God Was Busy

Chapter 8

Gray light leaked through the curtains when the singing roused me. I hear Aoife's voice, from behind the door, calling me to wake up

"Up, up, .... rise and shine,"

I try to imagine what it must be like inside that woman's head. What thoughts filled her waking hours? What dreams come to her at night? I have no idea. I put the chiton back on since it was not really dirty, just slightly crumpled from spending the night on the floor. It doesn't matter- we will have to work anyway.

Some girls greeted me at the breakfast. I didn't know all their names, but I greeted back and smiled at them. All in all, I felt a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel as a slave. More relaxed than I had ever expected to feel here in the palace. ...

Although I could see fear in their eyes but they seemed happy. Everyone seems to know what to do and they did it on time.

Master Hermes showed up when breakfast was already served. he was clean and groomed and most importantly sober. He doesn't refuse the offer of wine, but when he saw Aoife his mouth twitched into a smile. She returned the smile with equal sincerity.

"We have to take care of this girl here," Aoife pointed towards me.

"Oh right, the new girl" He looked at me with obvious curiosity" stand up," he ordered, and I felt embarrassed. But did as I was told.

He walked around my body, not touching me, but taking in every inch of it with his eyes. I resist the impulse to face him.

"So slender, what is she of use to us?" he said after his thorough examination.

"Oh, come on honey can't you fit in a small girl?" Aoife winked.

"let's put her in your place in the garden so you'll have some time to spare," he eyed her as a Hunter would look at its prey.

The Gardner was complaining he needed someone to clean his garden.

"Whatever you say, milord," I could see master Hermes's facial expressions changing. Then he took out keys from a bunch of keys that hung from his cinctures.

"Send her to the Hellenistic gardens, and come back to me," he said as he turned towards Aoife and gave her the key.

"And listen," he said again "you know how much I hate waiting"

"I will be back as soon as I can," Aoife smiled a broad smile and started walking and I followed,

"As I told you before," she said as soon as we were alone again, you are luckier than most, you get to work in the garden, no one will bother you there, all you have to do is to clean that place and water the plants," I took huge steps to keep up with her.

She paused and took out keys to open the gates of the garden, "try to stay away from the west wing of the palace, just stay in the gardens during the day and eat dinner at night in the kitchen, then go to your room, understand?"

I nodded in affirmation. Then she turned the key and opened the gate.

This garden was like the description of heaven my father used to read to me, with beds of rhododendrons near the wall and potted trees in a Mozak, beautiful fountains, and singing birds. a dome in the further corner. right next to the gushing sea where the water I know has been to the meadow — to my house. But the tree I liked was a huge fig tree that had branches spread like embracing arms.

"Just remember, these gardens are only for the personal use of the Royal family, they visit this place when they need fresh air, and no one else is supposed to be here," said Aoife "and make sure it stays that way,"

"Please don't leave me alone here,'' I looked around at the endless empty space covered in flowers and trees.

"I have to get back to work," she smiled at me expectantly. "No one comes here, besides, the Royals are always followed by men, other than them if you saw anyone kick them out," she said and walked back out.

I smiled. It was a relief to work in solitude, so there was my duty laid out in front of me, as simple and clear as a bowl of water: I have to do everything they say to go back to my family, I just focused on that.

I did as I was told, it didn't take me long to gather the leaves in a handwoven basket, the serenity of this place was taking me to my childhood.

I sat on the wooden bench and shut my eyes and forced myself back to the happy times I was in Macedonia. A bright light shone orange on my closed lids stained here and there with drifting bands of purple. I could hear my father laughing and calling my name, louder and clearer. Running after me, trying to catch me. But I was faster than him, I ran through the small garden gates, I ran towards the busy streets, women washing clothes at the well, farmers unloading fruit and vegetables onto the market stalls.