The Priest Page 7

  Once the fresh air was replaced by the aroma of the human bodies, Mauricio moaned loudly. I’m going to suffocate; this place, it’s too small. I can’t breathe.

  “Don’t get sick on me again, or I’ll forget that Tarin is waiting for three slaves,” the guard menaced, but Mauricio wasn’t listening to her anymore.

  The trip from the Temple to Tarin took the whole day. Mauricio and the other two men were allowed to relieve themselves twice. When the guard stopped the van to take a break, Mauricio couldn’t believe that she was going to let him out again.

  I am out. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Overloads of contrasting emotions were fighting to dominate one another. Laughing won. He put his feet down gingerly, as if by touching the red soil, it would shatter and disappear. I wonder what it feels like to walk with my bare feet on it. He looked around to see if the women were checking on him.

  “You, do what you’re supposed to,” the driver warned him, whip in hand.

  I hate you. Mauricio sighed and limited himself to getting down on his knees and scooping some red dirt in his hands. It disappears between my fingers, like water, but it’s different. He looked at his hands, colored by the remaining dust, and brought them closer to his nose. Oh… He sneezed before finishing his thought. A melodic noise echoed in the crisp air and he raised his head to follow a small, dark-blue and brown body flying toward a tree. The elation he had felt a moment earlier was replaced by an emotion that left him looking for air. “A bird singing… this is what a bird looks like. I’ve never thought that something so small could produce such sounds.” His eyes filled with tears. Something else caught his attention. What are you? A bug? He crouched to take a closer look at a blade of grass that was arched down by something black and round. A whole symphony of chirping and clicking started a few seconds later and he smiled in recognition. Yes, you and your friends sound like the bugs outside my cell.

  “How long do we have to stay here?” the driver asked, already climbing inside the van.

  “Inside, now,” the guard ordered. “What’s so funny, idiot?” She gave Mauricio a sharp look.

  He waited a moment longer outside, and when she turned to insult the other men, he grabbed a fallen leaf from the ground and put it in his pocket.

  The third time the van stopped, it was late in the afternoon and the sun was a golden disk hovering in the sky.

  This is a sunset. No wonder the field workers talk so much about it. Mauricio stared at the sight, eyes bright and mouth dangling open. “Have you ever seen anything like that before?” he asked the two men squatting behind a short bush. They looked at each other and then back at him as if he was mad. “Look at the colors! Did you know that the reds and the yellows could mix together? And the blue of the sky… Look how it’s changing before our eyes,” he continued, incapable of stopping. He needed to share his emotions with someone else. Rosie, I wish you were here with me, under this sky bleeding red and orange and yellow.

  “Idiot, stop talking; you aren’t here to make conversation,” the guard reminded him.

  Without warning, the whip made contact with his back and he fell on all fours to the ground. He felt hard objects under his hands and knees and when he lifted himself, he noticed that he had landed on a sea of multicolored pebbles.

  “Time to go,” the driver called.

  He collected one of the pebbles and looked as it changed colors when moved this way and that under the sunlight.

  “Are you deaf?” the guard asked him.

  Mauricio quickly hid the pebble in his closed hand and took one final breath. The wind played with the brunches of a tall, weeping tree and a balmy scent penetrated inside his nose and opened his lungs. He breathed slowly and let the fragrance fill him, leaving him clean and refreshed. When he was back inside the stuffy passenger compartment of the van, he closed his eyes and touched the pebble and the leaf, imagining that he was still out there with the birds and the bugs.

  Several hours later, when Mauricio’s body had reached its limit, the guard announced their arrival. The van stopped and she went to open the shutter. It was dark outside, but Mauricio could make out the silhouette of a building. It was big and tall and towered over the short vegetation surrounding the place. He looked at it forebodingly. Mauricio hoped the guard would let him find the privacy of a bush before doing anything else. Apparently, letting the slaves use the latrine wasn’t high on the list of the guard’s priorities any longer.

  “You’re officially out of my hair now,” she said, clearly relieved when a tall door opened, revealing a light inside the building. She saw another guard walking briskly toward them and went to meet her. The two women exchanged greetings that betrayed the fact that they were more than simply acquainted and then remembered, several minutes later, that there was human cargo to take care of.

  The inside of the building wasn’t as majestic as the outside. The guards walked them past two hallways, then down a flight of stairs that ended at a large chamber lit by sconces. There, Mauricio and the two slaves were separated. The two men were taken into custody by the new guard, and Mauricio was led just outside the chamber and left to wait in a small room with a disproportionately tall ceiling and four circular holes at shoulder’s height. The room was drafty as a result of the small windows, but Mauricio didn’t mind the cold. It kept him sharp after so many hours of dozing on and off. It also helped that the room had a small toilet hidden behind a screen. After having relieved himself, Mauricio sat on the floor and started playing with his two new treasures; he rolled the pebble with his fingers and gently traced the contours of the leaf. After a while, it became clear that nobody was coming for him. This room was his new cell. He took a better look at it and he didn’t like what he saw. The draft wasn’t pleasant anymore. Mauricio was cold and hungry by the time someone remembered that he was there.

  Chapter 7

  “Let’s get to work.” A guard came to pick him up.

  At least this one is happy, Mauricio thought. In twenty-two years, he had been passed around by so many guards that he couldn’t recognize one face from the other. But this one was different; she looked happy.

  “Have you ever worked in the fields?” the guard asked.

  Mauricio turned his head sideways, looking for the person she was talking to.

  “So, have you?” the guard, who didn’t look old, but had a long white braid that contrasted with her dark eyes, asked again.

  Mauricio turned his head one more time, but the guard’s gaze didn’t go past him.

  “Do you still have your tongue?”

  Mauricio had to admit that she wasn’t hideous, and that she hadn’t touched him yet, although she was sporting a whip and a gun, just like every other guard he had met.

  “I’ve never worked in the fields,” he said, looking nervously at the woman. He hoped that she wasn’t the type who got a kick out of getting slaves in trouble. He had met that guard before many times. It hadn’t been pleasant at all.

  “You were a semental, right?” she asked, looking at him now.

  Mauricio felt her eyes on him and didn’t know what to think. Guards normally didn’t look directly at slaves or talk to them. “Yes.” He thought it better to keep his answer simple.

  “You’ve never been outside then,” she stated. “It’s hard work outside, but you’ll probably like the change of venue.” The guard showed him the way.

  Mauricio felt confused by the sad look she gave him after the last sentence. He didn’t know if he was supposed to reply to her words or not. So he decided to wait and see what was required of him.

  “Who gave you your name? Mauricio is a unique name for a slave,” the guard asked, still looking at him.

  How do you know my name? And why do you care? “My father gave me this name when I was five or six.” Mauricio found that he wasn’t comfortable with the guard’s eyes focused on him. He wasn’t used to it. It completely ruined all his efforts of being inconspicuous.

  “You can call me Gu
en, by the way.” The guard smiled at him.

  What did she just say? Mauricio couldn’t be more surprised by the last bit of conversation. There is something completely wrong about this. A guard is talking to me, asking personal questions. Maybe I’m still sleeping. His level of uneasiness was rapidly growing uncomfortable. I hope she leaves me alone. He focused on the act of walking. She didn’t say anything else, and Mauricio had the time to look at his surroundings. They remained on the same floor, which was one lower than the entry level. I don’t like it here. This place is scarier in the light of day than it was last night. The ceiling is too high, the tiled floor radiates cold, and the draft is chilling my bones. He followed the woman from one side of the building to the other in blessed silence. This hallway goes forever and it’s so dark without windows. Finally, Guen slowed down and stopped before a big door with an equally big window at its center that let in white light. Heavens bless me; it looks bright out there. Mauricio peeked at the view, but he had to avert his eyes for a moment.

  “Here we are. Let me recalibrate your collar first so that you can get out, and then I’ll leave you in the capable hands of your field boss. See you later tonight.” A moment later, Guen made a small gesture of salute with one hand to her head, opened the door for him, held it until he walked through and then turned away.

  Mauricio was too shocked to say anything at all and couldn’t shrug the feeling that there was something ominous going on. He rubbed his eyes at the onslaught of natural light.

  “I know, it’s hard to get used to the fact that there are nice women,” a male voice intruded on Mauricio’s thoughts. He turned to his right and was face-to-face with a slave whose age he couldn’t tell. The man was taller than Mauricio, strongly built, with olive skin and dark hair sprinkled with silver. His eyes were the most distinctive feature of his whole face: steel gray, speckled with green.

  “I’m Arias, your field boss. Welcome to Tarin.” The man offered Mauricio his outstretched hand and a warm smile.

  “I’m Mauricio.” He held the other man’s hand reluctantly, intimidated by his field boss.

  “Follow me to the cafeteria where you can have something to eat and drink,” Arias said while walking toward a low building on their right. “By the way, your collar is on another frequency, but it still works outside. And, I can assure you first hand, it stings.” The man’s hand went automatically to his collar.

  “I know, ‘Don’t do anything stupid or else.’ Don’t worry; I’m not the kind of person who does stupid things.” Mauricio waved his hand in the air. He was frustrated and his tone reflected his sentiment.

  “I wasn’t worried,” Arias said, seemingly amused by Mauricio’s outburst.

  “I didn’t sleep, and I didn’t eat. My new accommodation is cold and drafty. The guard who escorted me here, Guen, is nice to me.”

  “I already told you. It takes some time to adjust to Guen.” Arias was laughing with mirth. “Regarding the lack of sleep, you will just have to resist until tonight, but at least you get to eat now.”

  “Can you do anything about the cell?” Mauricio asked, repressing a smile.

  “No, unfortunately, I have no jurisdiction on the accommodations. I can make your life easier while you are here, though.” Arias gave a sideways look at Mauricio. They had reached their destination.

  “While I am here? I am not supposed to stay here until I die?” Mauricio had heard the slight change of tone when Arias had said it.

  “That is what I meant,” Arias answered, holding the door open for Mauricio. Inside the cafeteria, there were other men, and it took some time to introduce Mauricio to the others.

  “Is it always like this?” Mauricio asked, after he had already eaten more than his usual share of food.

  “More or less.” Arias took a sip from his steaming cup.

  “What’s that you’re drinking?” Mauricio asked, smelling the strong aroma.

  “Coffee. Would you like some?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had anything but water.” Mauricio wiggled his nose inhaling the robust scent wafting his way.

  “We can make things right immediately. I’ll fetch a cup for you.” Arias stood up and went to the table with all the assorted beverages.

  Mauricio looked around, relaxing in his chair. He wasn’t used to any of this, but he could get comfortable, eventually. He nibbled on the last piece of bread left on his plate and thought of how his life was changing. He noticed that Arias had found someone on his way back and was talking animatedly. Mauricio looked at the scene with envy. No man had ever talked to him that way, with the exception of his father. And Rosie, who liked to spend time with him, even though he wasn’t a woman. He missed her.

  “Hey, you!” Someone tapped Mauricio’s shoulder.

  “Yes?” He turned around to face three men who were looking back at him with curious faces. They were balancing generous portions of food on their trays.

  “Is it true that you’re from the Temple?” the dark one asked, picking at a piece of bread lying atop another three different layers of meats and vegetables. His big fingers clumsily knocked off a morsel of dark meat that fell out of the tray and landed on the floor. The man didn’t seem to notice.

  What a waste. “Yes.” Mauricio wasn’t used to conversation and also wasn’t sure that he wanted to talk to them. These three men didn’t look friendly.

  “Say, are you one of them?” the one with lighter skin and a mustache asked, accentuating the last word with a sneer. “You don’t mind, do you?” He sat at Mauricio’s table and then motioned for the other men to join him.

  I do mind. “One of whom?” Mauricio was already regretting having turned around.

  “You have the clean face of a semental. Yes, you definitely do,” the third one, a short guy with frizzy, red hair, said, playing with his fork and sending rice everywhere.

  Mauricio calmly cleared his tray of the stray food that had landed on it.

  “We could help with that, though,” the dark one said.

  “Yes, we’re good friends. We can break your face for you. So you won’t look so pretty around here,” Mustache added with a smile that made Mauricio cringe.

  “Leave him alone.” Coming from behind, a fourth man interrupted the series of suggestions about rearranging Mauricio’s features. He pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat at Mauricio’s.

  “Or what?” Red hair was clearly the belligerent type.

  “You know exactly what,” the man answered calmly. He was young and thinly built, but there was something about the way he talked that made an impression on Mauricio. The other three men evidently thought the same because they stood up and left after few rude remarks about sementals and the people who went to the trouble to defend them. They left behind a trail of food on the table.

  Wasteful idiots. Mauricio had his eyes on them until they disappeared in the crowd.

  “Don’t mind them,” the man said, crossing his arms on his chest.

  “Good morning, Leander.” Arias had finally found his way back, although Mauricio had the distinct feeling that the older man had waited on purpose. Leander nodded back.

  “Leander, this is Mauricio. Mauricio, this is Leander.” Arias put a steaming cup of coffee before Mauricio and mimed the act of drinking. “Try a small sip, and be careful because it’s hot,” he warned.

  “It’s… hot and bitter,” Mauricio said, while pressing his palm against his scorched lip. The other two men laughed.

  “Another thing you’ll have to get used to,” Arias said, sipping his coffee.

  “I’m addicted to this stuff,” Leander added.

  “So, Leander here is going to show you what to do.” Arias stood up, and without adding anything else, left.

  Mauricio was getting a furious headache. And he was getting anxious. He didn’t understand what was happening. He felt comfortable with the three thugs making fun of him, for that was his reality. The atmosphere in the cafeteria was putting him on edge. He looked aro
und and saw men chatting and talking to each other or just readying themselves for a long day of work. They seemed happy, not terrorized by the thought they could be breathing their last air.

  “Deep in thought, huh?” Leander put his empty cup down on the table. The sound, more than Leander’s words, brought Mauricio back to the present.

  “In less than two days my life has changed completely, and I’m not sure what to think,” Mauricio cautiously answered.

  “I wasn’t born here myself. I came to Tarin only a year ago. And, like you, I hadn’t had the time of my life.” Leander took the cup and went to refill it. Mauricio looked at his new acquaintance and noticed that Leander limped slightly.

  “How can you tell?” Mauricio asked when he came back.

  “I happen to have a pretty face as well, in case you haven’t noticed.” Leander raised one of his brows and then smiled.

  “You were a semental?” Mauricio was surprised. He took another sip of his lukewarm coffee.

  “Yep. I came here straight from the Temple.” Leander’s eyes were scanning the room.

  “You were there?”

  “I even saw the Priestess, once.” Leander was now focused on a group of men sitting by the entry, at the other end of the room.

  “I did, too, recently. More than I wanted, actually.” Mauricio found the coincidence interesting.

  “We better start our day,” Leander announced and turned his head toward the exit.

  Mauricio couldn’t help but notice the long stares Leander and the group of men exchanged. They weren’t friendly, but at the same time, there wasn’t any hostility between them. Leander didn’t pause to make introductions, so Mauricio followed him outside to the fields.

  “You’re going to like it. Not immediately, not today for sure, but you’ll appreciate the opportunity to work under the sun,” Leander said and then turned to face Mauricio. “Enjoy every moment of it,” he finished.

  They walked, following a path paved in bricks that cut through a sea of tall grass, Mauricio trailing his arms low to touch the tops of the foliage, waving in time with the light breeze. His mind went into overload; the colors his eyes were seeing were too bright; the sky was too blue, and the grass too green. Even though he had experienced the thrill of being outside just the day before, he was conditioned to the dull colors of the inside world of the Temple, where everything was a shade of gray. I’ll never get used to this. The colors were pure and undiluted, and the light shone bright—even the smells were too intense. Was it so vivid yesterday? The grass had a peculiar scent he couldn’t define with words, but it was fresh. The air is so crisp that it’s stinging my nose, but the sun is warm on my skin. His fingers were prickled by the rigid texture of the stems forming the sea of undulating green grass. “Where are all the bugs?”