Long Time Gone

Chapter 27

I named my newborn baby boy Samuel Campbell, or simply- Sammy. When questioned by the clergyman of its purpose, I simply stated that I named the baby after the Romantic poet, Coleridge.

The baby boy indeed reminded me of Coleridge's poetry. His little body embodied the essence of nature's beauty, where his little soft pink lips reminded me of the merry flowers in spring, his blue eyes depicting the endless summer sky that stretched across our heads.

Sammy was a bundle of joy, and after the passage of four months, he became a restless being who squeaked, hiccuped and babble everytime I picked him up in my arms.

His constant smile always made me grin, making me forget about my own worries. The sparkle in his deep blue eyes never seem to diminish, even when he cried. It was as if he was an ever lighting star, an angel sent to me from above as a reward for my sufferings.

He truly blessed my shadowed world, like a spark of hope, warmth and love that gradually engulfed all my troubles, turning my mind into a colourful place prior to a dull one.

Speaking of colours, Sammy was a colourful boy. With his dark auburn hair, blue eyes and pink cheeks, he made it impossible for me not to swoon over him every time I rested my gaze on his face. He was always happy, and I was so much at relief after discovering that he was not a crybaby at all. He was a laughing stock of rainbows and pearls. My little tutti frutti.

As much as Sammy was close to my heart, he was as distant with Mr Campbell. Whenever I cradled Sammy in my arms and sung him songs, Mr Campbell always peered at the baby with a sour look. He addressed my son with a distasteful expression, and every time I asked him to hold the baby while I did my work, he would simply neglect to do so.

A stern and a loveless man he was, a stern and loveless man he will always be.

My dislike towards Mr Campbell increased due to his obvious dislike towards Sammy. He would go to lengths to scream at the poor boy when he would wake up in the middle of the night, hungry or thirsty.

It seemed to me that the old man was slowly loosing it, and in order to unleash his annoyance from the baby, he exerted all his furiousness on me.

One day in the early spring of '66, I had set Sammy in his bassinet and stationed it at the porch steps of the cottage while I worked away in the barn. Mr Campbell, stepping out of the cottage, took no notice of the bassinet sitting there with the baby inside. His leg unfortunately caught the bassinet and he went tumbling down the steps, landing face first into the muddy ground.

Thankfully, nothing had happened to Sammy, but as I rushed towards the chaos, I noticed Mr Campbell covered head to toe in mud, a dangerous look on his face.

I had apologized endlessly to him. Mr Campbell, however, burst all his furiousness out at me as he scolded me about my careless actions, going to the lengths of whisking me into the barn from my hair and throwing Sammy's bassinet along with me.

I had cried tears of anguish that day, cradling my baby in the safety of my arms. From that moment on, I made up my mind to keep Sammy away from the stern clergyman as frequent as possible. He was strict with a four-month old baby, and he was severe in his actions towards me.

Soon into the summer, Mr Campbell's distasteful behavior turned more vile against Sammy and I. On the daily basis, he expressed his disappointment towards me, clarifying that I was a failure of a mother for spoiling my son.

He categorized spoiling under the tag of taking care of Sammy's basic needs. And whenever I pointed out the unjust absurdism of Mr Campbell, I'd receive a scolding from him, and if he was in the moodiest of moods, a great beating by his cane.