The Life of Koru, Chapter 47
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Playing golf, riding horses, and listening to opera are well-known posh activities, but have you ever tried playing golf on horseback while an opera singer serenades you from the 18th hole? This is how Sir Reginald had been spending his last couple of days, in a desperate attempt to keep himself entertained. Being rich becomes tedious after a while, so you have to invent new extravagant activities to maintain interest.
There is a prejudice against wealthy individuals, suggesting that they never encounter hardship in their lives. This is totally false! Imagine the plight of a multimillionaire who cannot find his gem-studded golden straw one day -- how is he going to drink his 2000-shilling tropical cocktail? He is either forced to drink directly from the glass, or die of thirst on his private yacht! Compare this to a koru slave who is happy to drink water from a puddle in order to quench his thirst! It's hard to say who has a better life: the koru slave or the multimillionaire?
Sir Reginald Nnamani was thinking about all these existential questions and philosophical conundrums that morning, when he received his son, Sir Julian, and Sir Kenneth at his palace, for a very lavish breakfast.
"I heard from Chief Mazi that you are really enjoying yourselves, Julian!" Sir Reginald said.
"Oh, of course we do, father!" Lil Massa laughed. "Your plantations never disappoint!"
The breakfast was a decadent affair: French croissants dusted with chocolate flakes, caviar-infused scrambled eggs served in porcelain cups, and freshly squeezed juice from rare tropical fruits.
"Can I ask you a favor, dad?" Lil Massa said at some point.
"Sure, Julian! What is it?"
"I was really impressed by the work of our goldsmith, Master Eamon. It resonated with me so much, that I was wondering if we can set him free from slavery and help him become a true citizen of the Empire!"
Sir Reginald's lips trembled slightly as he struggled to find words.
"Umm, that's interesting!..." he said. "Ken, why don't you go to the balcony to admire... some of the plants there! I need to have a private conversation with my son..."
Sir Kenneth went outside to admire the plants. As soon as he was out, Sir Reginald started whispering full of rage:
"Julian, where the fuck did you get this idea?"
"He's not a koru, dad! Him being a slave is very weird, given how Black he looks!"
"We cannot free Master Eamon and there's an obvious reason why!"
"Why, dad?"
"He's your uncle, you fool! Master Eamon is my older half-brother, the bastard son of my father! If we allow him to become a Black citizen, then he will ask for his right to inherit his father. Well, these plantations are mine!"
"I didn't know, dad..."
"Do you ever know anything, Julian?" Sir Reginald asked with a scathing tone.
This comment left Lil Massa angry, with a sullen expression on his face.
"How come you are so altruistic all of a sudden?" Sir Reginald asked. "What's up with that?"
There was something fishy about Lil Massa's sudden display of compassion towards Master Eamon and Sir Reginald wanted to know what it was.
Have you ever felt like you should have remembered something, only to have it slip away from your mind? This is exactly how Peon felt that morning. He knew that something important happened during the previous night, but his memory was blank and unresponsive.
"Fuck it!" Peon thought. He was certain he would remember what it was, later that day.
He started the work by engraving floral models on some golden bracelets, using a fine-tipped burin. The delicacy of these bracelets contrasted so much with his large calloused hands that he felt like an intruder. It felt unreal. Despite this feeling, he found a strange comfort in the process. Never in his miserable life, when he pulled a plough or herded buffalos covered in dirt, did he imagine that he would ever get to work with gold.
Suddenly he heard a knock on the door and he opened it. A well-dressed young woman, looking Black or mulatto, stood in the door frame smiling and holding a plate of cookies.
"Oh, he's not here?" she said.
Master Eamon was not in the room at that moment, as he had to discuss something in the courtyard.
"Missuh..." Peon answered, bowing.
"I am your Master's daughter. I brought some cookies for him!"
She placed a very good-looking plate of cookies on the table. Damn, these cookies looked good! They smelled of cinnamon and warm butter, their golden edges slightly crisp. Chocolate chips and sugar crystals were sprinkled generously on top, glistening like tiny jewels in the soft afternoon light. Peon was quite hungry at that hour of the day, so he made great efforts not to touch the plate of cookies. He knew he was not allowed to touch them. These cookies were only for Master Eamon.
"Suh Massa Eamon, yer daughter wuz here and she left you a plate of cookies!" Peon said when the goldsmith entered the room.
"What are you talking about, boy? What daughter?"
"Umm..."
"My daughter has died almost a year ago! Are you making some kind of joke?"
"Nosuh, Massa Eamon! I'se saw her and she left a plate of..."
The plate was no longer there. How could it disappear?
"I think you're losing your mind boy!" Master Eamon said. Maybe you should go back to the plantations. Working with gold is not for you..."
Peon fell silent, overwhelmed by guilt and confusion. But after a few minutes, he opened his mouth, asking:
"Suh, could it have been a ghostie?"
"Only dumbasses like you believe in ghosties!"
"But, suh..."
"How did she look like, boy? The girl that you saw."
Peon started to describe her looks with his rudimentary language, but his uncultured words were enough to shake Master Eamon to his core.
"Amara..." he whispered. "I want to know how you saw her! Can you see other ghosts? Do you have any other powers, boy? Tell me!"
"Suh, I'se don't have..." Peon mumbled, but Master Eamon slapped him immediately.
"Don't lie to me, boy! You have to tell me everything!"
"Suh, I'se don't have..."
Another slap.
Master Eamon grabbed Peon's cock.
"You have an unusually large pecker, boy! It's clear you are not an ordinary koru!"
"I'se very ordinary, suh Massa Eamon suh! I'se swear!"
"No, no! I am sure that you hide something from me! Show me how you communicate with the spirits, with the netherworld! NOW!"
Peon had no idea what to do. He recalled once seeing a koru shaman standing in the "obeying monkey" position and banging his head on the ground. Desperate to appease Master Eamon, he dropped to his knees and attempted to mimic the shaman's actions, positioning his hands on the ground and bowing his head low. He then started hitting his head to the hard floor in a rhythmical manner and murmuring:
"Oh, ghostie-ghosties! Come to me, ghostie-ghosties!"
"Here is my second plate of cookies, dad, but I think we should rather go! Sir Reginald wants you dead!"
Peon didn't need to raise his head from the ground to know that it was Amara speaking.