The Prodigal Son (An Old Tale Revisited)

When the prodigal son returned home, his father, all forgiveness and delight, announced a party at once. And at once he set to work. Even the most distant relative was summoned, and people nearby, even strangers just passing through this vicinity of joy, were invited. All of them crowded around the boy, jostling for the best place, breathing the available air, leaving him gasping, unable to respond to their blandishments. He broke free, when he father was occupied elsewhere, found an empty spot on the second level, a few inches of silence, and settled in. He was drinking too much wine, gulping down glass after glass, as servants dutifully responded. Below, he saw his father in the middle of a pack of servants, some carrying wine flasks, others trays of food. His father was giving expert directions, pointing here and there, even waving up to his eldest son.The boy was shocked. How could he possibly find me? he wondered. Then, he saw his three younger brothers warily staring up at him, making no effort to turn their sneers into smiles. Abruptly, they vanished into the huge banquet hall... Around midnight, sated with wine and people, the honored guest slipped away, avoiding eye contact, and walked down an immense hallway which connected this southern wing with the two northern wings of his father's sprawling mansion. 'All this is yours, my dear son, ' his father had smiled the day before his first escape attempt. He had reached the fortified border center before the strings that bound him to his family, stretched taut, suddenly snapped him back. He was walking slowly, drunkenly, down the empty corridor, until he reached an immense stone chair. He climbed awkwardly to the seat, and sprawled in its excess space. The stone chair was a relic of an earlier age when men were still giants. Legendary warriors, they wore no armor, they carried no weapons. They wrestled their way to dominion but no one stayed on top for long. There were always new wrestling matches, with challengers gloating, there were new conquests to make, new widows go pursue - He awoke suddenly, after several hours of drunken sleep. Clearly, cutting through his stupor, the Dream had spoken to him, and It would guide his third escape. He bolted from the giant's chair, and ran down the hollow corridor, echoes of his haste bombarding the silent walls. His father, his younger brothers, the courtiers would all be in deep sleep, having been guided to their chambers by sober servants. It was not difficult to get some of them to prepare a horse and supplies for him. He followed the curving, upward slope of the road to an elevation, where he paused but did not dismount. The impatience of escape thoroughly possessed him. Looking down on his father's opulent mansion, the one promised him again and again, he was puzzled. This is not my home... Even his thoughts were very quiet. He shook his body, regaining alertness. Let my brothers wrestle for it! My home is elsewhere. 'Good-bye, my dear father, ' he spoke softly in the still morning air one last time. 'You tried to give me everything, but it was all just chains and locks! All I want, all I need is to breathe ample air freely.' At his signal, the horse began to gallop down the road, which widened with every passing mile.