Necessary Heartbreak

by Michael J. Sullivan

  “Oh, Lord, no,” he moaned.

  Michael stumbled to his feet, tripping twice on the rocky ground. He felt drawn to Judas, but as he neared, his body seemed to slow in reverence. “Why did you do it?” he pleaded, now standing close enough to touch Judas’ bare foot. “Why? We could have stopped this.”

  Michael stepped back from the body, trying to determine how to get Judas down. He felt repulsed by the body, yet somehow obligated to help him. The torn cloth he was hanging from had been thrown over the branch, its ends tied to form the noose. Michael would only be able to get the body down if he either cut the rope or untied the knot from around Judas’ neck. The former seemed implausible, the latter, inexcusable. He looked on the ground around him for something sharp. About ten feet away, his eyes noticed the open bag of coins, gleaming like knives in the moonlight.

  He heard a commotion from the top of the hill and saw the outline of a group of seven or eight men in the distance. Michael staggered toward the coins, as if to hide the evidence of his friend’s betrayal. He grabbed at the bag, but the pouch had split along its seam, allowing coins to scatter on the ground below.

  “Is that him?” he heard a man shout.

  “I don’t know,” cried another. “It’s too dark to see.”

  A stone whizzed by Michael’s head, striking a branch behind him, cracking the night’s silence. He wrapped the bag in his hands, holding it tightly as he ran up a short, steep hill. At the top, he hid behind the craggy trunk of a towering tree. He watched as the men gathered under the dangling corpse.

  “Why did you do it?” howled one man, jabbing awkwardly at Judas’ leg like a boxer before a punching bag. “You didn’t have to do it! Why? Why? God have pity on you . . . on all of us!” Another from the group moved closer, pinning the man’s arms behind him.

  Michael watched, eyes brimming with tears. Unconsciously, he leaned his head against the tree for support. As he did this, he caught their attention.

  “Look! Somebody’s up there.” The man pointed toward Michael.

  “Leave him be,” said another.

  Michael started backing up, carefully keeping his frame behind the tree, tightening his grip on the pouch of money.

  “I’m going to get him,” the man said in reply. He started to sprint up the hill.

  Michael turned on one foot, running off blindly into the night. He moved like a wild beast, thrashing through whatever lay in his path. He looped back, down past the far wall of the garden, and once again onto the serpentine streets within the city walls. He kept one eye out for danger, but the other for someone else: the bald man.

  I’ll just give the money back, he thought again and again.

  Leah knelt on the mat, stunned by Michael’s sudden departure. The glow from the waning lamps suddenly felt too intense, too intrusive. She wondered if she appeared as foolish as she felt. The bowls and cups that had held such promise throughout the meal now were empty; sitting there alone, she felt solidarity with them.

  “Oh, Michael,” she sighed softly.

  Pulling herself smoothly to her feet, she looked out through the open window. Even with the moonlight, she saw little, which was exactly what she expected. The best view of the road was from her roof.

  Resigned, Leah crept quietly to the ladder, glancing at the sleeping Elizabeth as she passed. She knew it was finally time to look, yet she struggled to find footing on the bottom rung. It had been so much easier with Michael here; she had felt almost drawn the other night. Tonight, every muscle fought her, and even her normally obedient hands needed extra guidance.

  Instead of throwing her leg up onto the roof at the top of the ladder, Leah slid to her knees. She prayed silently for strength before rising to her feet. Her attention focused not on the balustrade to her right, or to the far side where she had shown Michael the view of the mountains, but to a spot immediately behind her. Then, as if in a trance, she glided there, stopping mere inches from the roof’s edge.

  Her body grew still but her mind whirled, flooding her with images that she had long ago discarded. Over the past two years, she had refused to see the scene in its entirety. Glancing down now, she saw everything: the road, the spear, the soldier standing over his motionless body. Closing her eyes, she could hear the blood spill into his throat, so that his call for her was not muffled or breathy, but instead gurgled out of him.

  But now with Yochanan everywhere around her, beneath her, and within her, her mind focused on the one thing that she had most feared. By letting it all come back to her, the chasm was open and she could recognize everything for what it was. No longer could she forget, no longer could she imagine. If everything has a beginning, middle, and end, what happens when the middle plays again?

  How can I let Michael be here?

  Elizabeth awoke with a mild headache and found her attempts to go back to sleep futile. She was thirsty and got to her feet to find a cup of water. “Leah?” she called, spying the glow from the lamps still lit on the dining mat beyond her.

  With no light emanating from the kitchen below, and the courtyard dark and silent, Elizabeth climbed up the ladder to the roof. At first she thought it was deserted, but when she turned her head at the top, she saw Leah standing with her back toward her. “Leah?” she called softly.

  Leah shivered once, her arms pulled tightly to her sides. She spun back, alarmed. “Yes?” she whispered breathlessly.

  “What are you doing?”

  Leah shook her head gently, her expression locked into a grimace. “Nothing.” She stepped toward Elizabeth. “Is your father back?”

  Having pulled herself partially up onto the roof, Elizabeth stopped abruptly. “What? Where’d he go?” She scowled at Leah.

  Leah hesitated. “Let me explain.” She walked to Elizabeth, offering a hand to help her up to the roof. They made their way to the balustrade, where Leah sat immediately; Elizabeth lingered a moment before sitting down next to her.

  “Okay, now tell me what happened.”

  Leah looked out into the night sky. “He left right after dinner, soon after he had moved you to your bedroll. We started talking and then he ran.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  Leah rubbed at her temples. “I don’t remember exactly. It seems very foolish now. I think I told him that he made me believe . . . although now I am no longer certain what in.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “And he didn’t say where he was going?”

  Leah shook her head.

  “Oh, great,” Elizabeth said worriedly. “We’ve got to find him. It’s pitch-black out there. He could be lost.”

  “I know,” Leah sighed. “It is not safe out there for him. But it is also not safe for us, especially you.”

  “I don’t care about my safety,” replied Elizabeth, standing. “You should probably stay anyway—he is my father. I bet he went into the city. He seems confused—he told me he wanted to find my mom here somehow. He misses Mom so much.”

  Leah was skeptical. “Why would she be here? How is Michael going to find her?”

  “It would take too long to explain. But he believes someone he thought he saw could help him. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if he did or not. But he believes he did.” Elizabeth started toward the ladder.

  Leah was unconvinced, but threw her hands up weakly in protest. “Elizabeth?”

  “I’m going,” Elizabeth said as she stepped down onto the first rung, “even if it means I try this alone.”

  Leah nervously fingered her robe, pressing it down around her knees. She sighed. “I will come with you, though. I do care about both of you.”

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, a smile spreading across her face. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

  Michael first saw the undulating heat waves, wafting high in the sky, before he could make out the crowded fire pit below. As he drew near the edge of the sunken courtyard, he felt an enormous sense of relief: apparently, the man pursuing him had given up. His eyes focused on those lounging
around the roaring flames: soldiers and villagers alike, seeking warmth in the night.

  A cluster of soldiers were sipping some kind of hot brew while others were huddled together, whispering. Michael was aware that the darkness fully shielded him, yet he was worried about the inherent dangers of the crowd. These soldiers seemed almost tranquil, but he knew that could change in a second. He was strategizing how to get back to Leah’s when he felt the weight in his hand, realizing he still had Judas’ purse.

  Oh, no, I’ve got the money! I’ve got to give this back. His mind whirled.

  The soldiers stood abruptly, forming a tight pack as if an unheard signal had been sounded. They retreated back into the streets from the opposite side of the courtyard, leaving just a few villagers around the fire. Michael became determined to get rid of the silver, hoping one of them knew where he could find the bald man. He strolled quickly into the courtyard, stopping next to a man in a muddied robe, his hood covering the top of his head and the sides of his face.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Michael said quietly. “I’m trying to find a man I met earlier. He was bald and wearing a purple sash.”

  “Why are you asking me?” the man asked roughly.

  “Well,” Michael stammered, “I have some money from one of the Rabbi’s followers.”

  “You what ?”

  “Shh,” said Michael, sitting quickly next to the man, their shoulders now touching.

  Two townspeople swiftly moved to them. “What’s the problem here?” asked one.

  “Nothing,” the hooded man replied.

  One of the villagers looked at Michael and then at the man. He pushed the hood off the man’s head, exposing his face and neck. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, the man hadn’t slept in days.

  “Weren’t you the man seen with Jesus?” the villager asked suspiciously.

  “No.” The man shook his head in earnest.

  “Are you sure you aren’t one of his followers? I thought I saw you with him.”

  The man rose to his feet, his frame large and imposing. “I am not that person. I have never seen that man.”

  Michael grew anxious. Fearing a confrontation, he quickly got to his feet and took off into the night. Only several seconds later, Michael recognized the screeching cock’s crowing as if it were an alarm. He let the weight fall from his grasp, the split pouch of coins cascading onto the stone ground below, ricocheting in every direction.

  The pebbles on the road felt like tacks through his worn sandals, but he didn’t stop. He looked for the easiest path back to Leah’s and slowed only when he was sure no one was near.

  “I’m lost again,” he gasped through heaving breaths.

  In the silence, Michael heard someone calling his name. He stood motionless. The voice grew clearer as he saw two familiar figures up ahead.

  “Michael? Michael, is that you?” Leah called softly.

  He walked quickly toward them and whispered loudly, “Yes, I’m here!”

  “Are you all right, Dad? Leah said you ran out.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” He wrapped Elizabeth in a big hug. “I got lost. Where are we?”

  Leah pointed to his right. “My home is over there. We’re not too far away.” She noticed blood on his clothes. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m okay.” Michael stopped, turning toward her.

  “Is everything okay, Dad?” Elizabeth asked.

  He paused. “No, actually nothing is ‘okay.’ Elizabeth, should we be doing something to make this all stop?”

  Elizabeth stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw Judas die, and Jesus being led away. Peter denied him. And I did nothing. Nothing!”

  “But, Dad,” Elizabeth said, shaking him by the shoulders, “what could you have done?”

  They walked back to Leah’s house in silence. As they entered through the front gate, Michael finally felt a sense of peace.

  13

  BURDENS

  Michael awoke with a throbbing headache. But as he rubbed his eyes, he felt relieved that the air was cool and dark. When he stood up, he noticed that he had an extra blanket wrapped around him. He saw two flickering lamps in the distance still burning from the night before.

  It’s time to go. We don’t belong here. There’s nothing more we can do.

  His aching legs carried him across the rooftop as he measured each step so he wouldn’t fall. He staggered near the head of the ladder but made his way down safely. He saw no one on the second floor so he proceeded down to the first. Leah was in the kitchen by the fire while Elizabeth was in the next stall, petting Cassie.

  Leah looked up at Michael. “How are you? How do you feel?”

  He gingerly rubbed his head. “I’ve been better, but we really have to get going.”

  “Of course. Breakfast soon will be ready,” Leah said.

  “No, we’ve got to leave now. Elizabeth, get your things.”

  “Okay, Dad,” she said as she passed Leah in the kitchen on her way to the ladder.

  Leah gave him a puzzled look. “Why now?”

  “It’s Good Friday. This is the day they will crucify Jesus. There’ll probably be no one on the streets. They’ll all be in the courtyard. With everything going on today, it’s the best time.”

  “Let me get my veil.” Leah looked at Michael sadly. “Drink some water before you go,” she said as she proceeded upstairs.

  Elizabeth appeared with a fresh robe tucked under her arm. Michael met her at the foot of the ladder.

  “Listen, I want to talk about last night.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to.”

  “No, I want to,” he said, following her. “I got lost when I was out. I saw Judas. I spoke to him. I asked him why he did it, and he said he thought Jesus would rise up against the Romans.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. He told me just before he . . .” Michael paused. “Well, before he killed himself. I tried to stop him. I tried to convince him to give the money back and stop it all. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He must have hit me hard. When I woke up . . . oh, it was awful. His body was hanging from a tree.”

  Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, Dad!”

  “Today’s the crucifixion.”

  “How can you be so sure ?”

  “I saw everything in that garden last night when they handed Jesus over to the Romans.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, it was unreal. But think about it: we’ve been here a week, and each day when we wake up, another event is happening. It was Palm Sunday five days ago. Last night was the Last Supper. I literally saw him being handed over to the soldiers. I heard him tell the apostles to put down their swords! Today has to be Good Friday. We’ve got to go now while we can.”

  Elizabeth hesitated, weighing what he was saying, but then turned to him. “But we can help him! We can stop them from killing Jesus!”

  Michael wrapped his arms around her. “I tried to help him last night. I had a chance, but I froze when I saw the soldiers taking him from the garden. I tried to convince Judas to come back with me, but I couldn’t save him either. I’m not going to try again today, knowing that you may never get back, knowing that it will do no good. Last night the streets were empty with just a few soldiers around. Today there will be hundreds more. And there will be angry crowds. I can’t lose you.”

  Elizabeth pulled away. “But we could try. We have to try.”

  Michael exhaled slowly. His voice trembled. “But should we? If we change this, Elizabeth, if we stop it or even just slow it down, what does it mean for everybody else? They always told us growing up that his crucifixion was part of this great plan for the world, and heaven. ‘God sent his only son’ for this to happen, right?”

  Elizabeth stared at him accusingly. “You always told me to help other people, and yet, once again, you’re backing away. Can’t we try?” She rattled Cassie’s gate. “Daddy, please.”

  Michael stretched his arms out re
signedly and Elizabeth hugged him.

  “Okay, we’ll go,” she agreed quietly. “What about the soldier who’s looking for me? He’s going to be after us, right?”

  Michael nodded. “I know. He’s frightening, but I believe that today all the soldiers will be there with Jesus. There’s a good chance that the soldier won’t be near the tunnel.”

  Leah came down the ladder carrying a white veil. “Put this on,” she said, motioning to Elizabeth. Her face grew worried as she watched Elizabeth wrap the veil around herself.

  When they passed through the front gate, Michael stopped to close it behind them. He looked at the quiet, vacant house.

  “Thank you,” he said to Leah, touching her arm.

  Leah moved expertly through the maze of streets, her brisk pace never slowing. Although it was eerily quiet when they first left Leah’s, a distant roar soon pierced the morning solitude.

  Michael felt worn down, racked with guilt over his actions the night before. I’m sorry, Jesus, I should have helped last night. I couldn’t and now I can’t help today. I’m sorry.

  “Dad! Look!”

  Michael realized that they were just outside the courtyard where they had met Leah. From the road, he could see Jesus standing on the big marble steps in front of hundreds of people.

  “Oh, no,” he said under his breath.

  Turning back to the road, Michael saw in the distance the alley leading to the tunnel. It’s right there! We can leave right now. It’s safe. But when he looked over and saw Jesus in front of the angry mob, he felt drawn. He knew he couldn’t leave. Not like this.

  “Elizabeth. Come on.”

  They walked slowly through the massive gates into the courtyard. They were quickly surrounded as more people swarmed in. The crowd seemed angry, even ravenous.

  “Daddy, I’m scared,” Elizabeth whispered under her breath.

  Leah grabbed her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

  Elizabeth tightened her grip on Leah’s hand and let herself be led farther into the courtyard.