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

“I think he’s drowning Shem.”

“Baptizing,” Joshua said.

“My mother will be happy that Shem’s sins have been cleansed, but I have to think we’re going to be in a lot of trouble if he drowns in the process.”

“Good point,” Josh said. He stepped into the water. “John! Stop that!”

John looked at him and seemed a little perplexed. “Cousin Joshua?”

“Yes. John, let him up.”

“He has sinned,” John said, as if that said it all.

“I’ll take care of his sins.”

“You think you’re the one, don’t you? Well, you’re not. My birth was announced by an angel as well. It was prophesied that I would lead. You’re not the one.”

“We should talk about this in another place. Let him up, John. He’s cleansed.”

John let my brother pop out of the water and I ran down and dragged him and all the other kids out of the river.

“Wait, the others haven’t been cleansed. They are filthy with sin.”

Joshua stepped between his brother James, who would have been the next one dunked, and the Baptist. “You won’t tell Mother about this, will you?”

Halfway between terrified and furious, James was tearing at the knots, trying to untie the rope from around his neck. He clearly wanted revenge on his big brother, but at the same time he didn’t want to give up his brother’s protection from John.

“If we let John baptize you long enough, you won’t be able to tell your mother, will you, James?” Me, just trying to help out.

“I won’t tell,” James said. He looked back at John, who was still staring as if he’d dash out and grab someone to cleanse any second. “He’s our cousin?”

“Yes,” Joshua said. “The son of our mother’s cousin Elizabeth.”

“When did you meet him before?”

“I haven’t.”

“Then how did you know him.”

“I just did.”

“He’s a loony,” said James. “You’re both loonies.”

“Yes, a family trait. Maybe when you get older you can be a loony too. You won’t tell Mother.”

“No.”

“Good,” Joshua said. “You and Biff get the kids moving, will you?”

I nodded, shooting a glance back to John. “James is right, Josh. He is a loony.”

“I heard that, sinner!” John shouted. “Perhaps you need to be cleansed.”

John and his parents shared supper with us that evening. I was surprised that John’s parents were older than Joseph—older than my grandparents even. Joshua told me that John’s birth had been a miracle, announced by the angel. Elizabeth, John’s mother, talked about it all through supper, as if it had happened yesterday instead of thirteen years ago. When the old woman paused to take a breath, Joshua’s mother started in about the divine announcement of her own son’s birth. Occasionally my mother, feeling the need to exhibit some maternal pride that she didn’t really feel, would chime in as well.

“You know, Biff wasn’t announced by an angel, but locusts ate our garden and Alphaeus had gas for a month around the time he would have been conceived. I think it might have been a sign. That certainly didn’t happen with my other boys.”

Ah, Mother. Did I mention that she was besought with a demon?

After supper, Joshua and I built our own fire, away from the others, hoping that Maggie would seek us out, but it turned out that only John joined us.

“You are not the anointed one,” John said to Joshua. “Gabriel came to my father. Your angel didn’t even have a name.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about these things,” Joshua said.

“The angel told my father that his son would prepare the way for the Lord. That’s me.”

“Fine, I want nothing more than for you to be the Messiah, John.”

“Really?” John asked. “But your mother seems so, so…”

“Josh can raise the dead,” I said.

John shifted his insane gaze to me, and I scooted away from him in case he tried to hit me. “He cannot,” John said.

“Yep, I’ve seen it twice.”

“Don’t, Biff,” Josh said.

“You’re lying. Bearing false witness is a sin,” John said. The Baptist started to look more panicked than angry.

“I’m not very good at it,” Joshua said.

John’s eyes went wide, now with amazement instead of madness. “You have done this? You have raised the dead?”

“And healed the sick,” I said.

John grabbed me by the front of my tunic and pulled me close, staring into my eyes as if he was looking into my head. “You aren’t lying, are you?” He looked at Joshua. “He’s not lying, is he?”

Joshua shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

John released me, let out a long sigh, then sat back in the dirt. The firelight caught tears sparkling in his eyes as he stared at nothing. “I am so relieved. I didn’t know what I would do. I don’t know how to be the Messiah.”

“Neither do I,” said Joshua.

“Well, I hope you really can raise the dead,” John said, “because this will kill my mother.”

We walked with John for the next three days, through Samaria, into Judea, and finally into the holy city. Fortunately, there weren’t many rivers or streams along the way, so we were able to keep his baptisms to a minimum. His heart was in the right place, he really did want to cleanse our people of their sins, it was just that no one would believe that God would give that responsibility to a thirteen-year-old. To keep John happy, Josh and I let him baptize our little brothers and sisters at every body of water we passed, at least until Josh’s little sister Miriam developed the sniffles and Joshua had to perform an emergency healing on her.

“You really can heal,” John exclaimed.

“Well, the sniffles are easy,” Joshua said. “A little mucus is nothing against the power of the Lord.”

“Would—would you mind?” John said, lifting up his tunic and showing his bare privates, which were covered with sores and greenish scales.

“Cover, please cover!” I yelled. “Drop the shirt and step away!”

“That’s disgusting,” Joshua said.

“Am I unclean? I’ve been afraid to ask my father, and I can’t go to a Pharisee, not with my father being a priest. I think it’s from standing in the water all of the time. Can you heal me?”

(I have to say here that I believe that this was the first time Joshua’s little sister Miriam ever saw a man’s privates. She was only six at the time, but the experience so frightened her that she never married. The last time anyone heard from her, she had cut her hair short, put on men’s clothes, and moved to the Greek island of Lesbos. But that was later.)

“Have at it, Josh,” I said. “Lay your hands upon the affliction and heal it.”

Joshua shot me a dirty look, then looked back to his cousin John, with nothing but compassion in his eyes. “My mother has some salve you can put on it,” he said. “Let’s see if that works first.”

“I’ve tried salve,” John said.

“I was afraid you had,” said Joshua.

“Have you tried rubbing it with olive oil?” I asked. “It probably won’t cure you, but it might take your mind off of it.”

“Biff, please. John is afflicted.”

“Sorry.”

Joshua said, “Come here, John.”

“Oh, jeez, Joshua,” I said. “You’re not going to touch it, are you? He’s unclean. Let him live with the lepers.”

Joshua put his hands on John’s head and the Baptist’s eyes rolled back in his head. I thought he would fall, and he did waver, but remained standing.

“Father, you have sent this one to prepare the way. Let him go forth with his body as clean as his spirit.”

Joshua released his cousin and stepped back. John opened his eyes and smiled. “I am healed!” he yelled. “I am healed.”