Time Mocks Us All

                                    

                                          
    Frank was starting to lose his French. Since no one else in the household spoke French, the only words he heard of his native tongue came out of his own mouth. Frank prayed in French each night before bed, hoping that God would hear him. 
     He'd become accustomed to slavery, but he never stopped missing his family. His grandmother . . . Was she still alive? His wife, how was she doing? Had she been able to remarry? His daughter, was she well or had she been snatched from the world too soon? There was no way for Frank to know. 
    As his French grew rustier, his Greek improved. Eventually, he was able to stumble through passages of the New Testament, then read it fully, occasionally having to look over Biblical glosses. If he still had a question, he would go to Iris. Her knowledge of Greek and Latin was unrivaled.
      It was hard to measure time when he didn't most of his days indoors, quill and ink in hand as he wrote down holy words in his best handwriting. It was a painstaking progress. To copy a single manuscript, Iris had once told Frank, could take a year or longer. He was currently in the middle of his fourth manuscript, an illuminated prayer book. The drawings in it took considerable time; some of them he'd work on for days before they were right. 
     Iris said their work countered the forces of evil in the world. Frank thought he'd do better fighting evil away from this gloomy, oppressive room. Why couldn't he make the world a better place in the sunshine? Why couldn't he spread love and charity in France instead of here in Constantinople?
    Frank tried to tell himself not to suffer, but it was hard. One day, as he was copying the Book of Job, Frank reflected on how every mortal was fated to feel some pain in their life. Yet that pain was not distributed equally. Some vessels, like Job, carried far more than others. 
      Job's friends blamed him for his suffering. They told him he must have sinned to incur the wrath of God. It made Frank sick to read of Job's friends turning on him in his time of need. The prayer book he was copying claimed that Job served as an example to humanity — of how to bear the pain of existence instead of rebelling against it. Yet, this explanation left Frank unsatisfied. Job had rebelled against it; he had told the world that he would take God to court. Job had not meekly accepted his pain; so why was his story twisted as if he had?
     Frank thought of this the entire day and when he prayed that night, Frank prayed for an end to the injustice wrought upon him. "I am no Job, but I have suffered mightily," he said. "If you are a good God, then let me go. Free me of this pain."
    Frank had little confidence that his prayer would be heard, but a weight lifted from his chest merely in airing his case. 
***
    "They're freeing us all," Kinzie told Frank.
      "All of us?" he echoed in disbelief.
       "They want to get rid of all their earthly possessions and join a convent," Kinzie explained.
     This was something that had never made sense to Frank. Why was it always those who grew up wealthy who acted as if goods were meaningless? People in convents might act as if they were simple peasants living on the countryside, spreading the good works, but oftentimes there was a huge expense to even get into them. "I don't know about you, but I'm hoping to find a position somewhere as a maidservant," Kinzie said.
    Only then did Frank realize they — the slaves who has created the wealth and produced the labor the household lived off of — would be given nothing. Anger unfurled in his chest. Couldn't they gave at least spared a few coins for each of their former slaves? 
***
     Money became Frank's new master. He spent his days working hard, trying to save up for a voyage back to France. For an entire year he scrounged and saved and in one night, all of it was stolen by a thief. Struck by fate's cruelty, Frank fell to his knees and cried bitter tears, fearing that he'd never see home again.
    The next day he left Constantinople with only the clothes on his back and a knapsack. He walked northwest for months, asking for directions whenever he saw others. The landscapes changed. The days grew longer and then shorter and then longer again.
     After more than a year of wandering, Frank arrived in France. It was sweet to hear French again, though it was simultaneously strange. He had become so accustomed to being the only one who knew his native tongue that it now seemed foreign. 
    Returning home was a similar feeling. Frank wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. Children were running around and playing games, adults tended the fields, and cattle grazed. Everything was so ordinary; it made Frank's heart ache.
         Percy was the first one who recognized him. "Frank, is that you?"
       Frank nodded and the two hugged. "I'll go get Hazel!" Percy said and ran off.
     Frank's heart was thudding in his chest, anticipation and fear dancing together. Would Hazel be angry at him? Would she want him back? Had she remarried? Could he even be angry if she had?
     The sight of her took his breath away. Frank ran forward to his curly-haired wife and the two hugged. He let go of her and noticed two young girls staring up at him. "Kore and Fleur," Hazel said. "This is your father Frank."
    Frank looked at his two daughters — one whom he just met for the first time — and his heart swelled with equal joy and sorrow. Joy for the return to his family and sorrow that they had been depressed for so long. "What happened?" Hazel asked. "You we're gone for so long. I was told you were dead."
     Frank's heart twisted to hear her pain. "I was a slave for several years. After being freed, I tried to save up money to return home. One night someone stole all my savings, so I decided there was no way back except for walking."
   
    Hazel looked at Frank like the sole survivor of a shipwreck who has just come ashore. "Come home," she said softly. "We have much to discuss and catch up on. Your grandma is especially keen to give you a lecture."
    
    Frank nodded and followed his family home.