Son of Mary

by R. S. Ingermanson

I do not know what to say to that. I think Rabbi Yeshua should read the scriptures more. The wrath of HaShem is real. The wrath of HaShem is coming. The wrath of HaShem will punish evildoers.

  “HaShem says I am to go through all Galilee and tell the good news of the kingdom of HaShem.”

  My heart races. That means I will go with him. And Shimon the Rock and Big Yaakov and Andre. “When will we leave? Are we going to make a big army? Will you take your mother? Will we go to Nazareth for Little Yaakov and your other brothers? Is it time to smite the first Power? Are you going to do more mighty wonders? What will we eat?”

  Rabbi Yeshua makes a big grin and stands up. He gives me a strong right hand and pulls me to my feet. “We are going to your father’s house, where we will eat as much as we can hold. Then your mother and your sisters will kiss you many times until you are sick to your death of being kissed. Then we will walk to Bethsaida to find Philip and Natanel the hireling. After that, HaShem will tell us what to do.”

  I jump up and down for my excitement. All of that sounds wonderful except for the matter of being kissed. The kingdom of HaShem is about to begin.

  But I will have to keep explaining the wrath of HaShem to Rabbi Yeshua until he understands it.

  Shimon of Capernaum

  My woman shakes me awake before it is dawn. “Shimon, there is some man at the gate asking for Rabbi Yeshua. He says strange things, and I do not know what to say to him.”

  I do not wish to speak to some strange man. I wish to sleep another hour. “You should send him away.”

  “He refuses to be sent away by a woman. He says he is a friend of yours, but I never heard you speak on him.”

  “What is his name?”

  “He says he built a boat for your father. He says it was the best boat ever made in the whole world.”

  My head fills with a mighty pounding, and my stomach raises a sour taste in the back of my throat. I leap out of bed and throw on my cloak. “That can only be Toma Trouble.”

  “Why do you call him Toma Trouble?”

  I wrap my cloth belt around my waist twice and tuck it under itself. I push my feet into my sandals.

  “Why do you call him Toma Trouble?”

  “I will send him away. Rabbi Yeshua does not wish to speak with him.”

  “Why do you call him Toma Trouble?”

  I hurry out of my room into the main courtyard of my father’s house. My mother and the servant girls are cooking the morning meal.

  I reach the gate to the street and go out.

  Toma Trouble paces back and forth, muttering to himself.

  I scowl on him. “What do you want?”

  Toma Trouble makes a big grin on me. “I saw Rabbi Yeshua send away the evil spirit from Yoseph the Rage yesterday with a word. That is a sign of the logos, yes?”

  I do not know what is a logos. I think it is some Greekish foolishness. I do not care what it means, but I want Toma Trouble gone before Rabbi Yeshua comes here. “You should go home. Rabbi Yeshua is not here.”

  “I heard he came here. I heard your woman’s mother had the summer fever. I heard Rabbi Yeshua sent the fever away with a word. Did you see? Is it true? I did not see it, and therefore I think I should not believe it. Only I saw Rabbi Yeshua send away the evil spirit yesterday with a word, and that is reason to think he could send away a fever with a word. What did you see, and what do you know on the matter?”

  Toma Trouble always talks about what a man can know and what he can believe. I am sick to my death of him. All that he says is a babbling in my ears. “Go home. Rabbi Yeshua is not here.”

  “Do you know where he is? I heard he was staying here. If he is not here, then I should go to the House of Zavdai. What do you think, is he there? I heard that Yohanan the son of Zavdai is a friend on Rabbi Yeshua. Do you know? Is it true? If there is one man in the whole village who is not a complete fool, it is that Yohanan, only he talks too much.”

  Toma Trouble is the only person in the village who calls Yoni by his whole name, which is Yohanan. I think it is a matter of the sow calling the boar fat for Toma Trouble to say Yoni talks too much. It is true Yoni talks too much, but he is the Genius of Capernaum. Toma Trouble is not. If he is anything, he is the Fool of Capernaum, only I would be guilty of the Evil Tongue to say it, so I will not say it, even if it is true.

  Anyway, I know Toma Trouble is easy to turn aside by asking him about boats. “I heard you are making a new boat for Yair the synagogue president. Is it true?”

  Toma Trouble nods. “It will be the best boat ever made in the whole world, even better than the one I made for your—”

  “Shimon the Rock!” Yoni shouts from far up the street. “Do you know what we are going to do today? First, we are going to my house to eat as much as we can hold. Then my mother and sisters will kiss me many times until I am sick to my death of being kissed. Then we are going to Bethsaida to find Philip and Natanel the hireling. Then HaShem will tell us what to do. Rabbi Yeshua is about to make his move!”

  I would shush Yoni’s shouting if I could, but nobody ever shushed Yoni.

  Toma Trouble turns to look up the street.

  Yoni walks toward us.

  Holding Rabbi Yeshua’s hand.

  Toma Trouble grins and strides toward them. “Rabbi Yeshua, I wish to ask you a riddle.”

  I hurry after him. I should warn Rabbi Yeshua away, or Toma Trouble will tie him in a big knot.

  Rabbi Yeshua comes forward and makes a grin on Toma Trouble. “Shalom, friend. My name is called Yeshua from Nazareth.”

  Toma Trouble extends a hand to him. “My name is called Toma the boat maker.”

  Rabbi Yeshua greets him with a strong right hand.

  “What do you want, Toma Trouble?” says Yoni.

  “I want Yohanan Talk-Talk to not talk while I discuss a matter with the rabbi.”

  Yoni scowls on him. “Did you come to ask Rabbi Yeshua a riddle about a logic? He will make a piss on your logic.”

  Rabbi Yeshua shrugs and makes a grin on Yoni. “That is a matter you should teach me sometime, Yoni, how to make a piss on a logic. What is your riddle, Toma the boat maker?”

  “If there are two men, and each has two fish, that is four fish.”

  “That is not a riddle.”

  “I am not done yet. If there are four men, and each has four fish, that is ten fish and six.”

  “That is still not a riddle.”

  “I am still not done. If there are ten men and six, and each has ten fish and six, how many fish is that?”

  Rabbi Yeshua stands thinking hard on the matter.

  That is why all Capernaum hates Toma Trouble. He makes riddles that are not riddles. They are only matters of counting. Toma makes a large matter on the number two. Yoni says it is because Toma is a twin. I do not think that is a reason. There are other twins in Capernaum, and they do not make foolish riddles on the matter of two and four and eight. Toma Trouble can tell you what is two of two of two of two taken many times. I do not see why anyone should care on the matter.

  At last Rabbi Yeshua says, “Toma the boat maker, that is a good riddle, but it is too hard for me.”

  “It is two hundreds and fifty and six fish,” Yoni says.

  Toma Trouble nods. “I already knew you could answer the riddle, Yohanan. I came to see if the rabbi could answer it.”

  I spit in the dirt. “It is a foolish riddle. The rabbi is concerned on the kingdom of HaShem—”

  “It is not a foolish riddle,” says Toma Trouble. “There is a deep matter in the number two and in the numbers that come from two. How do you think HaShem made the world, if he did not know this deep matter?”

  That is such a foolish thing, I do not know how to answer.

  Rabbi Yeshua puts a hand on Toma Trouble’s shoulder. “Friend, you should come eat with us at the House of Zavdai and explain to me why the matter of the number two is a deep thing of HaShem. I knew a philosophos in Tsipori who—”

  “You knew a philosophos?”
Toma Trouble stares on him like a starving man who hears there is free bread in the market square.

  “I built a house for him, and he explained a matter called logic to me,” Rabbi Yeshua says.

  Sometimes I think I should beat my head with a stick until it cracks open. Saying the word logic to Toma Trouble is like slitting open a sheep at dusk when the wild jackals come out to hunt. I do not know what this thing logic is, but it is some Greekish matter and I am sure it is a wickedness and a lie.

  Now we will not be rid of Toma Trouble for a week.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Yaakov of Nazareth

  I stand and stretch my back, which aches from the hard work of the day. “We should go to the village square.”

  My brothers all nod.

  “The stranger must have heard news of Yeshua,” Yosi says.

  Yehuda Dreamhead and Thin Shimon draw invisible swords and begin dueling.

  My woman makes the tsk sound she always makes. “Grown men should know swords are not a game.”

  My woman does not understand matters of war.

  We had a traveler come to the village today. I asked the elders for the honor of giving hospitality, but they gave it to Shmuel the iron-man. So we have to wait to hear the news with the rest of the village.

  I am desperate to hear it. Our brother Yeshua has been gone more than five weeks. We have heard nothing since then. I do not think it was wise for him to go to Capernaum. His friends threw him off, so why should he go there? And it was foolish to take Imma with him. Most foolish of all was that he refused to take me. I am still angry on the matter.

  Yosi’s woman nurses her younger son. Thin Shimon’s woman and Yehuda Dreamhead’s woman are cleaning the cook pot. My woman looks on me with desire burning in her eyes.

  I feel a big heat in my belly. After I hear the traveler’s news, there will be time enough to warm my hands at my woman’s fire. I will make her shout louder than she ever did, enough to wake the whole house.

  My brothers and I walk to the village square with Uncle Halfai and our cousin, Fat Shimon. My woman and Uncle Halfai’s woman follow behind us.

  Most of the village is already there.

  We sit in a comfortable place and wait.

  Shmuel the iron-man stands with the elders and the traveler, making a big grin while he tells some jest. When he finishes, the elders and the traveler laugh.

  When all is silent, Shmuel the iron-man turns to the villagers and tells the traveler’s name, which is Elazar. He is a man from Banias in the far north, at the place where the waters from the Jordan River spring out of the great rock. Shmuel the iron-man says Elazar has news of a man from Nazareth.

  All my body feels hot.

  Elazar tells how he was in Yodefat two weeks ago. Yodefat is a village north of here by a walk of half a day. He tells how one of the men of the village had a daughter with an evil spirit that sometimes threw her on the ground and made her foam in the mouth. The girl was of an age to be married, but no man would take her on account of the evil spirit.

  The same day Elazar came to Yodefat, eight other men came also, along with one old woman. They asked in the village square if there were sick people in the village or any with evil spirits. They said these were the last days, and the kingdom of HaShem was at hand, and HaShem would heal all who were sick and would send away all evil spirits.

  The people of Yodefat brought out many sick, and they were healed.

  They brought a man with a shriveled arm, and he was made whole.

  They brought the girl with the evil spirit, and there was a mighty battle. The leader of the men tried all night to send away the evil spirit, but it would not go. He tried all the next day, but it would not go. He spent the whole next night praying to HaShem. In the morning, he went back to the house of the girl and sent away the evil spirit with one word.

  Elazar stops talking for a moment. There is a look of wonder on his face. “I saw the thing with these eyes. I heard it with these ears. The man who did these mighty deeds is named Yeshua. He said he comes from Nazareth. What do you know of him?”

  “We know Yeshua the tekton,” says Shmuel the iron-man. “He is a tsaddik, but we never heard he could send away evil spirits.”

  “And he heals people,” says Elazar. “I saw it. The man with the shriveled arm—”

  “Yeshua never healed anyone,” says Shimon the baker.

  “Yes, he did,” Yehuda Dreamhead says.

  Old Yonatan the leather-man shakes his head. “He never did. If he heals people, why does he do it in other villages, and not here? He should heal people here first, and not dishonor us by healing other villages.”

  I stand up. “Yeshua healed Thin Shimon at Pesach in Jerusalem. He was as good as dead, and Yeshua healed him. It was a mighty wonder. I saw it with these—”

  “We never saw it,” says another voice.

  My underparts ache when I hear that voice.

  Yoseph the leather-man grins. “Yeshua the tekton is the son of the spreadlegs.”

  Red spots fill my eyes. All in one instant, my temples pound with hate and my fists harden to stones and I lunge forward.

  The arms of my brothers are quicker than snakes to catch me, holding me back.

  All I can see is the sneer on the face of Yoseph the leather-man.

  All I can smell is the haryo on Imma’s clothes on the day she came back from the spring.

  All I can feel is the mighty pain in my underparts.

  I throw myself forward with all my strength, desperate to get loose.

  Yoseph the leather-man’s voice rises on the night air, singing his evil song.

  “Once there was a mamzer boy

  A mamzer boy

  A mamzer boy.

  Once there was a mamzer boy

  Yeshua was his name.”

  I break free of my brothers’ grip.

  I rush at Yoseph the leather-man, hot with my rage.

  He rushes at me, his eyes glowing with hate.

  I smash into him with a mighty smash. I claw at his throat to squeeze the breath out of him.

  He twists to one side and staggers free, gasping for air.

  I leap at him again, forcing my advantage.

  He tries to back away but trips and falls flat on his back.

  I dive forward.

  He raises one knee.

  I impale myself on his knee.

  Pain knifes up through my underparts.

  All the strength goes out of my body.

  The world turns dark and cold.

  I hear men shouting.

  My brothers pull me away.

  The pain is like an ax blow between my legs.

  Yoseph’s voice sounds very far away. “Your mother spreads her legs for a dinar. I had her myself when I was a boy and made her shout louder than your woman ever did.”

  I weep for my rage. Tears blur my eyes, and I gag as I will vomit.

  “Yoseph the leather-man, your breath smells like piss,” says Yosi. “Little Yaakov, come home with us.”

  Strong hands help me stand.

  I feel as I will die from the pain in my underparts. I wish I will die, to make the pain stop.

  “Yeshua will come back to Nazareth soon,” Yehuda Dreamhead says. “He will come back with an army.”

  He should come soon.

  He should come and kill Yoseph the leather-man.

  Only I know Yeshua, and he is weak-minded.

  He will not kill Yoseph the leather-man.

  He will not kill anyone.

  So I will.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Miryam of Nazareth

  Sometimes I wish I had not begged to come with my son. Every day we walk to a new village. The villagers are eager to give hospitality and hear the news, so we always have food to eat and a place to stay. In the evening, my son tells tales and heals sick people and sends away evil spirits. Sometimes we stay a second day or even a third, but then we go to a new village. I do not know why we are doing this.
I thought my son meant to raise up an army and make a big war, but he has only seven men, and that is not an army.

  I am walking with my son. He holds my hand, and I love him for it. I know his men mutter about me, that it is foolishness to bring an old woman who is slow, but I do not care what they say. Yeshua does not complain that I am slow. That boy Yoni also walks with us, and he asks many hundred questions. Sometimes Yeshua answers one of them.

  We have walked through Galilee now for six weeks. Most weeks, we go back to Capernaum for Shabbat, and that is good, but then the next day we walk another road. I never knew there were so many roads in Galilee, so many villages. Yoni says there are more than a hundred. The new man, Toma the boat maker, says there are two hundreds and fifty and six. I do not know which of them is right.

  The heat of the summer is on us, and it would be a hard thing if we walked far each day. But Galilee is thick with villages. If you walk any way on any road, you will come to a new village by a walk of one hour. The wheat harvest is just in, so if we are hungry on the road, we glean a few stalks and rub them in our hands and eat.

  Yoni talks more than any boy I ever knew. I would have grown tired of his questions long ago, only he is kind to an old woman, and that counts much.

  We come to a crossroads and stop. My son shades his eyes with his hand. He looks straight ahead. He looks to the right. He looks to the left.

  “Rabbi Yeshua, where are we going today?” Yoni asks.

  My son tilts his head to one side like a man who is listening. That means HaShem is speaking to him.

  “If we go straight, that is the way to Bethlehem of Galilee.” Yoni makes a big grin. “When I was small, I thought it was the same as Bethlehem near Jerusalem. I thought we could go to Bethlehem of Galilee by a walk of two days and save four days’ walking to get to Pesach.”

  Big Yaakov snorts. “One year I told Abba to send him that way. It would have saved us six days’ talking.”

  I do not know why Big Yaakov is so cruel on Yoni.

  “We will go this way.” Yeshua points to the right.