A Debt Incurred

Written by George Sanders

My desire to save my father outweighed the shame our family would receive. I hammered louder on Headway's door. The latch felt like it would give way at any moment. It taunted me to do something I should not. I paused my pounding. I wish my father had paused. The click of the latch was like the release of rain from the sky.
"I'm sorry, Headway. It is late, but my father..." tears welled up as I spoke.
"Iris, where is your hope? What has happened?" Headway offered his hand even at this late hour.
It was too late to turn back now. Is that what my father thought after what he did? I gathered myself. "My father has taken wood from outside our island. He said he deserved better than the filmsy bamboo."
Headway gathered his cloak and pulled a black bag from behind a shelf. "Take me to him."
We hurried across the village. The huts were ramshakle. The islands generated storms and after each we would have to do extensive repairs. My father was of noble descent and had argued many times with Headway about the state of things. Headway asked for his patience and to release his expectations. My father's pride and demand for status may be his end.
When we arrived at our hut, we could not open the door. The wood had swollen. The door would not budge. Headway put his hand on the door frame.
"Your father not only disturbed the spirits, he brought them into his home." Headway spoke as he knelt down and began sorting through his black bag.
"He was gasping for breath. It was like someone was sitting on his chest. He wouldn't grip my hand or respond to me." I was crying again as I spoke.
"You are lucky the spirit let you leave the hut." Headway was shaking his head side to side. He wasn't going to be able to repair my father's sins.
"We can only do what we can do. This will be your father's burden to bare, do not take it on for him. Promise me!" Headway gripped my hands firmly.
I didn't know what to say. Did he have a way through the door? I knew I would not repeat my father's mistakes, I whispered "I promise."
He turned back to the door. In a firm voice he said, "Spirit, Nightmare. I have been summoned to enter this home. You can not deny the waking."
The spruce wood of the door frame groaned, "Ungu." Then the door swung open.
We hurried to my father's bed. He looked blue. His chest was not moving! I called to him but there was no response.
Headway calmly said, "Bite his thumb. Come on, quickly now."
As I bit down, breath fill his lungs like it was his first breath. He started coughing. We turned him to the side so he could catch his breath. When he was strong enough to sit up, Headway spoke to him.
"You are now Indigent. Take the wood of your door frame off this island. Do not sleep until you return it to the place you took it. Dig a hole a foot into the ground and stand the door frame in it. Then you may return if you still have your life. Do not return until it is done."
My father's face turned red, his anger seethed. I did not think even now with all the evidence in front of him he would admit his guilt to Headway.
He did not speak and he did not lash out. He got his tool bag and began to take down the door. The timbers were heavy. He drug each to the edge of the island then pulled them out into the frozen landscape beyond.
I waited up that night for him to return. We dismantled the hut after that night. I'm still waiting for his return but that is why I have the name Iris, we believe the flower is an incarnation of hope.