The House with the Rooster Weathervane

Her fingers seared down the side of her face as she looked up at his skinny frame. She bit her lips, wincing at the lacerations she saw clawing down both his cheeks. This was goodbye. He could still muster a faint smile though. But it was a fool’s smile. His face was pressed close against the train car window. Tears masking a grin. Her eyes never left his. She could still see a semblance of strength. The embers of a dying flame. She tried her best to keep a beaming smile for him to take on his journey. But as the train began to move, she couldn’t help but cry too.

Kao was running down the street as fast as she could. Her leg trembled as she tumbled and picked herself up time and time again. Behind her she could see drops of her blood as it hit the concrete. Her face was bruised and swollen. She was almost there now. The nosebleed had stopped, but the pain persisted. She was used to this. It was nothing she couldn’t bear.

She stopped to catch her breath when she got to the house with the rooster weathervane, where she crouched down to her knees by the road to recover. As she breathed in heavily, she sat herself down with a sense of relief and began to weep. It was a quiet sob. No one was going to find her now. Above her she saw the twinkle of stars in a blanket of darkness.

There was a shuffle within the alley by the house. Kao saw his shadow lingering by the side of the dumpster. He lurched forwards slowly as he drew towards him. There was a humming clicking noise as he appeared in the moonlight.

When he walked out under the light, Kao saw his ragged clothes and the scars that embellished his arms. He walked with the aid of a crude wooden stake. Kao had remembered the first time she had met him, how she almost screamed in terror. He looked as if he was maybe thirteen or fifteen years old. A crippled homeless child. He slowly inched himself closer until he sat down too in front of her. His legs sprawled on the ground as he gave her a knowing look.

“Again?” Fae said softly.

She nodded. Kao was embarrassed. She knew he pitied her.

“What will you do this time?” Fae continued. This wasn’t the first time he had asked these questions. Kao knew that it was unlikely to be the last time.

Kao had a teary grin as she examined his haunting expression. His face weary with the struggles of living on the streets. But, there was an innocence of youth about him. She saw him look down as she failed to answer. His head hung in helplessness. They both knew that the answer is always the same. After some silence, he reached out his hand. In his hand he held a small red ribbon.

“A leftover cake,” he muttered.

Kao looked at him with an exasperated look. It was so childish, but it also touched her. She wondered what it was like to grow up alone. She also wondered which one of them was worse off. She reached out her hand as he gently tied it to her ring finger. Taking the form of a butterfly ribbon. She had stopped crying by now. Fae took out a pack of tissues from his bindle and started to wipe her blood away.

“Do you think it’ll ever stop?” Kao asked. She winced as Fae swabbed her wounds. Fae looked at her but didn’t say anything.

“He’s still my father, Fae.”

Kao was suffering from a splitting headache when she went home in the early morning. She tried tiptoeing through the door, but failed spectacularly when she tripped face first onto the living room rug. Her head hit the edge of the table in the process, smashing a few empty beer glasses to the ground. When she tried to push herself up, she cut her arms from the shards on the ground.

She heard the footsteps approach her just before getting struck right between the forehead. There was no time for her to react as she slammed back to the ground. He looked up at her father as he struck her again. He was drunk again. She could smell the alcohol in his breath. The old man must have been drinking before bed. The second hit came harder than the first. She couldn’t feel the third hit as she collapsed to the ground, passing out cold.

When she woke up there was blood all over the room. On the couch she saw a body slumped over the living room table. For the first time, the bloodstains weren’t hers. The police had already arrived. They put a warm blanket over her as the lights flashed around her. Her father was dead. Blunt force trauma.

The police said they had a lead, but they questioned her anyway. There honestly wasn’t much to say other than what she’s already told them before. She spoke flatly. They’ve heard it so many times already. Every single time she had reported it, she was never taken seriously. It was different this time. The interrogation had no flair of fake sincerity. It was cold without restraint. She was a suspect now. But she could also feel relief.

That was until she left the interrogation room. Flanked by two officers, she saw Fae with handcuffs at his back. Her father’s blood was still smeared on his face. It was a fool’s murder. Beneath his expression of fear, she saw a faint smile appear as he looked up.

The steam roared as the train whistled for departure. Her eyes never left him. Never left his knowing smile. She showed him the ribbon on her finger. To remind him of the fateful night she asked him to walk her home. To remind herself that justice can only be one’s own hands. A ribbon she kept tied on her finger as she waited for this day. For the day of departure. Of the train to deathrow.