God Was Busy

Chapter 7

It was not the patio kitchen like my house or the houses I have seen. It was a separate room bigger than my house combined with the neighboring houses, hundreds of men working at the same time, and lots of food.

I was made to sit next to an old woman. Every servant was sitting in front of their platter. I saw Damon smile as he saw me while he took the platters from the fat cook and placed them in front of the servants. A carrot stew, green salad, mashed potatoes, cheese, and a white mush. Throughout the meal, Aoife kept talking about ways to please people of high authority, those who talk directly to Gods which I was unable to concentrate on because I had never seen food like this, so good and so much.

We ate in silence, I looked at the woman and I could tell by the way the sauce ran down her chin that either she was very hungry or her dish pleased her.

"At least, you have decent manners," Aoife said, as I was about to finish. "Most people here eat like a savage." the old woman paled knowing the comment was directed at her.

I can guess the people who are here are workers, who'd never, in their lives, had enough to eat. And when they did, manners were surely the last thing on their minds.

I had enough and after this comment, I made a point of eating the rest of my platter with my fingers. Well aware of everyone staring in our direction This makes her purse her lips tightly together.

"Look around,'' Aoife said. I looked around and there were many girls wearing the same maple leaf tiara as myself, some laughing, some just eating. All of them had tired eyes.

"Most of them have always been slaves, they are genuinely indifferent. this is the only life they knew," she paused "But then there are those who are like you, who had lived a free life who had enjoyed security and status" she sighed and took a deep breath then said "it will be better if you accept this as your fate,"

I looked into her eyes. It was written therein capital letters that she had a more privileged life than me once. I wondered how she ended up here. To the awkwardness of the situation, I started to chew.

"Some managed to convince themselves that things will change, but they never do," she forced a smile.

I can tell by the way the girls talk to Aoife she was quite liked by most of them. I liked her too and, she hasn't disappointed me yet.

Keeping my face carefully expressionless, I nodded. It was when I left the kitchen that I realized how dark it was.

After the meal was over, I fought to keep the food down. As my stomach wasn't used to such rich fare. But if I can hold down so many worst meals, I was determined to hang on to this.

Then she took me to a narrow pass way, hundreds of doors on each side, these were probably the rooms reserved for the slaves, still more spacious than the one I have back home. It only had a bed and a chest of drawers.

"You stay here for the night, let master Hermes decide what to do with you,".

"Goodnight," she said as she closed the door, taking the torch with her, leaving me in the dark. But after a while, as my eyes became accustomed to the dark, there was just enough moonlight slanting in through cracks in the windows to let me see the room.

Imagining my home makes my heart ache with loneliness. This day has been endless. Could I be able to talk to my family only this morning? It seems like a lifetime ago. Like a beautiful dream that deteriorated into a nightmare. Maybe, if I go to sleep, I will wake up back in my house, where I belong.

I strip off my Chiton as I lay on the old but embroidered bedspreads that were soft, thick, and fluffy, which comforted me and presented me with immediate warmth. I thought about the people in their houses, settling onto their beds. I imagined my home. What were they doing now, my mother and Marcus? Were they able to eat the bread that I told my mother to give him?

Finally, it was time to cry. By morning, I will be able to wash the damage done by the tears on my face. But no tears came. I was too tired or too numb to cry. The only thing I felt was a desire to be with someone I know.

I heard the thunder; the sky must be crying. It must be raining on the olive tree—my favorite place, a tree that knows all my worries more than any human being. a tree with spreading branches that gives shade on even the hottest day. And olives when we had nothing else to eat, I used to sit there in the evenings, listening to my neighbor's music. The sound of flutes, lyres, and Aulos would drift out on the night air and all the cares of the day would wash away from me. I was there now, craning my neck to look up at the tree, seeing the moon caught like a glinting silverfish in the black net of its branches.