Dark Resurrection

by Frederick Preston

  * * *

  The following evening, it was Joseph who was knocking on Jesus’ door, as the couple had overslept, thoroughly enjoying their comfortable quarters. Waking about an hour after dark to the noise, a groggy Jesus rose, rubbing his eyes and making his way to the door in the darkness. Unbarring and opening the door, his father, holding a shielded candle, was taken back for a moment.

  “I’m sorry sir, I have the wrong room; I was looking for my son.”

  “It is I father,” Jesus announced with a yawn.

  “What happened, you almost look like a Roman!”

  “Please come in and I’ll tell you,” said Jesus, again yawning.

  “Would you light a lamp please, I can’t see that well in the dark.”

  Taking his father’s candle, he lit an oil lamp as the Magdalene was rising from slumber. “Good evening Joseph,” she said with a tired smile, sitting up as he entered the room and closed the door.

  Joseph nodded to her, again asking, “So son, what happened to your hair?”

  “Mary gave me a haircut and trimmed my beard, what do you think?”

  “It’s about time,” said Joseph, “You looked strange with all that hair flying about, it’s no damn wonder you had so much trouble in Jerusalem. If you remember I tried to tell you that you know.”

  “Yes father.”

  “A robber mistook him for a beggar last night,” said Mary.

  “That doesn’t surprise me, he certainly looked like one,” Joseph retorted, looking to Jesus and asking, “I imagine you made him pay for that?”

  “Well, he was trying to rob me.”

  “I don’t blame you, in fact, you’re probably saving a lot of other decent folk from being robbed or even killed by feeding on such people.”

  “I hadn’t looked at it that way,” said Jesus, raising an eyebrow.

  “See, it all depends on your point of view,” Joseph replied, “From what I’ve seen, the pair of you are simply disposing of people who aren’t any good anyway, so as far as I’m concerned, keep up the good work.”

  “Thanks dad,” said Jesus, shocked by his father’s pronouncements.

  “Yeah, as to the reason I came by, your mother and I just had dinner and were wondering if you’d like to join us for wine and perhaps a game of latrunculi, that is after you have had your uh, meals,” Joseph offered, inviting the pair to join them.

  “You have the board?” asked Jesus, a skilled player of the game.

  “Of course, it’s almost a hundred years old, it belonged to my grandfather and I still have all the ivory pieces too.”

  “I’d like that very much; what do you think Mary?”

  “Why not, there isn’t much to do here anyway, except feed on criminals.”

  “We should be by in about an hour dad.”

  “We’ll be expecting you,” said Joseph, returning to his room.

  “Dad’s really warming up to us being vampires,” Jesus observed with a smile.

  “I like your folks, and your father’s a wise man,” said Mary, moving from the bed.

  “That’s true, but in the past I never realized how wise.”

  “You were too busy telling others how to live, so how could you notice? Not that what you said was bad or anything, but you never had time for anyone else’s opinions.”

  “I don’t think my suggestions were that far off, if people followed them the world would be a much better place to live.”

  “I won’t fault you there, you did have some damn good ideas,” said Mary, brushing her hair, “But you forgot most people are egotists who couldn’t care less about their own families, let alone their fellow man.”

  “I wouldn’t have agreed in the past, but I think that’s the truth now. I was wasting my time preaching to them, and many folks didn’t like what I had to say anyway.”

  “People everywhere, especially the rich and powerful, never like hearing the truth about themselves, and you constantly pointed out, rather bluntly I might add, that they were hypocrites. As a consequence, they hated you, and finally killed you for that.”

  “Yes,” said Jesus, “I recall you arguing with me heatedly, stating I was wasting my time and just pissing them off. I didn’t agree with you then, but I now believe you were right.”

  “Don’t worry dear Jesus, we’re all wrong sometimes,” a smiling Mary replied, taking his hand as they left their room.

  They stepped into the night in search of prey. It didn’t take long, for as usual the garbage of humanity appeared, bent on robbery or rape, and were quickly disposed of by undead custodians Jesus and Mary. Shortly thereafter, two corpses coursed their way through the dank sewers of Antioch, and the couple made their way through the cool night to his parent’s room.

  “Come in,” said Joseph, answering the door. They entered, and he added casually, “You both look well – who did you kill off tonight?”

  “A pair of robbers,” Jesus answered, looking to his mother.

  “You look very nice with your new haircut Jesus, and hello Mary,” said his mother. Surprisingly, she didn’t appear shocked or even faint from hearing his candid admissions of murder. At a loss for words, Jesus looked to his father.

  “I explained it all to her today,” said Joseph.

  “What exactly did you explain?”

  “I said you make a point to take only those who cross you, and that I think it’s very commendable.”

  “I do most times, but I must tell you mother, Mary isn’t as selective as I when it comes to that. Fortunately, as her master, I – ”

  “Jesus!” the Magdalene exclaimed, embarrassed at the revelation.

  “So what, shit happens,” said Joseph, his wife looking to the floor and shrugging. “Have a seat son, I’ve set up the board, would you both like wine?”

  “Please,” Jesus replied, and took a seat.

  Filling glasses, Joseph handed his guests strong Syrian wine, guaranteed to make even the most seasoned drinker happy in a short time.

  After several intense games of latrunculi, Joseph gave up. He threw up his hands and exclaimed, “That’s the fourth time you’ve trapped my eagle. I can never beat you at this damned game!”

  “I’m sorry father, I used to play a lot with my friend John, he was an expert and the only disciple who could beat me.”

  “I have a few tricks left, but I have to head to the lavatorium first,” a drunken Joseph replied.

  “They don’t have slop jars in the rooms; I need to go too,” Jesus observed, he also inebriated.

  “You still do that?” asked Joseph, raising eyebrows in surprise as they headed out.

  “Of course, but only liquids, I haven’t done the other since before I died.”

  “Incredible, but I suppose all that blood and wine have to go somewhere,” Joseph replied, walking into the dimly lamp lit lavatorium.

  “Guess what father, we’re using a lavatorium down the street to dump bodies,” said Jesus while answering nature’s call.

  “You are?” Joseph asked, not caring in the least as to where the leftover corpses went for disposal, as long as they were not found.

  “Yes, the sewers carry them away, preventing any possibility of discovery.”

  “Like so many turds.”

  “Mary said the same thing.”

  “You know son, it’s strange to think I may be pissing on someone’s head as he floats by.”

  Jesus burst into laughter, falling to the floor in drunken pleasure.

  Joseph, laughing, walked over and asked, “Can I help you up?”

  “Thanks dad,” said a still laughing Jesus, taking his father’s arm and rising unsteadily to his feet. The drunken pair made their way back to the room, weaving as they went.

  They played latrunculi and drank wine until the wee hours of the morning, with Joseph winning
two games between trips to the lavatorium, the drunken Christ starting to make colossal mistakes in strategy. Mary and his mother quietly conversed, discussing housekeeping and fashions of clothing, at times gently complaining about their men as well. As the sky lightened, Joseph retired to bed with his wife, Mary helping Jesus to their room, where he collapsed unconscious, face down, on the bed. She joined him after barring the door, settling into sleep next to her snoring partner, having enjoyed the delightful evening.