Frozen
He looked happy.
Standing alone, waving to whatever visitors happened to come by, the man’s mouth extended in the friendliest, toothy grin one could possibly imagine. One might guess he were the town mayor, and one might be accurate. It made sense that such a blissful smile – the first thing one noticed about him – would adorn the face of the town’s leading citizen.
Of course that theory would quickly be amended to say the man would be a former mayor, or, rather, the likeness of a former mayor, once you observed that the man was frozen solid.
Not ice, but not exactly stone, the man was frozen in space and time, his hand extended in endless generosity, his face a constant yet eery welcome sign.
The young apprentice marveled at the sight. It was just as his master warned him before embarking on this trip: he had never imagined such a thing.
The apprentice hurried along, following his master into the small town. Entering the quaint town square was like walking into a painting by the ancient master Norman Rockwell. The buildings were beautifully kept, with national flags waving out front. Shops were open. People were everywhere: some shopping, some at play, some at work. It was a perfect moment of time, frozen forever.
Frozen, because everyone in the town was frozen.
The apprentice felt an ice chill, looking into the never-moving, vibrant eyes of the towns folk. He tried to get a glimpse into their minds and see what they must have been thinking. Some clearly seemed in a hurry, or on a mission. Perhaps the gentleman checking his watch as he walked into the drug store was getting a prescription for a sick family member. Most seemed more or less content, and many appeared quite happy.
They walked on, and passed through an elementary school. Each class was filled with children, eager young minds all training their eyes on a teacher. Not a one looked away. Not one staring out the window, longing to be outside. Each was focused solely on the lesson the teacher had begun long before, when all became frozen.
"What are they learning?" the apprentice mused.
"The same things their parents learned," his master answered. "And those that came before them."
"And what would that be?"
The master just smiled and moved on.
Exiting the school, they walked through a field toward a lake. They passed a dock where they found some older kids, perhaps in their teens. A car stood nearby, its doors open. The apprentice looked inside. It would seem that music once played from the car stereo while the teens talked. He looked at each of their faces, seeing both resignation and contentment in their eyes.
"What are they doing out here?" the apprentice asked.
"The same thing they do every night," said the master.
"And what’s that?"
The master smiled. "Waiting for their time to come."
"What time?"
The master had already moved on, and his apprentice struggled to keep up. They found another street, and passed by a drink shop. In the window, the apprentice saw a young woman. Before her on the table were two small objects: a cup filled with beverage, and an ancient communicator, what was once called a cellular telephone. Her eyes seemed transfixed on the device, which led to another question.
"Why is she staring at that communicator?"
The master looked on the young woman with pity. "She is waiting for him to call," he answered.
"Will he call?"
The master didn’t say a word, but led on.
They passed a church, where a young couple piled into an automobile. The woman was dressed in solid white from head to toe, while the young man, helping her into the vehicle, looked dashing in a black suit. A host of others stood on the steps, each wearing a joyous smile as they watched the couple load into the vehicle.
The apprentice walked around the vehicle to get a closer look at the couple. The young man was practically beaming. But the young woman… there was something sad in her eyes. A sense of loss, of surrender. It troubled him greatly.
"What’s all this?" The apprentice asked. "What is the young couple doing?"
"Just what is expected of them," said the master.
"Did they want to do it?" he asked.
"They didn’t want to not do it," the master answered.
On an on, they found more scenes. Couples with babies, children, then teenagers. Men and women going to work. Men and women cashing paychecks at the bank. Each person contented and smiling. With each smile the apprentice logged, his sense of dread about this place grew. Something ominous was here. Just what had caused this entire town to fall prey to paralysis?
"Do you think these people are happy?" The apprentice noticed his master led him back to the beginning, beside the smiling mayor.
"They appear to be," said the apprentice. "But I don’t understand how."
The master smiled. "They chose to be happy."
The answer alarmed the apprentice. "They… they chose this?"
"Oh yes," said the master. "Generation after generation growing up in this town, living the same lives on the same streets, following the same pattern. They are born, educated, they fool around, they marry, and reproduce. The cycle continues, and from one generation to the next—" he gestured to the frozen man beside him. "Only the names change."
The apprentice took in the words. Then another question. "Why did you bring me here?"
"This is what happens when people stop asking questions. When they refuse to challenge themselves, and accept a destiny that was pre-destined for them."
The apprentice swallowed hard. "You’re saying these people had no dreams?"
"Sure they did," the master answered. "Growing up, they listened to fairy tales and watched stories of great people doing great things. Not a one of them didn’t dream about being a cowboy, or an adventurer, or something greater than this town."
"So why did they become frozen?"
The master’s face sunk in sadness. "Because they did as they were told."
"Was there no hope for them?"
"Certainly there was," the master said, "But you have to understand, everything worked against them. Families discouraged them. Teachers discouraged them. Words like ‘sacrifice’ frightened them into stagnation. One by one they began to lay down their imaginations before the altar of conformity. Then it became a simple matter of peer pressure."
The apprentice turned his eyes to the frozen face of the mayor, a face that filled him with horror. He reached out and touched the cold statue.
"If we stop dreaming," said the master, "We become like them and fall asleep."
The apprentice nodded. "And if we continue dreaming?"
The master smiled, "We might just wake a few of them up."
Copyright 2006 by John Cosper