A Magical Tale - by Hénock Gugsa

A Magical Tale *
by Hénock Gugsa
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--- Part 1 of 3 ---

Zach was not sure if he was in some sort of reverie where, out of the blue, he found himself in the middle of a strange forest.  The surroundings were dark, ominous, and unfriendly.  Not too far away, and in a starkly gray panorama lay a sort of a gorge, almost a canyon --- barren, craggy, and totally devoid of life except for a tall, fat, old man.  He was waving his arms feverishly from the center of the canyon, and the tuft of yellow hair on his head was billowing wildly in rhythm to his arms.

Then came the sound of determined feet as they crushed and crumpled the fallen leaves on the forest's uneven ground.  The unsettling rustle seemed to be headed in Zach's direction.  At that moment, he was suddenly shaken loose from his frozen state.  He was now sharply alert and his ears could now make out a choir of small angelic voices singing arcane nursery songs.

Zach looked around him, but saw nothing.  He was at his usual spot in the park ... and he had not felt the need to walk around and explore the surrounding forest.  But now as the voices seemed to draw near him, his feet which moments before had seemed non-existent had miraculously materialized.  He could feel them pulsating although he wasn't yet sure he was their master.  His toes wriggled as if they had lives of their own, and his knees started to bend and then to flex .  Zach felt alive!

The singers appeared as if from empty air and floated in front of him ... a strange sight indeed!  Three little girls were dragging a little boy behind them. His hands were tied in front of him with a  coarse rope.  The children, including the boy, were all about the same age ... not older than six or seven.  Each girl had on a different color blouse, ... the leader wore blue, the second girl had on green, and the third girl wore red.  As for the little boy, he was nondescript as to clothing or general appearance, but he looked distressed and helpless.

Now face to face with Zach, the little girls began to sing a mocking song ...

     Zachary, Zachary ... where's your sanctuary?
     You're stuck, you can't move, you got feet o' lead
     What to do, what to do, poor boy without hope
     The year went by quickly, we're back to January!
     You can't jump, and you can't fall on your head
     'N to get over that rock, you gonna need some rope!

     Zachary, Zachary ... where's your sanctuary? ...

The little girls sang and cackled as they dragged the little boy along.  Soon they tired of him, dumped him in front of Zach, and scampered off ... away toward the bleak canyon and the old, fat man still waving his arms.

Zach looked at the disheveled little boy closely, and as he did so, the little boy started to dissolve into thin air right there in front of him.  But as the child started to vanish, he became recognizable to Zach.  That was Zach himself some fifteen years back!

[... to be continued ....]

 

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*Inspired by a dream I had on 11/15/17

Thoughts on Traveling - by Hénock Gugsa

Thoughts on Traveling
[and My Status as a U.S. Citizen]
by Hénock Gugsa
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In less than a month, I'll be traveling to Ethiopia for the second time in the last 37 years.  And if you should know, I've been a U.S. citizen for a quarter century.  However, that has not exempted me from receiving the special "treatment" coming-and-going ...  and you can safely infer that there's absolutely no way I'll turn into a Patrick Henry in front of ICE.  I have to grin and bear it all ... and say to myself, "The terrorists have indeed won!"

Indeed!  The last time when I arrived at MSP's International gate, a surly-looking ICE man (?!) made a bee-line toward me and another brown-skinned person while we were still standing in line to go to the Arrivals' processing window.  This agent asked to see our passports and inquired where we were coming from.  Meanwhile, he never even glanced at the young couple behind me who were white.  The questions this man asked were asked of me two more times on the way to retrieving my luggage.  I have to take these indignities in stride as I would many things.  What was that thing I read somewhere that said: If you shout at the devil, do you think he will shout back at you!

Happy trails!