Joe and Tomás followed Charles along a cobblestone path to a door on the house’s south side. First, Charles opened the screen door, then the heavier wooden one, letting the two friends inside. They stood in a large kitchen, where two other servants were chopping vegetables.
They descended into the cellar and deposited the boxes of fish. “Right this way.” Charles insisted when they came back up, gesturing towards the door leading to the servant quarters.
The long, utilitarian room had white walls and a grey cement floor. At the far end was a wood-fired stove next to a bathroom with three sinks, three toilet stalls, and two showers. Beds with crisp white sheets and blue wool blankets lined the walls. They looked quite comfortable.
Continue reading The Obelisk Chapter 2 – Dinner
The fishery was a miserable place, a cavernous building nestled on the Boston waterfront, in an industrial sprawl of concrete and steel. The place was blanketed with the thick smell of fish guts, tinged with the metallic odor of rust and the gritty scent of coal ash.
This was not where Joe Bramovich and Tomás Marcos thought they would end up when they left their hometown back in Maryland. Tomás and Joe were indentured servants, bound by law to labor for their proprietors until their contracts were completed, under threat of starvation, imprisonment, torture, and death.
Continue reading The Obelisk Chapter 1 – Fish
Tomás slept, and he dreamed of a better world. In his dreams, people were truly free, and they wanted for nothing. No one was hungry, no one was homeless, no one’s life was devoid of opportunities for meaning or joy and when anyone got sick, or other tragedy befell them, everyone organized help, with no questions asked or conditions demanded.
The village in his dreams was part of a vast community, encompassing millions across a wide swath of the globe. This community had built a world which Tomás, whose world was one of suffering and struggle, called a utopia.
Continue reading Tomás Dreams of Harvest