29 A.D.
12:32 P.M.
Magdala, on the Sea of Galilee, Israel
Five months of life in ancient Israel proved to be the most challenging, rigorous, and most spectacular of Tom’s and David’s lives. They had survived the summer, traveling through the countryside, villages and cities of ancient Israel. Tom was beginning to speak Aramaic and David could pass for one of the locals. David’s speech, dress and knowledge of ancient customs were impeccable. But what annoyed Tom more than anything else was David’s sixth sense about what was going to happen next, what stories were going to be told and what they meant.
David traveled with Tom and the other eleven disciples, but as he had agreed with Jesus, did not participate in all discussions and did not attend every event. At the same time, Tom had the pleasure of a front row seat, and like a cocky child at a magic show, he searched and scrutinized for the slightest sign of forgery, misdirection and illusion. Over the months, he had witnessed the healing of lepers and cripples, heard the teachings of Jesus and had become swift friends with the bulky Matthew, the tall and slender Peter, the short and timid Judas and the ever-rugged Jesus. The six men, including David, were near inseparable.
Tom had come to respect Matthew’s knowledge of mathematics. For a man in ancient Israel, Tom was convinced Matthew could grasp Quantum Science if given the chance...and he was funny as hell. He found Peter’s firm and honest grasp of reality to be refreshing. And Judas, quiet Judas. Tom admired the man’s drive. Judas desired so powerfully to do something important with his life that Tom became convinced he would. Then there was Jesus.
Tom shared a love/hate relationship with Jesus. When on worldly subjects, the two saw eye to eye, but when it came to matters of religion, Tom openly and blatantly questioned Jesus’s teaching and miracles. Tom was dedicated in his quest to debunk Jesus, but was continuously frustrated. Tom had never met a man who could talk circles around him, but Jesus could manage it with ease. The group of them didn’t share the same beliefs, backgrounds and educations, but had bonded the way travelers in a dangerous land tend to do, and they trusted each other with their lives.
And it was a dangerous land. Even now, the threat of being crushed by the overeager crowd before them became unmistakable. The fourteen of them were backed against the gently lapping waves of the Sea of Galilee by a pushing and shoving mob, like crazed fans at a World Cup soccer match. Matthew and Peter did their best to fend the people off, but their best efforts wouldn’t last much longer as those desperate to be healed of every affliction, from allergies to skin cancer, vied for position at the front of the crowd.
Even Jesus seemed uncomfortable with the situation. “I think it is time we departed,” Jesus said.
A woman in the crowd caught wind of Jesus’s comment and screamed, “You can’t leave yet! I’m still sick!”
The crowd surged forward and Matthew spread his beefy arms like a wall. “Stay behind me!” Matthew yelled to Jesus.
Tom couldn’t believe what he was seeing. These people were crazy. Tom was sure Jesus “healed” people by paying them to feign illness, and upon Jesus’s cue, whether it be a hand gesture, touch or word, be miraculously healed. Now, every fool with a bruise for thirty square miles had shown up to receive a dose of false hope. Tom decided that someone had to come up with a plan and being the person with the highest IQ, Tom volunteered himself. He scanned the area behind them and saw a small boat tied up in the water, only a few feet from shore. It looked seaworthy and large enough to accommodate the fourteen. “Let’s take the boat,” Tom said to Jesus.
“It’s not ours,” David objected.
Jesus patted David on the shoulder with a smile and said, “Then we’ll return it.”
The disciples acted without having to be told. They ran into the water and loaded themselves into the boat, while Matthew remained on the beach, continuing to hold the crowd at bay. Jesus calmly waded into the water and was pulled aboard by Peter. The crowd pushed forward; Matthew was losing ground.
David stood outside the boat and said, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. It’s not our boat. We can’t just take it.”
“David, I’m positive the owner of this vessel would rather us escape the mob than see us die before our time, don’t you?” Jesus replied, as he extended his hand to David.
David took Jesus’s hand and was pulled aboard.
“We’re all in!” Peter yelled to Matthew, who was still on shore.
People began to pull on Matthew’s clothes, begging him not to let Jesus leave, pleading with him to change Jesus’s mind. Mathew pushed the crowd back with a mighty heave and then splashed into the water, running as fast as he could through the waves, toward the boat, which was already floating out to sea.
Matthew kicked and splashed, pushing through the water, toward the boat like an oversized St. Bernard.
Tom thought the sight was hysterical, but dared not laugh, as Matthew, who clearly did not know how to swim, was dog paddling for his life.
Matthew made it to the boat and shimmied to the side. Tom, David and Peter took hold of Matthew and pulled with all their strength. Matthew didn’t budge. He weighed three hundred pounds and was currently water logged.
Jesus moved in and grabbed Matthew’s garments. Together, Tom, David, Peter and Jesus pulled Matthew into the boat, while the rest of the disciples sat on the opposite side of the boat to keep it from capsizing.
Once inside the boat, Matthew flopped to the floor, panting for air. “If I knew...I was going to be swimming...I would have brought...extra under garments!” shouted Matthew between breaths, followed by a hearty laugh and then an out of breath fat man’s cough.
The tension of the boat’s crew was relived by Matthew’s antics. A light chuckle escaped from the group and expanded into full-blown laughter. David, however, was not laughing. His thoughts lay elsewhere. Today’s events did not transpire as he had imagined they would. Was taking this boat stealing or was Jesus right? Could they safely assume the boat’s owner would have no hard feelings when the boat was returned? And David had witnessed Tom influencing Jesus! It was Tom’s idea to take the boat! David decided to watch Tom’s actions more closely and make sure he wasn’t trying to find a flaw in Jesus by creating it himself. As for taking the boat, David decided that Jesus was right. But David couldn’t shake the awful feeling in his stomach since the events on the beach. When Jesus approved the taking of the boat, all of David’s beliefs were instantly called into question. David still couldn’t believe the thought had crossed his mind. He tried to erase the question from his mind, but was unable. It repeated over and over, tormenting him and tempting him to doubt. Did Jesus sin?
* * * * *
After the excitement on the beach, the quiet of the sea was a welcome experience to all on the boat. Many were sleeping. Matthew was rowing, putting his large muscles to good use, while David and Tom enjoyed the view from the bow of the boat. For the first time since their trip through time began, Tom was in Heaven. He had spent summers as a child on his uncle’s boat. The sweet air filled his lungs and brought back memories that wouldn’t happen for two thousand years. A light breeze caressed his growing, black hair while his thoughts drifted.
Tom had seen what Jesus could do—he didn’t buy it, but had to admit Jesus was impressive. Jesus was the ultimate motivational speaker and could sway crowds with just a few words. Even Tom felt a tug at his heart now and then. The passion of the man was undeniable, and had Tom been a less educated man, without knowledge of the future, being swept into the teachings of Jesus would have been easy.
Tom searched the clouds overhead, white wisps of water vapor, like hair...like Megan’s hair. Soft and lovely. He closed his eyes and could see her making breakfast. Cream of Wheat, of all things, was her favorite. She always cooked it too long so it clumped into balls, which she would douse with brown sugar and coat with two-percent milk. Tom couldn’t stand Cream of Wheat but would sell his soul for a bowl of Megan’s right now.
“What are you thinking about?” David asked.
“Nothing,” Tom replied.
“Nothing nothing, or nothing you want to talk about?”
“Just looking at the clouds.”
David had been watching Tom for a few minutes and saw his eyebrows lower and his forehead wrinkle. He knew Tom was thinking about Megan. It was the inescapable force that drove him forward.
“They look like they’re getting darker. Might have a storm soon,” David said, as he gazed out over the sea.
Tom took a breath and let it out slowly. This trip had put David and him at odds over so many issues, but David had always been there for him and always would be. Tom didn’t see the use in keeping David in the dark. “I miss her,” he said.
“You know...” started David, “And let me finish before you tell me I’m a fool...”
Tom crossed his arms, leaned back and raised his eyebrows as if to say, “I’ll try, but don’t push it.”
“Megan was a Christian... She believed in eternal life after death. She believed in that man,” David said as he motioned to Jesus, sleeping on the other end of the boat.
“She believed he was God and that he died for the sins of humanity. Imagine, just for a moment, if she was right and you were wrong. It would be a shame if I saw her again...and you didn’t. The risk of believing all this Jesus nonsense might be worth taking. We might not be able to change the past, but the future is still ours to create.”
Tom sat staring at the sky and appeared to be thinking hard on David’s comments. Then he said, “I think you’re right...there is a storm coming.”
David looked up at the sky and saw dark, heavy clouds moving toward them, smudging out the bright sun. His thoughts raced through what he knew of the Bible. He tightly clutched the side of the boat and said, “This is going to be interesting.”
“What? What’s going to happen? You know, don’t you?” asked Tom.
“Don’t worry, we’ll live.”
“Easy for you to say.”
The clouds began to swirl and churn with energy, ready to burst. A drop of rain slapped David’s cheek and he smiled.
“Why are you smiling?” asked Tom.
Whack! A sizable drop landed on Tom’s forehead and he wiped it off. David slunk down and wedged himself into the boat floor. He looked up at Tom and smiled. “You might want to hold on to something. Things are going to get bumpy.”
“David, what—”
Krakoom! A blue streak of lightning ripped across the sky and exploded with fire as it pierced a tree on the distant shore. The thunderclap triggered a deluge of rain from the dark sky. The waves, revealed by bright flashes of lightning, rose and fell ever higher, ever wider, threatening to capsize the lot of them into the undulating sea.
Panic quickly took hold of the group. Judas dove to the floor of the boat and clung to the wooden bench. Chaos gripped the minds of those attempting to control the situation.
“We’re all going to drown!” someone yelled.
A wave crashed over the boat and knocked most to their knees. What followed was a mass of yelling, screaming and questioning obscured by the rain and thunder. Tom and David couldn’t make out what was being said, but their thoughts were clear: They were all going to die! They’d be capsized and the waves would take their strength and water would fill their lungs and they would sink into the cold abyss never to be seen or heard from again!
Tom couldn’t stand it any longer. It seemed he would have to take action to save their lives again. He hoped this wouldn’t become a habit. He climbed to his feet and headed toward the center of the boat. Just then, a second wave careened into the boat. Tom was flung from his feet and his head collided solidly with the side of the vessel.
In the confusion, only David saw Tom fall. “Tom!” David frantically crawled to Tom’s side.
David inspected Tom’s head, which was doused with seawater and already covered with blood, pouring from a gash. Tom was unconscious and probably better for it. This would hurt with a passion when he woke up.
Peter kneeled down next to David and yelled, “Is he alive?”
“Yes,” David shouted back.
“David, it is well known that you are wise in the ways of the world. Tell us, what should we do?” Peter asked David, trying to squelch the terrified look on his face.
“Where’s Jesus?” David asked, knowing where his line of questioning would lead.
Peter looked to the back of the boat where Jesus was laying. “He still sleeps!”
“Well,” David said, “Wake him up!”
Peter hurried across the boat, doing his best not to be knocked overboard by the tossing sea. He fell to his knees next to Jesus. Peter took hold of Jesus’s arm and shook. “Master! Master! We’re all going to drown!” Peter shouted.
Jesus blinked as he woke from his slumber. He calmly took in the storm, rain and lightning. He briefly glanced at the distraught men, all looking to him for salvation. “Help me up,” Jesus said to Peter.
Peter pulled Jesus to his feet and then quickly clung to the floor of the boat. Jesus stood alone at the center of the boat. The wind and rain whipped through his hair. David noticed that the power of the storm seemed to invigorate him. Jesus stretched out his hands into the rain and smiled.
David knew what was about to happen and cursed Tom for being unconscious. If he saw this, there would be no more excuses.
Jesus closed his eyes and spoke kindly, as if to a friend, and said, “Stop.”
Calm. The clouds pulled back and disappeared like they had been rewound. The wind extinguished to a gentle breeze. The waves were ironed flat. All in an instant. It was as though someone switched on the lights and let the sun come out. No one made a sound as the boat rocked in the placid water.
Tom came to with a jolt, “Wha—what happened?” Tom asked and he held his head in pain.
“Jesus calmed the storm,” David explained.
Tom looked up at Jesus, still standing alone in the middle of the boat. “What? C’mon David.”
Jesus turned his head toward Tom, clearly disappointed.
Tom started, “He can’t—”
“Where is your faith?” Jesus asked Tom, and then he spoke to the rest of the group, “All of you...”
Jesus stepped over the fearful men and resumed his spot at the back of the boat. He stood, facing the shoreline, silent.
The disciples, minus Tom, had all seen what Jesus did. They began speaking to each other with excited whispers, “Who is he?” someone asked.
“I don’t know!” another replied.
“He calmed the storm! How did he do that?”
“Unbelievable.”
“He commands the wind and water, and they obey him!”
Tom’s brow furrowed and he looked at David. “Are they serious?” he asked, as he winced with pain.
David nodded and said, “Lets take care of that wound. And no whining; this might hurt.”
As David began to clean Tom’s wound with seawater, Tom stared across the boat at Judas, who had not moved from his spot, clutching the bench, hands shaking and jaw trembling. Tom had recognized the name of Judas when they were first introduced so many months ago, but couldn’t remember who he was. He would have to remember to ask David. Tom feared for Judas on several occasions, as the man seemed to wilt at the slightest hint of danger. Maybe Judas just needed a friend? Someone to look out for him? To inspire him? Tom decided he’d get to know Judas better; maybe they could help each other.
—TEN—
Pitfall
29 A.D.
5:32 P.M.
Gergesa, on the Sea of Galilee, Israel
A mile from the extravagant city of Gergesa was a dark valley, hewn into the Earth by years of wind and water. The walls of the two hundred foot chasm were lined with tombs dug into the cliff faces. The air was cool, wet and reeked of stale decay. Some called it The Valley of the Dead, some simply called it The Valley, but for the past week, no one called
it anything at all. No one dared to even think about the valley, as though Samuel, the man now shackled to a cliff face, might hunt them down and devour their children.
Samuel, once a fisherman and friend to many, had been overtaken by an evil force. Some speculated that the tempter himself possessed Samuel. Those who knew the man tried to give him time. Perhaps the evil would pass? But after a month, the evil had not passed; in fact, it had grown stronger, deepening its hold on Samuel’s body. He was found sleeping in the entrails of ten sheep he had slaughtered, apparently with his bare hands. The Roman Guard was called to action. It took ten heavily armed and expertly trained guards to subdue the man, and two almost lost their lives.
Samuel had been chained to the cliff face in the Valley of the Dead for five days, awaiting his sentence, which all knew would be death. Clothed only in dirty rags, Samuel spoke in strange languages, frothed at the mouth and at times mimicked the beasts of the forest. He was truly mad. But for the past five hours, he just sat there, cross-legged with his back to the four Roman soldiers standing guard. The soldiers, fully armored with iron helmets, hard leather chest plates, shoulder pads and boots, all wielded shields, swords and spears. They maintained a healthy distance and a watchful eye at all times.
Greagor, the captain of the group, stroked his favorite sword against a whetstone, sharpening its blade to a razor’s edge. With its double-edged iron blade, its U-shaped, brass hilt and ornate sheath, it was a spectacular weapon—one that Greagor had used to kill several enemies of Rome. With every swipe of the blade, Greagor kept his eyes glued on Samuel. His lip raised in a sneer, revealing clenched teeth. Not only was this man a Jew, a conquered people with phony freedoms, but he was evil, and Greagor wanted him dead. “We ought to slit his throat now and be done with it,” Greagor said.
The Didymus Contingency Page 10
