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Oliver Benjamin                            
but Four-teeth helped explain. “My friend here is playing at
Samenna Wark,” he said. “Wax and gold. On the surface, the mold is
wax, but inside, the truth is a golden jewel. This is our poetic
tradition, and one must peel away all the layers.”
“Like an onion,” the doctor explained, “Skins of truth, each one
coming closer to the center.”
“But it is all peel,” Elegant laughed.
Roy felt the wax melt away to reveal only more wax.
Nevertheless, a rush of consequence spread through his wiry flesh. It
felt like new blood.
“Ah! The chat! It is working!” said Webele.
“Look how he grinds his teeth!” said Four-teeth wistfully.
Roy did not think the drug affected him at all, that he was only
inspired by present company, the serendipity of travel, and a
burgeoning dream of discovery.
Later, as the party was breaking up, Roy asked the elegant man
why, if Ethiopia supposedly had the ark and thus the blessing of God,
was it so riddled with tragedy and feebleness?
“Excellent!” Elegant cheered, “You would be good at Samenna
Wark.”
He tipped his hat and shuffled over to the waiting cab with the
others. They waved and drove off. Roy looked up. He had never seen
such bright stars over a capital city before.
After a minute Webele placed his hand on Roy’s shoulder. He
pointed to the parched valley before them. “Maybe this was God’s
country, after all. He loved her so much that she was burned in his
embrace.” He felt free to speak such blasphemy. He no longer
believed God listened to the Ethiopians.
“Still, she’s lovely,” Roy answered him.
Webele’s wife announced that dinner was ready. They returned
to the house for goat stew, though the chat had destroyed Roy’s
hunger. Still, he managed to enjoy the fine meal and a few glasses of
traditional honey mead besides. After the stimulant tapered off and
each man drew into his own silent contemplation, the kind Ethiopian
family collectively showed him to his room. Roy wished that he could
hug them all.
As the night wore on and he could not sleep, he clung instead to
his pillow with all the ardor of a long-lost king returning at last to his
native land. Entering the city gates, he dreamed that a still-
resplendent Sheba was waiting there to welcome him home.
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