The Slave Market

 

I had known for some time that this day would come. I woke that morning with a heavy heart, half hoping for a moment that my dream had been reality and my waking a dream. My reality was so much worse than any nightmare my mind could fabricate. Today was the last day of my freedom. Well, perhaps it would be more correct to say, that today would be the last of any semblance of self-independence. Today I would be escorted to the old courthouse in the centre of the city. I would attend the dreaded courtroom 99, known colloquially as ‘The Slave Market’. I would leave the courthouse, in the company of a new master. I would have been bought by one of my creditors. I would be his slave. The only uncertain thing about this entire process was who would claim me. All of my creditors had a good case in law and fact against me. And I could not afford to repay a single one. 

 

I had pawned everything I owned in the hopes of repaying my debt. Last week, I had made the tragic journey to the pawn shop with my most prized possession, my father’s gold watch. Yet, even the sum provided from this item had disappeared in my hands. It had not made a dent in the sums that I owed. Indeed, it was almost hard to choose who to pay when I was obliged to so many creditors. 

 

My heart sank even further as I rose from my bed. Each of the people I was indebted to was cruel and unrelenting. I had no hope for a kind slave master. As I dressed, I thought sadly that I did not even own the clothes on my back. I was stealing them, as the bank now owned every single one of my possessions. I had nothing to call my own. 

 

As I opened the door of my apartment for the last time, I saw the bailiff’s notice for repossession pinned to the door. It was a bitter reminder of my sorry state, marring all of the good memories I, and my ancestors before me had ever enjoyed in this house. I had ruined everything. I had disgraced my family. And I had lost my freedom. 

 

A policeman was waiting for me outside, his red jacket brisk and his black helmet shining. There was no escaping matters. I did not attempt to resist as he handcuffed me to his belt and marched promptly along. “Hurry along miss” he barked “much business to attend to”, as if my sorry state was just a routine matter to be dealt with daily. 

 

I scurried along beside him, past many familiar sights in the city. I would never see them again as an independent woman. The river rushed along under us as we took the bridge of the lanterns, continuing on its merry course as though oblivious of my plight. We passed by shoppers and men cleaning the street. Some looked at me with contempt, others ignored me. 

 

 

Then we reached the courthouse. We marched through the twisting corridors until we finally arrived at courtroom 99. Passing through the angry and seething crowd of my creditors, I was escorted to a dock and handcuffed and shackled by my feet to the bars surrounding my seat. I stood in the place of the accused. Before me was a large crowd of people. It was overwhelmingly true. I owed each one money. And deep inside I knew, even a lifetime of slavery and hard labour, could still never repayment my debt to a single one of them. 

 

 

A large Registrar with a red face and a booming voice called my case. The Judge, looking over the top of his glasses called out “and who is it that accuses her?” 

 

“I do, Judge” came a voice from the front of the crowd. My heart sank at the sound of this familiar voice. 

 

A wheezing and large man with beady eyes and heavy breathing was pushing his way to the top of the crowd. Suspenders were tightly pressing against the vast expanse of his stomach in a feeble attempt to support the voluminous trousers beneath. “State your name for the Court” the Judge directed. “Heaviness, your Honour”, the man wheezed and simmered at the Judge. 

 

“State your case against the Accused”, the Judge directed. 

 

“The Accused first became familiar to me in January of 2013” Mr. Heaviness spoke. Despite his wheezing and shortness of breath, this man’s voice filled the courtroom. “She approached me because she wanted something to deal with her depression. You know, feeling that this life was meaningless. She said she had heard through the grapevine that I could help. Well I do have my means…” His beady eyes peered over the top of his glasses at the Judge. He paused for a moment to suck in some air, as if there was a limited supply he fought to obtain before all the other participants in the court room took their share. 

 

“First I sold her chocolate. Sweet things you know, ice-cream, cakes, French delights. Kept her going for a while and she racked up her bill with me. However, the items of food simply weren’t enough for the accused. So, I told her I had some other products. I gave her a taste of my alcohol. Well your Honour, that seemed to please her for a while. She consumed copious amounts but still said she couldn’t numb the pain or lift her depression. At this point she had already left her debts unpaid, but I’m an understanding fellow. So, I gave her the hard stuff. You know, fills your mind and bleeds the pocket”… his wheezing laugh stumbled into a cough. “Did she pay for these pills of delight, Mr. Heaviness?” the Judge queried. 

 

“I have calculated the sums your honour” Heaviness responded. Out of his much treasured purse he pulled a rolled up piece of paper, untying it and it fell on the floor and kept rolling, a never ending scroll. The sugar products amount to 7,532.00 alcoholic supplies amount to 15,279.00 and the pills of pleasure 500,892.00. With interest, this amounts to 752,493.00.” He stated this figure with an air of triumph, turning for the first time to look me in the eyes with contempt. Gasps filled the packed court room. 

 

“Mr. Heaviness, that is quite a figure, and I do not doubt your excellent accountancy skills” stated the Judge, “but we have many other applicants today and I must get through them all. Who is next?”

 

 

A woman stepped forward to the front of the room daintily. She was thin and beautiful and looked flawless in her red suit and high heels. Her lips and nails were red and her lashes impossibly long. But her face was hard and frozen. Stabbing a forefinger with its red dagger nail at me – she faced the direction of the judge. “This woman came to me in June 2014” she stated. “She had seen my excellent advertisements. I place them all around the city of course, my agents are very hard working” she smirked. “We appear in underwear shops, women’s clothing stores, and even advertisements for cars, household appliances, woman’s products, chocolate, ice-cream, through most major Hollywood franchises…” 

 

“Very well Ms. Vanity,” the Judge interrupted, “I think the court gets the picture”. 

 

“Of course,” she responded, tossing her perfectly manicured hair. “This woman came to me, said she wanted to look like some of my models. Well”, she looked at me with contempt and arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “with some it’s easier than others. But I tried my best, as I do for all my clients. I set her to the finest gym the city had to offer. I gave her strict diet plans. I mandated a course of lash extension, lip fillers, hair dye, hair treatments, manicure and pedicure, skin treatments…” 

 

As she spoke, she too unravelled a lengthy scroll, the paper rolling and running to the other side of the court room. 

 

“These expenses were left unpaid!! It amounts to a grand figure of 400,982 excluding VAT and interest. And” she added with contempt “she failed to achieve any of the goals. She is a disgrace. I couldn’t place her near any one of my windows. In fact, she is a stain on my good reputation!” 

 

 

It was all true… everything she said was true. I hung my head in shame. I had tried so hard to succeed in mirroring the alluring images I saw in the windows as I walked down the Main Street. But I had always fell short of physical perfection, no matter how hard I tried. 

 

“Your credible accusations are noted Ms. Vanity”, stated the Judge. “Who is the next accuser?”

 

A man stepped forward. He looked immaculate in his suit, shining shoes and hair jelled perfectly into place. He had a confidence about him and authority when he spoke. 

 

“Your Honour, my name is Mr. Worthlessness. The Accused became familiar to me some time back in 2003” he explained. “She came to me, saying she didn’t know who she was and she wanted to buy something to base her identity in. You know, she wanted to find her worth. I have many such options in my franchise. Excellent trustworthy products if I do say so myself.” His chest puffed out at this juncture. 

 

“So first I set her on a course of study. I told her if she could ace her exams, she would find her meaning and purpose on this planet. Well it seems she did alright on that front but came back to me saying it wasn’t sufficient. Well I always have the next level product available. So, I sent her into a career. It told her if she pleased her employers and performed well, she would find satisfaction and meaning. Seemed to work for some time, but this lady is a fickle one and she came back to me for the next latest thing. So, I introduced her to some men. They show interest in you and when you base your identity in what they say about you, you receive grade 5 satisfaction and value for money. It’s a proven product” he stated with an air of superiority. “Well it transpires that all of the men I selected, and there was quite a number, ran off. Quite frankly, she couldn’t keep them around. And who am I to blame for that?” at this point his face was red and his eyes were flashing. “It’s all her fault that none of the products worked. She wasn’t worth loving because who could ever love such a failure? She’s a hopeless case, she’ll never amount to anything, she’s pitiful, she….”

 

At this point the Judge interrupted his ranting “Mr. Worthlessness, though I’m sure your sentiments are noble, the court has much business to get through and this case is long, and in these circumstances, I request that you keep your remarks succinct”.

 

Mr. Worthlessness cleared his throat. “Understood your Honour. I believe I have made my case. As for the current outstanding bill for all of my products and services, it amounts to a grand 2.7 million”. 

 

There was a gasp in the courtroom and then a hum of angry voices as the creditors all muttered at each other that they were never to get their satisfaction. 

 

 

The Judge sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Worthlessness. You presented a comprehensive prosecution. Who is the next creditor?” 

 

An old lady waddled to the top of the court room. She looked like an old laundry lady in an apron and gingham dress. She had a red bandana covering her greying hair and a large mole located on her chin, just above the rings of flesh wobbling around her neck. The mole had several large hairs protruding from it. 

 

“Well your Honour” the lady said. “I dare say I know the accused, and I dare say she knows me” she frowned in my direction in anger. “Come to me on multiple occasions she has. Well I helped her out in her time of need. First time she came when she found her friends talking about her behind her back. Well I took that memory and said I’d keep it in my bank and she could hold on to it, you know, to get even. Then there was the time she wasn’t invited to the picnic. Well I told her, never forget that neither. You’ve got to hold on to that, keep it holding over the heads of those ‘so called friends.’ You never know when you might need to pull it out of the bank and use it against them! Always helpful to have use of these memories when making new friends too. Then of course, there was the multiple situations with her family members. How they slighted and belittled her. In fact, we’d be here all day! And I wouldn’t want to waste the court’s time.” She smirked at the Judge, though he seemed surprisingly indifferent to her charms. 

 

“Well your Honour I’ve held on to those memories stored in my expensive warehouses and she has never once paid me the interest owing for my services. Though I dare say we agreed upon the terms when she first came to me. Millions of memories I’ve kept at this point. Some at a very high price. Of course, all these men Mr. Worthlessness introduced her to… She’s got a whole storeroom of memories against the entire male sex now.” Throwing her head back and laughing revealed a mouth full of rotting teeth. 

 

“Mrs. Accuser you never told the court your name” snapped the Judge impatiently. 

 

“I am Mrs. Bitterness at your service, sire” she stated. 

 

 

The Judge was looking at his watch impatiently. “I do believe we will be here all day” he muttered. “Who is next?” the Judge barked. 

 

A man came forward. He was thin and tall with an olive-green suit that didn’t fit his bony frame properly. His ankles protruded at the bottom of the trouser legs and the suit selves ended well above his bony wrists. His hair was thinly combed over and was greasy and a non-descript brown colour. He wore very thick glasses that made his eyes look very small and his skin was pasty and pail. “Yes your Honour” he said in a wieldy high pitched voice. 

 

“State your case” said the Judge in a curt manner, not glancing up at him. 

 

“Well your Honour” the man spoke. “I’ve known the accused all of my life, and it is my humble submission that she owes ME the highest debt”. 

 

At this there was a murmur of dissatisfaction amongst the creditors standing in the crowded court room. 

 

“Ever since she was a child, she has been beholding to me. She came to me about starting school, when she had to go somewhere new, to that sports camp in the local village, swimming lessons, when that boy was bullying her… She paid big sums when it came to people liking her. I helped her to hold back from situations, not open her mouth when she might have embarrassed herself. And most of all I prevented her from saying offensive things that might make people not like her. I helped her restrain the parts of her personality that I thought would be most unpalatable to others. I helped her through exams, I kept her awake at night when she needed to think about things, I’ve even been assisting her throughout all of her interactions with the creditors before the court thus far. I have been constantly by her side. And how does she repay me? Well your Honour, she owes me a massive debt.” 

 

He presented a massive ring binder full of pages. 

 

“My secretary has been good enough to draw up a statement, but I’m afraid your Honour that this is just one volume of 2,059 others. The rest are waiting in a moveable truck which can be brought before the courts’ attention at its pleasure and convenience. But if I flick here to the last page, I can see that her current balance stands at … 1.9 billion…”

 

At this pronouncement there was a stunned silence in the court room. 

 

The Judge broke it abruptly. “You never stated your name, Creditor”. 

 

“I am Mr. Fear” the man whined. 

 

 

A small square man with a shifty face and a sharp nose pushed his way to the front of the crowd, interrupting, “you simply cannot forget me, your Honour, MY services are invaluable and greatly deserving of the most generous of remuneration.” Gesticulating wildly he continued “every day I have sent my agents to be at the side of this Accused” at this he struck the air in my direction. “My highly educated and skilled practitioners have endeavoured to keep a very comprehensive record, of the most pertinent events throughout this woman’s life! Indeed, they left no stone unturned...”

 

“Get to the point Accuser” sighed the Judge. 

 

“Very well, your most Honourable” bowed the small man. “Indeed, a record of every memory that was worthy of recall and which my agents could return to her mind at just the right time. Our services are key in overcoming the disgusting attitude of mankind, that of pride. I always ensure that her motives are pure. I am adept at exposing when she is self-seeking and careless towards other human beings. Why, I kept a list of all the money she spent in January 2018, reminding her as she visited the shops of all the poor starving children across the world. Any time she took a step in her career, I was quick to remind her of all the times she had failed to do something right, and that she should be grateful that any employer should condescend to accept her. When she entered into any new friendship, I reminded her of ways she had failed people in the past, keep her on her toes, you know, so as not to repeat the same mistakes. I repeatedly told her she was not doing enough to justify her existence and she needed to try harder to please people. When she was beginning to forget, I was adept at reminding her about the times she had done wrong. The gossiping, the lying, the selfishness, the laziness… Your Honour I and my worthy associates of Condemnation, Guilt and Shame Ltd, have entire filing cabinets full of vitally important information which I have diligently used to assist this ungrateful wretch” at this he turned and glared at me. 

 

 

The Judge looked as if he had reached his limit. “How many more Creditors are waiting to speak?” he boomed. 

 

A group of eager hands clutching pieces of paper waved their hands in the court room. It seemed that we had not even made a dent in the number of my accusers. 

 

 

“Is there no one to speak on your behalf Prisoner?” the Judge fired, turning towards me. 

 

“No, your Honour, I could not afford…” my words trailed off as there came an unexpected and unfamiliar voice from the back of the Courtroom.  

 

“I speak on her behalf”. 

 

There was something commanding about this voice. It was not a shout, yet the voice filled the room and it emanated authority. Despite my desperate circumstances, I felt a strange sort of calm settle over me upon the hearing of this voice. 

 

The participants in the court room all looked at each other in confusion and shock and strained their heads to see who this unexpected man could be. The first one who sought an audience with the Judge yet did not accuse me! They knew I was penniless, friendless and without connections. Who could possibly wish to speak for me?!

 

A man made his way to the front of the court room. He looked so normal. Indeed, he could have been from any local neighbourhood. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance. His clothes were the normal wear of any commoner, and not the prestigious gowns of the advocates who swept through these court rooms. Yet his face carried with it, a peace. And there was an air of authority about him. I was sure that all the debtors in that room could feel it. Their bodily language seemed to unwittingly display a sense of discomfort at his proximity. In his arms he carried a large box. 

 

Setting the box down on a table at the front of the court room he said “I have come to pay the prisoner’s debts”. 

 

Gasps filled the courtroom. “Who does he think he is!! How could he ever hope to repay…. My debt is the largest…”

 

The Judge peered over the top of his bench down at the commotion below. “And how is it that you propose to pay these numerous debts?”

 

At this the man opened the box and inside I could see from the gleam emanating within, that it was gold. I was shocked as were the creditors in the room. 

 

“It is full and final settlement of all of the prisoner’s debts” the man continued. “I wish to lodge this payment into the court bank”. 

 

The Judge appeared to be relieved at the possible conclusion to the day’s proceedings. Grabbing his gavel, he slammed it into the bench. “Done!” he proclaimed. “The Court will take the payment into the Court reserves. The money can be used to improve the infrastructure of this good city, a use which will benefit all the Creditors greatly. All the debtor’s debts are to be forthwith counted as paid for. The Creditors’ claims are hereby dismissed. Guard, unlock the prisoner and hand her over to this man! And call the next case Registrar”. 

 

It all happened so quickly. I was hardly aware of the indignant cries of my creditors, who it seemed would not be receiving the satisfaction they had hoped for their many services. My mind was spinning as the court guard shackled my feet and removed my handcuffs from the accused’s seat and tied me to this man. I found myself following the man out of the courtroom. My mind was racing. Who was this man, was this good news? He had just paid for ALL my debts, where did he get the money? Now I was his – would he be a good master? Could I trust him? There was something honest and trustworthy in his eyes but yet, how could I be certain? 

 

Upon reaching the front door of the courthouse, I blinked as the sun was peaking between the clouds to spread its rays upon my face. 

 

The man did not speak, but he turned to me and taking the key the jailor had given him, he unlocked my handcuffs. Then, to my surprise and shock he knelt to the ground and unshackled the chains from around my feet. I was completely free. I could have run away… I could… but all I could do was stand there, rooted to the spot, gazing at this man. I had so many questions. 

 

“Sir, how could you pay my debt?” I asked him. Still kneeling, he looked into my eyes and said “my Father is very wealthy and powerful, and all of his resources and influence was mine. Some time ago, I chose to give up my position, power, influence and wealth, in fact, my very life, so that I would have the means to set slaves free from captivity”.  

 

“And now you release me?” I asked him, “surely, I belong to you now…”

 

“Yes” he said. “And it is my greatest desire that you should choose to follow me for the rest of your life. But I will never force you. This must be a choice of your own free will.” At this my mind spun, could he possibly mean what he said? 

 

“But sir,” I asked, “why should you choose to pay such a great sum, for me” I gulped. He must know who I was. There could be no hiding. “All of my accusers, everything they said about me, was true…”

 

“I know.” Rising to his feet, the man was looking into my eyes in such a deep way that I had to turn away. “I have known you, before you were born. I have known your family your friends, your school, your career, all of your paths in life, every decision you have made which brought you to this point. I have known you and I have loved you, perfectly. I have always had a plan for your life. A purpose, a mission that only you could fulfil. I know all of your decisions, failures and wrongs. But now, if you give me your life, I can use all of this and redeem it for good. If you come to me and seek me for your worth, value and hope, I will fulfil you! If you give me these bitter memories, and all your failings, I will forgive you and set you free. If you listen to me, I will teach you that you are fearfully and wonderfully you are made. It is my greatest desire that you should chose to come to me and listen to my voice all the days of your life. It is my hope that you should find your identity and worth in what I say about you and not in anyone else’s opinion. But the choice, is yours”. 

 

I could scarcely take in all that he said, it was just too good to be true. I had never heard such words from anyone, not my parents, not my family not my friends, not any of my Creditors. They were such wonderful words and I knew as I looked into his eyes that they were true. That he meant every single one. How could it be that I had looked in so many toxic places when there was such a man who was the answer to all of my problems, issues and fears? 

 

As though reading my thoughts the man said, “if you follow me, I will help you to set other debtors free. Your experiences will bear great weight, when you tell them about me.” 

 

Something was rising in my throat and I could not quite stop or contain it, what was it? And then for the first time in years I was laughing. And yet the laughter was so deep and pure and mixed with more love and acceptance than I had ever felt in my life that the laughter was now tears. I felt like I was tangibly tasting freedom in my mouth, and it was the sweetest taste I had ever known. And then, he was embracing me. And then his tears were falling on my head. 

 

I followed him away from the courtroom that day. I followed him over the river that kept hurrying on. Perhaps it was oblivious to the grand orchestra that was playing, proclaiming my freedom and liberation. The sun was striking the water so that it glowed. As I followed joyfully in this man’s footsteps, I knew I would never be the same again.