Part of this story comes from the thoughts I had during a sleep-wake state earlier this week ...
In the center of town there was a statue of my father, staring into the sky. I passed this statue everyday on my way to work. Sometimes I went there to pass the time, wondering what my father was looking at in the sky. The whole town loved this statue. Town meetings were held in front of it. When distinguished visitors came to the town, they were first taken to the statue. People got married there. Some people never left the vicinity of it.
But one day the statue disappeared. There was an uproar in town. Houses were searched. People were thrown in jail, including my father. It seemed like the whole town went crazy. Despite those efforts, though, the statue was never found.
After a few years, the government finally gave up its search efforts, and my father was released. He went right back to work. I waited a few days before going to see him.
"What did they do to you?" I asked, upon seeing my father for the first time since he was released.
"I didn't say a word," he explained. "Not a word."
"So you know what happened to the statue?"
"No," he said, "but I have a pretty good idea."
That night I dreamed that the town voted to put a statue of me up to replace the one of my father in the center of town. After it was erected, it took a few days, but the people began to appreciate it just as much as my father's statue. And over time, everyone even forgot about my father. But then one day that statue disappeared, as well.
"Do you have any idea what happened?" the mayor asked.
I said no. I gave the same response to everyone, and, I, too, was thrown in jail. After a few years, I was released, and my father came to visit me.
"Do you understand now?" he asked.
I shook my head.
His eyes widened. "You don't know what happened to the statues?"
I said nothing. Nothing at all.
