by Jack Geurts
At least he can console himself with the fact that Joey got out of there alive. I mean, he is a slave now – there’s no getting around that – but he’s still alive.
So if Reuben really wants to see the silver lining, if he really squints while looking at the way the situation unfolded, he can say that – technically – things worked out the way he wanted.
But Reuben didn’t get to be a hero.
Jude did – and he did it publicly. He did it in a way that would earn him respect, in a way that made his brothers see him as tough but fair. Willing to get his hands dirty, but merciful at the same time.
A true leader.
He also got to pay Reuben – more than his brothers, I might add – so now he looks like the benevolent one, and maybe they hate Reuben a little more because of it.
“Goddamn it,” Reuben says, and takes another sip. He has to hand it to his brother – he’s just better at marketing.
*
After slaughtering a goat and smearing Joey’s coat with its blood, they head back home, agreeing to not tell Izzy about their deal with the Ishmaelites. Better to let him think that Joey’s dead so they can keep the money. Who’s it really hurting, apart from Izzy’s bottom line?
When they arrive, Jude makes a big deal of presenting the coat to Izzy so God takes notice.
But because it’s all an act – and because they’re not actors – they end up delivering their lines in such an awkward manner that it’s sure to rouse suspicion from the big guy.
“This we have found,” Jude says, overly-formal as he hands his dad the coat. “See now whether it is your son’s robe or not?”
Izzy frowns, like, “What the fuck?”
But since Jude has already started them down this path, Izzy has to continue with it.
In the great improv tradition of ‘yes, and...’, he pretends to recognise the coat and breaks down crying. Real tears. Jude’s impressed.
“It is my son’s robe!” he says, bellowing theatrically. “A wild animal has devoured him. Joseph is no doubt torn to pieces!”
The brothers think he might be laying it on a little thick, but then Izzy kicks it up a notch. He drops to his knees, rips open his own tunic to expose his bare chest and screams at the sky.
No words – just a hideous, ear-splitting shriek.
Veins bulging, face turning red.
Dude really goes for it.
It’s a full-blown, unhinged, Nicholas Cage-in-The-Wicker-Man-level meltdown.
Finally, he goes quiet, hanging his head in pretend sadness. They all kind of shuffle over to pretend to comfort him, but he slaps their hands away viciously.
“No!” he screams, rising to his feet and glaring at them with wild eyes. “I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning!”
Then he runs back into the house like a child throwing a temper tantrum, winning the biblical equivalent of the Oscar for Most Over-The-Top Performance.
The brothers just look at each other like, “What the fuck was that?”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Geurts is the author of The New Old Testament, a re-imagining of the Bible as told by the drunk guy at the party. He lives on coffee and podcasts, and likes to believe that if there is a God, he’s got a sense of humour.
Visit him at jackgeurts.com
Chat with him on Messenger
Follow him on Wattpad or Bookbub
ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
THE NEW OLD TESTAMENT:
Genesis
*
PANTHEON SERIES:
To Kill a King
The Fire and the Forge
Buried in the Sky
*
OTHER BOOKS:
Jasper Flint and the Dinosaur Saddle
Mercy Killing
Vendetta
© 2018 Jack Geurts. All rights reserved.
