Eight

'As are we all, said Thomas and Nathanael.

Ezra turned to Thomas, "Do you object to my calling you simply Thomas? It feels so strange to me, but I suppose I must get used to it."

"Not at all. Why should you call me Master? If anything, I am the one who is--was, I hope--an animal. Worse than an animal."

"You were accursed," said Jesus.

"I find it difficult to--to blame something other than myself. I could have stopped."

"It seems so to you now," answered Jesus. "But you could not. You remember, you tried once and failed."

"Well, yes, but I used the excuse that I was making everyone else miserable to go back to drinking. I was not blameless."

"Not blameless, no. But the curse was acting far more powerfully than you know to lead you to what you thought was a decision." Then how much blame could his mother have? thought Nathanael. His father (and he) had to be wrong; she could not stop if she put her mind to it, because she could not put her mind to it. All they did in trying to persuade her by showing the damage she was doing was make her feel either that she was an evil person, or that she could not help it--which, Nathanael reasoned, was only another incentive to drink to prove to herself that she could not help it. They were prompting her to drink by what they thought would help her to stop. It was indeed a curse, to be removed only by some kind of miracle.

Thomas also was pondering this. After a while, he said, "If you say so, Master."

"The point is that whatever blame you did have is forgiven; it is gone. It is useless to look back on it and wonder how much there was; it is forgiven, whatever it was. The newborn does not contemplate life in the womb; he looks ahead to the world he is to conquer."

"Which is exactly what terrifies me." Again, thought Nathanael. He at least believes he can forgive sins--or that he can petition the Lord somehow to forgive them. He almost acts as if he were the Lord Himself. "And me," he said, in unison with Ezra.

"Fear not. Trust, and all will be well. Difficult, perhaps, but well."

"As Thomas said," answered Nathanael, "What alternative do we have?"

"Then perhaps" Jesus said to Nathanael, "you two can take Thomas to meet the others and tell them they have a new companion. I have a few things to do here before I join you. Philip will be rather surprised, I think."

"Is Philip another follower of yours?" exclaimed Thomas.

"Oh, yes. In fact, I called him before Nathanael; he was the one who found him for me. You will--well, all will be well there also, after a bit. You know Philip, so brace yourself at first. You might even reflect that if one takes a certain attitude," and he cast a glance at Nathanael, "one might find him refreshing." Again, how did he know?

But the fact that they had clearly been dismissed prevented them (to Nathanael's relief) from pursuing the point. Nathanael hoped that in this new situation, he could maintain the "certain attitude."

As they walked along, an idea occurred to Thomas, and he looked over at Nathanael and said, "You know Greek, do you not?"

"A little. I can manage in it. Why?"

"What is the Greek word for 'twin'?"

"Twins? Didymoi."

"I mean a twin. One of them."

"Ah. I see. What are you, in other words."

"Exactly."

"Didymus. Do you ask thus for the reason I suspect?"

"Well, when you told Ezra to call you Bartholomew, it seemed to me that you were giving a new name to that new person that you were starting to be, and it had something to do with remembering your father. So I thought that perhaps I should have a new name also to go with my new life. And I would have others remember the other twin that I--divorced myself from."

That sobered them from conversation for a bit, though Ezra seemed to be pondering. "I suspect I will still be called Ezra," he said finally, "though before I was merely a kind of pet with that name." He smiled. "I thought, perhaps, of calling myself Nehemiah, but I doubt if anyone would understand the joke."

Nathanael grinned. "Someone has been reading the Scriptures over my shoulder!" Now it would come out.

Ezra drew in his breath in dread, but Nathanael smiled at him, "Fear not, Ezra. I knew what you were doing as I taught Thomas--may I keep calling you Thomas?"

"If I may keep calling you Nathanael."

"It is a bargain." He resumed to Ezra, "I saw you out of the corner of my eye, and wondered how much you made of it. I suspect the lamp in your room lost considerable oil of a night as you learned your lessons."

Ezra laughed. "I did have to fill it rather often. And once or twice I became so sleepy I almost neglected to return the scrolls I had borrowed. But you never gave even a hint that you did not disapprove!"

"Why should I? It would only cause a fuss, and there was enough fuss in that house. And why should I disapprove? Ezra was a scribe after all, and there was a fittingness in it."

"Well, I am happy that you are not angry."

"Who knows? You may do great things like Thomas--back in Ethiopia, perhaps. And even I might manage actually to do something." He began to think that the fact that he did something with Thomas might have begun to alter Ezra's attitude toward him. He suspected that Ezra had run up the hill from the cave for a complex reason: so that he would not have to be the one to go in and try to persuade Thomas to join them, and so that he could find out if Nathanael would actually do it by himself--and I almost did not, he recalled--and perhaps to avoid having Nathanael give him an order to help him, as if he were still a slave. As I would have, I suppose. But in any case, Nathanael thought, with a certain pride, I seem to have passed my test--thanks to the help that Jesus seemed to have given.

Evidently, each of the other two had a great deal to ponder also, because they walked on in silence for a considerable time.

A bit later, Ezra touched Thomas's elbow, and said, "May I speak to you for a moment Mas--Thomas?"

Thomas turned. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

Nathanael also turned. Ezra, however, drew Thomas aside, and said, loud enough for Nathanael to hear, "It is nothing, except something I found as I cleaned out your cave." Nathanael interpreted this as confidential, and walked on ahead, wondering what it was all about, speculating that Ezra had probably come upon Thomas's cache of wine.

They talked together for a long time, Nathanael occasionally glancing back, to see Ezra give one of his dazzling smiles every now and then; but by and large, it was quite a serious conversation. In one of his glances, he caught Ezra handing something to Thomas (the wine? Or what?), and looked away as he saw Ezra and Thomas look ahead at him. The conversation continued, and finally Ezra, in surprise, said loud enough for him to hear, "Malice? God forbid!"

"Then we are friends?" replied Thomas. Nathanael saw that the conversation was drawing to a close, and slowed his pace, allowing the others to come up.

Ezra laughed, and said. "What a strange word, for me. 'Friends.' Yes, of course we are friends. I have not had a friend since I was six years old and became a slave." Nathanael looked back. He had laid his huge hand upon Thomas's shoulder.

"And my only real friend was what is at my waist," answered Thomas, putting his arm around Ezra's back.

"Well," said Nathanael. "You two seem to have got along well together."

"I have a friend, Bartholomew!" said Ezra, gleaming.

"Not merely one, I hope."

Ezra smiled at him also, though not so broadly, and said, "Not merely one," but not with the same enthusiasm. It stung, a bit, but then, thought Nathanael, it would be hard to have a former owner as a friend, even if the owner wished it. Too much had passed. As well suddenly have a Samaritan for a friend. --But at least he had Thomas, who just then put his hand over the small wine-skin or whatever it was that he had secreted under his tunic.

"Life has its complications, does it not?" said Thomas, embarrassed.

The others reacted as if caught in a naughty act. "It does indeed," said Nathanael. "But there is our little group." They were by the shore of the lake, and there were six or seven men, Philip among them, standing about talking.

"As you see," said Nathanael to them when they drew up, "I have brought Thomas, who wishes--he thinks, just as I suspect we all do--to become one of us and follow the Master."

Philip dashed over. "Then you have seen him! Thank God! The last time you came to the shop, I could hardly recognize you, you were so drunk!"

Nathanael recoiled in horror as Thomas made a fist and looked as if he might hit him in the face. How could he defuse this situation? But then Thomas bit his lips and took a deep breath ("bracing himself," thought Nathanael) and then said, "When they found me, I was even worse, half dead and seeing things that were not there. But I have been saved--I think--I hope. No, I know." But he added another "I hope" under his breath.

"I never knew it was you, before you came to me yourself, after you k--" at this point, even Philip realized what he was about to say, and caught himself. "After the accident. Before, I thought it was Nathanael."

Nathanael was considering what reply to make, when Thomas took another deep breath, and answered, "Well, that was part of the deception that I was practicing. I find, though, that I was deceiving myself even more than anyone else. Samuel--and my poor father--knew all about me, though I thought I was being so clever."

"You had me completely fooled," blurted Philip

Nathanael all but laughed. A daunting task, to fool Philip."Not completely," said Thomas. "I remember once you told me I looked as if I was drunk."

Philip flinched. "I was merely joking."

"No doubt I did look as if I was drunk, because I was. I did not realize how drunk I was, and was convinced no one would notice, but you made me drink less, as I remember, for a while. But it caught up with me again. It is insidious."

Philip looked thoughtful. "How is it that most people can drink and nothing happens, but others become drunks? You would think they would see what was happening and stop before it became too serious."

"It is not that simple, Philip. I told you it is insidious. At first, I suppose, one can stop, but at that point there is no reason to stop. Everyone else drinks wine, and one thinks that one is not drinking any more than anyone else. But one does not notice that one drinks more and more as time goes on, and still believes that perhaps it is a bit more than others, but not unusual--and one believes that he can stop any time he chooses. But he finds no occasion to choose, even as life becomes more and more difficult. And then when the crisis comes, he cannot stop, and he even fights when--" he could not go on, and doubled over in sobs.

As Nathanael looked on in horror and pity, Philip ran up to him and placed his hand on his back, while the others stood round in embarrassment, "I am so sorry, Thomas! I know you could not help it! But the Master has saved you from it, has he not? It is over!"

Thomas gradually recovered control of himself. He straightened up and looked Philip in the eye, and said, "Oh, no, Philip, it is not 'over.' I suppose it never will be 'over.'

Nathanael tended to agree. Jesus had certainly not taken his fear away from him, nor his tendency to do nothing when it was inconvenient to act. But he had been able to act--once, at least--in spite of his fear and revulsion--but only, he remembered, after invoking help from Jesus, who had promised he would be with him in spirit.

Well, either he was, in which case, he was somehow superhuman, or Nathanael's belief--hope--that he was pulled him through--this time.

Thomas was continuing, "But it is past, and the Master has made it possible to begin again--he says."

"Fear not, Thomas," said Philip apologetically. "Trust the Master. He can do anything."

"It does seem so. At least I no longer see things that are not there." He looked around. "You all are here, are you not?" The others laughed an embarrassed laugh.

"Do not fear that you must not mention what happened," said Nathanael to everyone at large, who began to take this very lesson from what they saw, "Thomas told me that he would like to have you call him 'Didymus,' Greek for 'Twin,' precisely so that the memory of Samuel can be kept alive. And by the way," he added as an afterthought, "you might call me Bartholomew."

One or two of those standing there gave a nod of comprehension. Nathanael thought that soon he ought to go to be reconciled with his father, but recoiled from the idea. "Not until I have actually done something with this worthless self that I am--that I was. He was right, but how can I prove to him that he no longer is?"

Nathanael then went over to Thomas and began to introduce him to those standing about, and saw that Thomas was as surprised as he had been at how many of them he knew of, and perhaps had met at one time or another. Andrew took his hand in a very friendly manner, and greeted Thomas in a rather higher-pitched voice than one would expect from such a huge frame, and said, "I have heard of you and your brother. My own brother Simon is not here at the moment. He is negotiating with Zebedee to combine our fishing businesses into one--and I think with your father, if I am not mistaken--"

Thomas's face flamed, and Andrew realized that he also had stepped into quicksand. He tried to recover himself by saying quickly, "Since not only Simon and I, but both of Zebedee's sons have decided to follow Jesus. He has but the hired hands at the moment."

Another came up behind Andrew and took his hand, "I am James, Bar-Zebedee. We are here because, though my father rather expected John here," he nodded at the youngster beside him, "to leave us and do things religious, he is not quite reconciled to the fact that Jesus seems to have stolen both of us from him." John nodded, and took his hand also.

"What is this 'following' that we are supposed to be doing?" asked Thomas. Nathanael's ears perked up. He was as eager to know as Thomas.

"Know you not?"

"I know nothing except that I was a drunk and now I seem not to be. Nathanael told me that he could rescue me; beyond that I know nothing of him--except that he told me that he would like me to 'follow' him, for some reason. And he seems to know things."

James laughed. "It is difficult not to do follow him if he calls you, is it not?" and John, the boy, added, "He is the Prince; I am convinced of it. We are to be his retinue. That is what it is."

"Now John," said James. "You do not know this."

"Nonsense! I do not know the sun will rise tomorrow--or rather," he said, looking up at the western sky--"that it will be overcast. But facts are still facts. Of course he is the Prince."

"Prince?" asked Thomas.

"Know you not?" said John. "The one the prophesies have written of for centuries. The Son of David, who is to be King."