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Don’t sleep at night! You’ll never know what might happen if you close your eyes.
“Mr.Hugo has disappeared!” Screamed someone.
Yes you could lose anything upon waking. Food stolen by rats, your partner taken by someone else. This isn’t quite the same. This is about Hugo, the one worshipped by his people. Many would cry, as far as the eye could see.
Let me tell you how he became so renowned. He was once just a stranger who suddenly appeared. One dawn, before the world was noisy, he was simply there. With wounds on his legs, his head, all over his body.
It didn’t take long for everyone to be charmed by his kindness. If someone was sad, he comforted. If there was a quarrel, he mediated. If nothing was happening, he’d crack jokes to fill the village with laughter. Because of this, he was not only loved, he became revered. Hugo’s voice moved his people.
The Chief, who used to grumble about his threatened authority, quietly drew closer. Of course, he never expected that this troublesome Hugo would start to steal the popularity he never had. That Hugo lived simply, spoke softly, taught civility. If there was one thing Hugo didn’t have, it was the authority to make absolute rules.
After some time lost in their grief, the villagers remembered Chickgo, Hugo’s adopted child. Chickgo was an orphan found by Hugo just as he himself had been discovered at the edge of sleep.
Chickgo sat huddled and sobbing in the corner.
“Life must go on, my child Chickgo,” every mouth evolved to mimic Hugo’s wisdom.
Another silent dawn, the first pair of waking eyes sounded the alarm again. Just as he had vanished, Hugo suddenly returned. He stood tall and strong. Not a trace of a wound or stain. Those who realized he was back embraced him with longing. Some wept, overwhelmed. All rejoiced, except one who was gone and unnoticed.
With reverent eyes demanding answers, Hugo climbed the podium with a sacred, magical aura. “I have come to be your messenger.”
Every eye looked at each other, the same questioning expression, trying to understand.
“One night the Chief and I were kidnapped, but he was not lucky.”
As far as the eye could see, the Chief was nowhere to be found. Only now did they realize, the Chief had vanished.
“I could only bring back his body,” Hugo said, weeping. “At the end of his life, he entrusted you all to me.”
Days passed into weeks. Grief, real or just for show, replaced by joy faces. Euphoria. The grandest celebration ever was held to welcome the new leader.
Weeks blended into months. Hugo replaced all the village officials, as new leaders born from regime changes do. With noble intentions, a leader should be surrounded only by those who understand his vision.
Before a hundred days had passed, the new Leader began drafting plans for the public good. To that end, taxes had to be increased. Everyone cheered. The Leader was smart, fit to lead. With his progressive thinking, he later revoked some subsidies, so the village treasury would grow and could be used for everyone’s welfare.
Over time, you realized the Leader’s programs grew stranger. But wait, he’s one of us, for us. If you don’t understand his intentions, it’s about yourselves.
But life got harder. Even as the Leader kept urging everyone on: “Think about what you should give, not what you want to get!”
Secretly, his former admirers began to whisper behind your back. Life didn’t feel easy like before. Their simple minds dared to question: what really caused the Chief’s death?
And suddenly you saw Chickgo, now tall and proud, standing on Hugo’s grand podium when you opened your eyes. “He’s dead!” he cried. “He’s the one who stole our trust.”
Everyone stared at each other. It wasn’t about who had died. Trust. So that’s the name of what’s been missing? Could what’s lost ever return?
Where did it go, does anyone know?
Chickgo kept talking, but it felt easier to just be a free creature, clucking and crowing as before.
Written by Hiday Nur
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