The Ignored

‘I never have enough sleep’, Emmanuel confided in his friend Kondwani. ‘My parents fight all the time. When Dad comes home, mum will start calling him names that are insulting, and he reciprocates by hitting her or calling her horrible names too. I only sleep in the early hours of the morning when their voices are hoarse and they are too tired to continue… I hate my home.’

Kondwani was shocked.

The two boys were leaving the school premises. Emmanuel, who had to wait for his father’s driver, was walking his friend to the bus stop.

‘But what do they fight about?’

‘According to my mother, my father has a mistress.’

‘What!’ Kondwani exclaimed.

‘It is that bad, my friend’, Emmanuel sobbed.

Kondwani hugged his friend in silence.

A bus pulled up. Kondwani let go of his friend with a sad little wave.

When Emmanuel got home, he felt a longing for his sister Precious. Forcing himself to think of other things, he went upstairs to his room.

‘I hope tonight I will be able to sleep a little.’ Sighing, he sat on the bed. He recalled how his parents often blamed each other for his sister’s death. Filled with sadness, the boy fell asleep.

The sound of a car woke him up. Emmanuel scrambled to the door and flung it open, watching as his father walked hurriedly towards the house. His step faltered when he saw Emmanuel standing in the doorway.

‘How was school?’ Strange, his father never asked him about school.

‘School was fine, Dad. Why are you home so early?’ the boy asked.

‘I feel tired.’ His father was looking down.

Emmanuel followed his father into the house.

‘Dad, can I speak to you about something?’ Emmanuel always found engaging his father in conversation a very daunting task.

‘Sure, son, what is it?’ He gestured for Emmanuel to sit while he remained standing.

‘Something wrong?’ His father frowned.

‘I would like to go to boarding school,’ Emmanuel stated, startling his father, who jerked forward.

‘What is wrong with your school?’ He could not believe this.

‘My school is fine, but I fail to sleep enough at home.’

Emmanuel’s father sat down. He had never realized this. What could he say when…

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the gate. He turned to his son, ‘Go to your room, son.

Emmanuel wanted to protest. Why should he to go to his room? But the look on his father’s face scared him. He ran upstairs to his room. The front door opened.

‘I beat up your mistress, you adulterous man!’

His mother’s angry voice floated up. The tone of it had Emmanuel’s heart thumping. This would be a bad day.

‘Let’s discuss this outside,’ his father said quietly.

‘There is nothing to discuss,’ she snapped. ‘This is the limit for me. How could you cheat on me, Jonathan? I am leaving.’ Emmanuel shivered. Mum wanted to leave? What would life be like without her?

‘Marjorie, I do not want the boy to hear this!’ Emmanuel hoped his mother would acquiesce for his sake, but she screamed even louder.

‘You never thought of him when you were committing adultery! You impregnated her as if Emmanuel is not good enough for you.’ Her voice rose in a screaming shrill, ‘Let Emmy know that you and your harlot are expecting twins!’

Even as Emmanuel tried to digest the fact that his father was having children elsewhere, he heard the first slap.

‘The woman is not pregnant!’

The rage in his father’s voice was alarming. Emmanuel moved to the top of the stairway. He heard his mother scream in pain even as she picked up the statue of the Hindu elephant god Ganesh. She brandished it threateningly in front of his father’s face.

‘Your harlot told me that you are expecting twins who are intended to replace my beloved Precious! How do you think I feel?’ Before his father could think of something to say, the statue landed square on his face. Emmanuel saw blood spurt out from his nostrils, and crimson stains appeared on his snow-white shirt. He ran down the stairs as he saw his mother lift the statue again.

‘Mum, leave him alone, you will kill him.’

She looked fleetingly at him and struck again. His father staggered and almost fell. There was blood on the side of his face. Emmanuel watched helplessly as his father grabbed both his mother’s wrists forcing her to drop the statue. It crashed to the floor with a loud clang. He then clenched his fists and rained blows at her. She screamed with pain as the onslaught continued. The boy had never witnessed a fight this ugly before. He ran to his father and tugged at his shirt.

‘Stop it, Dad!’ He was weeping as he ran to the front door, calling out to Silas.

‘Uncle Silas! Please come quickly.’

Silas was already standing outside the door but scared to involve himself lest he lose his job. The boy took his hand and pulled him into the house.

‘Please do something, Uncle.’ Emmanuel pleaded.

His father continued to hit his mother. Silas went to kneel beside his employer. ‘Please, sir, stop.’ His mild tone got through. The man moved away from his wife. He wiped blood off his face with the cuff of his shirt.

‘Bring a clean towel and some water son. We need to clean your mother and take her to the hospital.’ He sounded weary.

‘But you also need to be cleaned up, Dad. Your face is all bloody too!’ Emmanuel started crying again. What wrong had he done for him to have such parents? It was hard to even look at them.

‘Go do as I say.’

‘Yes, Sir.’ Emmanuel ran off.

Silas cleared his throat.

‘I think home remedies would be better. Going to the hospital might attract unnecessary attention, Sir.’

Emmanuel’s father understood what he meant. ‘I guess you are right, Silas. Please get me the first aid box from the kitchen. I will do what I can.’

Silas politely bowed his head and headed for the kitchen. Sighing heavily, he reached for the first aid box, grabbed some ice and the roll of paper towel. He rushed back to the living room.

‘Thank you, Silas,’ His employer said.

Kneeling beside his wife, Emmanuel’s father attended to her. He carried his wife upstairs and tucked her into bed before attending to himself and taking a bath. Afterwards he cooked dinner with his swollen face. It was the strangest night Emmanuel had ever experienced.

‘What are you preparing, Dad?’ He was genuinely curious.

‘I am making spaghetti with meatballs.’ His father smiled slightly, his face looking funny with all the little Band-Aids on his bruised face. The meal was delicious, and the two of them ate it together on the floor of his parents’ bedroom. Emmanuel’s mother had not stirred yet. When he was done eating, Emmanuel sat on his mother’s bed and held her hand. His father had gone back to the kitchen to clean up. His mother suddenly opened her eyes and looked intently at him. The boy was startled.

‘Emmy, my son,’ she muttered weakly. ‘Why Am I in bed?’

‘Mother, you are awake!’ Emmanuel smiled widely at her. He could not understand why she was asking him such a question. Did she not remember the fight? If so, then Emmanuel did not want to be the one to tell her why she was in bed. Let his father come and deal with this awkwardness himself. After all, he caused it, didn’t he?

Emmanuel looked down at the floor, praying that his father would soon appear. He was out of his depth here. Just then, as if in answer to his unspoken prayer, his father walked into the room. From his sudden change of expression, it was evident that he expected a barrage of words from his wife, but when none came, he looked at his son with confusion.

‘What happened to me?’ The question was directed at Emmanuel’s father in a quiet and confused tone. His wife did not remember what happened? He thanked his lucky stars, hoping she would never remember. But even as he was thinking these happy thoughts, realization was slowly dawning on his wife’s face. An angry expression came over her beautiful face. She attempted to sit up but fell back against the pillows. Emmanuel stood up from the bed. His mother, he realized, had remembered. He hoped another fight would not start.

‘Emmanuel, bring me a glass of water please’, his mother said.

‘I will get it, Emmanuel.’ His father stopped him.

‘I said Emmanuel!’ his mother snapped. ‘I could never drink anything you touch, you monster. You want to poison me?’

Emmanuel rushed out of the bedroom to get the water, glad to leave the room.

‘I want a divorce.’ Emmanuel’s mother looked at her husband.

A deathly silence followed her statement. Emmanuel’s father did not know what to say. He knew that whatever he said would provoke a screaming response. Better to just sit this storm out and pray his wife gradually calmed down.

Emmanuel walked in with a glass of cold water. He offered it to his mother quietly.

‘Thank you.’ She did not look up at him. She took a long drink of the water, sighed and said to the boy, ‘Your father and I are getting divorced. He is marrying a new wife.’

Emmanuel looked at his father with horrified eyes. His father looked back at him without saying anything. The boy took this to mean this was true.

‘Dad, is it true?’

‘No, son.’

The boy wanted to believe his father, but what if his mother was right? What would he do?

‘It is true’, his mother said slowly in a subdued voice. It seemed as though all the fight had drained out of her. Emmanuel felt the tears gather in his eyes even as his mother continued explaining.

‘I received an anonymous note at the office the other day telling me that your father was having an affair with a young woman! I did not want to judge your father unheard. So, I visited the woman’s house using the directions given in the note.’

Emmanuel looked accusingly at his father. He felt terribly betrayed.

‘Do you know what happened when I got there?’

Emmanuel turned his attention back to his mother.

‘I did not knock but turned the handle of the door and walked in! You should have seen the look on your father’s face as he turned from kissing the woman to see me in the doorway!’

‘No!’ Emmanuel screamed.

‘Go to your room,’ Emmanuel heard his father say quietly to him. He was so glad to leave the room. He flung himself on his bed and cried his heart out. Eventually, he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Silas had to sprinkle cold water on Emmanuel’s face the next morning in order to get him to wake up. The boy was still exhausted. ‘Please let me just sleep; I can’t go to school today’, he implored Silas, who would not hear of it.

‘You have to go, Emmanuel. Talking and laughing with your friends will help lighten your mood.’

‘I guess you are right. I will get up. Have you seen my mother?’

‘Yes.’ Silas did not expand on that.

‘How is she?’ the boy asked.

‘She looks alright to me. You should not worry; everything will be okay. It is normal for couples to have differences now and then.’

‘You have a mistress, Uncle Silas?’ Emmanuel asked.

‘No, I do not think God would approve of that.’ Silas was a very devout man raised in the Baptist faith. He had a wife and three small children. He often told Emmanuel that his life revolved around God, his wife and his children. He lived for nothing else. Emmanuel could not understand why his father could not just love his mother the way Silas loved his wife? He could not see what made the two men different.

Emmanuel got ready for school. He felt very tired and wished this was a Saturday instead of Friday. Yawning widely, he packed his books and headed for the door. Emmanuel could not go without seeing his parents, so, walking rapidly towards their bedroom door, he knocked.

‘Good morning, Emmy.’ His mother’s voice greeted him. It sounded quite normal but a little sad.

‘Good morning, Mummy. How are you feeling?’

‘Don’t worry about me, son. I feel fine. You run along, and I will see you later.’ Her cheerful chatter sounded forced, but Emmanuel was happy that she was not angry anymore.

‘Do you have everything you need?’ His father asked from downstairs. He was carrying a pillow and a light blanket. Obviously, he had spent the night in the guest bedroom downstairs. Emmanuel felt the tears welling up, but he wiped them angrily away.

‘Yes, Dad. I have everything. I will be off now. Enjoy your day.’

‘Have a good day, son.’

Uncle Zulu glanced at him before starting the car, but the boy kept his face averted. He did not want him to see his sleep-deprived eyes. They drove for almost ten minutes before Uncle Zulu asked quietly, ‘Everything okay?’

‘Yes.’ He still did not look at Uncle Zulu.

There was silence in the car until they got to the school gate. Uncle Zulu stopped the car and looked at the boy. Emmanuel had fallen asleep with his mouth open. This was not the first time this had happened, on the twenty-five-minute drive to school. Uncle Zulu’s heart broke with sadness. He could not understand why the boy’s parents were not seeing what they were doing to their son. He wished he could just drive the boy back home so he could sleep. Silas had told him what had transpired the previous day back at the house between his employer and his wife. The couple lived such a terribly unhappy life. Uncle Zulu sighed. He reached his hand and gently nudged the boy awake.

‘Emmanuel, we are at the school. Fight hard. Do not sleep in class today.’

The boy nodded, wearily opened the door and stepped out. He had firmly refused for Uncle Zulu to be getting out of the car to open the door for him. He was not some royalty or government top-ranking official, Emmanuel stubbornly asserted. Uncle Zulu loved the boy for his humble disposition, so different from the spoiled rich kids he came into contact nowadays. He smiled widely at the boy, hoping to cheer him up a little, and waved his hand.

Emmanuel’s first subject that morning was History, and their teacher announced that they would be having a test. He could not believe it! Today was the worst day for a test for him. He was in such a terrible state and was dying to close his eyes and sleep. Someone nudged him on the shoulder. It was his friend Kondwani. Emmanuel was delighted.

‘What happened to you, Kondwani? I have been looking for you all over! Were you late?’

‘Yes, my friend.’ Kondwani had sat at the desk behind Emmanuel since the term began, and because the door of the classroom was at the back of the room, he had walked in without his friend seeing him.

‘What happened to you, Emmanuel? You look terrible.’ The words came out in a fierce whisper.

‘There was hell at home last night.’ No use hiding anything from his friend now.

‘I will explain to you at break time. It was terrible, Kondwani!’ Emmanuel was almost in tears.

The teacher noticed them talking.

‘What is going on there at the back, Kondwani and Emmanuel? Do you want to be disqualified from taking the test?’

‘Sorry, Sir,’ Kondwani mumbled quickly before the teacher could notice the haggard look on Emmanuel’s face.

Five minutes later the test started. Emmanuel’s eyelids were so heavy he was having problems keeping them open. He tried to force himself to stay awake, but the room appeared to be going round and round. Should he perhaps ask the teacher for permission to go out? But that would be unacceptable. He had already seen the question paper, and the teacher would think that he was going to consult his books for the answers. It was better to just sit still and continue battling the sleep that was fast overpowering him. He began to hear the angry voices of his mother and father raised in anger. Their faces were beginning to manifest in front of his eyes, zooming in and out of focus. The boy desperately tried rubbing his eyes to make the images go away, but nothing was working. Emmanuel thought he was going to lose his senses. What could he do? He felt the pen fall from his fingers and heard it hit the floor. He bent over to retrieve it, and his head made contact with the desk. At that point everything swung out of focus, and his world went black.

Everything was quiet in the class until suddenly sounds of loud, deep snoring were heard. The teacher could not believe it! Was someone actually sleeping in his class? His eyes roamed the classroom until they rested on Emmanuel’s head, cradled in the crook of his arm, fast asleep. Alarmed, Mr. Simwanza walked over to Emmanuel and gently shook him.

‘Hey, Emmanuel, wake up! Are you sick?’

The boy mumbled something and went back to sleep. Amid laughter and disbelief, the whole class was now watching.

‘Emmanuel!’ The teacher shook again.

Startled, Emmanuel sat up and looked around him. He seemed dazed and disoriented.

‘You are in class, writing a test’, the teacher explained.

‘I do not think that I will manage to write today, Sir. I do not feel well.’ Emmanuel indeed looked sick.

‘You should not have attended school then. Should we call your father or mother?’

‘No, Sir. I will call Uncle Zulu to come. All I need is sleep.’

‘Alright then. Collect all your belongings.’

‘Thank you, Sir.’

Soon Uncle Zulu was at the school, concern written all over his face. Emmanuel was soundly sleeping in the secretary’s office.

‘Emmanuel’, Uncle Zulu shook him awake. ‘Let me take you home. Are you feeling any pain?’

‘No, Uncle Zulu. I just need to sleep. I can’t remember the last time that I slept properly.’

The secretary waved at him.

‘Go get some rest, dear. We will see you soon!’

Emmanuel waved back and walked out.

‘Is everything okay?’

‘Yes. The issue is not a serious one but we need to have a meeting with you and your wife at your earliest convenience.’ Emmanuel’s father recognized the Head Master’s voice.

‘What happened?’

‘Your son slept through a history test. We are deeply concerned, Sir.’

‘I will speak to my wife and get back to you this afternoon.’ Emmanuel’s father hated himself even as he responded to the Head Master. All this was his fault, and he knew it. He had created a house for his son but not a home.

Emmanuel was getting out of the car outside their gate when he saw his father arriving also. He was surprised and alarmed. Maybe his father was not feeling well after all; the blow he received to the head from the idol had been very hard. He waved to Uncle Zulu as he drove off and stood waiting for his dad to pull up beside him. The gate was already wide open because Silas had seen his father arrive too. His father stopped the car and got out. ‘Son, are you alright?’ Before Emmanuel could respond, his father enfolded him in a bear hug. The boy was amazed. ‘Are you sick, Dad?’

His father tried to speak, but he could not. Tears were now falling freely from his eyes, and he did nothing to stop them. Let the boy see how sorry he was. Emmanuel had never seen his father so emotional. He took his son’s backpack and, still holding his hand tightly, started walking towards the house.

‘You are leaving the car outside?’ Silas politely asked him.

‘O, the car! I totally forgot. Let me drive it in.’

Still holding his son, he retraced his steps to the car, opened the passenger door for Emmanuel and then went round to get into the driver’s seat. He was behaving as if he could not let the boy out of his sight. They drove into the yard and stopped at the front door.

‘Let us go inside and see how your mom is doing.’ Emmanuel merely nodded. This was all so overwhelmingly new to him. Love was not demonstrated anymore in his home, and this from his father felt strange and awkward but nice. He smiled and followed his father inside. His mother was sitting in one of the recliners, reading. Emmanuel had never known his mother to like TV except international news and occasionally the local news.

‘How are you feeling Marjorie?’ Jonathan greeted his wife quietly.

‘What do you expect, Jonathan. I am doing well.’ Her reply was sarcastic but without the angry sting of the previous night. She noticed her son then, and she struggled to stand, to go to him. Emmanuel walked over to her and embraced her.

‘Why are you back so early from school?’ she glanced at her husband inquiringly.

‘It is a long story’, Emmanuel’s father replied. ‘I will tell you every­thing, but Emmanuel needs to go to bed right now.’ The boy nodded vigorously and took off. Let them talk; after all, it was their fault.

Emmanuel’s mother went back to the recliner and closed her eyes. She had no intention of talking to her husband.

‘I am so sorry, Marjorie, for the way I have been behaving since our daughter died. I was so much in pain that I did not know how to handle it. In seeking a remedy for my pain, I allowed myself to fall into temptation, and before I knew it, I was in too deep.’

He paused to give time to his wife to say something, anything, but she was silent. He did not have the courage to look at her face. He was scared of what he might find there. Since his wife was not saying anything, he soldiered on.

‘My relationship with the woman in Chawama was a mistake. I was drunk the night I met her, barely three days after we buried Precious. I needed something with which to dull the pain and the alcohol seemed like a good idea. I had no idea that it would land me in so much trouble, and when I started the affair with Mwaka, it was purely as a remedy for pain. However, she was so cunning that I imagined myself in love with her. I know for sure that she is not pregnant, and I will never forgive her for deceiving you the way she has done. I want to give you my solemn word that I will end this foolishness and come back home. I can’t bear to see you and Emmanuel in so much pain.’ He moved closer to his wife’s chair and lifted up his face to look at her. Her eyes were closed. He had to do what he had to do to make this right. He fell on his knees in front of her, as the tears began to fall.

‘Let me tell you what else I am guilty of, Marjorie. Today our son was sleeping in class while his class mates wrote a test. Efforts by the teacher to make him wake up and start writing failed. He was too drowsy to even comprehend what the teacher was saying. The Head Master called me. He wants to meet with us as soon as possible. He is concerned about our son’s welfare. That is the reason why I had to cancel my morning’s meeting to come and talk with you.’ Emmanuel’s father’s voice broke with the intense emotion he was feeling. But at last, his wife opened her eyes wide with shock and looked at him.

‘It has come to this?’ she asked sorrowfully. ‘What have we done to our son, Jonathan?’

‘Yes, it has come to this. I have made our son suffer so much that he is the laughing stock of his class and his school. After thinking about this on the way home, I realized how sleep deprived the boy is. He never gets the full eight hours or more of sleep that he should because we fight all the time until way after midnight. The head of the school sounded really angry at me. This is wholly my fault. I admit it, and I promise to do what I can to change everything.’ He took his wife’s hands in his and was surprised that she did not draw away.

‘I know I do not deserve it, but can you please find it within you to forgive me?’

‘Jonathan, we will discuss this later, but can we rush to the school now?’

Her husband stood up and helped her up.

The ride to the school was quiet but comfortable. Both of them were deep in thought.

The meeting with the Head Master was short. He wanted to know why their son was sleeping in class. Was he ill? Emmanuel’s mother left the talking to her husband.

‘There have been certain circumstances that hindered Emmanuel from getting enough sleep. We shall do right by him from today onwards. I promise you this without any hesitation. He will have the rest he deserves every night.’ The man was sincerely contrite, and the Head Master could see that, and although he could not understand what the parent had meant by ‘certain circumstances’, he knew that it must be a sensitive matter. He had no wish to pry into their private family issues if they did not want to share. But he needed to make one thing clear in order to reinforce the voluntarily given assurance.

‘If he sleeps in class again or pays someone to do his homework for him again, we will have no choice but to consider suspending him.’

Emmanuel’s mother gasped. ‘He pays others to do homework for him?’

‘Of course. How else can he get it done? He is always drowsy. When I went to investigate this matter in the class, learners there came out to confess that many times, he has had to pay them to do his homework for him or to explain things he is unable to understand in class because of his drowsy state. Frankly, all his friends are worried about him. He is such a friendly and humble little guy. I just hope that we will not witness another snoring incident in the middle of a class test.’

Both parents were looking at the floor, unable to lock eyes with the Head Master.

‘We promise to make the necessary changes to improve his performance in class’, Emmanuel’s father mumbled sheepishly.

‘OK, that is settled then.’ The Head Master smiled at them both. ‘Thank you for taking the time to meet with me at such short notice.’

‘Thank you,’ they both answered simultaneously and stood up.

‘How could we not see what we were doing to the boy, Jonathan? Our poor son had no one to turn to, and even when he lost his sister, we were too buried in our own grief to realize that he needed us. I wonder what he really thinks of us’, Emmanuel’s mother lamented.

‘He obviously hates us,’ her husband said, shaking his head. ‘I only hope that it is not too late to right this grievous wrong.’

When they reached home and Emmanuel’s father had parked the car, they both sat in the car without doing anything and without speaking.

Finally, Emmanuel’s mother said to her husband. ‘Are you sure that continuing with this marriage is what you want, and are you also sure that you are not expecting twins with your mistress?’

‘As of today, Marjorie, there is no mistress, and there certainly are no twins. The stupid, illiterate fool was lying to you! I am begging you to forgive me, and let us give assurance to our son that we shall be happy as a family again, the way we were when Precious was alive. I am sure her soul was grieved by my behaviour. I am so ashamed of myself. Will you please forgive me, Marjorie?’

His wife suddenly reached out and held both his hands in hers. She squeezed them gently.

‘It is okay. Let us turn over a new leaf and give our son the life he deserves.’

The following morning was a Saturday. Emmanuel woke up at 7 o’clock. He had slept for twelve hours straight. Silas made breakfast for him.

Emmanuel was just finishing his breakfast when he heard both his parents coming down the stairs. He could not believe that they were speaking to each other normally. When they noticed him at the kitchen table, there was a short awkward silence, and then Silas came to the rescue.

‘What can I prepare for you, Boss and Madam?’

‘I will have black coffee and plain toast, please’, his father said

‘I will have the same, Silas.’ His mother smiled at him. Emmanuel could not understand why the two were not mad at him for sleeping in class. And when had this reconciliation taken place? He smiled at both his parents and picked up his empty plate and glass. He dropped the items into the sink.

‘Would you like some more food or perhaps orange juice?’ Silas addressed the boy politely.

‘No thank you, Uncle Silas. I am stuffed.’

He was about to withdraw into the living room when his father addressed him.

‘Please sit down, son, we need to talk.’

Here it comes, Emmanuel thought, sitting down. He hoped it would be brief.

When his father begun to talk, the boy thought he was not hearing right, ‘I want to apologize to you, my son, for my behaviour in this house since the time your sister, Precious, left us.’ He paused and then continued. ‘I have no excuse for the suffering I have caused you and your mother by straying from my home. I know that it is entirely my fault, because if I had not gotten myself entangled with another woman, I would not have been fighting with your mother all the time, thereby depriving you of a quiet and peaceful environment in which to rest and sleep. I cannot apologize enough for this. Please forgive me, my son.’ He waited for his son to say something, but the boy was so overwhelmed with joy that tears were already falling from his eyes. Emmanuel remembered Kondwani his friend telling him that he had been praying for him; for his life to get better. God must have heard his prayers. His father started to speak again.

‘I also want to assure you that I have ended the foolish relationship I had with the woman in Chawama Compound. She and I are not expecting any children. Everything she said to your mother was a blatant lie. I want us to live happily as a family again. I regret that it had to take the recent ugly events in this family to make me realize just how much I treasure and need you and your mother. All we have is each other, and we must not take this good thing we have going for granted. From now on, my life will revolve around the two of you.’

Emmanuel stood up and put his arms around his father.

‘Thank you, Dad! I will do my best to be a good son to you and Mummy, and I will improve on my school work.’

‘Thank you for your forgiveness, son. Your mother and I had a meeting with the Head Master at your school, and we admitted before him that it was our fault that you never get to rest and sleep adequately. We gave him our word that from now on things will be different.’ Emmanuel disengaged himself from his father and went to his mother, whom he held tightly. He was so happy that he had gotten his parents back.