A New York Lawyer in the Court of Pericles

by David Schenck

  Heroes? So I told them a creation myth. Specifically the creation myth of Spiderman.

  They loved it. Melite too. She moved close to listen. Just as I was finishing the part where Spiderman gets revenge on his uncle’s killers (I’m not 100% sure that’s canon), I heard a sudden crack and yell from Melite. An overseer stood over her, whip in hand and an angry red welt on her neck was starting to weep blood. “Get back to work! All of you! Melite, you should know better!”

  I felt a sudden flood of rage. I couldn’t stand it anymore! I felt myself rising, my fists balled, and then, I looked at him. The overseer, Horus was his name, was shorter than I was, but much broader and heavily muscled. He was also at least 25 years younger and he had a whip and a staff. So, I bent back down and began inspecting a leaf for insects.

  In the modern world we have few opportunities for bravery and so we can imagine that when an opportunity arises we’ll display our latent courage. It was a great disappointment to discover that at my core I was a coward.

  We all returned to our work without a word. Horus watched us for a few minutes and then walked off. Once he was out of hearing range, Melite muttered “It was worth it.”

  We worked mostly in silence until it was time to head back in.

  Dinner was pretty much the same, barley gruel with some chunks of vegetables.

  Cilo sat by me and asked for another story.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I looked at the group of overseers with their whips and staves.

  “Oh, it’s ok now. We just have to be careful during work time.”

  “Yeah, don’t worry.” Added Gelo.

  I was worried, but essentially Cilo and Gelo were the only enjoyable human contact I had and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

  “Ok. But just a quick one.”

  Clio shyly asked me if I would repeat the Spiderman story, since she missed some of the details and Gelo agreed he wanted to hear it again too.

  So, I told the story. Not the exact same as before, I couldn’t remember all the details either, but basically the same. And by the time I was finished we had a crowd. Little by little other slaves had come close to listen and I had done my best to raise my voice enough that they could hear.

  When I finished they all applauded. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. I’d never been the center of attention like this before.

  One of the overseer, who I had seen listening, came over to me and put his hand lightly on my shoulder.

  “Great story! You can be our personal Homer! I’d heard that you like to tell stories and you certainly do!”

  “Thanks! I…”

  And I never finished because without warning he drove his fist into my stomach and then hit me in the forehead as I doubled over.

  I was down on the ground and he kicked me in the stomach. “Telling stories! When you should be working! Lazy bastard!” he kicked and kicked.

  I remembered Tros’ advice that I had to fight back, but I just couldn’t. He kicked me in the mouth and I tasted blood. He kicked me in the eye. And he just keep kicking and shouting.

  Finally, I struggled to my feet. Blood streamed from my mouth and nose and I couldn’t see out of my left eye. He came at me and I grappled him around his back with his head under my arm. He pushed me into the ground. My left hand landed on a good size stone and I picked it up and hit him on the neck with it. It wasn’t much of a hit, from my position, with my left hand. He was suddenly enraged (more than before). He grabbed the rock from my hand. Removing it as easy as if I was a child. He pushed himself off me stood up and kicked me in the balls!

  “OK. Now we understand each other.” And he walked away.

  I rolled onto my stomach and puked. Soon I felt several pairs of hands pulling me up and then nothing.

  Chapter 9

  The moon orbits the Earth. And the Earth orbits the Sun. When the moon passes between the Sun and the Earth, we have a solar eclipse. When the Earth passes between the Sun and the Moon, we have a lunar eclipse.

  Book of Questionable Facts – 1557

  I awoke the next morning to an empty dormitory. Cilo sitting near me scratching idly in the dirt with a stick. She saw I was awake. “Belos said you don’t have to work today. And I’m going to take care of you!” She was clearly proud of her responsibility. She came a little closer to me. “We, Gelo and I, we’re awfully sorry for what happened.”

  “It’s not your fault. I don’t think it was really about the story.”

  I took a moment to inventory my condition. My left eye was practically swollen shut, but I could see a little light through it. My nose might have been broken, it certainly hurt enough. And I was missing a tooth on my upper right side just behind the canine. I needed to pee.

  I slowly got to my feet. I was getting tired of the pain. It was a dark moment and I seriously considered whether this life was worth living. I asked Cilo to turn around and pissed into an empty chamber pot. No blood. Good sign.

  No, I decided. THIS life was not worth living. But life was worth living. And I would find a way to improve my lot. As somebody said (or will say) “while there is life there is hope.”

  Pissing exhausted me and I lay back down. Cilo cleaned my face with cool water and a rough cloth. I slept a little and she stayed with me. At some point Gelo came by with food for us. He also told me he was sorry. Cilo took her nursing duties seriously and made him leave again and “stop bothering” me.

  I couldn’t eat the hard bread very well and Cilo soaked it in a bit of wine to soften it.

  At the end of the day all the other slaves returned. I stayed in the dormitory and Gelo and Cilo brought me dinner. I appreciated the soft gruel more than ever.

  The next day was pretty much the same. I didn’t work and Cilo nursed me. My eye was getting better, less swollen and I could see a little out of it.

  Then on the third day, Gelo came to get me and led me to the vineyards. It was a regular day of work. The swelling in my eye had mostly gone down, but the vision was blurry. Cilo and I worked together, but Gelo was helping a group of men clearing an irrigation ditch in another part of the field.

  Melite worked near us most of the day. She had a string of small scabs on her neck from the whip. Every time I saw her scab or probed my tongue into the space of my missing tooth, I was overcome with rage. But if there was one thing I was learning it was the depth of my own helplessness. My rage was completely without power. I suppose I could attack Ampelios, the overseer who beat me, but I would accomplish nothing except my own death. I wondered how much satisfaction I would receive before I died and if it would balance the pain.

  We worked until break and ate our small meal in silence. As we were finishing Melite put her rough hand on mine and gave me just a little squeeze.

  That evening I was back among the other slaves for dinner. Gelo came to eat with Cilo and me. He told us how they had seen a hawk catch a rabbit in the field. I felt like a rabbit captured by a hawk.

  The overseers ate the same food as us, but they ate in a separate area with a table. We sat on the ground. I looked over at the group seething with hatred. Zeuxis who had whipped Melite just for listening to a story a few minutes too long and Ampelios who had beaten me senseless as part of some insane initiation ritual and Belos who I knew by sight only and two others who I didn’t yet know.

  Just five of them and over 100 of us. We could revolt. Of course, the whole system would turn against us and hunt us down. We were unskilled, unequipped and surrounded by a system that made escape and revolt impossible.

  I was lost in my thoughts and not listening to Gelo, when suddenly I felt a gentle kick at my foot and I looked up to see Belos’ fabulously ugly face.

  “How about you tell us a story?” He said it loud enough that almost everyone turned to look at us.

  I wanted to refuse. I wanted to say that my mouth hurt too much. I wanted to say that they didn’t deserve my stories. I wanted to rebel! But I wanted his approval more. I wanted to be his fr
iend. I wanted him to see value in me. I wanted his protection. I didn’t want to be beaten again. God, I didn’t want to be beaten again.

  So, I told them a story. More Spiderman (stick with what works). I was their performing monkey and oh, how I hoped they liked it.

  And they did like it! Spiderman was a success! Belos told me that he enjoyed it and casually mentioned that I could keep working the vineyards.

  Zeuxis came over to me. Zeuxis! Who I hated! And he thanked me! As if three days ago he hadn’t lashed Melite for listening to me!

  But, I am ashamed to say that I enjoyed their approval.

  In the dormitory, that night, I was given extra room on the dirt. It seems like nothing, but it wasn’t.

  The next day in the vineyard, Zeuxis joined us for lunch and to listen to a story. We probably rested 10 or 15 minutes longer than allowed.

  This was soon the pattern of my days. All day in the vineyards, sometimes killing bugs, sometimes weeding, sometimes hauling water, then at night, I was the story teller. They were a good audience. Starved for entertainment and I had a lifetime of stories to tell. I moved around, never letting them get bored. They liked Spiderman and Superman. Batman didn’t translate well, too many gadgets. My reimagining of Die Hard was a smash success and I told it several times to great acclaim.

  I was finding my place and I hated myself for finding my place. The other slaves treated me as something special and the overseers seemed unwilling to whip me. Not that I gave them reason to whip me. I worked as hard as I could. One beating was enough for me. I was never going to do anything to get another one.

  Cilo and Gelo were my almost constant companions. They seemed to have pretty much free run of the farm as long as they were working. I saw Tros’ wife, Eleni, only in the evenings. She was friendly, but I never really had much opportunity to speak to her. I told Cilo to tell her mother that Tros was working hard to try and raise money to buy their freedom.

  One afternoon, when I had been on the farm about 3 weeks, Melite pulled me down behind a stand of trees and started to remove her clothes. “I paid Zeuxis to leave us alone for a while. Hurry”

  We both stank, my breath was foul (I had my toothbrush, but no toothpaste), hers fouler (she didn’t even have a toothbrush), but it was sex and human contact and her small muscular body under mine and wonderful.

  I never asked her how she paid Zeuxis.

  While Tros apparently had some means of earning money, on the farm there were no such opportunities (which meant no chance to buy freedom). But as with any group of people living together there was a system of exchange. Favors mostly. Sometimes food, some of the slaves had skills, woodworking, weaving. And of course, sex.

  The men and women were kept largely separate. Separate dormitories and largely separate work. The fact that there were only 2 children on the farm and over 100 slaves told me that sex was a pretty rare thing between the male and female slaves. There was a fair amount of sex in the men’s dormitory at nights. I could hear it and over time identify pairs. I assume the women’s dormitory was similar.

  Of course, there were exceptions. Just like Melite bribed an overseer to ignore us, the overseers could just ignore themselves.

  One day I was told to take some baskets from the vineyard area over to the olive groves. I was getting familiar with the layout of the farm and I took a shortcut through a stand of trees and I saw Eleni and Belos coming out from behind a group of large clay jars. I didn’t think they saw me.

  That evening, just after story time, Eleni came up to me. She looked at me fierce and angry and maybe a little scared. She took my arm and led me off a bit. “I love Tros!” She said angrily and started to cry, then stopped. “I’ll do what I have to, to protect Cilo. I don’t care what you think!”

  And she ran off.

  I guess this is what Tros meant by asking me to watch out for them, and I was sorry to have to betray my friend.

  I couldn’t see anything wrong with what she was doing. It was the same thing I was doing! Trying to get in good with the men who controlled the whips and food and jobs. Trying to keep herself and her child as safe as possible.

  I also couldn’t see any value to Tros knowing. Not for him and not for Eleni or Clio. So, I resolved to keep my mouth shut.

  The next night I told a story (loosely based on an episode of Friends) about the value of keeping a secret. She gave me a small smile to show that she understood. After that, she was friendlier to me and sometimes came to eat dinner with the kids and Melite and me.

  A few weeks later Tros came to visit and everything went fine. I was surprised that Belos cooperated in keeping this secret. He may have been afraid of Tros, or afraid of interfering in the business relationship between their two owners, or maybe he didn’t want to hurt his friend. Who knows? But he did keep the secret as far as I know and when Tros was on the farm, Belos gave them time together.

  It can be hard to understand people. To balance their kindness with their casual cruelty.

  Chapter 10

  Steel can be made from iron by the introduction of carbon (I don’t know how much or how, maybe by throwing chunks of charcoal into molten iron, maybe by bubbling air (which contains carbon dioxide) through it). Steel is much harder than iron. Steel can be made resistant to corrosion by the addition of other metals (I don’t know which ones – not gold or silver or copper).

  Book of Questionable Facts - 330

  Time passed, I don’t know how long, I had no way of keeping track of days, not even a prison wall to scratch my mark into. But the grapes grew and the caterpillars we didn’t kill turned into butterflies.

  Life on the farm had its rhythm, and each day was much like the last. Belos enjoyed my stories (thanks thousands of years of literary tradition!) and that kept me from the worst of jobs and the worst of the beatings. I felt terrible, knowing that the jobs I didn’t do, someone else would be forced to do, but this was the life of a slave. Tros was right there is no friendship among slaves.

  One evening, I sat down to eat next to Eleni. The kids, who always ate with me, were nowhere to be seen. “Where is Cilo and Gelo?”

  She pointed to them. They were playing with two young boys. Where did they come from?

  From time to time we would get travelers stopping at the farm. We were the better part of a day’s walk from Athens and Cleon gave standing orders that any citizen who asked for hospitality be treated as a guest. A separate little house (with BEDS!) was set aside for the use of travelers and they were given food and wine. They ate the same food we ate, usually in their house, but occasionally they sat with us and listened to my stories.

  So it wasn’t surprising to find citizens sitting by the cook fire when we returned from the fields. You could tell them immediately by the cleanliness of their clothes. The dustiest roads had nothing on field work. The unusual thing was the kids. Children were never part of the traveling groups.

  This group (they were even cleaner than usual) was an actual family! Two parents and two kids.

  Well, time rolled around for my story. I was starting on what I imagined would be a two night telling of “Charlotte’s Web”.

  It went well and of course I ended on a cliffhanger. If 50 years of watching TV has taught me anything it’s to end a multipart story on a cliffhanger.

  After my story ended Belos came up to me with the citizen.

  “This is our bard, Robert.”

  The citizen held out his hand “Pleased to meet you. I’m Aiolos, son of Eugenio. That was a great story! We’ve never heard anything like it! Imagine a pig and a spider! Who can write! I’ve got to know, how does it end?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t tell you that. The end’s not until tomorrow.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to stay the night and hear the end tomorrow!”

  “Really? Aren’t you traveling? You’re going to stay the night and wait all day tomorrow, just for the end of the story?”

  “Yes. In fact, we aren’t traveling at all, we left Athens this
afternoon just to come hear your story. My friend Herodes, passed through a couple of weeks ago and heard one of your fantastic stories and told us about it and we decided to come hear you for ourselves. And it was fabulous!”

  He took my hand and pressed some small coins into my palm.

  Belos said to him, “Why don’t you and your family get settled in the house and I’ll have a slave bring you some wine.”

  “Yes, good idea. Traveling takes a lot out of you.”

  Traveling takes a lot out of you?! Try working in the field!

  He walked off to collect his family. As soon as his back was turned, Belos grabbed my hand. I opened my fist to show three small silver coins. Belos, took 2 for himself and left without a word.

  The next day I showed the coin to Melite. She told me it was a hemiobol and it was half an obol (and so, half of what I owed Tros).

  “I’d hide that somewhere safe. Any overseer will take it as soon as he sees it.”

  That night after the story finished the citizen give me an even bigger coin! “Great story! I loved the end! Sad, but happy at the same time!” We’ll be back!” And to Belos, “Do you think Cleon would sell him?”

  “Cleon would sell anything for the right price.”

  “Well thanks again!” He shook my hand.

  I didn’t wait for Belos to grab me. I just held out the coin. It was a single coin 2 or three times larger than the one I had. I wasn’t surprised when Belos took the coin, but I was surprised when he reached into his pouch and produced two small coins and placed them in my hand. One was a hemiobol and the other a smaller coin. But I now had money to pay Tros and even a little something extra. There was, of course, nothing to spend money on here on the farm. Only save it and dream of one day buying freedom.

  After that visitors arrived fairly frequently. I was becoming quite popular! And my little stash of coins grew. I was years away from freedom, but I could see it in the distance.