Dark Resurrection

by Frederick Preston

  * * *

  Jesus awoke almost an hour before dusk and roused the Magdalene, his mother, and Joseph.

  “God does my back hurt!” Joseph cried in agony, “That’s what I get for sleeping on the ground all damn day!”

  “Don’t worry, with the money you have soon you’ll be able to buy a down stuffed bed to sleep in,” said Jesus, trying to soothe him, knowing it was much too late for him to back out.

  “That isn’t helping my back now is it?” Joseph retorted, rising to his feet, “I need food Mary, what do we have in the bag?”

  “Bread, dates, honey, cheese, and wine.”

  “Give me a stiff belt of wine will you?”

  “You should eat something too, on an empty stomach you could get drunk,” she admonished, handing him a bottle.

  “That’s the idea, maybe it will make my back stop hurting!”

  “Don’t get too drunk dad, we have traveling to do tonight. I want to find horses and an enclosed wagon in Gennesar,” said Jesus.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not that foolish son, I need it for the pain.”

  “Velly – I mean very well, father.”

  Joseph looked to Jesus and took a long drink from the bottle.

  “Could I have a slug of that, I could use some,” said Jesus, his father sitting the bottle on the cave floor.

  “Sure, you can still drink wine?” asked a surprised Joseph, handing him the bottle.

  “I found that out at Pilate’s house, when I uh, visited him,” Jesus answered, looking to his mother.

  “So I suppose you’re still a drunk.”

  “No more than you are dad,” said Jesus, chugalugging from the bottle as his father smiled, an odd camaraderie growing between them.

  Joseph and wife ate a meager breakfast as the sun slipped below the horizon. Jesus pushed away the tree and looked to the darkening sky. It was going to be a clear night with a full moon, perfect for traveling. “Let’s get a move on, Gennesar’s five miles away and we need to get there quickly,” Jesus urged from the mouth of the cave.

  “What’s the hurry?” asked the Magdalene, “We can walk five lousy miles in an hour.”

  “I want to get there early and find a merchant so we can buy horses and a wagon,” said Jesus.

  “Why don’t you eat up the owners and steal them, you seem to steal everything else,” Joseph suggested, looking him in the eyes.

  “This way will be easier father, we have plenty of money and will find more than enough food in the form of thieves or highwaymen during the trip to Anatolia.”

  “That’s nice,” said Joseph, frowning at his son’s bizarre utterances.

  The Magdalene grabbed his treasure sack while Joseph hid their other belongings further back in the cave. Satisfied as to security, the group left and headed north.

  Walking along the road, Joseph asked, “Why do we need an enclosed wagon, wouldn’t four horses be sufficient?”

  “We need one so we can travel by day, Mary and I can sleep inside while you drive the horses,” answered Jesus. “During mornings and early evenings, we can let the animals feed and rest; I’ll drive them at night while you and mother sleep in back. I also want to return to the cave and pick up your tools and the loot. We definitely need a wagon for that.”

  “Good idea,” Joseph agreed, “You seem to have developed a talent when it comes to planning.”

  “He’s a genius,” said Mary, “You should see the way he entrances people.”

  “I’d rather not see such a thing,” Joseph replied, having an instinctive aversion to the vampiric lifestyle, thinking of Jesus or Mary entrancing their prey like cobras, and of his outwardly gentle son feeding on the blood of his human victims.

  They arrived in Gennesar, Jesus quickly scouting the area for his needed items. Advising the others to wait at a nearby tavern, he stopped by a blacksmith’s shop and inquired of the owner if he knew anyone who had horses or an enclosed wagon for sale.

  “I have a sturdy wagon I can sell you and my friend Barnabas has horses,” said the man, a muscular Hebrew-Samaritan named Jonas.

  “How much do you want for your wagon?”

  “Thirty denarii should do, I haven’t used it for a year or two but it’s in good shape,” said Jonas in an opening gambit, “Come take a look.” Opening a wide door to his shop, he showed Jesus his carriage. It was complete with harness, fully enclosed and in excellent condition, with front steerable wheels, all ironclad, and a four point, iron shackle, leather strap box suspension for a relatively smooth ride.

  “Really sir, this wagon is worth much more than 30 denarii,” said Jesus while inspecting it, “Are you sure that’s all you want?” Unaware he had made a social gaff in his own country, he looked to the man. A seasoned traveler, Jesus was much more used to the idea of simply paying the asking price, as he had customarily done in Europe, India and Cathay.

  “I have no further use for it so 30 denarii will cover it,” Jonas replied, a little put off by the way his customer bargained, “Besides, wait till old Barnabas charges you 100 denarii for each of his horses.”

  “You have a deal,” said Jesus, handing him money, having decided on the spot that he wanted the carriage. Feeling pressed for time, he asked, “Can you show me to this Barnabas fellow’s house?”

  “Sure, his place is up the street, he’s probably having dinner with his family, but the sound of silver coins will pull him from his table,” Jonas answered, surprised how fast the transaction had taken place. They headed to Barnabas’ house, situated on several acres of land, surrounded by a fenced pasture and well kept stables. “Hey Barney, I have a customer for you,” Jonas called, rapping loudly on the door.

  An older gentleman with a long beard appeared in the doorway, asking Jesus, “What can I do for you stranger?”

  “I need a pair of strong horses for pulling a wagon,” said Jesus, as straightforward as the horse trader.

  “You came to the right place, do you want mares, geldings or stallions?”

  “I’d prefer mares or geldings,” said Jesus, aware either were much more docile than stallions.

  “Two hundred denarii for a pair of geldings, want to have a look?”

  “Sure.”

  Walking to the stable, he surveyed the lot. All were fine horses, Jesus selecting a pair of common gray Arabian geldings, blankets over their backs.

  “They’re a good pair of horses, strong as any oxen,” said an exaggerating Barnabas while Jesus pulled out a moneybag and paid him. Signing over and handing him the titles, the trader was amazed how fast the stranger had purchased the animals. After all, in Judea even the most hurried bargaining took at least ten minutes to settle on the price.

  “Thank you, I’m certain they’re fine animals,” Jesus replied, leading the horses from the stable.

  “I thank you sir,” said a surprised Barnabas, looking to the money in his hand.

  “I’ll help you hitch them up, it’s a bit tricky if you haven’t done it before,” Jonas offered as Jesus led the geldings to the blacksmith shop. Hitching the horses proved no problem, the capable Jonas completing the task for Jesus while he watched.

  “So friend, where are you headed with this rig?” Jonas asked, tightening the harnesses as Jesus folded the blankets and placed them on the seat of the carriage.

  “North into Anatolia,” said Jesus, embellishing a bit, “I have Roman relatives there, and am claiming an inheritance from an uncle in the northeastern sector.”

  “I figured you for a Roman of sorts,” Jonas replied, slipping into Latin from Aramaic as he pulled the cinches tight, “I suppose living down here gave you that beard and long hair.”

  “I’m half Samaritan,” Jesus lied, answering in Latin.

  “So am I, that explains it,” said Jonas, stepping away from the rig.

  “I thank you sir, you’re a
kind gentleman,” Jesus replied, mounting the wagon, “Let me give you twenty more denarii for your trouble.”

  “There’s no need of that,” said Jonas, declining, surprised at how much of a spendthrift the traveler was.

  “I insist,” Jesus replied, dropping 20 silver coins in his hand. “Thank you and goodbye,” he added, leaning down and giving him a firm Roman handshake. Taking the reins, he pulled out and headed to the tavern, leaving blacksmith Jonas staring at his handful of coins in disbelief. Familiar with horses, Jesus drove the wagon to the tavern, stepped down and walked into the establishment. It was almost closing time, he observing his parents enjoying a meal.

  The Magdalene was occupied protecting his parents from danger, as she had grown rather fond of the two over the past months. Holding Joseph’s satchel of treasure in her lap, she kept a close watch on other patrons for threatening moves.

  In his usual detached manner, Jesus walked over, sat down and said, “We have transportation for the trip north, an enclosed wagon and two gelding horses.”

  “How much did it cost you?” asked Joseph, finishing a bowl of venison and cabbage soup.

  “250 denarii,” said Jesus, “Practically a steal.”

  “You can say that again,” Joseph replied, “The horses alone would have cost maybe 400 in southern Galilee, and 500 or so in Jerusalem.”

  “Are you ready to go?” asked Jesus, impatient to resume the journey.

  “In a moment,” his mother admonished as if he were a fidgety child, “We’ll leave as soon as we finish dinner.”

  “Yes mother, but we have a lot of work to do tonight and I’m a little hungry myself.”

  “So am I,” the Magdalene added.

  “Imagine that,” said Joseph, sitting his spoon down and reaching for a cup of wine.

  Shortly thereafter the group was heading south at a leisurely pace to the cave, Jesus at the reins beside his consort. His parents were sitting in the wagon, Joseph having slid aside a movable wooden panel to converse with him and the Magdalene.

  “Don’t tell me you’re really heading back for the loot,” said Joseph, thinking that with his son’s talent for thievery it was pointless.

  “That’s right,” Jesus replied, “We’ll be traveling a great distance into Anatolia, so there’s no point leaving it here.”

  “Why bother, just steal more, you seem rather good at it,” Joseph suggested, seemingly intent on insulting Jesus.

  “I will, but why should I go through the trouble of robbing people if I don’t take it with me, besides, your tools and other belongings are there too,” Jesus replied, oblivious of his father’s sarcasm.

  “You’re right,” said Joseph, surprised his son could think that far ahead.

  They arrived quickly, Jesus and father entering the pitch-black cave by torchlight. Joseph loaded his tools and other belongings in the wagon, with Jesus returning from the depths of the cavern, effortlessly carrying his loot over a shoulder in a sack weighing approximately 200 pounds.

  Heaving the heavy sack in the rear of the wagon, his father observed, “You vampires certainly have the rest of us beat when it comes to strength.”

  “Yes,” said Jesus, “It comes in handy when one has work to do.”

  “Really,” Joseph replied, closing and latching the rear door, wondering if vampirism was a type of infection that made hard workers out of lazy philosophers.

  They passed Gennesar, heading north. It was getting near midnight, Mary Magdalene breaking the silence by remarking, “We’ll have to find someone to eat soon.”

  “They’ll turn up, they always do,” said Jesus, “The road to Lebanon’s desolate and a perfect hunting ground for thieves and highwaymen.”

  “Perfect for them or for us?”

  “For us of course,” a smiling Jesus answered, remembering when a traveler he had been the one to take precautions, having carried weapons of many types, and having had to use them on more than one occasion. Their wait for a nutritious hemoglobin dinner did not take long, for exactly as Jesus had predicted, a band of robbers were lurking only a few hundred yards up the road. They spotted them in the distance by the heat of their bodies, long before the group would have any chance of surprise, not that it would have mattered.

  “Lock the carriage doors and wait inside father,” said Jesus, turning his head to the wagon for a moment, trying to prepare his parents for the inevitable as they approached a trio of highwaymen lurking in the chaparral.

  “Why?” his father asked.

  “Robbers are ahead and it’s time for our supper.”

  “Ah yes,” said Joseph, raising an eyebrow. Noting that Jesus and consort would be dining out again, he closed and bolted the doors.

  The robbers moved into the road, blocking their path, Jesus bringing the wagon to a gentle stop.

  “That’s a nice wagon, want to sell it?” came a question from one of the men, a rotund creature of nearly 300 pounds.

  “No,” Jesus answered.

  “How about the woman, is she for sale?” another asked with an evil smile, eyeing Mary.

  “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask her,” said Jesus, waving in his consort’s direction.

  “Jesus!” the Magdalene exclaimed, “I don’t do that any more!”

  “Perhaps not, but you did say you like to have fun with them didn’t you?”

  “I get it.”

  They stepped from the wagon and headed toward the robbers. With a broad smile, Jesus asked, “I suppose you fellows are merchants of sorts?”

  “This guy’s even stupider than he looks,” one remarked to the fat man, the leader of the band.

  “We’re not merchants, just thieves,” said the third, anticipating a victim’s usual fear.

  “So you steal things,” Jesus replied, walking up with Mary at his side, “So do we.”

  The highwaymen moved back a few steps, intimidated by the fearlessness of the undead Son of Man. “What do you steal?” asked one, looking up to the much taller Jesus.

  “Lives,” said Mary, baring fangs while Jesus froze them to their spots.

  “Now who’s stupid?” asked Jesus of the statuesque thieves.

  Mary grabbed one; sinking fangs deep, she sucked him dry as the others looked on in horror. Pulling from the throat, she released and the corpse fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. “One down, two to go,” she said, wiping blood dripping from her mouth.

  “Save one for me will you woman?”

  “Take the fat one – he’s probably filled with blood.”

  “Sure,” said Jesus, grabbing the entranced fat man and draining his life from him while Mary gorged on the blood of the other.

  “Joseph, why did the wagon stop?” his wife asked.

  “Our son and his friend have found someone to eat along the way,” said Joseph, becoming used to the fact that Jesus was a vampire.

  “Oh,” she replied, not wanting to press further.

  A few minutes later a knock came on the door, Jesus announcing, “You can come out, folks, it’s safe.”

  The rear door opened, his mother remarking to Jesus as he helped her down, “It was getting stuffy in there with the doors and windows closed.” She looked about, saw the bodies and fainted in Joseph’s arms.

  “This is going to take a little getting used to,” said Joseph, laying his wife in the back of the wagon on a blanket.

  “You’re doing rather well with it, father.”

  “Nothing bothers me, but your mother’s another story,” said Joseph, eyeing the corpses.

  “I’ve noticed she’s always been that way, kind of flighty,” Jesus observed, feeling a twinge of embarrassment at the implied criticism of his mother.

  “You’re telling me,” said Joseph, “And I’ve had to live with her for thirty-four years.”

  “You must
truly love her after all this time,” the Magdalene replied, kneeling by her victim, rummaging through his clothes with thorough ruthlessness, searching for valuables.

  “Of course, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t crazy at times,” Joseph answered, fondly thinking of his wife.

  “We’d best clean up our mess,” said Jesus, walking to the bodies. Finding a hoard of silver on the fat one, he added, “Will you bring a sack father, this man is loaded with hundreds of denarii!”

  “Sure,” Joseph replied as his wife awakened. “Stay here Mary, I don’t think you’re ready for all this yet,” he ordered, grabbing an empty satchel.

  His wife did as told while Joseph brought the satchel to Jesus.

  “He was a fat one wasn’t he?” Joseph observed, watching Jesus rip a gold pendant from the corpse’s neck.

  “Yeah, I almost broke one of my fangs on the necklace this bastard was wearing,” an annoyed Jesus spat.

  “They’ll grow back if you break one won’t they?”

  “Of course, but why go through the bother,” said Jesus as he filled the satchel, “Garlic may not work on us, but I think a metal torque around the neck just might!”

  “Let’s hope they don’t come into general fashion,” Mary snickered, eyeing the pendant. Noticing this, Jesus tossed the gleaming bauble to his partner.

  “Just bite them someplace else,” suggested Joseph, Jesus and the Magdalene looking to him.

  “You’d make a good vampire dad,” said Jesus, handing him the treasure-laden satchel.

  “No I wouldn’t, but thanks just the same,” Joseph replied, heading to the wagon and climbing in.

  “Let’s ditch these guys,” said Jesus.

  “There’s a cliff over there, we can throw them over it.”

  “Good idea,” said Jesus, dragging the fat one by his feet and heaving the other cadaver over a shoulder, the Magdalene lifting the third corpse with one arm. Heading to the cliff, they disposed of their victims, tossing them into a deep ravine. “That takes care of that,” he added as the bodies bounced down the cliff, landing in broken heaps at the bottom.

  They walked to the wagon and Jesus climbed aboard, taking the reins while Mary made sure his parents were safely inside. Taking her place beside him, they resumed the trip north.