The Independence of Santa Anna.

by Dan

His old friend stormed from the room. Dr Lionel Chanderpaul smiled indulgently. Poor old Pepe, always wanting everything now, One if the chief intellectual problems Dr Chanderpaul struggled with was how to harness the hope and energy of people like Pepe. Pepe was loyal, strong as an ox and committed to the people of Santa Anna. But he was so impatient for change. He had worked for Dr Chanderpaul as a labourer, ever since the successful workers strike of 1951 a full nine years before and the two had become friends despite their educational and intellectual differences. The People's Democratic Congress Party, under Dr Chanderpaul's guidance was now approaching the end of their second five year plan. In one year from now Dr Chanderpaul, would walk to the house of the the governer in Princeville and declare independence. This bloodless revolution would pave the way for a socialist collective democracy run by the people for the people, Dr Chanderpaul would, naturally, become First Minister. Planning had reached the stage where Dr Chanderpaul was holed up in his study all day and all night, having his food bought in by Pepe. He hadn't been to Princeville in over a year. It pleased him to think that the next time he did, it would be Independence Day. He just needed to keep the likes of Pepe from following the idiot hotheads of the Freedom Party led by Marcus Blake, a stupid vainglorious man, who Dr Chanderpaul knew would turn his revolution sour in his quest for personal aggrandisement. At ten O’ clock it was time to turn in. He whisked the tune of the new national anthem as he replaced his textbooks upon the shelf and shuffled out onto the Veranda of his colonial former slavers house to lock up. It was then that he noticed that the sky was ablaze, furthermore, silhouetted against the fire upon the hillside in front of him, where the colonial slavemasters had once planted sugar cane was a large group of men marching. As they came closer Dr Chanderpaul noticed that they were carrying bottles of rum and machetes. They were chanting "death to the new slavers!" One carried the vermilion banner of the Santa Anna Freedom Party another carried an image of Marcus Blake in full revolutionary pose. It was still dark in bush between the veranda and the burning flames of Princeville and Dr Chanderpaul could not make out any of the faces of the angry men. He was addressed from the crowd by a voice through a megaphone. "Dr Chanderpaul, we are here to sequester this property in the name of the new revolutionary council of Santa Anna, and our new ruler Comrade Blake. You stand accused of counter revolutionary activity and must now come to Princeville to face trial. We trust that you will come peacefully." The triumphant mob bayed, one or two fired pistols into the sky. Dr Chanderpaul suddenly felt every one of his 67 years, a frightened and frail old man. He had no choice but to step down the veranda and be manhandled by the mob. He reached the man with the man with the megaphone and looked into his eyes. Pepe stared back defiantly, his features hard and his cheeks a mess of tears.

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