Aaron Brown
I rode horseback on my black stallion, during one of these rare occasions. The weather was warm and calm in this town of Everstung. A Northern town with a busy populace, Everstung contained buildings of every kind, taverns, barbershops, brothels, and stables. On the outskirts were fields of hills, and small wooded areas were plentiful. It wasn’t often I was permitted to leave the manor and be present among the commoners. At present I had an errand to complete for my father, saying he wanted me to make a “special purchase” at the market. A usual task for his errand boys, not myself. Still I welcomed the breath of fresh air and another experience of public life. All the experience I had came from these rare trips outside and to my backyard.
Everstung looked exquisite as I laid eyes upon it. Voices of the many townsfolk were rampant in the air. Shortly, crowds of people came into sight on the marketplace. People stood around stalls, auctioning off their items, and conversing. I knew people here purchase products of all sorts, from medicine to guns. There was one time I bought an ointment from my father when he was plagued by a genetic skin disease. It worked decently, just as the salesman had described. Now I hope to counter that same honesty today.
“What was it again that my father wanted?”
The note in my pocket simply read, “GORILLA.”
Gorilla, like the animal? Gorilla didn’t mean anything to me other than the animal. They were savage beasts that ate mostly fruit and plants, but could grow to a size twice that of a man. Assuming my father wanted such a beast was unrealistic, but worth a thought I suppose. Clarification would have been helpful, though he may have had an issue with that. Hmm…whatever it was, a gorilla was what I needed to bring home. Surely someone here knew what it was.
Everstung looked exquisite as I laid eyes upon it. Voices of the many townsfolk were rampant in the air. Shortly, crowds of people came into sight on the marketplace. People stood around stalls, auctioning off their items, and conversing. I knew people here purchase products of all sorts, from medicine to guns. There was one time I bought an ointment from my father when he was plagued by a genetic skin disease. It worked decently, just as the salesman had described. Now I hope to counter that same honesty today.
“What was it again that my father wanted?”
The note in my pocket simply read, “GORILLA.”
Gorilla, like the animal? Gorilla didn’t mean anything to me other than the animal. They were savage beasts that ate mostly fruit and plants, but could grow to a size twice that of a man. Assuming my father wanted such a beast was unrealistic, but worth a thought I suppose. Clarification would have been helpful, though he may have had an issue with that. Hmm…whatever it was, a gorilla was what I needed to bring home. Surely someone here knew what it was.
I walked around the marketplace, sorting out the boisterous voices. People were shouting out in every direction, and a pathway through the crowd was unclear.
“Fresh produce,” I heard on my left.
“Come get your meat from here,” from the right.
A number of pale bodies impeded my walking repeatedly. I had to push through in order to move.
“Best lutes are sold here!”
“We have children’s clothes at low prices.”
Merchants and customers were linking up like a series of chains. For a while I searched to find my attachment unsuccessfully.
“Tamed dogs over here!”
There seemed to be some order in the market. First there was food, then tools, and now animals. If this gorilla was indeed that, I should soon find out. Yet, I walked for some time longer before finally hearing of one.
“Get your gorilla from no where else, but here!”
The auctioneer was standing atop a cart yelling out to everyone. He was an old man dressed with a blue top hat, jacket, white dress pants, and a cane. His voice was deep and charismatic. Beside the large wooden cart he stood on, were three tall steel cages. Two were empty and the other cage was fully concealed by a cloth. There were no others standing around him, and it looked as if he already made two sales. When the old man saw me, another potential customer, I immediately took his attention.
“Young sir there, may I interest you in buying a gorilla?”
I nodded to him, feeling coy at this moment. This could not be an actual gorilla.
“What exactly is this gorilla?”
The man looked at me suspiciously, smiled and hoped down to me.
“Young man, are you Jamieson?”
“Yes I am.”
“Oh my, you’re Mr. Wilkin’s boy. I could tell from your speech and dress. Elegant indeed, young man. Your father is a fine politician, that he is, and well known too. Just about a month ago he pulled me out of financial debt with my business…”
“Sir can you please just tell me about the gorilla?”
“Oh, of course, it’s just that the town hardly ever sees you outside your home. Mr. Wilkin never talks about you either.”
He rubbed his white chin hair and looked at me. I ignored him, not sure how to react. If I was allowed to venture out, it would occur more often, but I am told that in life these people are beneath me, and that interacting with them on a regular basis is detrimental to my high status. I am not sure how much truth was embedded in that belief, but that’s how I was raised.
“Okay young man. Well if you’re interested in getting this here gorilla, know that this is a rare specimen indeed. I’ve sold two already as you see. Now this last gorilla is just as exotic. He’s fresh from the savage jungles and he’s strong too!”
The man gave me his whole sale’s speech. Even with all the man’s talking about this animal, I had yet to see or hear this gorilla.
“Why don’t I hear him making any sounds,” I asked.
“Oh, he’s just the quiet type Jamieson. Here have a look.”
The auctioneer took off the cloth, revealing a hairy black beast standing in the cage. He was brown skinned with dark black hair all over his body. The brutish male had a head full of shagginess, a muscular body, with dirt and bruises everywhere. The hands were thick and wide. Its back had a bit of lumped deformed muscle formed at the top. Then I realized it wasn’t a beast really, it was a man. He was even naked, but showed no care to hide it. And worst than knowing he was human, I recognized him as… as Afoon.
“But this isn’t a gorilla,” I said. My face revealed extreme disapproval and disgust.
“Well, what on Earth do you mean Jamieson? That’s a gorilla and you can see that unmistakably. I mean look at it. The brown skin, hairy beastly figure…”
“No it isn’t. I know…” I had to hold my tongue before I revealed information that no one else knew, except Afoon, my father, and myself. Or maybe Afoon didn’t remember because of that incident back then.
I thought back to my teenage years, to the time I was sick with the same skin disease that had effected my father. There was no one at home to take care of me, as the staff of servants were busy with things unrelated to me. My father was not the one for caring, as I know. However, there was this one servant, a dark-skinned servant of a mentally challenged background, whose name was Afoon. He took care of me even though he was never suppose to. I didn’t actually need anyone, but he was generous enough to assist. As that occurred, my father had suspected Afoon of being disobedient when he wouldn’t see him in the field laboring. He would come check on me in my room and would almost catch Afoon standing at my bedside. Usually, Afoon hid successfully in the closet or under the bed after hearing the approaching footsteps.
But the one time that I will never forget, my father caught Afoon applying ointment to my skin. He was accused of doing the unthinkable and was commanded to remain right where he was. Father left temporarily and returned with a fireplace poker, used to beat Afoon severely right in front of me. After the beating was done, Afoon was beyond wounded. His brain had been so badly hurt that he developed amnesia. I knew so because my father told me, just as he blamed me for making him hurt Afoon. Afoon’s condition was so bad that he had forgotten I was ever sick. He no longer came to visit me, even as I started to get better. However, the condition did have a benefit. He had forgotten how loyal he once was to my father. So subliminally he would disrespect my father and not complete tasks he was suppose to. I noticed the change in Afoon’s behavior and predicted what would be coming next. Before long Afoon had escaped. I saw him sneaking out the manor one night from my bedroom window. My father had searched for him for a while, but gave up caring after some point.
Afoon had escaped back then, but now things must have changed. Escaping a system of oppression in society is logically next to impossible.
“Think on it,” the auctioneer said. “For your father I’ll sell it at a discount price of 5000 currency bills versus the initial 7000.
“You think on it Jamieson.”
He touched my shoulder and went back to auctioning off the gorilla; now acknowledging he was about to make a sale so they should hurry. I still didn’t know how to react. Here in front of me, a man being called a gorilla was encaged. I have been taught that Afoon’s race were the worst of the worst to everyone. I always accepted that, especially from my father. But no one could tell me why that was so, other than “we” are just vastly more superior. What do they even mean by that? The look on his face was mixed with desperation, and anguish. No matter how bad his amnesia was, he had to know his predicament completely.
Empathy swept over my entire being. I knew Afoon, and the kindness he once shared with me. He was a human like everyone and deserved the same considerations. Maybe no one wanted to acknowledge that, but I had he personal experience with Afoon to grant him such. So what was there left to do? I could buy him and set him free. Father would undoubtedly punish Afoon for running if I bought him back. Freeing him would be a crime against the auctioneer, and society. This is a social system where everyone is a part of it. It would even mean a violation against my father. That’s…inconceivable, maybe. It’s law that once a person is a slave, they are always that. I’ve only seen people like Afoon as such. And I don’t have the ability to change society…Do I?
Afoon stood there with his back resting on the cage. He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were titled down, focused more on the ground than anything. I wanted to whisper something to him, but wasn’t sure how the auctioneer would take it.
“Will I take him home myself,” I asked the auctioneer.
“No not possible, you’re celebrity here in Everstung. I’ll have my guys tote the cage up to your father’s manor. What’ll it be then? Are you buying?”
I ignored him and again wondered what to do next. Freeing him was my desire, but how? I took a good look at this auctioneer. Frail, old, and professionally dressed, and around his neck was a key, presumably to the cage. It would be a risky feat, but one that I’d contemplate in order to free this tortured, mistreated, and enslaved man. But what if I were wrong? That could be the key to his home, some chest. Is it worth the risk?
There was still one problem to acknowledge. How could I possibly explain my doing to my father? He trusted me with this errand, not getting myself incarcerated in the town jail. He expected me to always see his wishes fulfilled, and when his desires were not fulfilled, everyone knew about it at least the workers in the manor as he lashed out. Every request he gave anyone was a command. Even as his son, I felt less of a person when he was present. This high societal status he carried with him. Now that I think about was more like an unworldly amount of arrogance.
My father’s distaste made me remember everyone else’s hatred. I looked at the people, their skin tone suddenly so much more apparent to me. White faces, white bodies, and white people were going about their lives. I shared the same color skin, but not the same feelings. Their selfishness left them oblivious to the pain of those they considered subordinate. But in fact, they are society; they are the leaders of the present world and future. So again, how would my choice to free this man effect society? I would be seen as the villain, the traitor. But yet, somehow I was making a moral decision. Some divine feeling inside told me that. Maybe I haven’t been out of my house enough to know everything about society, but I am aware enough through my advanced schooling, plus my experience in town, plus my relationship with Afoon. And for me intolerance was illogical.
I sweated greatly, standing there in deep thought. My hands shook nervously. If I do it, there won’t be a moment to regret it. Decisions such as this one almost never happen. Now was a chance to return a favor for this man who once cared for me, when my own father didn’t dare. I didn’t understand why society treated him this way, but I could do my part.
I looked at the caged man again.
“Freedom,” I spoke quickly and quietly. His eyes met mine. With a turn I took another study of the auctioneer. In my head I planned out what I could do to get the key. Paced my steps, decided where to jump, and where to grab, and just like that I went for the key.
“THEIF,” the old man yelled.
His body fell down under my push. Quickly, I inserted the key in the cage’s lock. Afoon bolted out of the cage and away. Instinctively, I followed. I was unsure of what I was doing, but there was no need for me to stay in this town, or with my father. I needed a new life. And if they caught me I would be killed certainly or put in prison. People yelled, “Beast on the loose!” And guards were behind us in pursuit, asking for quick surrender.
We kept running, I was behind him, struggling to match his speed. Shortly we were in the outskirts of the town running towards some woods. Afoon gained greater speed when he began to move on all four limbs. He moved like an animal. There was significant distance between us when he reached the woods and when I did. Before I could even get there I heard gunshots blasting my way. I hurried into the woods, hiding behind the brush and still moving. I had lost sight of Afoon, but kept on running, hoping to catch sight of him again. I made it some distance into the woods when I heard a snap behind me. I turned and was attacked by a dark monster. Two large hands mauled my head repeatedly. The nails scratched at my skin. A sound coming from the beast’s breath was nothing, but ghastly. I protected my face, but could not fend the brute. Then I fell to the ground, still taking hits.
Then the beast said, “White!”
“Stop, get off of me,” I yelled.
It was Afoon I noticed, but Afoon did not recognize me. He kept grunting and shouting “White!” His attack continued and I struggled there. The savagery he was displaying was unspeakable. He was a beast, a terrifying black beast. His mouth was open, showing me his ragged yellow teeth and a tongue that dropped slobber as he fought me. Never did Afoon stop saying “White.” That’s all I could hear from him. I felt no sense of humanity inside him. And because of that I was angry, not with him, but society. They made this beast of society.
“Afoon,” I said aggressively.
Then he stopped and looked at me, still position on top.
“It’s me Afoon. It’s Jamieson.”
Then he hit me brazenly in my face. I blacked out instantly. When I came to there was something else staring at me, a white man holding a gun to my face.
Bang.
“Fresh produce,” I heard on my left.
“Come get your meat from here,” from the right.
A number of pale bodies impeded my walking repeatedly. I had to push through in order to move.
“Best lutes are sold here!”
“We have children’s clothes at low prices.”
Merchants and customers were linking up like a series of chains. For a while I searched to find my attachment unsuccessfully.
“Tamed dogs over here!”
There seemed to be some order in the market. First there was food, then tools, and now animals. If this gorilla was indeed that, I should soon find out. Yet, I walked for some time longer before finally hearing of one.
“Get your gorilla from no where else, but here!”
The auctioneer was standing atop a cart yelling out to everyone. He was an old man dressed with a blue top hat, jacket, white dress pants, and a cane. His voice was deep and charismatic. Beside the large wooden cart he stood on, were three tall steel cages. Two were empty and the other cage was fully concealed by a cloth. There were no others standing around him, and it looked as if he already made two sales. When the old man saw me, another potential customer, I immediately took his attention.
“Young sir there, may I interest you in buying a gorilla?”
I nodded to him, feeling coy at this moment. This could not be an actual gorilla.
“What exactly is this gorilla?”
The man looked at me suspiciously, smiled and hoped down to me.
“Young man, are you Jamieson?”
“Yes I am.”
“Oh my, you’re Mr. Wilkin’s boy. I could tell from your speech and dress. Elegant indeed, young man. Your father is a fine politician, that he is, and well known too. Just about a month ago he pulled me out of financial debt with my business…”
“Sir can you please just tell me about the gorilla?”
“Oh, of course, it’s just that the town hardly ever sees you outside your home. Mr. Wilkin never talks about you either.”
He rubbed his white chin hair and looked at me. I ignored him, not sure how to react. If I was allowed to venture out, it would occur more often, but I am told that in life these people are beneath me, and that interacting with them on a regular basis is detrimental to my high status. I am not sure how much truth was embedded in that belief, but that’s how I was raised.
“Okay young man. Well if you’re interested in getting this here gorilla, know that this is a rare specimen indeed. I’ve sold two already as you see. Now this last gorilla is just as exotic. He’s fresh from the savage jungles and he’s strong too!”
The man gave me his whole sale’s speech. Even with all the man’s talking about this animal, I had yet to see or hear this gorilla.
“Why don’t I hear him making any sounds,” I asked.
“Oh, he’s just the quiet type Jamieson. Here have a look.”
The auctioneer took off the cloth, revealing a hairy black beast standing in the cage. He was brown skinned with dark black hair all over his body. The brutish male had a head full of shagginess, a muscular body, with dirt and bruises everywhere. The hands were thick and wide. Its back had a bit of lumped deformed muscle formed at the top. Then I realized it wasn’t a beast really, it was a man. He was even naked, but showed no care to hide it. And worst than knowing he was human, I recognized him as… as Afoon.
“But this isn’t a gorilla,” I said. My face revealed extreme disapproval and disgust.
“Well, what on Earth do you mean Jamieson? That’s a gorilla and you can see that unmistakably. I mean look at it. The brown skin, hairy beastly figure…”
“No it isn’t. I know…” I had to hold my tongue before I revealed information that no one else knew, except Afoon, my father, and myself. Or maybe Afoon didn’t remember because of that incident back then.
I thought back to my teenage years, to the time I was sick with the same skin disease that had effected my father. There was no one at home to take care of me, as the staff of servants were busy with things unrelated to me. My father was not the one for caring, as I know. However, there was this one servant, a dark-skinned servant of a mentally challenged background, whose name was Afoon. He took care of me even though he was never suppose to. I didn’t actually need anyone, but he was generous enough to assist. As that occurred, my father had suspected Afoon of being disobedient when he wouldn’t see him in the field laboring. He would come check on me in my room and would almost catch Afoon standing at my bedside. Usually, Afoon hid successfully in the closet or under the bed after hearing the approaching footsteps.
But the one time that I will never forget, my father caught Afoon applying ointment to my skin. He was accused of doing the unthinkable and was commanded to remain right where he was. Father left temporarily and returned with a fireplace poker, used to beat Afoon severely right in front of me. After the beating was done, Afoon was beyond wounded. His brain had been so badly hurt that he developed amnesia. I knew so because my father told me, just as he blamed me for making him hurt Afoon. Afoon’s condition was so bad that he had forgotten I was ever sick. He no longer came to visit me, even as I started to get better. However, the condition did have a benefit. He had forgotten how loyal he once was to my father. So subliminally he would disrespect my father and not complete tasks he was suppose to. I noticed the change in Afoon’s behavior and predicted what would be coming next. Before long Afoon had escaped. I saw him sneaking out the manor one night from my bedroom window. My father had searched for him for a while, but gave up caring after some point.
Afoon had escaped back then, but now things must have changed. Escaping a system of oppression in society is logically next to impossible.
“Think on it,” the auctioneer said. “For your father I’ll sell it at a discount price of 5000 currency bills versus the initial 7000.
“You think on it Jamieson.”
He touched my shoulder and went back to auctioning off the gorilla; now acknowledging he was about to make a sale so they should hurry. I still didn’t know how to react. Here in front of me, a man being called a gorilla was encaged. I have been taught that Afoon’s race were the worst of the worst to everyone. I always accepted that, especially from my father. But no one could tell me why that was so, other than “we” are just vastly more superior. What do they even mean by that? The look on his face was mixed with desperation, and anguish. No matter how bad his amnesia was, he had to know his predicament completely.
Empathy swept over my entire being. I knew Afoon, and the kindness he once shared with me. He was a human like everyone and deserved the same considerations. Maybe no one wanted to acknowledge that, but I had he personal experience with Afoon to grant him such. So what was there left to do? I could buy him and set him free. Father would undoubtedly punish Afoon for running if I bought him back. Freeing him would be a crime against the auctioneer, and society. This is a social system where everyone is a part of it. It would even mean a violation against my father. That’s…inconceivable, maybe. It’s law that once a person is a slave, they are always that. I’ve only seen people like Afoon as such. And I don’t have the ability to change society…Do I?
Afoon stood there with his back resting on the cage. He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were titled down, focused more on the ground than anything. I wanted to whisper something to him, but wasn’t sure how the auctioneer would take it.
“Will I take him home myself,” I asked the auctioneer.
“No not possible, you’re celebrity here in Everstung. I’ll have my guys tote the cage up to your father’s manor. What’ll it be then? Are you buying?”
I ignored him and again wondered what to do next. Freeing him was my desire, but how? I took a good look at this auctioneer. Frail, old, and professionally dressed, and around his neck was a key, presumably to the cage. It would be a risky feat, but one that I’d contemplate in order to free this tortured, mistreated, and enslaved man. But what if I were wrong? That could be the key to his home, some chest. Is it worth the risk?
There was still one problem to acknowledge. How could I possibly explain my doing to my father? He trusted me with this errand, not getting myself incarcerated in the town jail. He expected me to always see his wishes fulfilled, and when his desires were not fulfilled, everyone knew about it at least the workers in the manor as he lashed out. Every request he gave anyone was a command. Even as his son, I felt less of a person when he was present. This high societal status he carried with him. Now that I think about was more like an unworldly amount of arrogance.
My father’s distaste made me remember everyone else’s hatred. I looked at the people, their skin tone suddenly so much more apparent to me. White faces, white bodies, and white people were going about their lives. I shared the same color skin, but not the same feelings. Their selfishness left them oblivious to the pain of those they considered subordinate. But in fact, they are society; they are the leaders of the present world and future. So again, how would my choice to free this man effect society? I would be seen as the villain, the traitor. But yet, somehow I was making a moral decision. Some divine feeling inside told me that. Maybe I haven’t been out of my house enough to know everything about society, but I am aware enough through my advanced schooling, plus my experience in town, plus my relationship with Afoon. And for me intolerance was illogical.
I sweated greatly, standing there in deep thought. My hands shook nervously. If I do it, there won’t be a moment to regret it. Decisions such as this one almost never happen. Now was a chance to return a favor for this man who once cared for me, when my own father didn’t dare. I didn’t understand why society treated him this way, but I could do my part.
I looked at the caged man again.
“Freedom,” I spoke quickly and quietly. His eyes met mine. With a turn I took another study of the auctioneer. In my head I planned out what I could do to get the key. Paced my steps, decided where to jump, and where to grab, and just like that I went for the key.
“THEIF,” the old man yelled.
His body fell down under my push. Quickly, I inserted the key in the cage’s lock. Afoon bolted out of the cage and away. Instinctively, I followed. I was unsure of what I was doing, but there was no need for me to stay in this town, or with my father. I needed a new life. And if they caught me I would be killed certainly or put in prison. People yelled, “Beast on the loose!” And guards were behind us in pursuit, asking for quick surrender.
We kept running, I was behind him, struggling to match his speed. Shortly we were in the outskirts of the town running towards some woods. Afoon gained greater speed when he began to move on all four limbs. He moved like an animal. There was significant distance between us when he reached the woods and when I did. Before I could even get there I heard gunshots blasting my way. I hurried into the woods, hiding behind the brush and still moving. I had lost sight of Afoon, but kept on running, hoping to catch sight of him again. I made it some distance into the woods when I heard a snap behind me. I turned and was attacked by a dark monster. Two large hands mauled my head repeatedly. The nails scratched at my skin. A sound coming from the beast’s breath was nothing, but ghastly. I protected my face, but could not fend the brute. Then I fell to the ground, still taking hits.
Then the beast said, “White!”
“Stop, get off of me,” I yelled.
It was Afoon I noticed, but Afoon did not recognize me. He kept grunting and shouting “White!” His attack continued and I struggled there. The savagery he was displaying was unspeakable. He was a beast, a terrifying black beast. His mouth was open, showing me his ragged yellow teeth and a tongue that dropped slobber as he fought me. Never did Afoon stop saying “White.” That’s all I could hear from him. I felt no sense of humanity inside him. And because of that I was angry, not with him, but society. They made this beast of society.
“Afoon,” I said aggressively.
Then he stopped and looked at me, still position on top.
“It’s me Afoon. It’s Jamieson.”
Then he hit me brazenly in my face. I blacked out instantly. When I came to there was something else staring at me, a white man holding a gun to my face.
Bang.