Alike
Solo
Words: 590
Solo
Words: 590
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Every morning he wakes up and has to check that Padma is still there. It’s no more than a brief glance, a sharp tug of the hanging curtain that divides her quarters from his own in the now-too-big nest is all it takes, and he is satisfied. For a time, at least. As they work, every glance at her reassures him that she’s still there. Every time she comes home from the market, from the garden, or even from visiting one of the older villagers’ homes on a checkup, he draws in a silent breath.
He wasn’t always like this. Once, he remembers watching as the two tumbled about, knees grass-stained, palms scraped from falling too hard in the brush. He remembers being able to focus on his work, only to scoff at the sorry state of his girls as they clamber back up the ladder into the nest. Padma, attempting to be contained, although it was obvious she’d been tugged into one of Ujana’s crazy plans. Ujana, beaming brightly, not the least bit guilty at the leaves that clung to her hair.
Padma doesn’t take such chances anymore. She hasn’t in years. And yet, every time she leaves his line of sight he panics. He feels the hitch in his chest, the uncomfortable quickening of his pulse, and he only remembers to breathe when she returns, and it takes everything in him not to sweep her into his arms and hug her until she never leaves his sight again.
Sometimes, he does. But most times he refrains and can only sit, soaking in the realization that he’s more like his mother than he could ever have predicted. What would he do, if Padma came to his side one day and declared… ‘Father, I want to fight! I want to hunt, to go out into the world, I want to…’
No! Never! The very thought of her leaving breaks his heart, and at night, when he grows certain that time is coming, he can’t keep back the tears. He is a healer, all he had ever wanted, but until he had daughters he never knew he’d wanted a family so badly. And he realizes, in the dead of night, that his fears are pushing her away… can see the strain in her face when he panics, can see the same shadowed resignation he once wore when his own mother clung to him, dragged him back inside, the same longing as she gazes out the windows towards a future she thinks will never happen.
It’s only a matter of time before he’s alone again. Before she leaves too, like everyone else. Like Ujana, even Mella. And yet, as a father, shouldn’t he be guiding her to that time?
Too soon. It’s too soon, and every night as he drifts off, he knows it’s another day closer to that day. The day his life loses its color again. And it’s painfully unfair, the realization that he should be strong and supportive, should smile and let her go with a wave. What difference would it have made if he had a place to come home to, back then? The promise of a smile and warm arms, a home to return to?
In the dead of night, he remembers her. Remembers Ujana. He remembers how they always were at odds, only to grow closer when she moved and finally admitted a grudging respect for his craft. The stilted, messy letters she’d sent. Until they stopped.
When she leaves, what if Padma’s letters stop, too?
