Jeremy Robinson - The Didymus Contingency

The other men laughed and agreed, but none took action. They were all too terrified to personally carry out a death sentence. Greagor, pleased that he had made the men laugh, thought it appropriate to further taunt the chained beast. He picked up a sharp stone the size of a fist, and heaved it at Samuel. The rock sailed through the air, sure to strike a painful blow. The soldiers’ eyes grew broad with anticipation. Whack! Stone slapped against flesh.

Greagor stood up. He thought his vision must be playing tricks. But the other men, with petrified visages, saw it too. Samuel’s hand had a firm grip on the stone, inches from his head. He caught the stone…with his back turned! Greagor sat down and looked at his comrades. All were too timorous to say a word, lest they entice the beast to retaliate.

Samuel looked at the stone through glazed eyes. He smiled and began to rock back and forth, muttering to himself, “Dimito desrafat fier tarsadun,” over and over again. Each time he finished the words, he cut a bloody gouge into his arm using the stone. Froth dripped from his mouth and mixed with the blood oozing from his arm. The sight only enticed him further and his rocking grew more fervent. His legs bounced at the kneecaps and his eyelids twitched as though in violent REM sleep.

As Greagor watched with a new respect, he thought he saw something different about Samuel. He was growing more excited…or was it nervous?

The sea had been calm since the storm magically dissipated and no one had said much of anything. David had bound Tom’s wound as best he could, but it didn’t stop Tom’s head from swelling. The pain was intense at first, but had dulled slightly when Tom sat still, which wasn’t easy to do in a rocking boat.

If only he were alone, Tom thought. He could make a quick jaunt to the future for some Ibuprofen and ice, but it was impossible here in the boat and would be even more unlikely as soon as they landed in Gergesa, which was now only one hundred yards away.

From this distance, the city could be seen in its entire luster. Tall, white arches attached several columned buildings to one another. A grand theater bustled with activity to the south and a temple of Zeus stood tall and proud atop a hill to the north. This was the pinnacle of how Tom had envisioned the Roman Empire, its influence smearing even into the most distant territories. He enjoyed the view despite the drumbeat of pain pounding within his skull.

Matthew, who had been resting on the side of the boat, craned his head up as though he’d been rudely awakened. “Disgusting. Look at all those pigs. Who would tend such beasts so close to the city?” he said to Tom.

Previously, Tom would have thought such a comment to be peculiar, but having learned Jewish culture, Tom knew that pigs were unfit to eat and were looked down upon severely. The fact that such a large herd was roaming on the hill just outside the city must have enraged every good Jew for miles. But Tom wasn’t inclined to have yet another conversation about the foulness of pigs. He responded with a simple smile and the subject died out.

Within five minutes, they reached the shore. “Someone else can get their feet wet this time!” Matthew yelled, “I’ve spent my time in the water!”

Peter stood and said, “You got more then your feet wet,” as he climbed over the side of the boat, into the water. “Judas, give me a hand.”

Judas rather reluctantly got to his feet and threw one leg over the side. As Judas put his other leg into the water, he lost his balance and fell backwards with a yelp, catching his robe on the oar and ripping it lengthwise. Peter thrust his long arm into the water and pulled the flailing Judas to his feet. Judas was panicked and coughed a large amount of water up after taking a breath. Tom wondered if Judas had ever been submerged in water. The poor man must have sucked in a mouthful.

Judas attempted to collect himself but was clearly distraught. His hands shook as he clutched the side of the boat, knuckles white. Tom felt a deep compassion for the man. “Go ahead to shore, Judas,” Tom said, as he patted Judas’s hand, “I’ll help Peter.”

Judas trudged to the shore and sat down with his head between his knees. Tom and Peter dragged the boat full of men to the shore.

Tom then walked to Judas, who looked up with the sad eyes of a child whose new Christmas present had been broken only minutes after being unwrapped. “Look at this,” said Judas, as he held up his torn robe, “I look like a beggar.”

“Can’t you just buy a new one?” Tom asked.

“It’s not up to me. The tax collector has the money,” Judas whined.

“Tax collector?”

“Matthew, he used to be a tax collector,” Judas explained, “Honestly, I think I could do better with the money, but Matthew insisted he had the most experience.”

“Why don’t you just ask for some?” Tom asked.

“I don’t… I couldn’t…”

“Then I will.”

Judas attempted to stop Tom with an outreached arm, but he was too late, Tom was already approaching Jesus, who was still in the boat.

“Your compassion is growing,” Jesus said, as Tom stopped at the boat.

Tom paused. Jesus turned to him. “Helping those in need… aiding Judas. You’re learning my ways.”

“I haven’t changed since the day we met,” Tom said, knowing full well it was a lie.

Jesus smiled. “So you say. Ask your question.”

Tom felt the urge to argue the point, but could see Jesus already had him against the ropes. “Judas ripped his robe when he fell out of the boat. I was…he was wondering if we could give him some money to buy a new robe?”

“Of course,” Jesus said.

That was easy, Tom thought, and then he went a step further. “Actually, Judas wanted to know if you could put him in charge of the money? Matthew is great with money and has experience as a tax collector, but Judas…he’s just not growing and I think he’s up to the challenge of handling our financing.” Tom smiled, attempting to hide his sarcasm over his, “Judas not growing” statement. He felt ridiculous saying it, but it seemed Jesus was taking his request seriously.

Jesus mulled over the proposal. He called Matthew over and said, “Matthew, could I have the money purse?”

Matthew handed a leather sack full of coins to Jesus.

“Judas will be handling the money from now on,” Jesus said, “It will be good experience for him.”

“Are you sure?” Matthew said.

Jesus nodded.

Matthew smiled and rejoined the other disciples who were mingling with a crowd of people who had rounded the outskirts of the sea in the same time the fourteen had sailed across it. Jesus turned to Tom and said, “If you have not become more compassionate, what are you getting for your good deeds today?”

Tom looked over at Judas, still sitting on the sand with his head down and said, “A friend.”

“Indeed…” said Jesus, as he handed the coin purse to Tom. “Go, tell Judas the good news.”

Tom smiled and said, “Thank you.”

Jesus watched Tom walk away, then balanced himself, threw his leg over the side of the boat and pressed his foot into the wet sand.

Greagor’s muscles twitched as Samuel’s head jerked back so fast that it seemed his neck would snap from the force. Samuel’s eyes ballooned, as if they would burst and he immediately stopped shaking. Slowly, mechanically, Samuel cranked his head toward the East, toward Gergesa.

Greagor gripped his sword and slowly drew it, as Samuel stood to his feet. What in the name of Neptune was this man up to now? Perhaps a lion was prowling the valley? Greagor wished it to be true. Let the savages kill each other.

Samuel’s body became rigid, silent, listening. Greagor looked to the East and saw nothing. Believing confrontation was inevitable, Greagor snapped his fingers once, gaining the full attention of his men. He motioned toward Samuel with his head. All four men slowly drew their weapons.