Essay: All Away

Javier Maverick Tristan shares a personal essay tracing lines across stories within a family, that are less talked about and more whispered.

Since my grandfather left, the screams have stopped. For years, Akong sat on that leathery, old, broken white chaise longue. Its leather seemed to have fused with the wrinkly skin on his back. His last months were filled with constant night terrors, screaming that someone was going to take all his wealth away. His screaming, “Who’s that tall man on the stairs?” when no one was there would keep me up all night for months prior to his passing. Yes, it could be the side effects of the meds he was taking, but to us, it’s the blurred line between life and death. My Ah ma, filled with hatred towards her own husband, used to tell me stories of his days as a gambling addict. She vividly described their fights, which sometimes turned violent. You have to understand, my family had their own unique set of ways to deal with problems like these; no, it’s not at the bottom of a bottle, most of the time. Some turn to unspoken crimes, some to narcotics, and some even to magic from the homeland, which curses have been brought elsewhere. The family’s soothsayer, whose mind has travelled to unworldly lands, spoke of the day fast approaching. “He has seen what was previously unseen. Be prepared.” I was not. My Ah ma rambled on again about how he took all her money from their struggle days, all the way back in Medan.