Demetrius' Story, Step 20

Step 20

Demetrius and Alter walked on in silence, Alter wishing he had words to ease the burden Demetrius carried and Demetrius seething in hurt, anger, and resentment. It seemed as if the sheep, sensing their bleakness, bleated mournfully. Clouds blew in from the northeast, shedding a smattering of rain, sharing in the overall gloom of the small party. 

Alter sighed, “I am sorry. That must be a painful memory.”

“It’s not the only thing,” slowly, haltingly with great sigh filled pauses, Demetrius told the rest of his story. Life as the slave of Manius started well. Demetrius' duties, while many, were not odious. His days were filled with chores, centered around the maintenance of Manius' personal equipment and clothing. Manius was often gone for days, taking care of Roman governmental business across the region. Those days were pleasant. But, then things slowly changed.

Manius came back from a trip wounded. Though serious, his wounds were not life-threatening. But something had wounded his spirit. His laid-back personality slowly slipped away, replaced by a darker, more brutal, spirit. He drank more. He punished instead of taught. He resorted to physical violence instead of chastising. Then one night, after a day of binge drinking, Manius had beaten Demetrius…savagely. He’d bided his time, and when Manius went on one of his trips, he escaped fleeing into the wilderness.

Unfortunately, Manius had caught him and branded him. Unable to trust Demetrius any longer, he’d sold Manius to a passing caravan. Eventually, he’d been sold to Enosh, made a shepherd, and now spent his time wandering the Judean hills, smelling like sheep. 

“Well, I admit that you’ve endured more than your share of bad fortune,” mused Alter. 

“More than my share,” Demetrius said incredulously, “No one has been treated as badly as I!”

“Well, I know a man that, like you, was forced into a degrading circumstance, losing his status and place, and then had those he loved turn on him. Eventually, they killed him out of spite.”

“Who is he? I’ll bet he’s angry as well.”

“No, he’s not. He’s a good shepherd. The best I’ve known.”