Ten

But John was growing a bit impatient about the wedding feast, and broke into the conversation with, "But then are we all going to the wedding on the day after tomorrow? If so, we must prepare, you know." Simon, who had joined them, seemed to think that there would be no difficulty with there being such an increase in the guests, but Mary was not quite so sure. "I will keep my eyes open," she said. "It would not be just if we turned a happy day into an embarrassment."

As Simon was speaking, John saw Thomas out of the corner of his eye, and said, "Simon, you have not yet met Thomas, who now calls himself 'Didymus,' in honor of his brother, who died, you know, in that tragic accident."

"I have heard much about you in the past," said Simon, "though as rivals at the time, we never met. I am happy to see you here." His emphasis on "happy" probably had something to do with the fact that he had been meeting with, among others, Thomas's father, who had disowned him.

Thomas answered, "I had also heard of you and Andrew, not to mention John and James. I was astonished at seeing all of you."

"Almost as astonished, I imagine, as we ourselves are at being here. But he knows what he is doing." Andrew, the more he thought about it, the more inclined he became to doubt it. The whole thing was absurd!

John said, "Then matters are settled? My father is mollified?"

"Well, at least not discontented. The joining of our hired hands and--and another person--makes the business viable and even perhaps somewhat better than either of ours was by itself. He still grumbles, but I think he sees it and accepts it. Of course, what else can he do?" There was that, of course. All might be well, thought Andrew.

He came over to them and said, "I am delighted to hear it. I was sure that you could work something out."

'I would that you had been there, Andrew," returned Simon.

"No, it is as well I stayed," he said. "You have the tongue, and my appearance there would only have emphasized what they were losing." Well, he did have the tongue, as he showed with the lawyers, and Andrew's huge frame would advertise that fishing, at least, would be worse without him. At this thought, he mentally patted himself on the back for being just--and then remembered that Jesus was hardly gaining if Andrew was now to be a fisher of men.

John had turned to Ezra and asked in a low voice, "What do you think, Ezra? Will we be able to survive the wedding-feast?" Thomas was right beside him, and, though he was lost in thought, John did not want to mention his name.

"That is the question, is it not, youngster,"he answered, having caught his drift. "Everyone says Jesus knows what he is doing, and all the evidence is that they are correct. In that case, we have nothing to worry about."

"If I could but make myself believe that."

"Well, we can also keep our eyes open."

Thomas turned to John, and asked, "Which of the two is the older, Simon or Andrew?" he asked.

"Simon, of course."

"Ah, then that explains it."

"What?"

"Why it was that Simon did the talking. One would have thought, just from looking at them, that Andrew would have done a better job."

John laughed. "Muscles do not necessarily mean diplomatic skills."

"No, what I meant was that Andrew seems--how shall I say it?--in control of things." In control!, thought Andrew. If anyone is out of control, it is I!

John replied, "Oh, he is. But it is true, Simon has the tongue. Sometimes a bit too much of it. But it seems to have been adequate to the task this time at least." Andrew glowed inwardly at the praise and even, it must be said, at John's thinking Simon sometimes had "too much" tongue.

Ezra remarked, "It is difficult not to judge on first appearances, but the problem is that is difficult to judge correctly on first appearances. Or on appearances at all."

"That is true," said John aloud, "and it means that I will have to get to know you better. There is much beneath your appearance." Andrew saw that John had taken quite a liking to Ezra, and felt a twinge that Ezra might supplant him in John's eyes. "Bah! He is--or was--but a slave!" he thought.

"There is much beneath it," answered Ezra, with one of his brilliant smiles, "that I myself know not." What could that mean? thought Andrew.

"I hope that is true of me also," said Thomas. "All of you seem to detect something in me that I have never been able to discover."

"That, if I may say so," replied Ezra, "is because you have also been a slave right up to this very morning, whether you realized it or not."

Thomas thought for a moment. "A different kind of slave," he admitted, "but I see your point. I was a slave, obeying the orders of drink. It is a new way of looking at it."

"I suspect that most people are slaves to something or other, and only think they are free, when they are actually led on by this or that. I was lucky, in that sense. It was obvious I was a slave; but when one is enslaved by something inside oneself, one probably thinks of oneself as free."

Ezra seemed quite bright, at least as far as human relations went, mused Andrew. Of course, that was probably to be expected of a slave, who had to know how to manipulate people, and especially of a slave to Nathanael, who had practically nothing to do but observe others. . . . But then, am I a slave of something inside me that I do not recognize? And what? What do I desire, more than anything? A just world, where everyone is recognized for what he is, and treated equally; and what is wrong with that?

Thomas was saying"--my vice was making me do things, and ruining my life and the lives of those around me. If I could but undo it!"

"And Bartholomew wishes the same thing," said Ezra.

John nodded, "And so do I, indeed." Aha! So John also had something--some "vice" at least in his own eyes--that he considered himself a slave to! Andrew wondered what it could be. He showed nothing to Andrew in all the time he had known him--unless his very liking for Andrew was a vice. He smiled at the thought. And why can I not see whatever inside me requires that Jesus keep me in view?

But this is all nonsense! The reason he picked each of us probably has nothing to do with my idea of why he did it.

Thomas, however, laughing, replied to Ezra, "Perhaps we have all been chosen because we were all slaves to something, and Jesus wished to set us free."

"There may be something in that," said John. And as to that, if there ever was a free man, it is the Master--and possibly Judas Iscariot."

"Think you?"

"Why, do you see something in him?"

"No, not really."

"I think," said Ezra, "what Thomas is referring to is what I have noticed from what I have seen of him. Judas is too perfect. He is exceedingly handsome, and brilliant--he is a priest, you know, Thomas."

"No, indeed?"

"Indeed. So in addition to being intelligent, he is very learned. And he is graceful, and apparently strong, and almost anything else you can name--and humble, in the sense that he makes no boasts of his qualities, though he does not deny them. And yet . . . And yet I feel as you do. With the Master, it is different. He is all that Judas is--of course, less strikingly beautiful as a man--but it sits well on him. He is above us, and he knows it, but--how shall I say it?--it does not please him, particularly; it is but a fact. With Judas, it is a fact, and he is quite happy about it."

"Come now, Ezra, you are being unjust," said John.

"Am I? Thomas feels it. Is this not what you feel?" he asked Thomas.

"I have barely seen him, so I could not say. Perhaps we are being unjust, but the vague impression I got was something along the lines you were saying."

"Perhaps we are unjust. But I have had much and much time to study people. I may be mistaken, but I think not."

Interesting, thought Andrew, and lost the drift of the conversation. I had been thinking of Judas as supremely qualified for whatever the Master wanted, and here Ezra, who has had "much and much time to study people" finds him too perfect to be true.

John was saying "--aster chose him, and as everyone says, he knows what he is doing."

"I wonder," answered Ezra. "Did the Master choose him--as he clearly chose you and Bartholomew--and me--or did he choose the Master?"

At this, Andrew came over and said, "As to that, I was there when John was bathing everyone, and Judas came up to be bathed, just after Jesus. We all thought that it had thundered, and some heard a voice, and there was the bird that John mentioned afterward, which was the sign he had been told to look for--though I hear that he actually knew Jesus before; he was his cousin, or something--and Judas immediately spotted who it was, and after he dried off, asked if he could become a follower of Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said that if he went to Galilee, by the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, he would find him in a month or two. It was only after that that John pointed Jesus out to John and me, and we followed him ourselves."

"Interesting," said Ezra.

"But the Master does know what he is doing," said Andrew, "and he would not permit himself to be 'chosen' by anyone if he did not wish him to be among us."

"I suppose you are right," said Ezra. You must be right, of course. No one manipulates the Master."

"Well I think you are all being hard on Judas for no reason," said John. "I see nothing wrong with him. I like him."

Thomas said, "Oh, we see nothing wrong with him. Just the opposite. Ezra was saying that his problem was that there was too much right with him."

"That sounds to me like nothing but simple jealousy."

"And so it may be, youngster," said Ezra. "Our problem seems to be that we really have nothing much to talk about at the moment except each other--and that inevitably means finding fault with each other." He laughed, and the others joined in.

Still, thought Andrew, if Jesus was choosing people who needed to be watched, who was to say that Judas did not need to be watched even more than most?

Nonsense!

Jesus suddenly broke in, "We are almost, but not quite, ready to start announcing that the reign of God is just about to begin, and to prepare people to change the way they think about things. Another few days, I expect. But I think we had best be thinking now about something more practical: where each of us intends to spend the night--and to see to it that each has a wedding-garment ready on the morrow for the day after.

Andrew cast an amused glance at Thomas in what must have been Nathanael's father's expensive clothes, and who was looking down at them in worry, doubtless because he had no others, and had not really noticed them when he received them. Nathanael came over to him and said, "Fear not, Thomas. What you are wearing at the moment will do very nicely. I dare say even that it will surpass many of the others, who, after all, were fishers like you."

At this, Andrew wondered what he himself would wear. Even his Sabbath robes were quite shabby, and what else did he have? But no one else's would come near fitting him.

Ezra, who was looking on in a detached way, noticed Andrew's concern, and said, "I think I have something that you might be able to use, Andrew, if you do not mind putting on what used to be the livery of a slave. Of course, Bartholomew was always discreet and tasteful, and so it will not look like livery when you are wearing it. It will be a little tight on you, but I think you could get into it."

Andrew looked at him, at first skeptically and then with some confidence at his size. "Why thank you, Ezra, if you think Bartholomew would not mind."

"They are my clothes, Andrew. They only were his."

Andrew flushed. "Of course. I was not thinking. Excuse me." What a stupid mistake!

"Apology accepted." Ezra smiled, and so did Nathanael, but Nathanael's smile was a bit rueful, Andrew noticed. He had evidently thought of the clothes as his, and only realized with Ezra's remarks how ridiculous that was.

Ezra said, "I will fetch them tonight. I expect that Bartholomew and I will be sleeping in Cana. The wedding itself is in Cana, is it not?" He looked over at Nathanael, who nodded.

"I do not think it worth while to go around to Bethsaida," said Philip. "If one of you can find room for me, I will stay here in Capernaum. In that way, we can be back here early enough tomorrow."

John immediately offered him his house, which had a spare room, and he accepted gladly.

Nathanael looked up at the sky, and said, "But the sun is about to set, and perhaps we had best be started. The hill is a rather long climb, and a bit rough at night. Would you join us, Thomas?"

Thomas noticed that John was coming over as if to invite him also to his own house, but when John heard Nathanael, he turned to make a random remark to Simon, leaving Thomas free, and Thomas said, "Thank you, Nathanael," and went after them as they turned to climb the rather steep ascent. Andrew and the others went home for the night.

The next day, they convened once more at the shore, Andrew waiting with some misgivings for Ezra, since he was not really convinced that he could fit into anything Ezra would have. It did not bother him that it had been the livery of a slave; but he did notice that he was feeling strange in wearing clothes that originally went over a black body, as if the color would transfer itself to the clothes and then him. When the thought became even half-conscious, he said to himself, "How ridiculous!"

Eventually Thomas and Nathanael also appeared, with Ezra carrying a load of clothes. At first, Andrew thought of this as normal, and then realized that Ezra was not a slave any longer--and then realized again that they were Ezra's clothes, and why should he not be carrying his own clothes? It would take time to get used to his not being a slave and being a person like the rest of them.

Ezra went up to Andrew and showed him the clothes, and Andrew tried on the cloak, which was the most important of the garments, and, to his joy, it almost fit him. "I had no idea you were that big, Ezra," he said.

"Actually, we selected this one because it is a little large for me; I used to use it when I had some task that would require moving around a great deal. But if you do not try fishing in it, it seems as if it will serve very nicely."

"And you have a tunic also. That is well. My tunic looks rather--forlorn--inside it."

"I expect you will be able to get into that also, though you might have a bit more trouble moving once you put it on. But it is only for the wedding and the reception, where you have nothing to do, except congratulate the bride and groom and drink wine."

At this, Andrew cast a glance in Thomas's direction, which Thomas pretended not to notice.

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