Christopher Moore - Lamb - The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal

No miracles would come to bring about the release of the prisoners, but neither were there any crucifixions announced in the days that followed. After two weeks had passed with no word of the fate or condition of the men, Maggie, her mother, her aunts, and her sisters went to the synagogue on the Sabbath and appealed to the Pharisees for help.

The next day, the Pharisees from Nazareth, Japhia, and Sepphoris appeared at the Roman garrison to appeal to Justus for the release of the prisoners. I don’t know what they said, or what sort of leverage they could possibly have used to move the Romans, but the following day, just after dawn, the men of Maggie’s family staggered back into our village, beaten, starving, and covered with filth, but very much alive.

There was no feast, no celebration for the return of the prisoners—we Jews walked softly for a few months to allow the Romans to settle down. Maggie seemed distant in the weeks that followed, and Josh and I never saw the smile that could make the breath catch in our throats. She seemed to be avoiding us, rushing out of the square whenever we saw her there, or on the Sabbath, staying so close to the women of her family that we couldn’t talk to her. Finally, after a month had passed, with absolutely no regard for custom or common courtesy, Joshua insisted that we skip work and dragged me by the sleeve to Maggie’s house. She was kneeling on the ground outside the door, grinding some barley with a millstone. We could see her mother moving around in the house and hear the sound of her father and older brother Simon (who was called Lazarus) working the forge next door. Maggie seemed to be lost in the rhythm of grinding the grain, so she didn’t see us approach. Joshua put his hand on her shoulder, and without looking up, she smiled.

“You are supposed to be building a house in Sepphoris,” she said.

“We thought it more important to visit a sick friend.”

“And who would that be?”

“Who do you think?”

“I’m not sick. In fact, I’ve been healed by the touch of the Messiah.”

“I think not,” said Joshua.

She finally looked up at him and her smile evaporated. “I can’t be friends with you two anymore,” she said. “Things have changed.”

“What, because your uncle was a Sicarii?” I said. “Don’t be silly.”

“No, because my mother made a bargain to get Iban to convince the other Pharisees to go to Sepphoris and plead for the men’s lives.”

“What kind of bargain?” Joshua asked.

“I am betrothed.” She looked at the millstone again and a tear dripped into the powdered grain.

We were both stunned. Josh took his hand from her shoulder and stepped back, then looked at me as if there was something I could do. I felt as if I would start crying at any second myself. I managed to choke out, “Who to?”

“To Jakan,” Maggie said with a sob.

“Iban’s son? The creep? The bully?”

Maggie nodded. Joshua covered his mouth and ran a few steps away, then threw up. I was tempted to join him, but instead I crouched in front of Maggie.

“How long before you’re married?”

“I’m to be married a month after the Passover feast. Mother made him wait six months.”

“Six months! Six months! That’s forever, Maggie. Why, Jakan could be killed in a thousand heinous ways in six months, and that’s just the ones I can think of right now. Why, someone could turn him in to the Romans for being a rebel. I’m not saying who, but someone might. It could happen.”

“I’m sorry, Biff.”

“Don’t be sorry for me, why would you be sorry for me?”

“I know how you feel, so I’m sorry.”

I was thrown for a second. I glanced at Joshua to see if he could give me a clue, but he was still absorbed in splattering his breakfast in the dirt.

“But it’s Joshua who you love?” I finally said.

“Does that make you feel any better?”

“Well, no.”

“Then I’m sorry.” She made as if to reach out to touch my cheek, but her mother called her before she made contact.

“Right now, Mary, in this house!”

Maggie nodded toward the barfing Messiah. “Take care of him.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“And take care of yourself.”

“I’ll be fine too, Maggie. Don’t forget I have an emergency backup wife. Besides, it’s six months. A lot can happen in six months. It’s not like we won’t see you.” I was trying to sound more hopeful than I felt.

“Take Joshua home,” she said. Then she quickly kissed me on the cheek and ran into the house.

Joshua was completely against the idea of murdering Jakan, or even praying for harm to come to him. If anything, Joshua seemed more kindly disposed toward Jakan than he had been before, going as far as to seek him out and congratulate him on his betrothal to Maggie, an act that left me feeling angry and betrayed. I confronted Joshua in the olive grove, where he had gone to pray among the twisted tree trunks.

“You coward,” I said, “you could strike him down if you wanted to.”

“As could you,” he replied.

“Yeah, but you can call the wrath of God down upon him. I’d have to sneak up behind him and brain him with a rock. There’s a difference.”

“And you would have me kill Jakan for what, your bad luck?”

“Works for me.”

“Is it so hard for you to give up what you never had?”

“I had hope, Josh. You understand hope, don’t you?” Sometimes he could be mightily dense, or so I thought. I didn’t realize how much he was hurting inside, or how much he wanted to do something.

“I think I understand hope, I’m just not sure that I am allowed to have any.”

“Oh, don’t start with that ‘Everyone gets something but me’ speech. You’ve got plenty.”

Josh wheeled on me, his eyes like fire, “Like what? What do I have?”

“Uh…” I wanted to say something about a really sexy mother, but that didn’t seem like the sort of thing he wanted to hear. “Uh, you have God.”

“So do you. So does everyone.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Not the Romans.”

“There are Roman Jews.”

“Well, you’ve got, uh—that healing-raising-the-dead thing.”

“Oh yeah, and that’s working really well.”

“Well, you’re the Messiah, what’s that? That’s something. If you told people you were the Messiah they’d have to do what you say.”

“I can’t tell them.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how to be the Messiah.”

“Well, at least do something about Maggie.”

“He can’t,” came a voice from behind a tree. A golden glow emanated from either side of the trunk.

“Who’s there?” Joshua called.

The angel Raziel stepped out from behind the tree.

“Angel of the Lord,” I said under my breath to Josh.

“I know,” he said, in a “you seen one, you seen ’em all” way.

“He can’t do anything,” the angel repeated.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because he may not know any woman.”

“I may not?” Joshua said, not sounding at all happy.

“He may not in that he should not, or that he cannot?” I asked.

The angel scratched his golden head, “I didn’t think to ask.”

“It’s kind of important,” I said.

“Well, he can’t do anything about Mary Magdalene, I know that. They told me to come and tell him that. That and that it is time for him to go.”

“Go where?”

“I didn’t think to ask.”

I suppose I should have been frightened, but I seemed to have passed right through frightened to exasperated. I stepped up to the angel and poked him in the chest. “Are you the same angel that came to us before, to announce the coming of the Savior?”

“It was the Lord’s will that I bring that joyful news.”