My Entry: Fly the Cage

Lhasa:  The capital of Tibet.

The visual feast of color, art, richness of the culture and bazaars came to a definitive end - in an instant.

When our eyes locked, I was stopped in my tracks.  He was beautiful, strong, proud and alone. I felt my heart being ripped from me. 

Long after I left the zoo the amber eyes haunted me.  I felt them bore into me with accusation, frustration and total abandonment.  His hopes dashed, daily.

My heart ached and my hands trembled as I walked away.  I’d never been more humiliated as a human being, ever.  What could I do?  I was a stranger in a foreign land.  I had no power.  I had no contacts.  I couldn’t buy the politicians, the bureaucrats, or favor.  I was just a tourist, a nobody. I felt the same helplessness as the wolf enclosed behind the wire cage.

His pain was evident.  His longing crept into my soul the way an addiction crawls under the skin of a drug user.  I couldn’t escape the daggers that penetrated my being or made me feel less than human.

Humans, aren’t we supposed to be the compassionate ones?  Don’t we have a duty to save those who can’t defend themselves?

Approaching the airport for my return stateside, I was full of remorse.  I understood my life was changed forever.  Every fiber and every nerve had been assaulted.  And, not a damn thing I could do about it!

“Why was he caged,” I asked myself.  “What harm had he done?  Was it for his protection or for the protection of society?” the questions lingered as I entered my locator number on the keypad and a boarding pass emerged from slit at the kiosk.

Dragging my bags to the scheduled gate, I felt panic arise.  I told myself, “Calm down, you know there isn’t anything you can do."  At the least, you could get thrown in jail.  The worst….you don’t want to even think about it.

My arm rested on my knee, my chin rested on my hand and the tears welled up again for the umpteenth time.  I’d lost count of the number of times I collapsed into tears.

“Hello, there,” the even, husky voice penetrated my brain.

“What?” I responded as I looked around.

A uniformed, airport security guard loomed before me, “I don’t mean to be rude, but you seem quite depressed.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh shit!” I thought.  I’ll be on a no fly list just for thinking of a way to save the wolf.  “Ah, no, I just feel very drawn to the Tibetan wolf I saw at the zoo.  He seemed to be crying out for help and I felt so helpless,” I responded. I showed the guard the photo.  It’s all I could do. 

“I know this wolf!  I’ve seen him many times at the zoo.  I’ve stopped taking my children there because I feel the same deep injustice you feel,” he replied, shaking his head in sadness.

“Can’t anything be done?” I inquired.

"There is a group that has been appealing to let the wolf go; reassign it into the wilderness but I don’t know what progress they've made."  Chills ran up my spine as he he looked directly at me.  I saw the same haunted look in his eyes that I’d seen in the wolf’s eyes. 

I had no response.  I sat like a maroon, glued to my plastic airport, lounge chair.

The fleeting words of a quote I once read, by Roland S. Barth:  “Fly the Cage,” came back to me.  I said a silent prayer the Universe would right itself.

Weary, defeated and vowing to travel no more, I boarded the plane.

Arriving in NYC, I gathered my baggage and trudged to the island where a limo would whisk me off to my private domain.

“What’s that?” shouted the driver.  “An escape, where?” he continued.  The brakes screeched.  He got out of the car in the middle of traffic and bowed to the earth. 

I thought he was having a religious experience or perhaps part of a militant group.  I opened the door and staggering out, waited for him to help me with my luggage.  I was going to find another ride, STAT!

“Pardon me,” he said.  His eyes had misted over, his smile jubilant.  “I’m sorry for troubling you.  I have been donating money to a website to save the Tibetan wolf and my friend just called me and told me there was a coup.  The wolf escaped the zoo.  They haven’t found him yet and from what I am told, they never will,” he said apologetically.  A glint of joy replaced tears while he danced a little jig.

I hauled my luggage out of the trunk, tipped the guy $100 dollars and walked to the nearest church.

After sometime, a priest came around to chat.  He asked, “Are you okay?  I’ve noticed you have been here for hours.  Do you need a place to stay or some other kind of assistance?”

I looked up blankly and said, “No.  He flew the cage.  My prayers have been answered.”

Puzzled, the priest watched me gather up my things. 

I proceeded outdoors to hail a cab. 

Emotionally restored, I thought of traveling again and wondered what Disney World had to offer.

[WC: 890]