The Strong Albino

(Smile eventhough it is painful to do so)

 

PANG!!!

The big, rough hand hit the young seven-year-old boy hard on the face, leaving red mark of the five-fingered hand on his white, flawless cheek. It hurts, he knew that. But he did not cry nor shouted in pain. He did not even run for his mummy. Weird. It was weird. For someone of his age.

“You’re nothing but a blunt-witted child!” his father thundered as he walked through the old, creaking door, leaving him and his pale mother behind. Her rough, work-callused hands hold his soft hands tightly. Her face was as white as sheet and stained by tears. He knew that she had been crying for a lot of time. She had been crying for him. Her only son. Her diseased son.

He did not know why he had to live in this life. ‘The presence of a child makes a family happier’. That was what he once read in a storybook. But his life did not. His father had never loved him. He had never being hug nor kiss by his father. In fact, he was rather despised by him. He never took him as a son at all but a stranger. He was said to be the bad egg of the family. ‘Did I do something wrong?,’ he wondered alone, before went to bed.

His granny used to ask him about how his father treated him. But all he said were ‘He’s meant to be nice, granny. He’s meant to be..’ as tears rolled down onto his pale cheeks freely like a free flowing river.

He was strange, that was absolutely true. The disease he got was a rare one. The moment he was born, on 31^st August, his mother knew that something was wrong. Her first born was not red. His hair was not black like hers. Everything was white. His hair, skin, and even his lips were pearly white. She almost lost herself when the doctor told her the ‘a’ term. Albinism. Yes, he was an albino. And due to this, he was alienated by people around him. No one liked him but his mother and grandmother.

(Arthur Drew with his mother, Genevieve Drew)

His father left the family for Italy a few years later. He was soon raised singlehanded by his widow mother. “You’ve got to be strong, Art,” she said as she cried again. Her eyes were badly swollen for crying too much and he was sorry for her. Touching her hands, he spoke in a soft voice , “I won’t leave your side, Ma. I’ll never do like what Pa did to you..”.

“Look what we have here,” a boy said pointing at him. “I didn’t know we have a You-Know-Who here”. Everyone laughed. This sort of scene was not peculiar for Art for he came across those words every day at school. ‘Voldemort’; that was what they called him, although he did not have a single idea who was that Voldemort. But, he had this feeling that this Voldemort person must be a weird looking person and hideous one.

14 years later, Art grew into a grown man. His hair soon had a bit shade of color. No more ghostly white figure. He had colors on him by this time. He worked hard at an opera as a violinist and a part time novelist. He wrote stories mainly on family bonds and a happy family. Art was good at writing and no doubt, his novels often became best-sellers. He ought to be happy with new life but he did not. He longed to meet his father. It had been years since his father left him. ‘Absence made the heart grows fonder’; here was no doubt that this proverb was true. He envied others who had loving father. But when he told this to his mother, the old lady just said the nine painful words; ‘He had died ten years ago in an accident’.

(Art and Heather on their wedding day)

‘Every Jack had his Jill’ and Art soon tied a knot to a femme a year younger than him who was also a novelist and a big fan of his novels. Heather, the young lady was a nice, down-to-earth one and she won Art’s heart for keeping his mother happy. Her family objected their marriage at first for they hated for having an albino for their son-in-law but they finally agreed after seeing the man’s humble self and sincere love towards their daughter. Do not judge a book by its cover. Art might not be a normal man but he may be a nice husband for their daughter.

Art and Heather lived a happy life just like the story he wrote for his novels. His mother finally became a granny when Heather gave birth to a pair of twins, Richard and Rowena. Both of them were normal kids and they were loved by everyone they met. Art was sort of jealous but he was happy for his twins. They would not experience the hard life he once had as a child. He was glad for this.

(Heather Drew with the twins, Rowena and Richard)

However, it seemed that ‘man proposes God disposes’. Things didn’t happened like what everyone had hoped. Art was later diagnosed with skin cancer. It was the third stage and nothing could save him anymore. Art became so weak that he was not able to neither eat nor drink on his own.  Heather knew that her husband would be greeting Death but she kept on praying to God for Art’s health. She told Art to promise her to keep his body and soul together for the sake of the twins but Art failed to fulfill the wish, breaking it to pieces. He greeted Death a few days later. He left in the midnight so that no one would notice. ‘Say no man a happy man until he is dead’. This was true for Art’s face showed a calm face and it looked as if he was sleeping peacefully.

(Art during his days in the hospital)

“So, Art wasn’t able to watch his twins grow up into young adults, Nanny?” Richard asked.

The old lady beside him shook her head. “I’m afraid he wasn’t, dear”. Richard’s sister, Rowena turned to the old lady. “But Art was sure a strong man, right Nanny?” she asked as she fixed her eyes upon the name carved on the marble.

HERE LIES

ARTHUR JAMES IVANHOE DREW

(JOINED THE LORD AT THE AGE OF 30)

            “Mother, it’s getting dark,” a man came nearby and holds the old woman’s hand. A woman came near them and placed her hands on the old woman’s other hand. “Mother, we should be going now,” the lady said.

            The old lady stood straight. The man and woman each walked beside their mother, three of them facing the marble. “Richard and Rowena, my darlings,” the old woman started to speak. “I hope that both of you will forgive your father for leaving you so early when you’re still need him by your side,”.

            Both Richard Drew and Rowena Drew hugged their mother with tears streaming on their faces. “Don’t worry, Mother. We had already forgiven him a long time ago,” Richard said. Rowena nodded as she added , “Father may had left us but we won’t leave you, Mother. Nor will the twins,”.

            They went home together with Rowena’s twins Richard and Rowena Longfield holding their nanny’s hands as they walked. Art might have died but his memories would still live within. He was, after all, the strong albino who never gave up in his life. 

~Life was never that easy but grow through it. You'll grow into a more grateful and courageous man that willing to endure everything that passes in front of him..~  

FIN..