Under difficult times, people ruled by dictators and oppressed by despots have often resorted to acts of great self-sacrifice and bravery. Unfortunately, this is not a story like that, this is not the tale of how brave I was in a particular situation or how I struggled in freedom’s name…no, this is the story of my own cowardice in a time, not long ago. This is a story about how I shrank from my duty in a place not very far from where you are sitting in comfort reading these words.

The revolutionaries took power in my world and a man rose to the top of the government; who was young, vibrant, charismatic…with a beard that seemed different, new and socially refreshing. It was almost like Manuel Chavez was picked out of a crowd of actors at Central Casting in Hollywood. The only problems were that Mr. Chavez wasn’t an actor, there was no Central Casting...and this wasn’t Hollywood!

Maybe Manny started off as a good guy, a man with good intentions, but after a year-and-a-half, the county’s economy was crushed, families lost homes, businesses closed or moved to another country, people were routinely shot, killed, tortured…and…and, my God, I can’t even believe what I am saying…people were routinely shot, killed and tortured. It’s as if this isn’t life, this wasn’t real; just a bad dream, a very bad dream!

Several years of his rule had crippled us, left us isolated and censorship of the press eventually had us all ignorant of what was going on in the rest of the world. Eventually, I guess that you get used to anything, even being in a terrible prison, even when your whole country is in a prison. I was no less, or no more that anyone else, I guess.

Our world had become gray and lifeless, just the routine of going to work and hiding your feelings and thoughts so deep in your mind…hiding your own self so far down, that eventually you just lost track of yourself and became another cog in the wheel of the state, another slave to the powers that be. Maybe the people, the hundreds, thousands, the countless people in the state prisons actually had an advantage. With nothing left to lose, maybe they kept their own thoughts and dreams. Maybe they were more free than the rest of us…at least in their minds.

The only exciting thing we had coming up was the election the state called for to make the world think we were different, we were free, to make some more propaganda for Manuel Chavez and his regime. Sure it was fixed, sure there was no real competition, sure nothing would change…but it was a wonderfully staged event and Manny’s people made some great speeches for his opponent to read and fool the world into thinking that there was some movement here. It was good for business, good for the state, it was good for the business of the state.

Me? I was just a worker…nothing exciting, just a worker in an office and what I did was really not important. My cowardice? I lived as a coward each and every day my friend…just as a lot of people do in my situation. Yet the day before the election, I guess that’s the story you beg to read, the event that you want to know about.

I was, as I often did, sitting at my gray desk and pretending to review a file but really just looking at a blank spot between the lines of text, staring off into nothing in the dreary, monotonous silence that always blanketed my workspace. I don’t really know how long I had been sitting there.

POW!!! The door leading into our common work area slammed open and a policeman just seemed to appear. I knew, we all knew that this was bad news. You could always tell the police though he didn’t wear a uniform, his black suit, his demeanor and military bearing all shouted to everyone: ‘COP.’

The nameless policeman didn’t stop, didn’t ask, he just walked over to my friend Art. There was no warrant, no order, not even a piece of paper…still, he grabbed Art and walked him out of our office down the hall and into a bathroom. POW!!! The door leading into our common work area slammed closed and I let out a silent sigh or relief. No-one moved to help, not even me. We all just kept staring at the blank spaces between the lines in files that we were ‘working’ on. This was my first act of cowardice.

In a place like this, a country under oppression, you don’t allow yourself to move to help a friend or even to think about it. Art didn’t make a plea for help, he didn’t even look around at us, because in a place like this, even he knew. It was useless.

Already buried deep in my mind, where you put all your disturbing thoughts so they won’t bother you, I started to forget my friend…and if not for the screams from down the hall, I would have been successful. The policeman was already questioning Art, that much was obvious. Turning a deaf ear, I stopped staring at nothing and got up to go to the bathroom.

Timidly, I walked towards to the door, opening it and stepped out into the hallway. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’; the screams got louder: ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ I could tell that the policeman was really getting into his work. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ I couldn’t understand why Art wasn’t cooperating, but it wasn’t my place to think about such things. With my head down, I looked at the shiny floor and tried not to listen as I walked down the hall, towards the bathroom and the noise. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ This was really my secondary act of cowardice.

‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ I opened the door and stepped into the bathroom, wishing I wasn’t there, but I had no choice because my kidneys were about to explode! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ At the far end, for an inexcusable second, I accidentally saw the policeman’s shiny shoes with Art’s feet facing his. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ They were in the last stall, it appeared that my friend was sitting on the toilet while the policeman stood above and questioned him. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’

I am a man with feelings and emotions and I wanted to flee, I almost wanted to help, but I still needed to pee! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ Normally, I would have left, but the urge to go was too strong and I stood up to the urinal, shaking in fear and I finally relieved myself! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ I tried not to listen, not to hear…but there was something electric sounding, something like a spark. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ There was something like a loud slap, a hard punch, then another strange sound and another scream! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’

I didn’t hear any questions. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ Maybe the policeman whispered! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ Maybe Art really did something! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ I zipped-up my pants and rinsed off my hands. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ I I stepped out the door and closed it. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ This was my third act of cowardice, as a good man, an innocent man suffered because no-one would help. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’

I looked up the hall, along the shiny floor towards the door that would lead me into my office where I sat and looked between the lines of documents that no longer mattered to anyone. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ That was it, that was when something snapped and I did something stupid! ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ POW!!! The door swung open without much effort!

POW!!! The stall door flew open and hit a startled policeman! POW!!! Somehow I got Art out of the stall, ripped open the policeman’s black jacket and ripped his shirt. Handcuffs fell from his pocket to the floor and I locked him to the toilet! There was some box, a little box with wires and clips…the villain's eyes opened wide in fear and the clips snapped in place on his nipples. POW!!! POW!!! POW!!! In a rage, I have no idea how many times I hit him. ‘Zap’; the electrical shock tore through his body from the little box. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’

I carried Art, my friend out of the bathroom and the door slammed shut behind us. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ We walked away from the policeman and two, three, four…finally everyone came out from their ‘work’ to help us escape. ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ That was the day that I gave up being a coward. That was the last time I saw Art and that terrible policeman.

The election came and went and as planned, Manuel Chavez is still the president, he is still a dictator. But now, defiantly, I and many other former ‘cowards’ are in the jungle. One-by-one, we capture his men and it is said that he does not have long to rule. Sometimes, even in the Capitol…if you listen closely you can hear what we have come to call his song, the song of a crumbling regime as his men scream out in pain: ‘Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!’ This is my story, the story of a man pushed too far, a true revolutionary, the story of Sub-Comandante Fernando.

Created: April 13, 2001r.
Last Updated: May 23, 2005r.