Javanese Shadow Puppet

I am dragged from my shelf. Another day, another show. I am held in front of a gleaming light. A blinding yet fascinating source of energy hits my cold metallic body. My masters use my shadow as a tool. I feel a tug on my left arm and I know this is the start of my show. I am pulled and tugged against my will: my bones and muscles being moved without me having to think. Like a reflex; against my own will. I am moved to the sound of wooden instruments. A traditional and religious tune is played. Its melody sings and moves through the warm Java night.

No one can see me or my beautiful metallic array of colours. It is as if it does not matter for the people to see my outer beauty. My pride is of me and yet it is hidden and only my shadow is to see. My old black shadow. Like Peter Pan, my shadow has a mind and body of its own. But, really, I can’t call it mine. I have no control over it. Only my master does and he does not know the way I feel. As if purposely hiding my beautiful colours, he uses the shadow to do his bidding. I wish one day to be free. I wish one day the world could see my beautiful body. Maybe…

When the show ends my body is hot. I am cooking from the amount of heat I have absorbed from the light. My master goes on stage, along with the others’ masters and bows. We can see the audience thanking them for the performance. I never get any recognition for my work. I seem worthless. Like any other show day, I am taken back to my room, where I am cleaned and placed for keeping along with the others. I don't usually talk to the others, as I am the only one with colour. The rest are all black and white; plain in my opinion. They always make fun of me. Calling me names because of my colour. But, to my surprise, I am not taken to my usual room. Today I am taken towards a box. I am hoping they don't put me in the box. They should not put a puppet of my beauty in a plain, blank box. A box with no emotion, it makes you sad. But, alas, they do and after a few minutes I am in the box. I am sealed away from the outside world. Just me and my feelings, left to talk. Left to wonder. Left alone.

After an ungodly time, the box I am trapped in starts to move. I can't feel much of it because of the wrap I am in, but I can still feel the movement. Then it hits me - this was the same way my parents left. I was only young, but I can remember it like yesterday. At the end of one of the shows my parents were dragged into separate boxes. Then the boxes were taken away, both going out of the same door. I only hope they are together. I was only young, so I have learnt to live without them. But they could not be without each other. I hope for them that they are still together, wherever that might be. After my parents left, they found some other puppets to take their place. They are fine, but not as good as my parents. But if my parents got a replacement then won't I? No, I can’t be replaced. I am too beautiful, truly unique and amazing. But that’s not what I am known for, is it? No, I am known only for my blank plain shadow. A shadow controlled by my master. Is he still my master? A shadow can be replaced. So I too can be replaced. 

No, this can’t be true. I am the best at being me and no puppet can replace me.  I can’t believe my master did this to me. The one who took care of me. The one who, dare I say, loved me? Can't be. It’s not right. Maybe it was the other puppets who talked it into my master. I never liked the other puppets. It just infuriates me that the only one I had after my parents left has just left me in the dark, inside a dark plain box.

How am I supposed to continue with my life? The only thing I can do is be a puppet. I was made to do this. My master forged me into who I am today because of his needs. If it was not for him, I would be no one. I would be the one nobody liked. The one the others ran from. No, that’s not right. I already am that. Did my master do this on purpose? I guess I will never know. 

The rest of my journey is all blank. I don't remember a thing. I think my emotions got so deep I wanted to forget them all. Is that wrong? Wanting to forget something the only one you trusted made you into? I guess it is defining yourself: I need to become the puppet I want to be and not the one I am.

That’s when the box stopped moving. I was surprised at first. The memory of being still comes back. I wonder why I stopped moving. Did I reach the end of my journey? I can’t tell. Then suddenly a bright light appears. I am blinded like I am before shows. But this time it is not a show. I realize I have come to the end of my journey. I try and move myself. Surprisingly, I move. My own will makes me move. I am overjoyed. My dream came true! Now that I can move everyone can see my colours - and for the first time in my life. This light has brought me hope and happiness. I can now choose the path I take. I am now free.

by Caio Goodman