After 27 years, Aloysius is finally returning home. For 22 of those years, all he could do was stare at the sky - his own personal sky. "Fly away? escape?" many had said, but all Aloysius could do was alternate his gaze between his clipped wings and the unreachable sky.
Just yesterday, a policeman asked, "Do you want to buy anything for your family?"
Aloysius merely smiled and shook his head. The policeman found it odd. Someone returning home after a quarter of a century had no wish to take anything back? All the other prisoners had provided their lists - little errands to be run with the small sums of money they'd saved over time, along with funds collected by relatives and friends. Aloysius, however, needed nothing. Many of his friends hadn't seen him in 22 years, yet they showered him with farewell gifts, as though to add some warmth to the moment of parting. He accepted their tokens but handed them over to the authorities on his way to his cell, wishing that another freed prisoner could make use of them instead. He also told the officers that he didn't need any material possessions for his journey home; his heart was full from the affection and respect he had received from them.
In the police van, Aloysius shared his ride with six others. One of them had traveled with him to India. Three were Pakistanis, and the others were from Somalia and Egypt. They were all younger than Aloysius and had their hands chained together, one man's right hand linked to another's left. Though not particularly close, they'd developed some temporary understandings, born of their shared fate. Aloysius alone was without handcuffs. His age and good behavior during his time in prison had earned him this privilege. He had even taught English classes to his fellow inmates, and they, in turn, expressed their gratitude, unaffected by national borders. The guards too, after the initial harshness of the early days, began treating him with kindness. They understood that many of the economic criminals among them were not guilty beyond redemption, that perhaps the doors to their freedom had been unjustly locked.
At the airport, a representative from the Indian embassy came to see Aloysius off, along with Bashir and Suhra. They were the only ones who had never questioned him, and so, Aloysius had told them everything.
The embassy official asked, "Aren't you thrilled to see your family after two decades?"
Aloysius smiled, but only to hide the fact that the question didn't stir any emotions in him.
Half of his life was already behind him. No matter how hard he tried, the remainder kept threatening to pounce on him like a wild beast, rushing from the darkness, trampling, biting, drinking his blood to quench its thirst - then retreating, leaving just enough life in him to be savored the next time. He had often wished that, during one of those attacks, the creature would drain away the last of his anguish.
The official handed him a business card.
"Keep this with you, Aloysius. If you need any help at any time, don't hesitate to call me up."
Aloysius thanked him and thought back: after the first few days, everyone had treated him well. Maybe, they all saw him as a scapegoat.
The early interrogations in the dark room weren't as brutal as he'd expected, but mentally, they isolated him on an island. Early on, Aloysius had admitted to the investigation officer:
"Sir? I don't deny my guilt. I admit my carelessness, and I'm not hiding. I alone am responsible for the company's losses. I have no co-conspirators to offer. If I were to name others now, I have no proof against them. I'm just a shield trying to protect a few from sinking. They'll all point fingers at me."
The officer asked, "Where is the written permission for what you did? Who authorized you to speculate like this?"
Aloysius responded, "You're right. I don't have anything in writing. All I had were verbal approvals. In times of profit, they all carried me on their shoulders. But when the winds changed, they looked to each other for answers that couldn't be found."
The investigator persisted, "I don't get it. You're a financial expert, so why did you act on your own fantasies? This means you bypassed company rules."
"Yes, sir. I admit it. I can't escape from this. I'm fully responsible for the huge loss. Even though I had verbal permission, I didn't get it in writing. There's nothing more I can say. I have no tools left to defend myself."
With those admissions, the case against Aloysius was sealed.
Gross negligence! The accused has admitted guilt.
Some senior managers could have been implicated too, but Aloysius bore the blame alone. His mistake had been not putting things in writing. In this modern world, responsibilities and instructions must be clearly documented. As the company's profit charts soared, so did the standards of living of those in charge - luxurious homes, fuel-guzzling cars, exotic vacations, and hefty bonuses. No one wanted to descend from their high towers when the storm hit. They merely issued orders from above.
Aloysius, sinking into silence, felt the weight of invisible feet trampling him into the mire. He prayed silently: "Lord, I have to return what I didn't steal. Please, if nothing else, don't abandon me. Lift me up from these depths."
When the storm started, everyone else flew away. But here I am, unable to spread my wings, spinning in confusion.
Every step in life's journey needs careful consideration. Personal and professional lives are distinct paths, and each requires its own clarity and plan. Without clear directions, veering off course is inevitable. No matter how cautious, it's become impossible to salvage the situation.
Aloysius recalled Woody Allen's words: "In my next life, I want to start at the end, with death. Then, gradually walk back through life, ending as a newborn baby."
Aloysius smiled at the absurdity of it all. But Woody had warned: "Don't laugh. Just tell your plans to God; He's the one who'll laugh."
And so, in his waking and sleeping moments, Aloysius continued to drift through his endless sky.
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