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

“Let me see.” Martha tapped her fingernail on her chin while she searched her memory in the night sky. “Were you the one who changed the water into wine? Son of God, was it?”

“There’s no need to be that way,” Joshua said.

I popped my head around Josh’s shoulder. “I gave your sister a powder that sort of foamed her up all red and green. She’s a bit nasty-looking right now.”

“I’m sure that becomes her,” said Martha, with an exasperated sigh. “Come in.” She led us inside. I stood by the door while Joshua sat on the floor by the table. Martha took Maggie to the back of the house to help her clean up. It was a large house by our country standards, but not nearly as big as Jakan’s. Still, Simon had done well for the son of a blacksmith. I didn’t see Simon anywhere.

“Come sit at the table,” Joshua said.

“Nope, I’m fine by the door here.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you know whose house this is?”

“Of course, Maggie’s brother Simon’s.”

I lowered my voice. “imon-Say the eper-Lay.”

“Come sit down. I’ll watch over you.”

“Nope. I’m fine here.”

Just then Simon came in from the other room carrying a pitcher of wine and a tray of cups in his rag-wrapped hands. White linen covered his face except for his eyes, which were as clear and blue as Maggie’s.

“Welcome, Joshua, Levi—it’s been a long time.”

We’d known Simon as boys, spending as much time as we did hanging around Maggie’s father’s shop, but he had been older, learning his father’s craft then, and far too serious to be associating with boys. In my memory he was strong and tall, but now the leprosy had bent him over like an old woman.

Simon set the cups down and poured for the three of us. I remained against the wall by the door. “Martha doesn’t take well to serving,” Simon said, by way of apologizing for doing the serving himself. “She tells me that you turned water into wine at the wedding in Cana.”

“Simon,” Joshua said, “I can heal your affliction, if you’ll allow me.”

“What affliction?” He lay down at the table across from Joshua. “Biff, come sit with us.” He patted a cushion next to him and I ducked in the event that fingers started flying. “I understand that Jakan used my sister as bait for a trap for you two.”

“Not much of a trap,” Joshua said.

“You expected that?” I asked.

“I thought there would be more, the whole Pharisee council perhaps. I wanted to answer them directly, not have my words passed through a dozen spies and rumormongers. I also wanted to see if there would be any Sadducees there.”

Just then I realized what Joshua had already figured out: the Sadducees, the priests, weren’t involved in Jakan’s little surprise inquisition. They had been born to their power, and were not as easily threatened as the working-class Pharisees. And the Sadducees were the more powerful half of the Sanhedrin, the ones who commanded the soldiers of the Temple guard. Without the priests, the Pharisees were vipers without fangs, for now anyway.

“I hope we haven’t brought the judgment of the Pharisees down on your head, Simon,” Joshua said.

Simon waved a hand in dismissal. “Not to worry. There’ll be no Pharisees coming here. Jakan is terrified of me, and if he really believes that Maggie is possessed, and if his friends believe it, well, I’d bet he’s divorced her already.”

“She can come back to Galilee with us,” I said, looking at Joshua, who looked at Simon, as if to ask permission.

“She may do as she wishes.”

“What I wish is to get out of Bethany before Jakan comes to his senses,” Maggie said, coming from the other room. She wore a simple woolen dress and her hair was still dripping. There was still green goo on her sandals. She came across the room, knelt down, and gave her brother a huge hug, then a kiss on the eyebrow. “If he comes by or sends word, you’ll tell him I’m still here.”

I sensed Simon was smiling under the veil. “You don’t think he’ll want to come in and look around?”

“The coward,” Maggie spat.

“Amen,” I said. “How did you stay with a creep like that all of these years?”

“After the first year he didn’t want to be anywhere near me. Unclean, don’t you know? I told him I was bleeding.”

“For all those years?”

“Sure. Do you think he would embarrass himself among the members of the Pharisee council by asking them about their own wives?”

Joshua said, “I can heal you of that affliction, if you’ll allow me, Maggie.”

“What affliction?”

“You should go,” Simon said. “I’ll send word about what Jakan has done as soon as I know. If he hasn’t done it already, I have a friend who will plant the idea that if he doesn’t divorce Maggie his place on the Sanhedrin might be questioned.”

Simon and Martha waved to us from the doorway, Martha looking like a compact ghost of her older sister and Simon just looking like a ghost.

And thus did we become eleven.

There was a full moon and a sky full of stars thrown over us as we walked back to Gethsemane. From the top of the Mount of Olives we could see across the Kidron Valley to the Temple. Black smoke streamed into the sky from the sacrificial fires which the priests tended day and night. I held Maggie’s hand as we walked through the grove of ancient olive trees and out into the clearing near the oil press where we camped. Philip and Nathaniel had built a fire and there were two strangers sitting by it with them. They all stood up as we approached. Philip glared at me, which baffled me until I remembered that he’d been with us at Cana, and seen Joshua and Maggie dancing at the wedding. He thought I was trying to steal Joshua’s girl. I let her hand go.

“Master,” said Nathaniel, tossing his yellow hair, “new disciples. These are Thaddeus and Thomas the Twins.”

Thaddaeus stepped up to Joshua. He was about my height and age, and wore a tattered woolen tunic and looked especially gaunt, as if he might be starving. His hair was cut short like a Roman’s, but it looked as if someone had cut it with a dull piece of flint. Somehow he looked familiar.

“Rabbi, I heard you preach when you were with John. I have been with him for two years.”

A follower of John, that’s where I knew him from, although I didn’t remember meeting him. That explained the hungry look as well.

“Welcome, Thaddaeus,” Joshua said. “These are Biff and Mary Magdalene, disciples and friends.”

“Call me Maggie,” Maggie said.

Joshua stepped over to Thomas the Twins, who was only one guy, younger, perhaps twenty, his beard still like soft down in places, his clothes finer than any of ours. “And Thomas.”

“Don’t, you’re standing on Thomas Two,” Thomas squealed.

Nathaniel pushed Joshua aside and whispered in his ear a little too loudly. “He sees his twin but no one else can. You said to show mercy, so I haven’t told him that he’s mad.”

“And so you shall be shown mercy, Nathaniel,” Joshua said.

“So we won’t tell you that you’re a ninny,” I added.

“Welcome, Thomas,” Joshua said, embracing the boy.

“And Thomas Two,” Thomas said.

“Forgive me. Welcome, Thomas Two, as well,” said Joshua to a perfectly empty spot in space. “Come to Galilee and help us spread the good news.”

“He’s over there,” said Thomas, pointing to a different spot, equally empty.

And thus did we become thirteen.

On the trip back to Capernaum Maggie told us about her life, about the dreams she had set aside, and about a child that had died in the first year of her marriage. I could see Joshua was shaken when he heard of the child, and I knew he was thinking that if we hadn’t taken off to the East, he would have been there to save it.