The African trinkets

Thirteen thirty-five

*A picture of Mrs. Tate played by Rachel Weisz*

Thirteen thirty-five by Dillon

Strongest taste

loudest drop

head is filled

the thought, unlocked

you'd be thirteen

i'd be thirty-five

gone to find a place for us to hide

be together but alone

as the need for it has grown

a cave or a shed

a car or a bed

a hole in the ground

or a burial mound

a bush or a tree

or the aegean sea will do for me

for you i found a vent

in the bottom of a coal mine

just enough space for your hands in the inside

if you go

do let me know

a den or a dessert

perhaps an ink squirt

a cellar, a wishing well, a war

or a guarantee will do for me

for you i found a cell

on the top floor of a prison

just enough space for you to fit your feet in

if you go

please let me know

Maarintjie had been chained to the inside of the servant kitchen door while the other servants ate as was the instruction of Mrs. Tate. Rosie was responsible for Maarintjie during meal times because Maarintjie had the habit of trying to run away at any chance she got but Rosie, for the life of her, couldn’t understand why a child no older than 14 had to be watched and fed her breakfast while chained up in the company of shackle free people. Maarintjie had been fidgeting for the whole of yesterday trying to creep away so much so that she had to be chained to Rosie’s ankle during the night. Her naturally fine hair was in disarray and Rosie would’ve been more than happy to have braided it into a cute hairstyle if it hadn’t been for the incident last night.

I was the new Mrs. Tate’s personal servant who had the duty of running her evening bath, dressing her mistress in her silk night gown and brushing her wavy chestnut hair. I had just finished tucking her mistress in, all the while the silent Maarintjie was chained to her ankle, when Mrs. Tate spoke, “Thank you, Rosie. May you please unchain Maarintjie and wait outside; I need to have a word with Mary.”

“Yes, mistress.” I took the key from her apron pocket and freed herself from Maarintjie. As I curtseyed and left the room I felt scared; Maarintjie’s ankles and wrists were still bound and Mrs. Tate was somewhat of a wild woman. You never knew what she might do. Pressing my ear against the door I could barely make out a word but my years of eavesdropping skilled me enough to make out the gist of what was being said.

“For whatever reason my step daughter has taken it upon herself to protect you from household chores and perhaps she’s right. A big, strong wench like you would be better suited for field work alas I married into a civilized estate that doesn’t keep field hands but all is not lost for I have friends who are less civil that have endless acres of field for you to work. All I have spoken of will be your future if my step daughter is unable to fluently converse in the Dutch language before the month’s end, are we understood?”