Short Stories

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"He's coming," Miriam shouted through cupped hands.
"Who?"
"Who do you think?"

My wife was standing on the hill by our house. She was
waving frantically, beckoning me to come back. I was
already halfway down the valley and didn't know what to
do. Uncle had told me to get the village oxen and plough
the north field. He wanted to start sowing corn the next
day. There'd be hell to pay if it wasn't done by sundown.

He'd promised I could have that field one day, but only
if I proved myself capable of looking after it.

"You've got a family now," he said. "It's about time
you started to act your age. You're 25 years old. At your
age I was managing a whole farm."

Upsetting uncle was the last thing I wanted.

"Come on, you'll miss him."
"Damn," I muttered. "Why couldn't he come on my day
off."

But I couldn't miss him, not the one everyone was
talking about. I turned and started running.

It wasn't midday yet, but it was already hot. The sun
beat down as I struggled against the incline. The walk
home was normally taken at a leisurely pace, after a long
day in the fields. The shadows would be long and a cool
breeze would blow down the hill. Miriam would be waiting
with some hot vegetable soup and fresh bread.

I hadn't run up this hill since I was a boy. One day,
long in the future, I'd watch my own children racing up
here, and when I'm old and grey they'll work the fields
for me and come home to look after their doting father.

It surprised me how quickly I reached the top. Sweat
was dripping from my forehead when Miriam grabbed my
wrist and started pulling me down the other side, down
towards the village.

"Give me a chance will you, let me get my breath back."
"No time," she said as she dragged me along.
Little Joshua came flying out the door.
"Daddy," he screamed and promptly tripped over a rock.
"I told you to clear that path last week," Miriam said.
"If only you'd do as I ask instead of skulking off to the
village with those fishermen friends of yours."
I picked Joshua up and dusted him off, just as he
started wailing.
"There, there," I said. "Daddy'll kiss it better."

I gave him a cuddle and heaved him up onto my
shoulders. He was five years old and light as a feather.
Joshua kicked his legs in excitement. I grabbed them
tighter and followed Miriam steadily down the hill. She
kept trying to up the pace, but I resisted.

"He's not going anywhere fast," I told her. "He's
surrounded by crowds everywhere he goes. Poor sod
probably never gets a minute's quiet."
Miriam stopped and turned around. She looked cross.
"You shouldn't say things like that. It's not right."

The village was deserted. All the shutters on the
carpenter's workshop were closed. The mill was empty
except for a few ghostly puffs of flour. The bakers'
ovens were lit, but there was no bread for sale. Even the
synagogue had been shut for the day.

It was market day, so we headed for the square. Stall
holders loitered gloomily, frustrated by the lack
of customers. I asked a man with a noisy bleating lamb
where everyone was.

"They're all down at the harbour, listening to that
bloody preacher. I came all the way from Capernaum to
sell this lamb and I'll be bloody pissed off if I have to
go all the way back with nothing to show for it."
The lamb bleated. The man bared his teeth at it.

We made our way down to the Sea of Galilee. The boats
were in. Looked like a bumper catch, but no one was
paying any attention to the fish.

"They'll go off if they don't get them salted and
smoked," I said.
"How can you think about fish at a time like this,"
Miriam scolded me. "Don't you know who that is?"
She pointed to the jostling crowd by the harbour wall.
I couldn't see him. He was buried among the villagers.
"No," I said. "I don't know who that is, and neither do
you. I'd rather have an extra pair of hands to help with
uncle's fields than another messiah."
"Why are you here then?"
I had no answer so I stayed silent.

The crowd settled down. They were listening to him
speak.
"Come on, let's see if we can't get a bit closer,"
Miriam said.
I shuffled down the steps, trying to keep little Joshua
balanced on my shoulders. Miriam ran ahead, forcing her
way through the crowd, rapidly disappearing from view.
"Miriam," I shouted. "Where are you?"
Half a dozen people turned round and shushed me.
I tried to push in after her, but no one would give
way, so I stood my ground and tried to catch the
preacher's words.

"No one can be with me unless he rejects his family. No
one can put wife or husband, or father or sister before
me."

It didn't sound that inspiring. He's not going to get
many followers with a message like that, I thought. But
there was something in his voice, a calm but insistent
authority. It was like drinking honeyed wine, warm and
soothing.

For a second the heads in front of me parted and I
caught a glimpse of the famous rabbi from Nazareth. He
was a handsome man. I could understand why he was so
popular. He took obvious delight in the people around
him, smiling like a father watching his children play.
There wasn't a hint of arrogance or pride. Utterly
confident in everything he said. I listened some more.

"Don't worry about tomorrow. Do the sparrows worry? Do
the lilies of the field worry? Yet I tell you, Solomon in
all his splendour was not clothed as one of these. You
are far more important than sparrows or lilies, don't you
think your heavenly father will take care of you?"

Yes, I thought, yes that makes sense. I took Joshua off
my shoulders and put him on the ground. He immediately
started crying and I got cross looks from the people
around me. He went back on my shoulders again.

"You have been poor all your life. Worried about your
future and your place in the world. You feel like a pawn
amongst powerful men, forever eating the scraps that fall
from their table. It's a constant struggle. You dream of
wealth and idleness, but these are false dreams. They
will not bring you happiness. I am here to relieve you of
your burdens. Believe what I say and you will be free."

It was as if he knew me and was talking to me alone.
Everything he said was so true. He knew my thoughts. I
had always been poor. I had always worried about the
future. Every decision in my life had always been made by
others.

Then the heads parted once more and he turned and
looked at me. I was stripped naked before him. All my
fears and most secret desires were laid bare. His eyes,
those magical piercing blue eyes, tunnelled into the very
depth of my soul. And for reasons I couldn't understand,
tears welled up from my throat. Copious tears, pouring
down my face, as if the cares of the world had suddenly
been lifted from me.

He smiled, and love poured through that smile,
embracing me, filling me, consuming me. Making me feel
special and wanted. Then he mouthed those irresistible
words.
"Follow me."

Miriam tapped me on the shoulder.
"What's the matter with you?" she said.
I took little Joshua off my shoulders once more and
placed him in his mother's hands.
"I have to leave," I said.
"What?"
"I have to leave, he's calling me to him."
"What on earth are you talking about? You've got a
field to plough and a path to clear, and don't think
after that you're going to idle around the house all
night."
I put my finger to her lips.
"I love you Miriam, I love you and little Josh with all
my heart, but I love him more. I can't explain it.
Somehow, I know I have a destiny with him. I must do it.
I must do as he asks."

She looked at me as if I were mad. Maybe I was mad. I
pushed my way through, ignoring the tuts and complaints
and punches on the arm. When I got to the front he
stopped speaking and smiled at me again.

The tears gushed forth. I thought I should feel
ashamed, a grown man crying in public, but I didn't care.
He brushed my tears away gently with his finger.
"Don't be afraid," he said as he kissed me on the
cheek. "Many are called, but few are chosen. You will be
one of my twelve disciples, perhaps the greatest of them
all. I have a very special purpose for you. Believe me,
history will know your name, Judas Iscariot."

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