Saturday, December 02, 2006

Hello Master Ben

I cowered as the youngest in our family. I was that one mouth too many to feed. My father tried to give me some value. He tried to teach me some skill, but my hands fumbled. I couldn't work wood or metal. I couldn't produce even the simplest implement for farming.

My older brothers left as soon as they could. Joshua set up his own household. Zeb headed to Jerusalem to learn a trade. My dad hitched me to a plow. I was big and could pull a straight line. By the end of the day my toe nails ached from clawing the dirt through my sandals. I was 13 years old as big as a mule and almost as valuable. I found out I was not even worth that. Even a mule who grew uppety in the field was given rest and water. Father gave me the back of his hand. One day I gave him mine back. As he lay on the ground, I tore off the harness and ran. I would never live like that again!

Tears of rage, shame and pain made it hard to see. After tiring myself out several times, I finally tripped and fell into a ditch. Exhausted, I lay there panting. As my breathing eased, I relaxed and slept.

Shouts, braying animals and clouds of dust woke me. I had fallen into a shallow ditch next to a caravan road. One was shambling by me. "Hey, hey you laying by the road. Come here." I was too tired to run.

"Yes, Lord."

"What were you doing there?"

"Resting Lord. If it please you, I will be on my way."

"And where are you from, lad? There is no town for several stadia in any direction."

"Nowhere, Lord. I am from nowhere."

He laughed. "Your hometown is more populated than you know, youngster. Since you are from this great city of 'Nowhere' perhaps you might find a way with us instead."

"Your humor arises from my pain. I would seek no way with you, Lord."

"Ah, you have come from Nowhere with a nail in your side! If you are brave, I might pull that nail and use that pain to make us both rich."

"My pain is my own business. If you try to doctor me, I will apply a cure to you. Now good day, Lord."

"Easy lad. Brutus! Tertulus! Emander! Let me introduce you to a neighbor of yours from Nowhere!" As his three friends turned our way, I could see he was not afraid of any cure I might try to give. "Brutus, here, escaped from the slave market at age 13. I found him living on the streets of Rome." Tertulus' parents died when he was 6. No relatives wanted him. I found him. Emander is my son, with all the curse that implies. Join us and see if your way might improve."

"As you wish, Lord."

"What is your name, my enthusiastic citizen of Nowhere!"

"Benjamin."

"Welcome Benjamin, to the caravan of Silvus trainer of champions!"

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Glad to see you writing again. I think I remeber these from the past, but it's good to review the old storyline before we just jump into new material.