12. The grave

Port of Veracruz, 12 of July of the year 1681 of our Lord
My respected Mrs Celia,
I am Benedicto, the nefew, of your friend Mariano the warrior. I found your leters in between his things and my friend that signs below put them in Cristian for me. I belive that you will want to know what hapened to him. He arrived to our town some years ago. He had a bad leg and he luked very old. He was very well recived by his family. The first thing he did was ask for his fathers. We took him to their grave in the family grave. He stood looking at their graves for much time. He did not crai. He talked to them. He said I am bak father mother. I never thot I was going to see you again. I pray the Lord has you in His Glory. He worked in our fields for some years. He marryed and had children. They were litle when he died. He told us about his travels. It was very interesting. We were many nights listening his stories with very atention. He never told us about you. We did not knew about you until I found your leters. He died with the consolations of the religion and we pray our Lord has him in His Glory.
This leter was writen for me by my friend the merchant Jose Maria Pintado y Gancenia and the escribano Jose Manuel Miranda y Martinez. He knows English very good and he is a very good friend.
I say goodbye your sure servant, I pray God keeps you.
Benedicto de las Mercedes Garcia y Bernal
Escribano Jose Maria Pintado y Gancenia
Jose Manuel Miranda y Martinez, Merchant

11. Jamaica

Thou can seest how my narrative comes close to our meeting, therefore to an end. Our correspondence has become sparse as thou rightly sayest. It is a veritable miracle, a show of the unbound dictates on our lives by the Almighty. How are letters have reached one another is as unlikely an event as the rise and fall of my fortunes, the reasons behind His will in this particular development still obscure to my limited understanding of His Unquestionable Authority.
I have left the sovereignty of King Goodman, most properly named so. Travelers from a neighbouring realm brought me lights of a situation suspected by me from quite a number of years herefore. They declared themselves subjects of His Majesty the King of Spain. Their speech was sprinkled with utterances that brought forth a distant familiarity, veiled by the mist of years. Upon my request they disclosed their speech as Nawatel, a tongue I recalled as being of widespread use among the various parts of the land were I was raised as a child. Such news brought an irresistible stirring in my spirit and, once again, I took my leave from a generous protector unto what I foresaw as the last leg of my unexpectedly and formerly inconceivable lengthy perambulation. Setting forth with the carriage of those who have become my latest traveling companions, we have reached the port of Veracruz, most conveniently placed at the head of a trade route reaching the Spanish homeland on the other end. Which will be the hands that, through the Will of the Lord of all nations, will carry this letter to thine, will most likely remain as hidden as His Means for enforcing His Will.

Resuming my narrative, my fortunes were again on the rise upon reaching the household of my new Master. As soon as he could spare the time he called me to his presence in a well-kept garden were he pressed my memory for further details on the stages of my travels and the nature of my exploits. He didn't disguise his intention of unveiling a supposed deceit of mine by a close examination of my words, their accordance a test of my truthfulness. Surmounting his suspicion, my recollections strengthened in quality. I was assigned light menial chores in the house servant's quarters, a significant improvement from those of the field hands. My complexion being different from that of the African slaves, they looked upon me as someone out of the usual order if things, and treated me as a quaint carrier of ancient wisdoms from this land. The initial fire in my new Master's curiosity ebbed low without extinguishing. I was still regularly called upon his presence and that of his guests to repeat some part of my narrative and satisfy their curiosity on various matter. The society of his visitors was another means for a continuing polishing of my use of the English tongue.
Here is it that I may put my quill to rest, for it was under this roof that thou granted me a place under the abundant foliage of thine kindness. The steady flow of verse I eagerly received from thine library gave me the means to be worthy of thine correspondence.

My greatest reward has been to be of service in thine desire to keep a first hand account of what we're only loose anecdotes in the house of my, I dare say, last Master to be.