A young man moved slowly through the bush both trying to keep his footing and hear the voices of those he was trying to reach. From the hill he had seen a group of people huddled around a small fire. They looked lost and ragged. Some even had visible injuries roughly bandaged and then ignored. Others were bound with rope and still others with wire. Those that were free of the ropes and wire walked amongst those who were not, but never offered freedom.

"What a strange group," the young man thought. "What are they up to and why are they there?" From the hill it was clear that there was a need to do something but just what he did not know. "I must get closer." So the young man began his descent.

The bush was thick and the young man would have lost his way many times except for the voices. As it was he had to stop periodically to recapture a sense of direction.

The bush grew even thicker as the young man drew near, but the voices were louder now which helped a great deal. The tone of the voices changed, however, and he wondered about it. There were laughter and much enthusiastic talk. It was easy now to find his way. There was even a path that appeared to be well trodden. Many people had obviously come this way. But why had none offered help to this little group?

The path dropped into a small ravine and there he saw them. Was this the same group he had seen from the hill? What the young man thought were roughly bandaged injuries turned out to be designer clothes. The ropes and wires that bound some of the group were really comfortable chairs. The small fire turned out to be a barbeque loaded with foods of all kinds.

"Hello," the young man called. "How are you doing?"

The crowd looked up. "Great man! Pull up a chair and join the party."

The young man hesitated. "Looks cool," he called back. "Maybe I'll just watch for a while."

"Suit yourself," the crowd answered. "But you are missing out on all the fun. You have to join in to be cool. Come get to know us. Let go a little. Come on down."

The young man began to feel lonely on the ridge by himself. Looking around he realized that he was plainly visible and the object of everyone's attention. They pretended to mock him for standing off. But the young man was not sure they were pretending. Beginning to feel uneasy he wished he could be part of the group.

Decision made, the young man slowly descended the slope to the wild cheers of the crowd. He was welcomed into their midst with handshakes, hugs and a large mug of beer. The young man took the beer and high-fived everyone around. No longer was he alone. He was welcomed and accepted. It was a good feeling. He chugged the beer to the great delight of all around.

The beer turned bitter in his mouth. He opened his eyes. The little group he first was from the hill was before him The wounds were real. They were the battle scars of life's failures patched up as best they could be patched. The rope and wires reappeared as alcohol and drugs binding their victims in their place.

The young man gasped and stepped back. "What happened?" he shouted. The group sadly turned away. "Stop! Stop! Tell me what happened." One weak voice choked out an answer. "We needed a leader, you ... you are just one of us."