I returned home and told Joseph what I'd done, and he hugged me. He told me he was proud. I was shaking and he told me that this was because it was my first killing and that it was a normal reaction. The second time would be like killing chickens.
They are all chickens, he said. There are lots of them out there and nobody would ever notice they are gone. Children are born every day, and we are just making room for more.
"What time is it?" I asked, suddenly realising we must have been sitting and reading the diary for hours.
Lorin looked up. The sun was directly above us. "It must be lunchtime. Come on, we should get back, mother will be worried.”
As we hurried back along the forest path, I thought back to my first trip to the village with Lorin and the nice shop he'd taken me to. I had begun to feel a little safer with Lorin looking after me, and I felt we had a special bond together. But, the disturbing entries in the diary now made me feel even more fearful for mine and my brother’s life. Our father was getting older and acting stranger. Who knew what his twisted mind was capable of thinking, or doing.
Finally, we made it back to the house. Thankfully Moises had not yet returned from his trip, so we headed straight into the kitchen, which was filled with the smell of mother’s cooking, and we each gulped down a large glass of water.
Our brothers and sisters hadn’t yet returned from working on the plantation, and as Lorin and I were sitting in the kitchen, finishing our drinks, mother walked in. From the look on her face, I could see she wasn't at all happy with us.
"Neither of you realise that your father can just turn up any day now. And if he does, he’ll see that you're not working in the plantation like everyone else," she said, her voice laced with emotion.
I knew from the look on mum’s face that she was more sad than angry. Sad, for she knew what Moises was capable of, should he come home and find us both in the forest together.
"But we were just out fishing mum," Lorin blurted, without thinking.
Mother looked at him sternly. "You'd better be quiet. Lying will just make things more complicated. Tell me what you were really both doing in the woods, or your father will surely find out."
I knew mum would never tell our father, so I thought it best to tell her, otherwise she would just worry more. "Mum, please don't be angry, but Lorin and I have been reading dad's notebook," I said, fearing the worst.
Mum’s eyes widened. "I told you to keep away from that box!" She shouted.
"But mum, we had to know. We had to find out what he's been doing all these years."
Mother looked at us both in turn with sad eyes. "Now you know, what are planning to do about it?" she said angrily.
"Well I want to read the rest of it," Lorin replied, turning and leaving the kitchen.
With Lorin gone I felt a little less confident.
"I want the key to the box right now," Maria demanded.
"But mum, we must read the rest of it," I said, sheepishly.
"Your father can come home at any time Emilia. We must put the key in the lock and then he will think he just forgot and left it in there."
Mum was right, I thought. I knew dad's mind was not in the right place anymore. He often appeared deep in thought, often forgetting things. He may just think he'd forgotten to take the key out of the lock.
Mum held her hand out.
I dug into my jeans pocket and pulled out the key and handed it to her, before running out of the kitchen to find Lorin.
The next few days, whilst Moises was still away, life was good, and things returned back to normal. But on the second evening our father returned. I only saw him briefly, but he ignored me, as usual, but he looked worried, more so than usual.
He didn't go straight to his wooden box, which meant he had more pressing things on his mind.
Later that night, when everyone had gone to bed, I lay in my bed, unable to sleep. The stories from my father’s diary were spinning around in my head. What other terrible things had he done?
As I tried to sleep, I heard voices coming from my parents room and so I got out of bed and quietly crept along the corridor towards their room. I could see a sliver of light coming from the narrow crack under their door and I crouched down, listening to my father’s deep, almost zombie-like voice.
“If I don’t return next time, I need you to take the wooden box from under this bed and destroy it. Do you understand?”
My mother was silent.
“I said, do you understand,” he said, anger simmering in his raspy voice.”
“Yes, yes I do,” I heard my mother reply.
Suddenly I heard the floorboards squeaking on the other side of the door and I stood and ran as silently and quickly as I could back to my room, jumped on my bed and hid under the covers.
I heard my father’s heavy footsteps approach my door, before stopping briefly outside. I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard him walk slowly back along the corridor in the direction he’d come from.
An hour or so later, when the house had finally fallen quiet, I finally fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 22
Close To Death
IT WAS ONE of the hottest summer’s I could remember in a long while. The forest had dried out completely and the river was running very shallow, barely above our ankles. I loved playing in the river with my brother, catching small fish, just for fun, but it was now even easier. The river was so shallow that the fish had nowhere to go.
After spending all day in the forest, Lorin and I returned home with a bag full of small fish, our faces bright red and burning hot from the heat of the sun. We ran into the kitchen to see mother, but I froze in terror as I saw my father striding towards us, his eyes full of rage; looking more like a wild animal from the jungle than a human being.
"I don't want to see you both playing together anymore," he shouted.
"Why? What have we done wrong?" I asked, confused, holding back my tears.
"I’ve watched you both together and I've seen the way he looks at you. I'm not stupid Emilia, I know what he wants. I know he's your brother, but that won’t stop him wanting you as a woman!" he screamed.
Lorin looked at father, aghast, his face full of anger, tears streaming down his cheeks.
I could not believe what our father had just said, and clearly neither could Lorin. It was the most bizarre thing I'd ever heard him say. Lorin turned to leave and I tried to follow him, but I felt my father's huge hand pull me back. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he said.
I stood there, listening to my father hurl abuse at me; about the way Lorin supposedly felt about me. It was absurd. My father was sick to even think the way he was thinking. All I could do was listen to his nonsense and cry.
The next day and every day after, Moises made poor Lorin work from early morning until late every evening, just to ensure that the two of us couldn't spend time together. As the days passed, I started feeling more alone than ever. I had lost my brother, my friend and someone I considered to be my protector. Not only that, but my grandfather had become very ill around this time, and my poor grandmother was unable to come to the farm as much as she used to. I started to miss her so much.
The week dragged by very slowly. It felt like ages since I’d seen Lorin, and the time we spent playing together in the river catching fish, felt like a distant memory, but in reality it was only seven days ago.
Today was Sunday and I got out of bed, wondering what the new day would bring. I could smell the aroma of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen, so I quickly dressed and headed towards the pleasant smell.
Mum was standing there, placing a pot of fresh coffee, along with some sweet corn cake she'd baked, onto a tray. “Morning Emilia,” she said. “You’re Just in time to help me carry all this out to the mango tree.”
I smiled and helped her with the cups. Outside, the sun’s rays were already hot, but the fronds from the tree gave us some shade from the heat.
As we all sat and chatted, I was surp
rised to see Carlinho, Lorin's best friend from the shop in town, appear from the side of our house, and approach us. He was dressed very smartly. I could see from the look on mother's face that she too was surprised to see him. Nobody ever came to visit us; people were too scared. But he was Lorin's best friend after all, and was more than welcome to visit anytime.
"You're looking good mate. Going to a wedding or funeral?" Lorin joked.
Everyone burst out laughing at Carlinho, until he told us the reason he came over.
"I came to talk to your father Emilia," he said, smiling at me.
"What? Why do you need to talk to him?" I asked, feeling my stomach churn over.
Carlinho then tried to grab my hand, in front of everyone. Even though I liked him, I pulled my hand away, scared at what my father might think.
It wasn’t long before I found out. Moises came striding out from the house, no doubt overhearing the conversation that had just been taking place. "So, what do you want to talk to me about?" he said, staring at Carlinho straight in the eyes.
"Er, Mr Moises, I came here to ask your permission to date your daughter," he said, matter-of-factly.
I felt my face go bright red. I didn't know what to do, so I ran inside the house and hid in the kitchen. I knew what was coming. Moments later, I heard my father shouting and screaming. He was absolutely furious.
"Get off my property before I kill you!" I heard him shout.
Worried about what was going to happen, I stood up and peeked out of the window. I saw Carlinho jumping on his horse as fast as I'd ever seen anyone get on a horse, and ride off in a cloud of dust.
Then, through the cloud of dust, I saw my father turn towards the house. I knew that he was coming for me! I heard his footsteps coming in my direction, but before I could run, my father was upon me and he grabbed my hair and pulled me out of the kitchen and outside to where all the family were standing.
“I gave you the liberty to go into the village, and all you do is betray me,” my father screamed.
"Leave her alone!" Lorin shouted, as he pushed Moises away.
As soon as I heard Lorin say that, I knew things were going to end badly. Father hit Lorin and he fell to the ground. He then grabbed the horsewhip that he used to dominate the horses with and started thrashing me with it. The pain was immediate and intense, and I fell to the floor, unable to protect myself from my father’s fury.
My father then began to kick me. I couldn’t believe it was happening, in front of my family, with everyone standing there. The pain became so unbearable that I couldn’t breathe, and then I heard a crack. I guessed my father’s heavy boot had broken one of my ribs.
Lorin then jumped on top of me to try and protect me, stop our father from killing me. He smothered me, protecting me from father’s blows, until he was too tired to beat up on us any longer. Eventually he stopped, swearing as he walked away.
Lorin remained on top of me, his body shaking from the beating, cuts all over his body dripping blood onto me. He didn’t let me go. He continued holding me until mother came to take me away.
As my mother dragged me away, Lorin whispered into my ear. “I’m going to kill him some day.”
Later, as I sat on my bed, Lorin’s reassuring voice echoed in my mind. My mother was cleaning my wounds with cotton and was strapping up my rib cage. I whispered to myself, over and over. “We can do it…we can do it.”
“We can do what?” Mother said, overhearing my mumblings.
I ignored her, too deep in my thoughts and in too much pain to care.
I was lying on my bed and realised I must have been asleep for some time. The beating replayed in my mind. It was like I was being attacked by a wild animal in the jungle, only worse. The attacker was my own father. I opened my eyes and sat bolt upright in bed. “We can use the same method he used to kill all the others!” I said.
As I opened my eyes, I saw a dark figure standing at the end of the bed. My heart skipped a beat, until I realised it was Lorin, who’d come to check on me. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see his bruised face looking at me, his eyes full of anger. “He can’t continue like this, he will kill us next time,” I said.
“Not if I get him first,” Lorin said.
I knew Lorin was determined to kill father, but I wasn’t so sure it was the right thing to do. My grandmother’s words and teachings drifted into my mind. All would be lost and you will become what you hate most…your father.
The days that followed the beating became ever more difficult. I couldn’t spend any time with Lorin or playing with him like before. We became like shadows, catching brief glimpses of each other, but not speaking. We became obedient, just like our father had wanted.
One thing that couldn’t be broken however was our spirit. We continued to communicate, not by speaking, but by leaving letters and notes for each other, in hidden places. We continued to make plans, waiting for the day that our father would go away again. That day would come, we knew it would, but we just had to be patient and wait.
CHAPTER 23
Good and Bad
WE DIDN’T HAVE to wait too long for Moises to depart again. We didn’t know how long he’d be gone for this time, and mother didn’t tell us. Perhaps she had no idea either. But at least I could see Lorin again. I’d missed spending time with him so much since the beating, just being with him again was soothing in itself.
My right shoulder and ribs were still sore, but the majority of the pain had gone, and I was feeling stronger every day.
It was late Saturday afternoon and father had disappeared at dawn, and we hoped he’d be gone until Monday at least. I looked out of the kitchen window. Everyone else was at the planation, even mother. Huge black clouds were rolling in from the west and I knew it was going to pour down shortly.
Lorin came running in from outside. “Hey, there’s still a lot to read in the devil book,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
“The matador book?” I replied, winking at him, happy that my brother had the same thoughts as I. The only thing I wished was that my father would never come back. Life would be so much easier for all of us. Deep down, I had a feeling that his past would eventually come back to haunt him, and sooner or later, we would be free of him.
“Come on, let’s get the book and go to the forest,” Lorin said.
As he spoke, the rain started coming down, slamming the windows and bouncing off the ground outside like glass pellets. Soon the storm would be upon us.
“Let’s read it in the bedroom, I’m not going out there,” I said. I knew the rest of the family would be trapped at the plantation while the storm continued. They could shelter in the bungalows which had been built for that very purpose.
We went into the bedroom, retrieved the blood book from the box under the bed, and Lorin, who was better at reading than I, continued reading from point we’d stopped at a few weeks earlier.
September 1958
It was late in the afternoon when I heard the baby crying. I pushed the bedroom door open and ran in.
“It’s a boy,” Firmina said, holding in her arms a beautiful and healthy little boy. I felt my heart pumping so fast. I held my son in my arms and felt the happiest man in the world.
We named our son Dionizio. A few months passed and I couldn’t believe how fast he was growing. Maria had a lot of milk and breast fed him all afternoon. Later, I talked to my boss and told him that I was planning to move, and have a farm of my own.
Although my boss never liked to lose anyone, he treated me like a son and accepted my offer of continuing to work for him, anytime, whenever I was needed.
I built a small bungalow on a small farm that I was able to buy with my boss’s help and Maria and I soon moved there. The land was empty, no plantation, nothing.
Time passed so quickly. I was able to get some cows and horses and before I knew it, Dionizio was two years old and following me everywhere. He was a smart boy. The first word he said was “Papa!” He was so curious. One d
ay he decided to climb upon the table, as he usually did. I told Maria to keep an eye on him as he could fall. She was busy though as we had people staying with us on the farm and she was cooking for them.
My little boy fell from the table. I felt my heart fall from my chest at the same time, as I ran to the dining area. He was on the floor, not moving. I picked him up and checked his heart. It was still beating, but only weakly.
Maria was in a panic and she screamed so loudly that everyone came running over. I smacked my son hard and called his name to wake him, but his body was like jelly. A few moments later, Dionizio started to cry. It was such a relief that for the first time Maria hugged me and cried on my chest. We then took Dionizio to bed, but there was a large lump on his head.
The next day we were relieved to see Dionizio running around again, as if nothing had happened. I made sure he didn’t get too close to the table of course. That night Maria and I went to bed early. The work on the farm was so tiring, that we often went to bed at 7 p.m. On the second night after Dionizio fell, we heard a strange moaning coming from his bedroom. I got up, lit a candle and went into see him. He was quiet and looked like he was sleeping, but as I turned to leave; I saw his little pillow was covered in blood. It turned out, our little son was dead. He had brain damage from the fall, and blood had been trickling from his nose. I dropped to my knees and for the first time, I cried uncontrollably.
Maria came into the room, and after consoling each other, we stayed there holding our only son, Dionizio, who was now sleeping forever.
From that moment on, my life became a dark path. I’d lost the most precious thing I had, and nothing else mattered to me anymore. We eventually took our son to the church in order to be blessed before burying him in the small cemetery in the town.
Daughter of the Forest: Diary of an Assassin Page 11