These power dynamics were likely unintentional on the part of the leaders. However, the image of Father Prodido always being at the center and Tyran always standing to his right conveyed the real leadership hierarchy of Patrida. Their positioning told the tragic story of a leader falling from favor. Even more, it was the story of a man and his son and the growing distance between them.
Though walking as three among hundreds, Ochi felt like he was walking utterly alone. With each labored step forward, he carried the heavy weight of Patrida and her transgressions on his shoulders. The chains of his past misgivings and current regrets shackled him. Ochi knew there would be no mercy granted, nor forgiveness given, to a leader who wanted to guide Patrida along a different path. Any decision acquitting the prisoners and allowing them to go free would be his death sentence. But Ochi could no longer carry his burdens alone and could no longer walk with shackled feet. He would rather die a free man than remain a prisoner from within.
As the crowd hastily took their seats and silence spread among them, Father Prodido took center stage.
“Brothers and sisters, I greet you this splendid evening,” he began. “I trust that, despite the uncertainties of the last forty-eight hours, you have been assured by, and remained confident in, God’s unwavering providence and your Leadership Council’s steadfast resolve. While your continued favor, along with the humble service of the Patridian guard, have certainly blessed us, I would be remiss if I did not take this opportunity to magnify and lift up our glorious leader and his steadfast resilience in these trying times.”
Each word uttered by the religious leader was an arrow hitting the target. And Ochi was the target. The leader had to bite his lower lip so he would not call out the charlatan’s lies. At this point, Ochi was confident Father Prodido, Fovos, and possibly even Tyran had conspired together to turn the entire town against him. He raged internally with festering anger toward the backstabbing leader. Father Prodido had turned his son against him. Now he was setting the stage to make Ochi an outcast in his own town and the enemy of his own people.
Ochi nauseously closed his eyes and once again saw the painting hanging on the council room wall. He stared at the face of the man sitting in the boat and then looked at the child’s face. Ochi had always envisioned that child being Tyran, preparing for yet another trip to the island with him. However, he realized he had been forcing something onto the painting that had never been there. He had only seen the picture for what he thought it ought to be, rather than for what it was. The older man in the boat looked, not at a young boy sitting beside him, but a young girl whose hands joined his on the paddle.
Ochi stared at the young girl in his mind’s eye as if she was sitting right next to him in the boat. Despite refusing to see her before, he finally saw her. Regret had ravaged Ochi for so many years that he had neglected what had been with him all along. The painting began to take on an entirely different meaning for him.
Ochi no longer wanted to be consumed with anger toward Patrida or live in constant regret for his mistakes, even his mistakes with Tyran. He no longer wanted to look to the horizon in hopes of his life changing one day. Despite the confines of the small boat, or in his case, the confines of Patrida, he wanted what the older man in the painting had found. Before opening his eyes, Ochi whispered a prayer under his breath.
“As you well know, there was a grave misunderstanding this morning,” Father Prodido continued. “But I am happy to report that the Leadership Council gathered together with Fovos. Everyone aired their grievances, cleared their offenses, and agreed upon a new way forward. I now call upon our leader, your Excellency, as he will share with you these exciting developments.”
Putting an exclamation mark on his performance for the people, Father Prodido bowed before Ochi in phony submission and then stood off to one side next to Pali and Tyran. As Ochi took his place in the center and faced the crowd, he slowly looked from side to side to locate Thura. Not only was she not sitting next to Velos in the front row, but Ochi could neither find her sitting in the crowd nor trying to sneak in along the side. He desperately wished he could make eye contact with her. There was no way she would begin to understand what he was about to say or why he would say it.
“Greetings, friends and family,” the leader began hesitantly.
A blanket of unease covered the crowd with those first words. If they had been unconvinced of Ochi’s resolve the last time he stood before them, he was more monotone, unemotional, and detached this time. To the side, Father Prodido discreetly made eye contact with Fovos. Both men knew what the other was thinking at that moment. Ochi’s time as Patrida’s leader was expiring. His body language and tone made it evident to everyone. And not a single person suspected either one of them had anything to do with it.
Ochi meagerly continued.
“As the leader of Patrida over the last two decades,” he said, “I have always worked for the best interest of our community. You know I’ve never been as eloquent with my words as Father Prodido. But I have always led with my heart and have always had the best intentions for everyone.”
Once again playing to the crowd, the overly animated religious leader looked with astonishment at specific individuals sitting in the audience, shrugging his shoulders quizzically, indicating he had no idea where Ochi was going with his speech.
“With that being said,” the leader continued, “to protect the values and integrity of Patrida, I hereby announce the execution by hanging of our two prisoners, which will take place tomorrow at high noon.”
Half of the crowd booed, while the other half cheered in jubilation. The difference in reaction had nothing to do with the execution itself but the timing of it. Those who made their disdain known were those closest to Fovos, and predictably, he was the first person who stood up and began shouting at Ochi. Within seconds, dozens more joined him and stood up shouting at the leader. Within a half-minute, Fovos had persuaded the entire crowd, and they began to rage.
Before joining Ochi at center stage, Father Prodido leaned forward and whispered in Pali’s ear. At once, both Pali and Machi ran down the center aisle and onto the Monon in a full sprint. The religious leader then nodded at a couple of the guards dressed in black who subsequently stood on each side of him and Ochi. Father Prodido stepped forward and raised his hand to silence the boisterous crowd, but they could not be silenced, not even by the hand of the religious leader.
“Brothers and sisters! Please!” Father Prodido shouted. “Please! Quiet! Everyone quiet! Please!”
The religious leader pleaded with the crowd for minutes before they ultimately quieted enough to hear what he had to say.
Still raising his hand in the air, as if he was holding their silence by sheer will, the religious leader began to speak.
“It is apparent the hand of God is truly upon us at this moment,” Father Prodido began. “Not only will justice prevail in Patrida, but we will also ensure our values are maintained, and our future secured. The only way we remain pure as a community is to cleanse ourselves of all unrighteousness. If there are those among us who threaten our beliefs or try to pervert our traditions, we must take a stand. Your Heavenly Father and your Patridian Council both hear your cries to make this land holy once again. Shall we now be the hands, your Excellency?”
Before turning toward Father Prodido, Ochi once again scanned the crowd in vain to locate Thura. He could not find her anywhere. At once, shouts roared the length of the Monon, instantly transforming the quiet of Sanctuary into complete disarray. Pali and Machi tore down the road in wild hysteria and charged the center aisle in unconstrained madness.
Everyone was immediately panic-stricken and terrified by the shocking irrationality of the moment. Fearing for their lives, the crowd stood up and rushed away from the center aisle. No one had ever seen the brothers in such a furor. Even the guards who lined the center aisle believed someone was chasing the brothers and took defensive positions. Not a single person could discern what Pali and Ma
chi were screaming about until they reached the front, and then it became apparent to everyone. The prisoners had escaped.
The woods behind Sanctuary, which had previously given the people of Patrida some sense of security because of the guard outposts, began to hauntingly produce its own shouts and screams. If there had been terror among the people when the brothers ran down the center aisle, it was now exponentially compounded with the sound of people running through the forest and approaching Sanctuary.
Scrambling and haphazardly falling over one another to escape the area, no one really knew what the threat of danger was to them. Women were wailing while grabbing their children. The children were crying in response to their frightened mothers. Fear had been pumped into their minds for so long that their first inclination was an enemy attack.
As the guards and Tyran ran toward the woods to confront the approaching enemy, neither Father Prodido nor Ochi moved an inch from where they had been standing. Both knew there was no threat, nor were they being attacked by anyone. Those who had been shouting from the woods ran out and faced Tyran and his band of shrouded guards. Staring at one another in disbelief, Tyran quickly realized they were not the enemy, only the guards stationed in the wooded outposts.
Amidst the pandemonium and utter disbelief at what had transpired, both Father Prodido and Ochi knew immediately that someone had carefully orchestrated the charade. The only difference between the two men was that Father Prodido had no idea how it happened, while Ochi believed he knew exactly how it happened.
Patrida’s leader instantly took off and ran through the maze of people who had not yet figured out there was no threat. Along the Monon, Ochi ran as fast as he could toward the prisoner’s cell. He desperately wanted to know if the door had been forced open in some way by the prisoners or if someone had unlocked it.
Since he had not been able to find Thura in the crowd, Ochi believed he already knew the answer, but he wanted to make sure. As he approached the open door, it was apparent there was no damage or forced exit. Someone had clearly unlocked it. And he was nearly certain it had been Thura who unlocked it. But there was only one way to find out definitively. Ochi needed to get back to his house to see if his key was missing. Thura should not have known about the box or the key, but he could not imagine this being any more coincidental.
In Sanctuary, everyone had figured out that no enemy was attacking them, but they remained perplexed by all that had happened. Father Prodido, Tyran, and the Patridian guards assembled and subsequently began to walk the length of the Monon toward the jail so they could investigate and make an assessment of how the prisoners had escaped.
Peering around the corner at the other end of the Monon, Ochi could see they were making their way toward him. Determined to avoid a confrontation at all cost, he turned back and ran down the short alley adjacent to the cell. Within a couple of minutes, the entourage, led by Father Prodido and Tyran, turned from the Monon and approached the open cell door. Ochi, sweating profusely from nervousness, his heart palpitating from fear, walked briskly past the gallows and then turned down a side alley running parallel to the Monon on the other side.
Ochi ran as fast as he could down the alleyway toward the backside of his house, where he took a side door to enter. As he ran up the wooden stairs and reached the last few steps, the door was cracked open. He could see light coming from behind it. He was worried Velos was already in the house searching for Thura herself.
Nervously pushing the door open the rest of the way, Ochi walked into the room with cautious feet. Every candle and oil lamp they owned had been lit, illuminating the room. He paused, anticipating Velos in the house. But the only sound was the gentle crack of each candle’s flame.
Ochi called out for both his wife and daughter to no response. Deciding he was in the clear, the leader ran into his room and promptly opened his closet door. As he fell to his knees, Ochi moved everything out of the way and expertly removed the floorboard, which revealed his wooden box below the surface. Opening it, he noticed his commemorative key was indeed missing. In its place, there was a folded piece of paper with his name on it. Ochi carefully put the box down on the floor and removed the letter. With apprehension, he unfolded the note and began to read.
Father,
I guess you figured out I was the one who took your key. I am sure everyone is upset at the moment. At least, that is what I have come to expect from all of you. That is why I took it. There is a sickness in Patrida that has been here since I was young, but I have only recently begun to see it. The other night, after talking to Sophia and your prisoner, whose name is Odigo, by the way, I saw what life could be like, and I really wanted that for myself. But at the same time, I began to see how hopeless and lost Patrida really is and how hopeless and lost you are, as well. You pretend this is the home of freedom, yet you fail to realize you remain its prisoner. You say you fight to protect your values, yet you compromise those values by what you think of others and how you treat them. You try to create virtue by following the rules and by demanding others follow them, yet you have only made compliant people who follow the rules while they die on the inside. I know you can’t see it, but Patrida is in total darkness. As their leader, you are completely responsible. You have been and continue to be the problem. You are the sickness of Patrida.
–Thura
Tears fell from Ochi’s swollen eyes and covered every heartbreaking word he read. He was devastated. A tightness moved from his heart up through his neck. He felt like someone was gently strangling him with no way to stop it. Rather than holding a letter from his daughter, he wished she was with him instead. If only he could explain to her what he had been feeling over the last year. If only he could share with her the regret and pain he had been carrying with him. If only he had not been so fearful, so private, so isolated. If only she knew he was the one standing on the other side of the storage door in the alleyway. If only he had opened it, he could have told her how proud he was of her for being everything he was too afraid to be himself. If only he could tell her what he finally saw in the painting.
Ochi wiped the tears from his cheeks with his shirt and began to fold the letter when he heard footsteps coming from the stairway. The noise stopped as the person reached the top of the stairs, no doubt taking in the fully illuminated room. Ochi closed the cedar box and hastily placed it back in the corner of the closet before anyone saw what he was doing.
“Thura? Are you in here?” Velos called out.
Ochi stood up and began moving about the room to create enough noise not to startle his wife.
“No. It’s me. I’m in the bedroom,” Ochi called out with trepidation.
Walking into the bedroom, Velos stared at her husband with stone-faced suspicion.
“What are you doing?” she interrogated with an irritated intensity.
No matter what Ochi could have told her in response, Velos was not going to believe it. She did not fully understand everything that had been going on with him, but she did know that he had not been honest with her at breakfast. Despite what he had initially told her, Ochi had not been out late with Father Prodido the night before. In fact, and in direct contradiction to what Ochi had previously told her, Tyran told her he had seen his father walking the previous night along the Monon. He told her it appeared as if he was going to the gallows. But to Velos, it was not only the lies. His strange and erratic behavior accompanied his shifting, noncommittal attitude toward the prisoner that made her distrust him. She was beginning to believe he had something to do with the prisoners escaping.
Ochi could tell that no matter his response, he would be walking on thin ice. The best he could do was divert his wife’s attention onto his missing daughter and away from himself.
“Velos, I’m looking desperately for Thura,” Ochi said. “I saw the candles and lanterns burning and noticed the stairway door open, so I thought she was somewhere in the house.”
“Have you checked her room?” Velos asked, unrelenting in her skep
ticism.
A tingling sensation ran up his spine. A million thoughts instantaneously raced through his mind as he tried to merge them into a quick and appropriate response. Ochi anticipated that Father Prodido would demand search parties to retrieve the prisoners. But he had so much at stake with his daughter that he could not risk them apprehending her. With Thura already believing he was the center of Patrida’s problems, she would never forgive him, nor would she ever talk to him again if she thought he had anything to do with bringing her back. He knew there was only one way to answer Velos.
“I’ve looked throughout the entire house, including her room, but can’t find her,” Ochi said with a hint of desperation in his voice. “I believe someone has abducted her, and she may be in danger.”
Velos did not immediately buy his story, but Ochi kept selling it.
“That boy was sent here for a reason, Velos!” Ochi cried out in all the concocted rage he could muster. “Do you not think he hasn’t been calculating this very moment when he would make his move? Do you not think he hasn’t been looking for the perfect person to take with him? So his people can use her as leverage? Are you seriously going to doubt me in this when the life of our daughter could very well be on the line?”
A crack had surfaced in Velos’ disposition, but Ochi’s story was interrupted by the sound of more steps in the stairway. Both Ochi and Velos ran into the main room and saw Father Prodido, Tyran, and Pali standing together.
“The jail door was intact, Ochi,” Father Prodido said. “We could not find any apparent damage to it. It looks as if someone unlocked it.”
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