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  Built God a church and laughed
his word to scorn. William Cowper, Retirement
Chapter 2
A few blocks from the courthouse, in a
back room of Saint Peter's church, the black slave Esakka
stood naked before the man who had introduced himself as
Friar Redmond. Like thick cane syrup, the friar's beady eyes
poured over the slave’s well-formed body.
Scratching
his scrimpy red beard, the priest puffed like a fireplace
bellows. "Magnificent mahogany skin you have there, my
young friend. Just magnificent."
Esakka
was not sure how he got himself into this predicament. He
was extremely distressed. The priest had promised him a
guinea if he would help him move some boxes. There were no
boxes in this room and there probably would be no guinea.
Esakka hoped the trial was not over and that Master Solomon
Seney was not searching the courtyard for him.
Redmond's
thin lips were dry and he could not help lisping as he
spoke. "Your body is a beautiful temple to the Lord. As
all bodies should be." The priest's somber black
cassock and his black sombrero presented a strange contrast
to his delight with Esakka's splendid physique.
Esakka
stood tall and responded with dignity. "I am Falashas,
honorable Father."
"You
are Falashas? You said your name was Esakka. Now you say it
is Falashas? Which is it? What are you truly called?"
Esakka eyed his white canvas suit folded on the floor beside
black boots, flinching as the priest's stubby finger poked
at the firmness of his muscles. "Falashas is not my
name. My name is Esakka. I am Ethiopian. My tribe is
Falashas."
Redmond
was in Esakka's face again, his breath spirituous, his
wedge-shaped finger jabbing at the slave's chest. "What
is a Falashas?"
To
keep from cowering, Esakka tightened his toes. He was not
unused to being naked, nor to having unfamiliar fingers
punch and prod him. If this man reached down and cradled his
manhood, as sometimes happened on the auction block to
estimate a male’s success as a breeder, he would strike
him a blow on the head. He was not for sale today
"My
religion is the same as the Kings of Israel." Esakka's
voice projected a strength he did not feel and he prayed
silently that God would help him. "My forefathers were
the children of Menelik, the son of King Solomon and the
Queen of Sheba."
"Is
that so? Are you really sure of that?" The priest
glanced around the room. Apparently, he did not see what he
wanted. He pulled a dull pewter flask from his robe and took
a lengthy sip.
Without
comment, he returned it to its hiding place. Small wonder
the priest had such liquored lungs, Esakka thought.
Redmond
circled Esakka's body again, touching him at each step,
running his fingertips over the slave's silky brown skin.
"Your back is very smooth. You have no scars from any
whippings that I can see."
"Master
Seney is kind to me, and God has protected me through many
tribulations."
"You
speak quite well."
Esakka
sensed the priest meant it as an accusation. He hadn't met a
white man who didn’t resent the fact that he, a slave, had
been educated. "I learned to read on my own, but I have
always had goodhearted masters who let me study their
books."
Redmond
made another circle, his black gown swooshing about his
ankles. He widened the distance between himself and the
slave. "I see the rite of circumcision has been
observed. I've never seen a black man with that done to
him."
"My
people are a clean people. We bathe everyday and we
circumcise. We always wash our hands before eating. We keep
the commandments of the Torah and we follow the laws of the
Jews." Redmond's eyes focused on Esakka's loins. He
leaned forward for a closer look. A fragment of spittle
separated from his lips and ran down his chin.
"The
Lord is my shepherd," Esakka said, keeping his eyes
straight ahead. The words came out strong and clear and he
continued with the Psalm. “I shall not want—”
"I
should hope not!"
From
the corner of his eye, Esakka spied a grin blooming on the
priest's mouth. He resumed the Psalm in a louder voice.
"He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of
righteousness—"
"Enough,
enough, enough!" Redmond shouted. "I can see you
are a devoted servant of the Lord."
Esakka's
patience came to an end. Foregoing any instruction from the
clergyman, he reached for his clothes and began putting them
on.
"A
handsome gift you have there." Redmond swiped drool
from his mouth with his black sleeve, his gaze remaining on
Esakka until his breeches had been drawn up.
"If
I meet a young lass of your station, I will tell your Master
about her. In the meantime, do not speak of this to anyone.
My plans don't always meet with success, so there's no point
in advertising them."
Esakka
snatched his vest coat from the floor and thrust his arms
into it. He did not think he wanted to tell anyone about the
priest's quirky behavior. He doubted he would ever see the
guinea he had been promised. He should have known a guinea
for moving a few boxes was ridiculous. Next time, he would
know better. The temptation had been great because Master
Seney had promised him his freedom when he could repay the
three hundred pounds of his purchase price.
"Of
course, Sirrah," Esakka said meekly as he stepped into
his boots.
Esakka
left the man talking, bolted out the door and ran for the
courthouse lawn. Only when he was nearly there, did he
realize that he had left behind the black Kevenhuller hat
that Mr. Seney had given him that morning.
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