‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
53
A soft tapping is what awoke Taylor the next morning. As he struggled to open his eyes, he looked up to see another pair looking in through the gate at him. Carefully so as not to spook the child, he rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up. No sooner had his head left the hay did the eyes disappear in a flurry of giggles.
The sound of childish laughter had become so foreign to him that it took a moment to register. But when it did, it made him smile for the first time in a long time.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position, already eyeing off the hay and wondering if it’d be a good idea to eat.
It wasn’t overly long before he heard some footsteps actually stop at his door. He looked up to see a man of African descent opening the gate, pausing to look him over. Taylor immediately noticed the gold band around his neck, signalling that he was a slave himself.
The man asked him something in another language. Not knowing what he’d said, Taylor just gave him a confused look. He tried again with the same words but when there was no response he shook his head. He came into the stable and made his way to where the chain was attached to the wall. Moving some sort of lever, he managed to disconnect it. Realising he was about to move, Taylor stood and brushed himself off so that he was ready. The African waited until he saw that Taylor was ready before timidly indicating for him to follow him out. Taylor just nodded in reply before he was led out.
Now that the sun was in the sky, if only just, he faltered a little when he saw the view. The stables were set above a sort of valley with a view of the countryside below that he hadn’t been expecting. When there was a tug on his collar he stumbled forward, the African taking a moment to realise what had happened. He waited until Taylor nodded again before continuing on.
He led him down the same track he’d walked up the previous night, diverting to the left when they reached the bottom. When they passed through a side door Taylor found himself relieved when they entered a bustling kitchen. This, he’d been prepared for.
There were six other young men in the kitchen, all fussing over different stoves and benches. A great deal of cold food had already been prepared off to the side. Expecting to be put to work straight away, he was a little taken aback when his chain was secured to a post in a corner. Looking to the African for guidance, the man indicated his eyes and then the men already working. Realising that he was simply supposed to watch, Taylor gave another nod and obediently stood back in the corner as the African began going through to check the boys’ progress.
Taylor realised very quickly that none of them spoke English. Or if they were able to, they didn’t. He was barely able to make out a few Spanish words, but got the distinct impression that it could have been a mix of languages in the room.
By the time they’d completed their tasks, there was a right feast ready to be moved out. No sooner had they finished did they begin pass the trays onto what appeared to be wait staff. Taylor watched curiously before the African came to collect him, letting him follow the wait staff out of the kitchen and into the main dining hall. It was already filled with people from multiple ethnicities and of all ages. The wait staff handed out the platters and the children began digging in as Taylor was led down a back row towards the centre of the longest table. When his eyes fell on the woman he knew where he was heading.
The African led him to her, and she said something to him in Spanish before dismissing him.
“Sit,” she instructed, indicating for Taylor to sit on the floor behind her chair.
The sound of childish laughter had become so foreign to him that it took a moment to register. But when it did, it made him smile for the first time in a long time.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position, already eyeing off the hay and wondering if it’d be a good idea to eat.
It wasn’t overly long before he heard some footsteps actually stop at his door. He looked up to see a man of African descent opening the gate, pausing to look him over. Taylor immediately noticed the gold band around his neck, signalling that he was a slave himself.
The man asked him something in another language. Not knowing what he’d said, Taylor just gave him a confused look. He tried again with the same words but when there was no response he shook his head. He came into the stable and made his way to where the chain was attached to the wall. Moving some sort of lever, he managed to disconnect it. Realising he was about to move, Taylor stood and brushed himself off so that he was ready. The African waited until he saw that Taylor was ready before timidly indicating for him to follow him out. Taylor just nodded in reply before he was led out.
Now that the sun was in the sky, if only just, he faltered a little when he saw the view. The stables were set above a sort of valley with a view of the countryside below that he hadn’t been expecting. When there was a tug on his collar he stumbled forward, the African taking a moment to realise what had happened. He waited until Taylor nodded again before continuing on.
He led him down the same track he’d walked up the previous night, diverting to the left when they reached the bottom. When they passed through a side door Taylor found himself relieved when they entered a bustling kitchen. This, he’d been prepared for.
There were six other young men in the kitchen, all fussing over different stoves and benches. A great deal of cold food had already been prepared off to the side. Expecting to be put to work straight away, he was a little taken aback when his chain was secured to a post in a corner. Looking to the African for guidance, the man indicated his eyes and then the men already working. Realising that he was simply supposed to watch, Taylor gave another nod and obediently stood back in the corner as the African began going through to check the boys’ progress.
Taylor realised very quickly that none of them spoke English. Or if they were able to, they didn’t. He was barely able to make out a few Spanish words, but got the distinct impression that it could have been a mix of languages in the room.
By the time they’d completed their tasks, there was a right feast ready to be moved out. No sooner had they finished did they begin pass the trays onto what appeared to be wait staff. Taylor watched curiously before the African came to collect him, letting him follow the wait staff out of the kitchen and into the main dining hall. It was already filled with people from multiple ethnicities and of all ages. The wait staff handed out the platters and the children began digging in as Taylor was led down a back row towards the centre of the longest table. When his eyes fell on the woman he knew where he was heading.
The African led him to her, and she said something to him in Spanish before dismissing him.
“Sit,” she instructed, indicating for Taylor to sit on the floor behind her chair.