Short Stories

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So from that day on,
they took counsel
how
to put Him
to death.
[John 11:53]
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It's late, on a warm night; most
of the townsfolk have seen to their
animals, and gone to bed. In
one of the lower, lesser used
rooms inside the Temple, however,
a small group of men are gathering.
One by one, each of town Elders
is quietly entering the small, dusty room.
The air is dense with secrecy,
and anxiety. It is heavy with the
smell of dead palm branches.
It is musty with the scent of
withering lilies.
________________________
(Meh'leh, the Chief Pharisee,
turns around quickly to one
of his cohorts, who is talking
a little too loudly.)
"Shhhh!"

(Nitzrah, standing near the curtained
doorway, peers into the cloudless night.)
"Where IS he?"

(Lik'eal shrugs.)
"I don't KNOW.
I saw him, just before evening
PRAYERS. But, then......"
(Again, he shrugs.)

(Meh'leh gives his friend a dark stare.
His words come out in a hiss.)
"He KNOWS of this MEETING!
It was already DISCUSSED!"

(Several of the others, now
crowding into the thickly warm
room, give a quick furtive nod.
For one of them to avoid this
meeting, tonight, would be
akin to high treason.)

(Lik'eal, always anxious to please,
gives another helpless shrug. His
long face, shadowed in the dim
candle light, is wide-eyed with
self-pity.)
"YES!
Meh'leh, you KNOW I passed on
the message, EARLIER, to HIM!
Is it MY FAULT.....?"

"SHHH!"
(Meh'leh hisses again, and leans
toward his younger confidant.
His whispered rebuke painfully
pounds in all listening ears.)
"LIK'EAL! You have the VOICE
of a SCREECH OWL!"
Be QUIET!"

(Lik'eal, relieved to be commanded
to silence, shrinks visibly
against one of the cool stone walls.
Desperately wishing he could remove his
heavy outer cloak, Lik'eal reaches
into the small leather pouch for his
jug of water. All the elders
had agreed on wearing their darkest
clothing for the clandestine meeting,
only they hadn't counted on this
unusually warm and humid night.
It is almost hard to breathe!
Lik'eal's hands tremble with fear,
and excitement, as he raises the small
jug of water to his lips. But
instead of refreshing his dry
mouth, the cool water merely trickles down
his dry throat: tickling his tender
stomach with nausea.)

(A few more moments pass.
Everyone has become very
quiet, waiting for Meh'leh
to give the signal.)

"AH!
GOOD!
Here he HERE!
At LAST!"
(Meh'leh's whispered announcement
creates a small echo, in the little
Temple chamber, unadorned with
any furniture or decoration. Even
the dust on the floor is thick with
the smell of mustiness: the empty,
dusty smell of a hollow tomb.)
"NOW, we can get STARTED!"

(Lik'eal, who has been anxiously
awaiting to sit down on the stone
floor, and rest his cramping
stomach, sighs with relief.
He mumurs, between clenched teeth.)
"Thank God!"

All eyes, of the other Elders,
turn to look at the tall, handsome
figure in the shadowed doorway.
Even though Meh'leh is in charge
of this meeting, it is THIS man
whose intellect they admire,
and respect. Tonight, however,
Nicodemus' normally confident, proud face
is hollow-cheeked, and sweaty. Even
in the pale candle light, it looks
sickly, and drawn. Ducking quietly into
the low doorway, Nicodemus doesn't
say a word, and merely nods
imperceptibly at the Chief Elder.

(Meh'leh gruffly nods back.
For just a hairbreadth of a
moment, his squinted eyes narrow,
rather curiously, on Nicodemus'
intelligent, high-browed face.
Then, seeming to shake the
treacherous thought away,
Meh'leh quickly turns to the others.
Moving his hands slowly
palms downward, he motions
everyone to sit down. His
low voice hisses through the
uncomfortably still room.)
"Let's get started."
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Then
they came up
and laid hands
on Jesus,
and seized Him.
[Matthew 26:50]

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