* * *
One evening in early November, Jesus brought another sack of denarii to the cave, weighing nearly fifty pounds. “We’re loaded now aren’t we woman?” he asked, dropping the sack, “My dad always thought I’d be poor, and now I have enough money to buy a thousand slaves.”
“I’ll say, and then some,” Mary replied, looking to the glittering pile of treasure.
Staring at silver menorahs stolen from the rabbi of Nazareth, sitting next to a pile of aurei, Jesus frowned, reminded of the Hebrew faith he had turned his back on immediately following his death and triumphant vampiric resurrection.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jesus answered, not wanting to bother her with his contemptuous opinions regarding religion, “It’s just we’ve been concentrating on acquiring money and jewelry, those menorahs and goblets are out of place.”
“We haven’t been robbing anyone’s homes lately, maybe we’ll get more later,” said Mary, not understanding why he was so annoyed at a pair of menorahs and two goblets.
“That’s not what I mean, we have no use for them. I suppose I’ll have Icarus melt that crap down,” Jesus replied, pointing to the menorahs and goblets. Since they were not money or jewelry, he considered them useless gold and silver scrap, better suited existing as ingots of precious metal.
“That can wait, we have a ton of money, besides, you could give those goblets to your parents as a congratulatory present for the baby.”
“Good idea,” said Jesus, lifted from his dark mood and breaking into a smile, brushing aside the offending menorahs and lifting the goblets from the pile. Presents in hand, they headed for the house, walking into the kitchen as Ruth was clearing the table. “Where’s my father?” he asked.
“In their bedroom talking with your mother,” she replied.
“Thank you.”
Knocking on the door, Joseph let them in, walking to a chair and sitting down next to his wife, lying in bed. His mother was very pregnant, having less than two months to go before her new baby, a healthy Hebrew boy, would come into the world.
“Good evening father, how are you my mother?” asked Jesus, he and Mary entering.
“I’m fine,” his mother answered, Jesus taking a seat beside Joseph.
“She waddles like a duck and looks like she’s about to burst,” his father observed, smiling and laying a hand on his wife’s arm.
“Carry this much weight in front of you and see how you walk,” Mary retorted.
“I don’t mean anything by that woman,” Joseph replied.
“I’ve brought a gift, in honor of the baby,” said Jesus, producing the pair of goblets from behind his back and sitting them on a nightstand.
“They’re beautiful,” replied his mother.
“Expensive too, worth a small fortune I’d say,” said Joseph, lifting one of the heavy goblets, “Where’d you get them?”
“We took them from a rabbi we killed in Nazareth, we robbed his house,” an unthinking Magdalene volunteered, Jesus looking to her darkly.
“Oh well, I suppose he didn’t have any further use for them,” said Joseph, placing the goblet on the table.
“Samuel Bar Saklas, the rabbi who wanted to have you stoned for blasphemy,” said his mother.
“Exactly,” Jesus replied, still frowning.
“Please don’t feel bad, he got what he was asking for. They’re very nice goblets too, thank you very much,” she added, accepting the stolen gifts.
“You’re welcome mother,” said Jesus as Ruth entered the room.
“The kitchen’s cleaned up already?” asked Joseph, looking to lift Jesus from his darkened mood.
“Yes Julius the elder,” Ruth answered.
“Let’s have wine son,” said Joseph, rising from his seat.
“Are you coming my woman?” asked Jesus.
“I want to talk with your mom for a while if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself,” said Jesus, following his father to the kitchen.
Entering the kitchen, his father reached for a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets.
“Sometimes Mary says things she shouldn’t,” Jesus observed, sitting down, Joseph opening the bottle and pouring libations.
“She is a little blunt, but don’t worry, your mother doesn't care about that anymore.”
“Be that as it may, it’s disrespectful, she isn’t used to hearing such things.”
“That’s not exactly true. Your mother’s seen a lot more than you may think, especially before you were born.”
“What do you mean?”
“Killing’s one thing she may not be comfortable with yet, but regarding thievery, when your mother was pregnant with you there was a census taken in Judea by Caesar Augustus. Back taxes were being collected in Bethlehem where your mother and I were born.”
“I know, that’s where I was born too, in a stable near an inn.”
“Right, but what you don’t know is that I robbed a publican’s house to pay off my back taxes, otherwise they would have sold your mother and I into slavery.”
“I always thought you were a successful carpenter.”
“Successful because I stole enough money from the publican to move to Nazareth and buy tools and a house.”
“What happened to the publican?”
“Him? I heard they crucified him for absconding with state funds,” Joseph answered, a guilty look crossing his face.
“Oh,” said Jesus, thinking if his father hadn’t stolen the money, the tax collector probably wouldn’t have been crucified, but also realizing if his father hadn’t stolen the money, he and his parents would be lowly slaves, a paradox Jesus figured had turned out for the better.
“So, what do you think of that revelation?” asked Joseph, finishing his goblet.
“I suppose you did what you had to do, and I’ve never cared for publicans, excepting for my friend Matthew.”
“He was one of your disciples wasn’t he?” asked Joseph, pouring another and refilling Jesus’ goblet.
“Yeah, I wonder what he’s doing now,” Jesus mused, his mind drifting to his ministry in Galilee.
“Didn't you kill him?” Joseph asked, goblet of wine in hand.
“No, I only killed Peter and Judas, I haven’t the foggiest notion of what happened to Matthew.”
“I guess that means there are ten of your people blundering about Judea, telling folks you’re God.”
“I suppose, along with my brother James; I’m sorry father, I truly thought I was God once.”
“Don’t let it bother you, everyone has the right to be crazy sometimes, people have believed stranger things,” said Joseph, an elbow on the table, resting his chin in a palm.
“They have?”
“Of course, don’t think you have the sole claim to looniness, many others in this weird world make you look like a piker.”
“Are you serious?”
“Come on, you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me; you know what I’m talking about. You’ve been over half the world in your quest for the truth, whatever that is. Like for example, people down south who think burning babies to death in furnaces will make the rain come and the crops grow.”
“They do that in Syria,” said Jesus, taking a deep drink of wine.
“Yeah they do, and other crazy folks worship carved blocks of stone or the chirping birds, or toothy crocodiles from Egypt. Some people even pray to stupid dogs and cats, for what reason, who knows.”
“I get what you mean, in Kush and India they worship odd looking cows that have humps on their backs, and some people in Rome say the emperor is a god.”
“I’ve heard that too,” said a sighing Joseph.
“People are strange aren’t they?” Jesus asked after a few moments of silence, pouring another goblet, forget
ting he was once in that category.
“You don’t need me to answer that, after all, they killed you because you told them the truth about themselves.”
“Mary has said the same thing.”
“She’s a smart woman.”
“Yes she is, but lately I’ve been changing my mind on religion. I told her a few months back I was drifting toward atheism, she didn’t seem to care for those remarks.”
“She’ll get over it. Just remember, even as a vampire she’s still a woman, and women seem to need a reason to explain existence, so they turn to a god who controls all things.”
“That’s the truth, in some ways I feel blind faith is a woman’s province, men question everything too much.”
“I’ve thought that too.”
Jesus nodded. “I’ve been wondering since we talked in Nazareth last year, what do you think of religious philosophies, do you think they bring man closer to God, if there is one?”
“I’ve no idea, my answer to that would only be an opinion.”
“I know, but what do you think?”
“Honestly, I doubt it. I’m not a believer anyway and I’ve felt that way since long before you were born.”
“Really?” Jesus asked, refilling their goblets, father and son growing drunk on Gallic wine.
“Yes, I haven’t believed in any religion since I was a teenager,” said Joseph, looking him in the eyes.
“Why?”
“I loved my father Jacob very much, and if you recall me telling you as a child, your grandmother died giving birth to me, after she died he was all I had.”
“I know,” said Jesus, putting his hand on his father’s in an attempt to comfort him.
“And when I found him dead in his bed when I was thirteen, God went out the window,” a frowning Joseph spat, pulling his hand away, recalling finding his father’s body on a fall morning in Bethlehem, finally letting Jesus see more of his true self.
“But you scrupulously followed the admonitions written in the Torah, even having me circumcised, and you went to Temple every Saturday when I was a child,” said Jesus, looking at the table where his father’s hand had been.
“That doesn’t mean anything, it’s tradition, rote bullshit one does to fit in with the herd. When you’re part of a culture, willing or not, you have to abide by its rules to avoid problems with the simpletons who really believe it,” retorted Joseph, shaking his head at his son’s naïveté.
“That makes sense, you don’t believe there’s a God either?” asked Jesus, thunderstruck at his father’s words.
“Not really; I simply realized a long time ago none of us know the answer to the mystery of life and death and what may lie beyond this, if anything. Life’s much too short to determine such incredible things.”
“Indeed.”
“We’re nothing but foolish mortals, with the obvious exceptions of you, your woman and perhaps others like you.”
“Yes,” Jesus replied.
“Further, if there is a God, he, she or it will do as it pleases with us, and there’s nothing we can do about it,” declared Joseph, arms in the air.
“I agree, Protagoras said that too.”
“Who was he?” asked Joseph, downing a gulp of wine.
“A Greek atheist from the past.”
“Really? I think he was right; well, I wish you’d listened to me earlier, it certainly would have saved you a lot of problems,” said Joseph, rising from the table.
“I’ll say,” Jesus replied, thinking of his crucifixion.
“Why do you let such shit bother you?” asked Joseph, walking to a cabinet, grabbing and opening another bottle of wine.
“I don’t know,” said an exasperated Jesus, thoughts of God crossing his mind.
Pouring another libation, Joseph replied, “Simply remember this, none of us really know anything. Accept that and get on with your uh, life.”
“You’re probably right father, but I’ve always wondered – ”
Appearing in the doorway, the Magdalene remarked, “Let’s find someone to eat.”
“Yes, go out and kill someone evil, it is your very nature to do so, and to deny your nature would be foolish,” said Joseph, pointing a finger at Jesus.
“You’re a wise man,” Jesus replied, emptying his glass of wine.
“Yeah right,” answered his father, draining his goblet while Jesus and consort walked from the house.
“What were you and Joseph talking about?” asked Mary, walking along the road leading from the farm.
“Various things,” said Jesus, troubled by his father’s admissions, particularly regarding his atheism.
“You don’t feel like talking about it?”
“Perhaps after we have someone to eat,” Jesus replied, his slight inebriation quickly wearing off.
“Okay.”
“Let’s fly to the west,” said Jesus, the couple transforming, flying to the highway leading to Nicomedia. Alighting at their usual spot fifteen miles west of town, they assumed human form. Raising an eyebrow, the vampiric Christ noted that the garbage of humanity had selected the same spot another pair of thieves had, until they came along one dark evening. Having encountered highwaymen at this very place just over a month earlier, they had relieved them of their lives and twelve aurei. The latest pair had moved into a clever trap that Jesus had set, he having moved several fallen trees next to an overhanging sandstone promontory, creating a convenient place for thieves to hide.
“Hold it there,” one growled in Anatolian, coming from the brush, gleaming gladius in his right hand.
“What do you want with us at this time of night?” asked Jesus in kind, familiar with the language of the thieves of Turkey.
“We want tribute,” the thief answered, his partner appearing at his side.
“I’m Roman and pay tribute to no one.”
“In other words, go screw yourself,” said Mary, she having also picked up the tongue of the indigent population.
“You will pay us to pass.”
“This isn’t a toll road, make us pay you,” Jesus replied, folding arms across his chest.
The thief raised his sword, Mary moving like lightning toward his partner, ripping his throat with her fangs and gulping blood as he died in her arms.
“Top that,” said Jesus, the thief dropping his sword and turning to run. “Not so fast,” he added, grabbing the robber by his tunic and pushing him to the ground.
“Evil vampire, by the holy god Baal I banish you and your murderous Lilith to Gehenna!” shrieked the thief.
“Baal, the brother of El, or Elohim, Yahweh of the Hebrews,” said Jesus, looking to his victim.
“Baal is the one true God, I banish you and the Lilith in his holy name!”
“Holy my ass, Baal’s bullshit like his brother Elohim; crap dreamed up by idiots.”
“He is?”
“Why don’t you see for yourself you stupid bastard,” said Jesus, lifting him, plunging fangs in his throat, sucking his blood until he died and throwing the corpse to the pavement.
“He pissed you off didn’t he?” asked Mary, dropping her victim beside his lifeless partner.
“He was a damn fool,” Jesus spat, staring at the corpse.
“That’s obvious,” said the Magdalene, looking to the body.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You feel like a fool too, because you once bought into that stuff.”
“Yeah,” said Jesus, “Let’s loot these bastards, it’s too bad we can't sell their heads to Callicles.”
“I don’t think he’d buy them would he?”
“Sure he would, if we could sell them to him for 50 denarii or so, he gets 250 each for the heads of thieves from the procurator in Antioch.”
“It’s not worth it, too many question
s would follow, we should just loot and dump them.”
“Of course, get serious woman, it’d be hard to explain to that drunk how we took them wouldn’t it?”
“I’m sorry,” said Mary, understanding his macabre jest.
Finding only a few denarii on the pirates, Jesus hurled them by their legs from the road, the bodies landing in crumpled heaps in a dense thicket. Not uttering a word, he started back to town.
“You’re not yourself tonight are you?” asked the Magdalene, putting a hand on his arm.
“I’m all right,” said Jesus, pulling his arm from her.
“It’s what your father said at the house isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve known you a long time, I can tell.”
“You're right,” Jesus replied, annoyed that she could so easily read his emotions.
“So?”
“My father told me he’s an atheist.”
“Big deal, so are you.”
“Not quite, but close,” said Jesus, “It just bothers me that my father never told me he was an atheist. If he had, perhaps I wouldn’t have begun my ministry, and would’ve saved myself a crucifixion in the process.”
“You wouldn’t have listened to him, you thought you were God.”
“Yeah,” a wistful Jesus answered.
“And you wouldn’t be a vampire today.”
“That is true.”
“I like being a vampire, we’ll live forever,” said Mary, smiling at the thought.
“I don’t mind, but we can never have children.”
“That’s the way it goes, maybe you’ll bring others to our realm like you did at the graveyard with me – they can be your children,” said Mary, having gotten past her regrets of not having offspring.
“It’s not the same thing,” Jesus replied, thinking of his brother in his mother’s womb.
“Perhaps not, but if we’re careful, we can bring others to our realm, if the situation warrants it. Further, we can know the world of the future, existing on this earth hundreds, if not thousands of years from now! I think that’s exciting, who knows what lies in the far off future!”
“Man will be the same through all times in history,” Jesus declared, “A miserable creature whose foremost predilection is blatant hypocrisy of the first order, most of them, male or female, nothing but cunning, deceitful, disgusting liars and rogues.”
“We’d have nothing to eat if they weren’t.”
“You're right,” said Jesus, “My woman, what would I do without you?”
“If you kept this attitude up you’d probably kill yourself, if you could.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely,” the Magdalene answered, changing the subject, “You know, that clown back there thought I was the Lilith.”
“I heard that too, who knows, maybe you are,” said Jesus, pausing and sitting on a boulder near the roadside, looking to the night sky.
“The Lilith?”
“Well, maybe not the Lilith, but I’ll tell you one thing, we sure scared the piss out of him didn’t we?” asked Jesus with a slight smile.
“Yeah,” said Mary, recalling the robber’s terrified face, Jesus towering over him.
Talking for a few hours sitting by the roadside, the Magdalene finally lifting his crestfallen spirits, they transformed and returned to the house, Jesus dumping the paltry amount of silver he took from the thieves on his nightstand before going to sleep at sunrise.
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