Our eyes met, dark brown, surprisingly soft for such a majestic face. “I… I don’t know what I want, miss. “I am a slave. What I want doesn’t matter, in general. This frankness was both brutal and fair.
My father squeezed his throat and said, “Maybe it would be better if you spoke in private. I’m going to my office. “Then he went out and closed the door, leaving me alone with the huge six-foot-ten slave who was supposed to be my husband.
We remained silent for hours.
Finally, I asked him, pointing to the chair opposite: “Will you sit down? “
Josiah looked at the delicate piece of furniture with embroidered cushions, then at its imposing silhouette. “I don’t think this chair can stand me, miss. “So the couch. “He sat cautiously on the edge. Even sitting, he was significantly taller than me.
His hands rested on his knees; each finger was a small, calloused, stiff bump.
Are you afraid of me, miss? Should I have some? No miss. I would never hurt you, I swear. They call you a monster. She shivered. Yes Miss. Because of my size and because I’m scary. But I’m not a monster.
I never hurt anyone, not intentionally. “But you could, if you wanted to. “I could”, she said, looking at me again, “but I won’t. Not yours. Not to someone who doesn’t deserve it. “
Something in his eyes –a sadness, a resignation, a tenderness that contrasted with his appearance – convinced me. “Josiah, I want to be honest with you. I don’t want that any more than you do. My father is desperate. I’m not cut out for marriage.
He thinks you’re the only solution. “
But if we are to do this, I need to know: are you dangerous? — No, miss. — Are you cruel? — No, miss. — Are you going to hurt me? — Never, miss. I swear on everything I love.
His seriousness was undeniable; she believed what she said. — So I have another question.
“Can you read? “The question made him shiver. Fear was visible on his face; reading was forbidden to slaves in Virginia. But after a long time, he said softly: “Yes, miss. I learned on my own.
I know it’s not allowed, but… I couldn’t help it. “
Books are doors to places I will never go.
What are you reading? Everything I find. Old newspapers, sometimes borrowed books. I read slowly; I haven’t learned much, but I read. Have you read Shakespeare? His eyes widened. Yes Miss. There’s an old copy in the library that no one touches.
“I read them at night, when everyone is asleep. “”What are your works? ” “Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest. “His voice came alive despite herself. “The Storm is my favorite. “
Prospero rules the island through magic, Ariel longs for freedom, Caliban is treated like a monster, but perhaps he is more human than anyone. He stopped abruptly. “Excuse me, miss. “
“I talk a lot. “No. “I smiled, a sincere smile for the first time in this strange conversation. “Continue. Tell me about Caliban. “
And an extraordinary event occurred. Josiah, the enormous slave nicknamed the Beast, began to argue with Shakespeare with an intelligence that would have impressed university professors.
He said: Caliban is called the Beast, but Shakespeare shows us that he was a slave, that his island was stolen from him and that he was deprived of his mother’s magic. “
Prospero calls him the Beast, but Prospero came to the island and took everything, including Caliban himself. So who is the real beast? — You look at Caliban with pity. — I see Caliban as a human being.
He was treated inhumanely, but he remains a human being.
He paused. “Like… like slaves. “Yes”, I finally said.
