger brother and sister, and today he was returning for the first time.

The wooden gate was unlocked and he walked in and put down his bags; no one was there, but the house and yard were unbelievingly neat and well kept. He looked around for some little thing that could refresh his memory for he hadn’t much, to begin with, then he saw his name, carved into the trunk of the mango tree and he smiled. “Yeah, now that’s something.”
“I had lifted you on my shoulders that day so you could reach,” a deep course voice said behind him.
David turned around, almost startled and looked at the bearded man standing there.
He wasn’t sure who it was and asked a little hesitantly,
“You are…?”
The man gave a little chuckle and shook his head,
“Can’t blame you for not recognising your old man.”
A strange feeling touching his heart, seeing now the man who had been missing from his life for 20 years, who never called or wrote, now a broken old man – his father.
“Hey—” David said, not sure what else to say.

The old man looked at the tall, well-built, young man with his mother’s good looks for a long moment, in serious thought, then silently, he picked up one of his bags and said, “Let me show you to your room.”
David followed him up the freshly scrubbed stairs and looked around the small house, astounded at the tidiness and well-polished furnishings, arranged neatly in place.

“Impressive,” he said. “You manage all this on your own?”
“Yeah,” his father mumbled, “Make yourself comfortable while I find something for dinner.”
David threw himself down on the bed, letting the feeling of homecoming sink into him and he drifted off to sleep. It was close to dusk when he opened his eyes, the delicious aroma of something cooking, wafting in the air. He went downstairs and saw his father by the stove.

“You can cook?” he asked.
“Yeah, had to learn or starve,” the old man said, taking a swig from the quarter bottle Eldorado white rum on the small table.
“And still with that too?”
“Yeah” was the coarse, indifferent answer.

David took a long, refreshing bath with rainwater that was stored in barrels and then ate a good dinner, spicy fish curry with green mangoes, tomato and loud pepper. The two men, old and young sat in silence after dinner, neither not knowing what to say to each other.

David watched his father’s drawn face from the shadows of the lamps’ flickering flames as the old man pulled deeply at the cigarette and took swigs from the rum bottle.
His father finally broke the deep silence and asked in a low tone,
“Why are you here? I don’t have much for you to inherit”
David smiled wryly, “I’m an aviation engineer and I have my own house”
“Good…then you’re here to see if I’m dying, to give me a decent burial?”
“No, I just wanted to see you”
“Why?”

David didn’t answer, not knowing how to explain to the man sitting in front of him that though he, the son, knew how badly the father had treated his mother and children; the father who had never called to say sorry, to change his life around so they could come back. He who left his wife alone to struggle to make life good for his children whose hands he was never there to hold. And even though the stepfather who came into their lives was everything the father wasn’t, the son still felt that something was missing in his life, a part of him he had to find so he could understand why this all happened.

His father emptied the bottle and got up a bit unsteadily.
“I’ll see you in the morning”
David watched him go, feeling pity for the man who seemed so lonely, who seemed not to have anything. He sat there in the semi-darkness until the oil in the lamp burnt low in this place that was once home but where there had been too much pain and suffering.

The next few days were spent in the small farm, the fish pond at the back of the yard, meeting with the neighbours and his father’s drinking buddies who stopped by often.

He also got bitten by some angry red ants and scratched by sharp thorns, an unforgettable experience while bonding with his father in their country home. On the morning of Father’s Day, David woke up early feeling in his heart that it would be a special day. It was somewhat quiet and as he opened the door to go downstairs, he stopped and stared stunned at his father – neat haircut, clean-shaven face and nicely dressed – a new man.
“Whoa…that’s a big change” David laughed.

After a hearty breakfast, they sat outside on a tree stump table in the shade of the mango tree, and after a while, his father said pensively, “All my friends, lost their families; now we’re just a bunch of old men, with nothing much to look forward to”
“How did this happen?” David asked

His father did not answer for a long moment, then he sighed and said, “When I married your mother, I was reluctant to give up my greater love of drinks and friends for family life. I thought I could have had both but I was so wrong. I knew I hurt her a lot with my selfishness and uncaring attitude; I wanted everything from her but was unwilling to give of myself. Ten years after she took the three of you and left, I woke up one morning, looking around for my family but I found an empty house and vacant chairs, I realized then how late I was.”

He paused and lit a cigarette with trembling hands, inhaling deeply, then he asked his son, “How is your mother?”
“Great. She doesn’t work anymore, I’m taking care of her now”
“She did a great job all on her own. I’ve been living for the day when I could see all of you, just for once, to say how sorry I am for pushing my family away. I made the wrong choice.”
His voice broke a little and he took a long drink to regain his composure.

He looked at David and said, “Son, I need you to understand, it will not make you less of a man to love, to care and to embrace your responsibilities to home and family, it makes you a bigger man to do so.”
David smiled, happy that his father understood his wrongs and had corrected his ways even though he was now alone. Handing him a nicely wrapped gift, he said, Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”
His father opened the gift slowly and for a long moment, he stared at the beautifully framed picture in his hand of the family he had let go.

That was when the tears came and he unashamedly cried, letting out all the years of regret, pain and loneliness.
David got up, embracing him and said “It’s okay, Dad, I’ve come home to you.”
It wasn’t too late for the father, there was still time, for there was still a place for him in his children’s hearts.