A VICTORY CELEBRATION
It hadn’t lasted long.
Not a single hour had passed during my absence from the Maximum Security Prison. After five days of suffocation within those walls, my escape opened a valve flowing with oxygen and I came back to life. My liberty, though short-lived, gave me the strength to finish off my time. During my stolen freedom I had lived intensely. I had lived my moment of glory and would never forget the happy faces of my fans, smiling, whistling, and yelling as they applauded my unforgettable ride on the shoulders of Chief of Police.
Five days of confinement had opened my eyes and taught me that only those who could control their actions deserve to be free.
I had learned my lesson.
From now on, I would be careful. I hoped that I would not run into anyone who would provoke my temper, but if I did, I promised myself I would control the rage that had landed me in jail for nine days.
In the good hands of Cheif of Police and Judge, I was quickly and painlessly returned to the Maximum Security Prison in the comfort of Judge’s automobile.
I found it strange that he parked the car far from the prison and that he tiptoed in, quietly as a cat. Later, I realized that he wanted to check to see that Jailer was still locked up.
Silently opening the door, he listened carefully.
His eyes scanned the premises. The noise that emerged from within the prison was that of a lock being opened from inside. Judge’s heartbeat calmed down with relief. Jailer had obeyed his order.
“How can I help you, your honor?” he called from his cell.
“Here is the fugitive!” the judge answered.
No one needed to show me the way since I already knew where I was headed.
Back in my cell, I observed Jailer in the cell across from mine. His posture was the same as always — passive, eyes closed, and ears plugged into radio headphones.
Out of the blue, I came up with an idea. I asked Jailer for paper and a pencil and began to write just to kill time. Every once in awhile, I’d stop writing to check out Jailer’s indifference. In his expression, I hunted for a clue as to what was going on at the game. Finally, though I don’t know what I saw in his face, I knew that the game had ended with CC’s victory, thanks to Champion’s bold plan, Pilungo’s great defense, my goal, and to be fair, thanks to Jailer.
Ecstatic, after a while, I stopped jumping for joy and got back to my writing. The rest of my sentence in this lonely, silent hell no longer bothered me. When night fell, I stopped writing. In the distance, I heard the clamor of a multitude interspersed with firecrackers. It reminded me of the stadium. I listened more carefully and noticed that the volume was rising and seemed to be approaching. Fans armed with aqua flags were celebrating CC’s victory.
Making a deafening noise, the excited crowd that left the CSC, marched directly to the Maximum Security Prison. All of the fans, from the most humble to the most important, had joined the procession. In front was Priest with his robes flapping. With him were my parents, Secretary, Mayor, all of the CC team and Champion.
Even Chief of Police accompanied the group!
Only Judge was absent, because as everyone knows, he is not interested in sports.
I thought that I would die of happiness knowing that crowd outside was there on my behalf.
I jumped out of bed, stuck my arms out of the prison bars, and basked in the excitement. Everyone talked, yelled, sang, smiled, applauded in a cacophony, which ended only upon the arrival of Sazefeem playing the City Club fight song. After the last few chords, the captain, Commander, managed to silence the crowd, so he could begin the surprise solemnity planned for Champion, in the event that CC would win the inaugural game. Commander spoke as loud as humanly possible so that the fans could hear.
“On behalf of my CC teammates and the population of the City, as a token of our gratitude, we would like our coach, who is celebrating his birthday today, to accept the Loner’s Trophy."
Before finishing his sentence, Commander handed the splendid trophy to Champion, who as we expected was speechless. Overcome by emotion, he raised the trophy above his head. His vision clouded as tears washed down his face.
Mayor made a short speech expressing his great joy in not only for CC’s victory, but for all of the advantages the opening of the CSC had brought the City. He asked Secretary to read aloud the official decree that as mayor, he had signed that very afternoon.
“What’s going on?” people wondered.
Soon curiosities were appeased as Secretary proceeded to read the three items authorized by the Mayor. Looking quite uncomfortable, Secretary, who had been inching away from the mayor, returned to read the document.
Section 1
By the powers invested in me by the Municipal Constitution, as Mayor of the City, I hereby
A – commission Painter to produce a portrait of the Loner and his friends; and
B – request that said portraits be displayed in the existing frames in the City Museum’s Gallery of City Founders.
When he finished reading the first item, speaking rapidly, Secretary turned to Mayor, spitting out information:
“This request has already been fulfilled: the portraits of the Loner and his 100 friends are ready for viewing, each in its appropriate frame.”
Many people found the Secretary’s behavior odd. With beads of sweat sparkling on his forehead and upper lip, he seemed nervous and hurried. He did not even wait for applause to die down, before rushing through the second item.
Section 2
By the powers invested in me by the Municipal Constitution as Mayor of the City, I hereby
A– Commission Photographer to take portrait shots of the City’s authorities and distinguished citizens, whose names are listed in an appendix attached to this decree; and
B– request that said photographs be displayed in the existing frames in the City Museum’s Gallery of City Authorities and Distinguished Citizens.
After wiping at his face with his handkerchief, Secretary cleared his throat and zipped through the list of names.
Authorities:
Mayor
Judge
Priest
Chief of Police
After another quick pause, he read the very short list of distinguished citizens. In fact, the list included only one name: my father’s.
Just as before, when Secretary finished reading, he announced in a proud, but shaky voice:
“This edict has also already been taken care of. All of the photographs are hanging in their appropriate places.”
Whereas after the first notice he didn’t wait for applause to fade, this time he didn’t give the crowd any time to react at all before he started reading again.
Item 3
By the powers invested in me by the Municipal Constitution as Mayor of the City, I hereby request
A – that a Gallery of Heroes be created;
B – that said gallery be located in the entranceway of the City’s Sports Complex;
C – that photographs of those recognized as heroes by both the population and the City Counsel be displayed as City Heroes; and
D – that Photographer be commissioned to prepare these photos.
Paragraph 1: Below is an alphabetical list of the heroes:
Calunga: Hero of the Stadium
Champion: Hero of Heroes
Pilungo: Hero of the Stadium
Silvio: Hero of Track and Field
Teto: Hero of the Waters
Respectfully submitted: Mayor
Although he was proud of his office and his participation in the ceremony, Secretary had no time for further announcements. Stuffing the documents into his pocket, he ran moaning and holding onto his belly, pushing his way through the crowd in the direction of the public restrooms.
Only later on, did he return to the celebration. After completing his duties, he came back a relieved man. He danced happily all night long to the music of Sazefeem.
Inside my cell, I also danced and laughed and yelled as if I were outside mingling with the CC fans. I stuck my arms out of the prison bars and shook hands with lots of people. I kissed lots of people too, including my mother.
Jailer was still in the cell opposite mine. I looked over at him every once in awhile, and, believe it or not, he was always in the same position. His eyes were closed, ears plugged into the radio. Nothing could perturb him, not even the firecrackers or fireworks set off by Pyrotech. Not even the special Roman candle with over one hundred firecrackers could shake him up. Yet, the zombie didn’t miss a single attraction of the celebration. Tuned into the radio, he knew exactly what was going on. He also knew the latest news from the City. At dawn, a fantastic discovery had been made by a passerby. He and the group he was walking with, stumbled onto a big surprise at the crystal pedestal in the town square.
It was the Loner’s Trophy.
Their first reaction was good. They were pleased to finally see a statue placed on the beautiful pedestal in the park. The inscription on the plaque was short, but sweet:
In memory of the Loner.
After the initial shock, the group stopped to appreciate the trophy. They were startled to note that somehow the statue had changed. The Loner’s features had been transformed into the well known and well loved face of Champion. Whoever passed the Town Square stopped in awe unable to deny the truth, and soon a crowd had gathered to check out the mysterious transformation. Because truth often proves to be illusion, the occurrence generated many questions, and soon curious citizens showed up to investigate the phenomenon. They, in fact, believed that it must have been Painter, the same artist who had created the portrait of the Loner for the City Museum, who had touched up his work. It seemed like Painter had given both men the same features and expression. That would be easy enough to check out. All they had to do was visit the City Museum to compare the two faces. And that is exactly what they did, running to see the enigma solved.
The first to arrive were dumbfounded in front of the portraits. The portrait of the Loner had undergone the same transformation. From then on, the people had to accept the magical reality, especially after Painter went to the Town Square and Museum to investigate what had happened. He had no explanation.
So, the mystery continued.
No one in the City could imagine what had occurred. No one. Not even Priest. People believed that perhaps Champion would be able to shed some light on the subject, but that was another enigma. Where was Champion?
From the moment that he received the trophy from Commander, the old hero had disappeared from sight like water absorbed by the earth.
He left only a token to remember him by: the Loner’s Trophy — a memorial that the people would zealously care for in the prettiest spot of the City.
The Town Square — on top of the pedestal.
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