The leaves crunched under my feet and the wind blew my blonde hair gently. It all seemed so peaceful and happy, unlike me. I chewed miserably on my already raw lip.
The smell, the haunting eyes, the screams and tears of those beautiful people were always present no matter where I went and what I tried to block them out with. I was told we were helping them, taking the heathens to a land where they would be owned by "good christian folk". My stomach flip-flopped. They might have been heathens in their own land but England couldn't be much better. That I was never going back to sailing on a trader was sure but, what was I to do now?
I had posed that question to a lady friend of my mother's, who was as naive as she was old, named Mary Newton and she had given me a strange answer.
"Come to my house tonight for supper!"
"Well," I was taken off my guard by her startling answer. "That is very kind of you and I'm very honored, but-"
"Wonderful! John and I will expect you at seven thirty then!"
I stammered out a garbled "thank you" and showed the lady to the door wondering why I hadn't been able to come up with a reasonable excuse not to go. Of course I could have simply told her the truth but saying "I couldn't possibly come to your house and be anything but miserable." would have sounded very rude.
All afternoon I tried to think of some way I could delicately brake of the engagement but to my annoyance nothing came up. So, here I was, a haunted man, looking for my future at a supper with two very sweet but very simple elderly people. Probably they were just lonely and looking for any excuse to see someone--I laughed at myself, John and Mary Newton always had guests, they were never lonely.
John himself answered my timid knock.
"Come in, come in son! Our dinner is almost ready but while we are waiting there is someone here I would like you to meet!"
"Someone you would like me to meet?" I immediately thought of my grandparents who were always inviting me over and introducing me to someone they "would like me to meet". Much to my discomfiture these someones were usually eligible young ladies with powdered hair and painted faces, nothing like what I was looking for.
John led me through a small wooden door to a comfortable sitting room where I could hear a low murmur of voices.
"Ah! There you are! I should have mentioned to you that we have other company here tonight. I hope you don't mind but I really thought you should meet him."
I let out my breath. Him. What a nice word.
A young man appeared from the depths of a arm chair. His gaunt face looked worn and haggard but his eyes burned with a passionate fire making him quite handsome. He held out his hand with a kind smile to me.
"Son, this is William. Perhaps you have heard of him? I think he would be interested in hearing the story of your recent voyage on the slave trader."
"Oh." I didn't want to talk about that.
Dumbly I reached out and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you mister--?"
"Wilberforce."
The smell, the haunting eyes, the screams and tears of those beautiful people were always present no matter where I went and what I tried to block them out with. I was told we were helping them, taking the heathens to a land where they would be owned by "good christian folk". My stomach flip-flopped. They might have been heathens in their own land but England couldn't be much better. That I was never going back to sailing on a trader was sure but, what was I to do now?
I had posed that question to a lady friend of my mother's, who was as naive as she was old, named Mary Newton and she had given me a strange answer.
"Come to my house tonight for supper!"
"Well," I was taken off my guard by her startling answer. "That is very kind of you and I'm very honored, but-"
"Wonderful! John and I will expect you at seven thirty then!"
I stammered out a garbled "thank you" and showed the lady to the door wondering why I hadn't been able to come up with a reasonable excuse not to go. Of course I could have simply told her the truth but saying "I couldn't possibly come to your house and be anything but miserable." would have sounded very rude.
All afternoon I tried to think of some way I could delicately brake of the engagement but to my annoyance nothing came up. So, here I was, a haunted man, looking for my future at a supper with two very sweet but very simple elderly people. Probably they were just lonely and looking for any excuse to see someone--I laughed at myself, John and Mary Newton always had guests, they were never lonely.
John himself answered my timid knock.
"Come in, come in son! Our dinner is almost ready but while we are waiting there is someone here I would like you to meet!"
"Someone you would like me to meet?" I immediately thought of my grandparents who were always inviting me over and introducing me to someone they "would like me to meet". Much to my discomfiture these someones were usually eligible young ladies with powdered hair and painted faces, nothing like what I was looking for.
John led me through a small wooden door to a comfortable sitting room where I could hear a low murmur of voices.
"Ah! There you are! I should have mentioned to you that we have other company here tonight. I hope you don't mind but I really thought you should meet him."
I let out my breath. Him. What a nice word.
A young man appeared from the depths of a arm chair. His gaunt face looked worn and haggard but his eyes burned with a passionate fire making him quite handsome. He held out his hand with a kind smile to me.
"Son, this is William. Perhaps you have heard of him? I think he would be interested in hearing the story of your recent voyage on the slave trader."
"Oh." I didn't want to talk about that.
Dumbly I reached out and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you mister--?"
"Wilberforce."
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