As the sun blessed the earth with its warming rays the next morning, Onesimus moved his stiff limbs and groaned. His hip joints were so sore that he almost wept with pain, and his dew-soaked clothes chilled him, sending violent shivers up and down his spine, and making his teeth rattle. Too miserable to move any more, he sat motionless, watching the blazing red ball seemingly rise out of the earth.

Soon there were people on the road below, leading various types of animals, and carrying bundles of sticks, baskets of fruit, and other merchandise toward the market place in the city. He thought of Dektra, and hoped his friend had not been injured too badly by the ill treatment he had given him. He recalled Dektra’s preaching to him when he was in such danger, and wondered at the lad's courage. At the remembrance of the Name of Jesus, Onesimus became very uncomfortable, and cursed himself for not controlling his thoughts better.

He must hurry: he was still a hundred long, hard miles from Ephesus, and he would not feel safe until he was aboard a ship sailing for Rome. Still stiff with cold, he made his way down the hillside, and walked rapidly into the city. The market place was a mass of sellers and buyers, all talking at once, trading live meat, bloody meat, flyblown meat, and vegetables in every state of freshness and rottenness. There was no ice, and the blazing sun quickly cooked food into a mass of hold-your-nose. A thousand smells, a jumble of sounds, a multitude of different things, and a crush of human bodies made Onesimus' head swirl.

Other merchandise: pots, vases, jewelry, slaves, spices, and clothes were also being sold or bartered. He moved cautiously as though every eye was in the head of a spy. He had removed a small number of coins from the sack, and stowed them carefully in his girdle. He picked out a merchant that appeared to him to be a scoundrel, and approached him.

"My master sent me to buy a change of raiment," he lied. "We are the same size, so sell me things that are my size."

The merchant grinned suspiciously. He was indeed a scoundrel, and therefore would rather have five times the price of a change of raiment than to turn in a runaway slave.

"Your master? I am sure your master is a man of distinctive taste, is he not, my young man?" replied the merchant, his black eyes gleaming knowingly.

"Certainly," replied the slave. "Nothing but the finest."

The merchant licked his greasy chops with glee. This, he was sure, was his lucky day. Quickly, he went through his wares seeking a suitable change for the rich master whom he was certain did not exist, until he came to a garment that had defied all his efforts to sell for so long he shuddered to think about it, and with great enthusiasm, held it up for Onesimus' examination. The slave’s face clouded with distaste as he viewed the very expensive, but very ugly mantle.

"This is the only one I have to fit that rich master of your size," grinned the sly salesman.

"The only one?" repeated Onesimus pitifully.

"The only one," the wily one affirmed with a greedy gleam in his eyes.

Onesimus had enough smart to know he was being conned, and that he was actually paying a bribe rather than buying clothes, but he was in no position to haggle. He realized that the merchant could collect a few denarii for turning in a runaway slave, and this suit was going to cost him more than that by a long shot.

"How much?". he asked, steeling himself for the answer. "

Ten aureus," grinned the merchant as he held out a money-worn palm.

Onesimus did not know how badly he was being robbed, for he had never had any experience in buying, or in handling money, but he was sure that the price was several times what it should have been. After this he would be in a better position to haggle. This was only the beginning of his training in the ways of the world. With this transaction, he would buy his freedom. When he put on those ugly clothes, he would be a slave no more. Ten aureus were 250 denarii - enough to pay the wages of a Roman soldier for nearly a whole year. If he had known that, he would have been distressed indeed. Struggling to conceal his anger, Onesimus carefully removed the money from the girdle around his waist, and placed it grudgingly in the dusky palm before his face. Instantly, the hand snapped shut like a trap and reopened under the merchant's nose where it was carefully examined by avaricious eyes.

"Ah, my son," he hissed, "your master must be rich, rich, rich."

Onesimus suddenly felt an irresistible urge to depart that place, and in obedience to the urge,, he grabbed his high priced clothes and silken sack, and broke into a swift retreat, leaving behind not a word. This character might decide to put robbers on him, or turn him over to the authorities. The money bag he was carrying was a very poor vault for such a treasure as it contained, and Onesimus keenly felt ,his vulnerability to attack. He must find himself a mule, and some food, and be on his way.

He found a place where two booths had a narrow space between them, and with a quick look around, he squeezed into the opening, and quickly, but with much difficulty, shed his slave clothes and slipped into his freedom garments. Now he felt much safer. Stepping back into the milling crowd, he felt great pleasure well up in his soul.. Now he would make up for all the misery he had endured all his life, and Philemon would foot the bill. Now he would sow his wild oats. He bought himself a cake of dried figs and flooded them down with great gulps of warm goat milk. He even splurged enough to enjoy a large flat barley cake covered with butter. He would eat like Caesar himself from now on.

And he was being treated like royalty. He swelled with pride as those around him gave respect to his fine - however unattractive-they-were clothes. No one could know that under those fancy threads there was only a slave. But God knew, for God looks upon the heart. And Onesimus knew, and he would have to put on a good show to get by. He began to use gracious language such as he had heard from Apphia and Philemon, and Archippus.

The urgency of moving on to Ephesus pressed upon him, and compelled him to seek a caravan going that way. The hundred mile trip to the eastern coast of the Aegean Sea would take many days, and there were many hazards for a rich man, as he would soon learn: especially if the rich man was a runaway slave. He needed a caravan. Many inquiries led him at last to a very dark, leathery-faced man who looked at him with eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

"I would go with you to Ephesus, sir," Onesimus announced.

"And have you an animal to ride upon?" was the courteous reply. The leathery-faced one scratched his beard as he studied the young man before him.

"I shall purchase one if one is required," Onesimus answered. He put up his guard as he noted the man's close scrutiny of his person.

"Many children will be in the caravan," continued the man, "and so it will be a journey of a fortnight and a half if we are not delayed unexpectedly."

"My patience will enable me to endure," Onesimus assured him, feigning the demeanor of a wealthy prince.

"And we may meet robbers on the road," the caravan master warned. "Do you carry a large treasure?"

"Only a few tokens to pay for my journey," lied Onesimus. He was wise to be wary.

"Then you may pay me twenty of those small tokens now to accompany us. Sesterces I mean. But I guarantee you nothing except to show you the way, and to feed you decently."

Onesimus handed the man his money with an inward sigh of relief that he was no longer a slave who had to pay bribes. He must learn to haggle, though, for that was customary.

"Where can I purchase a good donkey?" he asked, glancing around the camp to see if one was near.

"You are indeed in good fortune, sir, for I myself have for sale an excellent young white donkey just suited for a young prince like yourself," glowed the man.

Onesimus followed his guide through the maze of camels, tent ropes, baggage, and people until they came to a large tent. Before it stood a white donkey, tethered to a stake driven into the dry earth. Onesimus knew not the first thing about examining a donkey, or how much one was worth, but he felt he must put on a display of experience. This donkey appeared clean and healthy, and it had a very handsome saddle on it. The animal looked at him with a dolesome side glance as if it wondered if Onesimus could ride a donkey. The slave had never been on the back of a donkey, and something told him he would be better off to walk to Ephesus, but it was not customary for a rich man to walk, and so he put on a disinterested face, and asked the price.

The owner went through a long, animated sales pitch about the donkey, declaring its virtues in great detail, assuring one and all that this lovely animal was without equal, and at last stated the price with a face and voice formulated to make the customer think that the donkey was a steal.

But this time Onesimus was prepared, and even though he felt the price was reasonable, he acted as if his intelligence had been insulted; and responded with a long harangue about the donkey's faults, as he imagined them. The donkey had dirty feet, its tail was matted, there were a few black hairs here and there in its white coat, it did not appear well fed, and on and on until he rejected the offer as if he would never purchase such a wretched creature.

This response only ignited a more fervent sales pitch by the caravan master in which the donkey's previous owner was described as a very generous little old man who only rode the donkey to the synagogue, and kept it as well fed as one of his own children. Its ancestry was rehearsed in great detail, though Onesimus could not help but believe that most of the extolled progenitors were merely figments of the seller's imagination. At long last, the man came to an end with a new price that had saved Onesimus no little cash money.

The slave was very happy about the new price, but so exhilarated by his success as a haggler that he decided to give it one more shot. With great energy, he vigorously, though politely, objected to several more real or imagined flaws in the object of their bargaining. The donkey all the time seemed terribly bored by all the verbiage, and dozed off while his ears and tail flicked at the buzzing flies. A group of spectators had gathered around, witnessing with delight the contest between buyer and seller, their eyes fastened intently upon the one doing the talking, blurting out approval or disapproval as they were inclined. Some of the older men even gestured and moved their lips in concert with the conversation. Again, Onesimus ended his discourse with an expression of finality that would have led a less experienced seller to think the deal was off permanently.

But as the eyes of the crowd turned to the caravan leader, he began again to extol the virtues of the donkey. The animal was evidently fit for a king, for did not his ancestors bear the baggage of Alexander as he conquered the world? Gasps of disbelief were ejected from the lips of the bystanders when the caravan master declared that it had been told on good authority that one of this noble animal’s ancestors had been kicked by Alexander himself. Then another price was given that made it difficult for Onesimus to maintain his outward appearance of disdain. Nevertheless, he reluctantly agreed to the price and accepted the applause of the onlookers who agreed that he had driven a hard bargain.

Acting very sophisticated, Onesimus counted the price from his girdle into the outstretched hand, and watched it transferred into the bag hanging from the girdle of the caravan master. Onesimus looked around the circle, basking in the warm glow of his victory as the surrounding snaggle-toothed faces beamed their approval. When Onesimus turned back to the caravan master, the man's face had changed from downcast defeat to a very broad, toothy grin and gleaming eyes.

"And now, Sir," he said over-politely, "would you wish to purchase the saddle?"

Onesimus was so astonished by the question that he gave a little gasp which tipped off the bystanders that he had thought he was buying a donkey and saddle when the seller was selling only a donkey. There was a great outburst of laughter which filled the hot air in the center of the circle with a very bad smell of half-digested goat milk, and sprinkled gray beards with spittle. The earth shook and gave up clouds of choking dust as feet were stamped with glee, and long bony fingers pointed and backs slapped as the mirth was enjoyed by all. Except Onesimus. He was mortified. The chemistry of his body instantly changed, sending hot flashes all over him, and turning his face a radiant crimson.

He had flat made a monkey out of himself this time.

Courtesy prevented the caravan master from joining the sidesplitting gaiety of the crowd, but he was obviously enjoying this moment very much. He waited patiently for Onesimus to answer. The latter knew that the first price the caravan master had quoted included the saddle, but it had never been said. Now he would have to buy the saddle, and would doubtless be much the worse off. Meekly, he asked the price of the saddle, and as expected, he had lost considerably in the exchange. Without a word, he counted out the money, and thanked the stars he was no worse off.

As the hee-hawing, cackling crowd dispersed to tell this tale a thousand times, Onesimus looked at his donkey, and wondered which of them was the dumbest.