The Good Owner

Yes, Rachel suggests it.

They sit down on twisty chairs in a nook, amongst colourful leafage, to drink their rum punches.

A hummingbird hums, somewhere near Gaius's ear.

Rachel continues her story:

I opened a popular tavern in Canary Street, and by the 1780s I owned five properties, valued at thirteen hundred pounds.

By tavern, I imagine you mean...?

Yes, a brothel. And I had my own slaves. There now, what do you think of that?

The hummingbird stops humming.

It was obviously a long time ago, says Gaius.

He takes a sip of rum punch. Ahh! It is flavoured with freshly squeezed fruit juice. Mango, orange, and a touch of coconut, if his taste buds don't deceive him.....

I always ask people that in my lectures, says Rachel. They never know what to say. Then they write long essays, attempting to absolve me, because of my circumstances.

Being polite, says Gaius. As for myself, you must remember that I am a Roman. I too owned slaves. It was the norm in those times. Our theory, if there was a theory, was that it was kinder to enslave than to exterminate. Also more productive. The Greeks made excellent doctors.

The hummingbird hums off, not liking this turn of conversation.

That is a point, says Rachel. My case was less clear cut, ethically. Did you own a large property?

I did, says Gaius. I had a villa in Laurentum, as well as a house in Rome.

And what did your slaves do? asks Rachel.

No idea, says Gaius. Kept things running. Oh and of course! I had a slave read to me as I was writing, and another as an amanuensis. That's why these days I can never lay my hands on a pencil.

What? says Rachel. You still use a pencil?

Julia and Griff wander up.

Hey! Says Julia. You two seem to be getting on like old buddies.

Griff sits down heavily, on a twisty chair. Half his drink spills.

We've seen two green monkeys, says Julia, And a lizard, and three kinds of butterflies.

We saw a Mimic, says Rachel. I was telling Gaius how they mimic the Monarch for protection.

She was, says Gaius.

Shall we continue on down? says Julia. It's a sinkhole, dark and mysterious at the bottom. Then we have to pop in and see Anthony. And after that, Bathsheba Beach. So we can't sit here all morning gassing.

This is true, so they all stand up, leaving four empty glasses on the table.

In some stories, a subsequent event would occur, involving the glasses, the glasses having been mentioned.

But in this case it doesn't.

Other than this: The humming bird returns and hovers above them for a second. Then flits off.

Later, much later, Anthony sends down a slave to retrieve them.

Just kidding. He comes down to retrieve them himself.