Seventeen

One of you is a devil. He knew. How could he not know? He could read minds. How was I to handle this? Clearly, we were enemies from now on, and how could I stay under those circumstances? Well, he had not killed me--yet--and, one would think, given the principles he lived by, it was unlikely that he would, unless I attacked him and he could justify it as self-defense. I wandered about in the woods, pondering my dilemma.

--And met Jesus himself, walking on the path toward me. There was no way I could turn aside as if I had not seen him.

"Judas," he said.

"Yes?" I answered.

"You are aware of the one I was referring to there in the synagogue. I wish to clarify myself somewhat. When I said you are a devil, I meant the literal meaning of the word: an accuser, a slanderer, but in its broader sense an enemy. But if you are an enemy to me, I wish you to know that I am not an enemy to you. I love you, Judas, and I will save you if you will let me. And I also wish you to know that it may be that in the end you will allow me to do so; but that is for my Father and others to decide. But if you do change your way of thinking and return to me, then I will be to you as the father of the spendthrift son was to his son on his return. Remember that. You will need it at the worst moment of your life."

I could find nothing to say. It was exactly what Jesus would have said; to what extent he meant it was another matter. For someone as full of his own importance as Jesus was, it was all but unthinkable that he would not harbor a deep hatred for someone who stood against him--and in that, I was clearly Satan.

"You need not speak," he said after a short time. "I realize that now you are incapable of taking advantage of what I said." He left, leaving me to ponder.

Later, In my wanderings, I happened to notice John talking to Ezra. It seems he had an attraction to him, despite his coal-black color--and I suppose, if one ignored that, there was a certain primitive beauty about him--such as one might see in a piece of driftwood on the shore of the ocean. They were certainly friendly enough. Perhaps John had freed himself to some extent from the influence of Jesus, and was seeking something more than companionship--in which case, I might be willing to accommodate him, I thought.

And then as I watched, something like what I suspected seemed to be going on. Ezra put himself behind John and hugged him--and then stood in front of him with one of his blazing smiles, and hugged him once again--but kissed him passionately, and put his hand over John's privates, which had become prominent, as had his own; and then moved John's had over his own organ.

But John resisted, though reluctantly, it seemed. They stood for a while talking, John almost panting with desire, and Ezra, who doubtless was skilled in such matters, doing what he could to increase it.

But he evidently failed. They parted with what might almost have been a chaste embrace, and that was that.

--At least, as far as that incident was concerned. But, interestingly enough, he had awakened a desire in me, though in general I preferred women. But Mary, as far as I could see, was taken by Jesus, and in comparison with her, all the other women were hags. Any woman would be a hag beside her. So I would wait my opportunity, to see if another inspiration would aid me. I was good-looking enough to be able to do better than Ezra at attracting John, and I was quite astute enough to answer any simplistic objections he might have from his superficial reading of the Bible.

But there was soon a distraction from all this. We were with Jesus, as usual in a synagogue, and, surprisingly, the insanity of his previous statements had not diminished his popularity. Of course, there were still throngs of people to be cured--which was what the people really cared about, not abstractions and mysteries--and Jesus obliged with his usual good grace. In any case, the synagogue was as packed as before. After a short while, there was a stirring from outside, and eventually word came through to the front that Jesus's mother and relatives were at the door, wanting to see him.

"Who is my mother?" said Jesus when he heard this, "and who are my relatives?" He raised his hand and waved it over the congregation. "Here are my mother and relatives. Anyone who listens to what God says and acts on it is my mother and my sister and my brother." So now his relatives were "spiritual" relatives. Conceivably, he could make something of the meat of his body and his blood, if he emphasized the "spiritual" nature of whatever it was he was thinking of.

Jesus, having heard the news about his relatives, curtailed his discourse and went outside, where he found his mother and a number of people who seemed to be his relatives. I had heard he had a number of cousins.

"I would not disturb you," she said in calm voice, "but they insisted that they wished to speak with you as soon as possible--and finally, I told them I would see what I could do."

"They understood well the best approach," said Jesus. Then he turned to a group of two or three others who were with her. "But you knew that there was no necessity for this. I am still what I was; I have not changed from the time we played at castles and soldiers in these very streets. I am not some Caesar, who grants audiences."

"True," said a thin, pale man, half a head taller than Jesus. He was a little younger, it seemed, perhaps in his late twenties. He fingered his robe nervously, and temporized, "It was the crowd. We tried to get by them to see you, and could not force our way in--and we thought that if you knew we were outside, you would come out to meet us."

It was obvious that this was a half-truth, perhaps even a little less. At least in this man's case, the fact that his playmate had become a miracle-worker and a preacher of such intense power had intimidated him.

"Actually," said a very brown man whose beard was beginning to be grizzled, though his hair was still black. He had enormous eyebrows and a nose rather more sharp than most, "I was the one who wanted to see you before I left to go back to Alexandria. We are both too busy, are we not?"

"I do seem to be rather occupied at present, James," replied Jesus. "I am sorry I did not make more leisure to have a long chat. You leave soon?"

Ah. The cousin, the merchant who now lived in Alexandria.

"--morrow, I fear. Business. But I have heard much about you--in fact, there are a few stirrings as far away as Egypt, would you believe, and not simply among the relatives you have there, either. Not much, you understand, but your name begins to be mentioned now and again. And that was my real motive for speaking to you. You must leave this place for Judea so that you will have an audience for what you do. People do not do great deeds in secret, they want to be noticed. If you are a magician, you must go show yourself to the world."

A "magician!" Obviously, this James would not be any help. Not that it mattered. It did not look as if anything was going to be any help, now that Jesus was set on his course. I could see no way to steer him in the right direction, since he was convinced I considered him an enemy. What a tragedy!

The others nodded, and the first one said, "The Festival of the Booths is near. You could come down with us. We would be delighted to have you."

Jesus smiled at them, and said, "Thank you for your concern, Joses--to all of you," with a special nod at James, "but the right time has not come for me yet. For you, any time would be a good time, because the world does not hate you. But the fact is that it hates me, because what I do proves to it that its deeds are evil."

James tried to make a demurrer, and Jesus answered his thought, "No, I am deadly serious. You go down to the festival; I cannot accompany you, I am afraid. It might be dangerous."

At least, he was not so mad that he was unaware of the effect what he said would have on those who really were his enemies--which I hoped somehow I did not eventually have to join. But if he was intent on destroying himself "so that he could come back to life on the third day," I simply could not accompany him. Of course, he said he would forgive me if I changed heart. But how could I? I would have to accept a contradiction. Well, I would see how things unfolded.

They made polite noises of insistence, but they were short-lived. The rumors of Jesus's wild statements had doubtless reached them, and these last remarks of his tended more than anything to confirm suspicions that he might indeed be mad.

"Well," said James, "I thought it a good idea to propose it; but I can see that it has already occurred to you, and doubtless you have good and sufficient reason for what you are doing. As to me, of course, I must go and make myself ready for the journey. Some one of these days, we must get together and talk. And if you ever do come down to Alexandria, my house, as always, is open; and you can be sure that I will put in a word in certain circles and see to it that you are well received. From what I have been hearing, if you continue as you have been doing, there will not be a sick person left in Galilee or any of the surrounding countryside."

The others murmured assent, and each found an excuse to leave. They clearly did not know what to make of this new person, for all of his protestations that he had not changed.

Finally, only Jesus' mother remained, greeting all the students. John, I noticed, was especially happy to see her. She walked back with us to the place where we were staying, which was not an encampment this time, but various houses in and around Capernaum. She was staying there also, not in Nazareth.

She remained with us for the night and the Rock and John prevailed upon her to stay for most of the next day also. It passed with little fanfare, like a day in the middle of Spring, which one notes with relief, hoping for the peace and comfort of summer, and simultaneously forgetting the heat and agony that lies ahead.

Everyone had already been gone for two days to the celebration in Jerusalem before Jesus said that he had decided to go after all, and the group left, going along the Jordan once again. I, however, stayed behind, since I had some donors to see to replenish our funds.

I happened to notice Nathanael with his black ex-slave, and went up and said to Nathanael, "Are you going to Jerusalem?"It seemed he was. "I was detained here also. Shall we go together?" I could ignore the shadow that accompanied him, I thought.

"If you like," he said, rather reluctantly, it seemed, and we set off together.

"I had some contributors that I had to see, for them to help out in our excursion to Jerusalem; and fortunately I was reasonably successful. Were you here for something similar?"

"No, I--no, it was merely that I wished to see my parents, and--and to say farewell to them."

"Oh? Are you planning to go somewhere?"

"No. No, it is just that when I left earlier, I did not realize that I would be gone so--so constantly, and I--I wished to tell them that--that I was going to be occupied with Jesus from now on."

"I see. He does usurp a great deal of one's time, does he not?"

Nathanael seemed to bridle a bit at this, but replied in a conversational tone, "I know not that 'usurp' is the proper term."

It was interesting. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ezra, who was doing to me what I was doing to him: acting as if I were not there. He would nod at what Nathanael said, as if he were answering Nathanael's musings, not replying to me.

I smiled. "Forgive me; I meant nothing by it beyond that he tends to keep one occupied."

"He does that," said Nathanael.

"I wonder how he is faring in Jerusalem. He is not--universally admired there."

"Well, he knows what he is doing, as you once said."

"Sometimes I wonder, lately."

We walked on in silence for a while. Finally, I said, "I think if we pick up our pace a bit and go to sleep quite late, we might make it to Sychar before morning. We can catch a watch or so of sleep and then continue. I have rather pressing business in Jerusalem, so would you mind?"

"Not at all," said Nathanael, and looked a question at Ezra, who shrugged. We set of at a very brisk walk, which precluded conversation. I, of course, kept myself in very good physical condition; when Nathanael, and then finally Ezra, were panting, I was still in control of my breath, though it took some effort to be so. The Force that inspired me, I thought, was going to give me an opportunity, and I was wondering what it would be.

"This is far enough for tonight," I said finally. "We are fairly near Jacob's Well, and can refresh ourselves there when we awake."

"I have some bread and cheese in my pouch," said Nathanael.

"Very good. And we can refill our canteens at the well. I have something I can lower down."

So we found a place under some low trees and slept. During the night, I waked to relieve myself, and as I walked into the woods, I felt strongly that an inspiration was upon me.

And as I looked down, there in the dark, almost invisible, was a large black tarantula, gazing up at me with those spider eyes. I would wager that a coward like Nathanael would be terrified of tarantulas, and that I could turn his fear to my--to his--advantage, and make him doubt Jesus as his protector. That would save him from sharing Jesus's fate.

I gently picked the animal up. It squirmed a bit, but did not seem overly disturbed; it was as if the Force went through it also and made it cooperate with me. I gently carried it over to where Nathanael was sleeping, and inserted it into the pouch.

Ezra woke shortly after me that morning; Nathanael was still asleep. This was well. When Ezra returned from relieving himself, I said, "Would you mind going to the well and getting us some water? I have a few things to do here before we continue the journey." His eyes widened that I had decided to speak to him; but it was necessary to get him out of the way for a while.

When Nathanael woke, he found that I was already awake, and Ezra gone. As I suspected, the first thing he did was pick up the pouch by the strap that normally went over his shoulder, and reach in for the bread,

--and felt something furry.

"Aiee!" he screamed, jerking his hand out as if it had been burned, and dropped the pouch. It fell on the ground at his feet, and the flap covering it flopped open.

And the tarantula, startled, crawled out and began looking around.

Nathanael sprang backward, screaming uncontrollably, pointing at the thing. I looked on with amusement. "It--it--it--" he kept saying, as the creature looked up at him, decided that he was not something it wished to eat, and then turned and dashed away under a rock several cubits distant.

Nathanael looked down at the pouch, afraid to go near it lest there be another horrible thing there. He was now making grunting inarticulate noises that he could not control. He wanted to run, but was afraid to do so lest he step on something.

Finally, I came over, picked up the pouch and dumped it out onto the ground. There was nothing inside but the bread and food and a knife Nathanael used for eating.

"It must have crawled in during the night," I said. Nathanael shuddered. I went on, "But there is nothing to fear. Tarantulas rarely bite, and their bites are not fatal--generally. They are quite painful, they tell me, but the pain of the nails on a cross is much, much worse."

"What do you mean?" snapped Nathanael.

"You do not expect Jesus to be crucified alone, do you? But I really must be going. As I said, I have pressing business in Jerusalem, and last night we traveled a bit slow for my taste. I will see you there, doubtless." And I left. I had to hasten, because I wanted to be away before the man of pitch returned, since he would be very angry, and I did not wish to cause a disturbance trying to fight the two of them. He looked to be rather strong--as he would be, since he was a slave.

Nathanael was shaking so badly, he could not stand. He sat on the dirt next to the pouch, staring at it, making the noise that is usually written "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" and kept wiping off the hand that had touched the spider. Presumably when he recovered from his terror, he would remember what I said, and realize that joining Jesus on the cross was not to his liking. Well, we would see. I did what I could. All in all, as I walked briskly along, I felt that this was one of my true successes.

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