by D A Walmsley
Andrew comes over to the window and looks out.
“Zeb doesn’t seem worried, so it should be alright. Look on the bright side, it didn’t sink this time.” He then goes and sits back down to finish off checking his own paperwork before putting it on Zebedee’s desk.
“I knew something would happen, what did I say, if they don’t concentrate?” says Simon Peter.
Even with all his years of experience he had come pretty close to the harbour wall himself on many a foggy morning, though it must be said, never actually hitting it. So after he’d finished unloading and sorting out his paperwork he had come upstairs to watch out for James and John. If the brothers weren’t one hundred percent… He had stood watching and waiting, knowing something would happen. Call it intuition, or the fact that their boat’s powerful: they’re late so they’ll be going too fast, they’ll be excited at having their names read out on Capernaum 106 and they both have terrible concentration. Less like intuition, more like an inevitability.
“So, come on, you must have found out something by now, who is he?”
“It’s only been a day,” Andrew smiles.
Simon Peter knows his brother too well, he knows that as soon as Andrew got home he would have been on the internet, finding out as much as he could about this man Johnny B talked about.
“OK, but S P, don’t get too excited. After we left, something happened. It was on the news in Jerusalem last night. I rang one of Johnny B’s followers to confirm it.
“And what happened?” Simon Peter doesn’t do the news so has no idea what his brother is on about.
“I don’t know if it’s true or not, but what I heard is Johnny B refused to baptise this guy because, he John was unworthy. This guy insisted and as he was coming up out of the water a voice spoke and some say there were doves, others a cloud of some sort. That’s all I know, I’m not sure I believe it?”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? This is unbelievable.”
“It’s only rumours.”
Another loud crash outside rattles the windows and Simon Peter’s attention turns back to the harbour.
“James?” asks Andrew.
“Of course, he’s taken over the crane.” Simon Peter puts his hand up to the glass to bang it, but sees Zeb is making James give the crane back to its operator.
Simon Peter knew that one day Zeb’s sons would join the family business, but he was a little relieved when they went to college after high school, although he suspected the teachers had something to do with both lads leaving their respective courses early and being encouraged to take up the family business. While Zebedee rarely goes out in the boats any more, preferring to run the business from the comfort of the office, Simon Peter fishes. That’s what he’s always done; that’s all he knows. The days and nights can be long and it’s back breaking stuff but he wouldn’t swap it for anything. There have been times when the weather has been bad, storms raging, the sea at its most violent. Zebedee will remind him he doesn’t have to do it, there’s a safer, warmer place he could work from. As a business partner he has employees to do the leg work, so why should he risk himself? Zebedee just doesn’t get it, because that’s when Simon Peter is most alive, when it’s him against the elements, that’s when he’s happiest, that’s who he is. He could never sit in an office all day pouring over tax returns. He’s a fisherman and fishermen catch fish.
He watches as John is again just standing there, hands in pockets. What’s he doing? He can’t resist opening the window. “John, get back to work.” Simon Peter believes their parents are too soft, they let them do what they want, so he likes to keep them busy. Nothing wrong with a bit of verbals now and again to let them know who’s boss.
Zebedee comes into the office and heads over to the window. Pointing down at a couple of crates he says. “See those down there, they’re for Zak’s restaurant in Jerusalem.”
“Only two crates, I was hoping for more,” says Andrew.
“They are just testing us, soon it will be more, you’ll see,” Zebedee tells him.
“We have the best quality in the country, ‘course they’ll order more,” says Simon Peter before a yawn slips out. He’s tired, it’s been a long night.
Simon Peter likes his routine which means when he gets home after a night’s work he has breakfast with his family, before Ruth takes six year old Naomi to school. Four year old Jacob goes to a nursery where Ruth helps out. This gives Simon Peter time to unwind and then sleep. He usually goes to bed mid-morning and gets up around six. This gives him time with the kids before they go to bed and some time alone with Ruth before he goes to work for ten; then the cycle begins again. Ruth hates him working nights and they’ve had many an argument over it. Simon Peter suspects Ruth has expressed her concerns to Salomé, Zebedee’s wife and mother of James and John. That’s why Zebedee keeps suggesting he needn’t work nights. If there’s one thing he hates it’s being told what to do, no matter how well-meaning the intention.
Two sets of work boots thud up the wooden steps that lead to the office and James and John burst in.
“We’ve finished,” James announces.
“I’m starving, can we go now Dad?” John asks.
Zebedee nods.
“Hey, if you’ve damaged the boat, you’ll pay for it!” says Simon Peter.
“It’ll be fine, they got lucky this time.” Zebedee says to him.
The lads smile at Simon Peter and John asks. “You gonna come S P? Andy? We’re going to the café for breakfast.”
“Yeah, why not?” says Andrew standing up. “You can tell me about the radio.”
“Not me,” Simon Peter shakes his head, trying to conceal another yawn.
“S P looks too tired, he’s getting old,” James says to John.
“Hey I’m not…” he yawns. It’s big and slow. “I should be getting home, back to the kids.”
“Pity, I was going to treat us all,” says Andrew.
“Oh well, In that case, I’m in,” says Simon Peter
James and John laugh and leave with the same bounding enthusiasm that carries them through life, which at times does annoy Simon Peter, but which he also can’t help admiring.
All four make their way down the stairs, passing the big six foot high metal bin brimming over with old packing boxes and cardboard. On it someone has written Simon Peter’s Lunch box in black paint.
It’s a few minutes walk to the Lakeside Café on the other side of the harbour, a popular place for the fishermen. As they approach, the owner, a Greek named Nicholas, is putting tables and chairs out.
“Morning Nick,” they all say before going inside. James and John head straight to a table near the back and pore over the menu. Simon Peter and Andrew go over to a mate sitting by himself drinking coffee.
Philip has known the lads a long time as their parents were friends. He works just round the corner from the harbour in an office, which he hates.
“Alright Phil, what are you doing here this early?”
“The boss wants us in at half seven this morning, thought I’d grab a coffee first. You guys just finished?”
“Yeah.”
James turns round looking for Andrew and notices Philip.
“Hey, it’s Philip” James says poking John who still hasn’t made his mind up what to order. John waves and carries on studying the menu.
“We got a mention on the radio this morning.” James says to Philip, loud enough for the other diners to hear.
Philip laughs, “Nice one, you want to ask if celebrities get discounts.”
John looks up. “Discounts, really?”
James and John look towards the food counter where a middle-aged woman is serving. She overhears, “no chance,” she says with a smile.
“It’s OK, Andrew’s paying anyway!” says James.
“So how did your trip go?” Philip asks Andrew and Simon Peter.
“You mean you don’t know. We got baptised, by none other than John the Baptist,” says Simon Peter.
; “No…really.”
“Yeah, by the man himself, full on, in the Jordan,” says Andrew.
“Shit..”
“I forgot to get my books signed though,” says Simon Peter.
“But that’s all you’ve talked about for the last week.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to actually ask him when he was in the middle of the Jordan was I?”
“That’s exactly what we thought you’d do, ” says James.
“So how was it?” asks Philip.
“Unbelievable, there were thousands and it took ages, but well worth it. You’ve read the books right, heard him on telly, everyone wanted to see him. But hearing him speak close up, that’s something else,” says Andrew.
Philip sighs, “If I could get time off work I’d love to go.”
Andrew leans over, “He said something else, that there will be another coming soon.” He pauses, thinking for a few seconds before adding in a whisper. “He will be The One.”
Philip raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. Andrew carries on “He was there, I mean I never saw him, but John said HE was there.”
Chapter 9
“S P wake up.”
Bang! Bang!
“Simon…Peter.”
“Ruth, can you get that,” shouts Simon Peter from the bedroom.
He sits up and looks at the clock. 10.15, he’s only been in bed an hour.
“S P get yourself up.”
He recognises his brother’s voice. Oh great what have James and John done now. Couldn’t this wait until later? He gets out of bed, his body still aching from the long night’s work.
“It’s your brother,” shouts Ruth, before telling him off for waking her mother who isn’t feeling so well.
“I’m getting up, give me a second.”
He descends the stairs with heavy legs, still half asleep.
“This better be important.”
“It is, come on get dressed. It’s him, I’ve met the one Johnny B talked about,” Andrew can’t hide his excitement.
Still half asleep Simon Peter asks, “him, who?”
“I’ve met the Christ, the Messiah. HIM! I mean Jesus, he’s called Jesus. ”
“Good for you.”
He turns his aching body and starts to go back to bed. Half way up the stairs he stops, I’m so tired I must have misheard. Did he just say…? He can’t mean? He turns and looks at his brother, who has the widest grin he has ever seen.
“If you want to meet him, he’s at the café,” says Andrew.
“I’ll be two seconds.”
He runs upstairs and quickly pulls on some jeans and a T-shirt. His aches and pains are disappearing as excitement and adrenalin kick in. Could this be true, could he be meeting the one who is going to save Israel?
“You planning to go barefoot,?” asks Andrew as Simon Peter dashes downstairs.
He takes the nearest pair to the door - his work boots.
He and Ruth live a stones throw away from the harbour, only a few hundred yards from the café. They can get there by going along the shore. They run, his work boots sinking into the sand and pebbles.
When they get to the cafe there are dozens of people and Andrew leads the way to a group sitting at a table.
“Ah, the fishermen.”
“This is… my brother, Simon Peter,” says Andrew, stopping to take a breath before adding, “S P this is Jesus, the man I was telling you about.”
“Well, it’s good to meet you,” says Jesus and they shake hands. Simon Peter is surprised. Jesus’ hand is as calloused as his own, his grip is firm. This is a good sign.
“Mind if I call you Peter, it means a rock.”
“Does it? that’s great.” He looks around at all the others watching and he feels ten feet tall.
They sit down. Nick is hovering nearby.
Andrew beckons him, “coffees for both of us, please Nick.”
“Right Andrew. We also have some of your favourite pie left, S P.”
“Oh that’ll be great Nick.”
“Okay S P, or should I say Peter? Much prefer that, too many Simons, very common.”
Peter could have sat and listened to this guy Jesus all day. The man knows his scriptures alright, better than any Rabbi he has ever heard. Even Nick the café owner was happy, but that may be because Jesus drew a large crowd that needed to be fed and watered. They’d been listening for hours and Peter had started to drift off a couple of times. It was really tough having to leave but at least he’d outlasted Andrew, who’d slipped away an hour ago. Now he too must say his goodbyes; after all, he has to be up in five hours.
As he walks home, he smiles to himself. Today was an amazing day, plus in a couple of days he gets a day off to go to a wedding. A whole day without James and John, bliss.
* * *
Ruth drops Peter off at the bus stop and kisses him goodbye.
“Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“Then come with us, your mother will be fine.”
“Simon Peter, she is sick, you know I can’t leave her. Anyway who is there to sit the kids? And don’t say James and John, remember what happened the last time they babysat?”
He’d been looking forward to the wedding for ages and so had Ruth.
“It won’t be the same without you,” he says as she hands him the card and present he’d left on the back seat of the truck.
There are a few others waiting and no one that he recognises. He nods to them as he fiddles with his shirt and tie. Oh he hates ties, why did Ruth make him wear one. Once the truck is out of sight he takes it off and shoves it in his trouser pocket.
Andrew is next to arrive, he must have been doing a bit of last-minute shopping as he has a toaster under one arm and a roll of wrapping paper and tape in the other.
“A toaster, really?” asks Peter.
“Everyone likes toast, anyway what did you get?”
“Oh, you know?” He hasn’t a clue, Ruth sorted it all out.
“Andy,” yells a lad who has just got off a bus opposite and is quickly running across the road. He is carrying a poorly wrapped present and dodging the traffic. “Alright big man,” he says to Peter.
“Nathaniel,” says Peter.
“Where’s the missus?” Asks Nathaniel.
“At home, the mother-in-law’s sick.”
“And the other two?”
“Not invited.”
“What, everybody in Capernaum has been invited.”
“I know, they aren’t happy either, especially as they’ve heard its a free bar.”
“Free bar! Sweet.”
“So, how’s it feel going back to your home town?” asks Andrew.
“A bit weird, haven’t been to Cana in years, well, no need now mum and dad live in Chorazin. Be good to see the old place though.”
“Wonder if Philip thinks the same? I don’t know, would you attend your ex’s wedding?”
“Hey, you’ll never guess who I met yesterday? This Jesus guy, that’s who,” says Nathaniel.
“You too, I heard Philip went to the synagogue and saw him.”
“Yeah, it was after that. I met Phil for a pint in the town centre and as we were walking home we see this Jesus guy coming towards us. When Jesus sees me he says. Here is a real Israelite, there’s nothing false about you. I’m like how do you know me man? and he says, I saw you when you were in The Old Fig Tree.”
“Since when do you go in there?”
“There’s a quiet corner I like, no one bothers me. The thing is, I’ve never seen this Jesus guy in there before. So I just blurt out so you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel.”
“What!”
“I know, it just came out, but get this; he said we will see heaven open up and God’s angels going up and coming down on the Son of Man. I swear, that’s what he said.” Nathaniel raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders.
“I hear you’ve been given a new name,” he says.
“Yeah, Jesus calls me Pete
r, not Simon Peter, ‘cos Peter means rock.”
“Now James and John have started calling him Rocky,” laughs Andrew.
Several more people turn up, most of whom are friends of the family and when the minibus arrives and everybody gets on the driver is keen to get under way.
“Are we all here?” asks the driver.
“Just waiting for one more, five minutes.” Andrew says as he sits down and starts wrapping his present.
The driver taps his fingers on the steering wheel. Nathaniel looks at his watch, “well Philip was told if he wasn’t on time they wouldn’t wait.”
Andrew is just about to tell the driver he can go when he sees Philip running up to the bus.
“He’s here,” Andrew says to the driver.
Philip jumps on the step, pats the driver, and lets out a big sigh. He sits down next to Nathaniel and looking around acknowledges Andrew and Peter. The driver closes the door and sets off.
“Didn’t think you were going to come,” Nathaniel says, surprised.
“No, neither did I, but you know…”
There is silence on the bus only for a few seconds before Peter has to know, “So, why did you and Naomi split up?” he asks in a loud voice.
Philip gives him an angry stare and gets Andrew to swap seats so he can explain to Peter that it was years ago, when her family moved to Jerusalem, but they had stayed in touch and he’s met her fiancé at her last birthday party and he’s alright.
The small town of Cana, is only fifteen miles north west of Capernaum and it takes little time to get there. At the hotel the driver has trouble getting up the drive, so many guests are arriving at the same time. Cars circle the car park looking for a space. Another minibus is unloading passengers at the door, whilst behind them another turns into the drive.
“Do you think this is why we weren’t invited to the ceremony?” an old lady asks her husband.
“At least they get plenty of presents,” the husband replies, holding their gift-wrapped parcel.
As they are getting off the bus Peter asks “are we going to tip the driver?” He is given some glares from the other passengers - that clearly didn’t go down well.
“You can’t complain, I’ve heard the drinks will be free all night,” he says defiantly.
