The Great Escape

Rub a dub dub

Three men in a tub

And who do you think they be

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker

They all went out to sea

Let’s say you live in a country called Turkey.  But for our purposes we’ll call it Chicken.

Twenty years ago to the day there was a free and fair election that brought to power a politician you were proud to vote for because he was for the people and you were, let’s face it, people.

You could breathe free for the first time in years as the yoke of the military was finally lifted from around the neck of Chicken.  Your country had gained the respect of the world for at last breaking free of tyranny.

The next election rolled around five years later and why not vote again for the person you were taught to call Dear Leader?  All other candidates faded before the constant presence in billboards and banners of the visage of your Dear Leader. 

Life was good for you at the time. Business was going well.  It was true that Dear Leader, that humble man of the people, had become very rich and so powerful that whoever spoke against him found themselves out of a job or facing charges of—well, whatever.  Because whenever anyone dared to speak out, Dear Leader called “Chicken Little,”and the sky fell upon the opposition.

Fifteen years on it was time for a change.  You weren’t as happy as you once were.  Members of Dear Leader’s party approached your business each month for a donation for the good of the country.  But weren’t you already paying taxes?  And then you needed a monthly permit for your butcher shop, something unheard of before.

Opposition rose against Dear Leader, and you would have joined that opposition but Dear Leader called “Chicken Little” and those who spoke were arrested for treason and thrown in jail.  You were afraid.  Besides, what could one voice do against Dear Leader?   You had to make the best of it, even after your favorite newspaper was closed down and your favorite television station lost its license, its journalists put on trial for sedition.

But life went on.  You could always watch another channel.  Books and magazines began to disappear from the news stands, but you weren’t a great reader anyway.  Besides, you liked the simple pleasures, taking your family to the city square each Saturday, where there were market stalls and buskers and always something lively going on.

But then Dear Leader called Chicken Little on the City Square, saying it was a corrupting influence on his people.  Instead he would build a monument where people could worship the freedom he had given them.  But where was the freedom if you couldn’t even go to the city square on your one day off?

The young people took to the streets.  They wanted the freedom and joy the square provided, not some monument to an ossified government.  The young people were arrested, including your son and the candlestick maker’s daughter.  You went to the authorities, but no one had any record of anyone by your son’s name being held.  So where was he?  Where was she?  This couldn’t be happening in their country where freedom was so cherished.  Could it?

There was a fly over of Dear Leader’s palace, according to the military a normal training exercise, but Dear Leader cried Chicken Little again and all the pilots were arrested, along with the crew members and the mechanics on the ground.  There was a child, who was supposed to present flowers to Dear Leader when he visited the factory the child’s father owned.  Instead of handing the flowers to Dear Leader, the child dropped them and ran.  The factory owner was arrested for disrespecting the state, and the child was sent to an orphanage.

Then you, the butcher, was accused by a member of Dear Leader’s entourage of giving her a piece of meat that held too much fat.  And the baker failed to deliver his quota of bread because the farmers couldn’t deliver the wheat, due to crop failure.

You knew it was only time before Dear Leader’s troops came to your door.  You would end up where your son was, in the land of the disappeared.

What to do?

In the darkest part of your house, the candlestick maker came to you and said he was getting out before he ended up in jail, like so many other family members they knew.  Would the butcher like to join the group already assembling?  If they could make it to the coast, his uncle had a boat that would take them away from Chicken into a life that might be more precarious, but also might be more free.

So leaving behind a son, leaving behind a daughter, one night you, the baker, the candlestick maker and your families stole out of the city and made for the shore.

What awaited you?  You had no idea.  A sea of troubles?  Or a sea of plenty?  But at least you were free, and this time you would pay more attention to freedom’s cost.