I was the fifth child, sandwiched between five irritating boys. There are three older than me – Greg, Gerald and Doobie and two younger – Sean and Michael. My sisters Callie and Claire were the anchors, Callie the oldest and Claire the baby.
Greg was the perpetual thorn in my side and to Claire I was glue. She was always close at hand when it came to me. She’d graduated with honors with two master degrees and from medical school but refused to practice. She had an enormous heart bursting out of her small frame, a calming spirit an eternal hope that welled up in her soul and spilled over onto everyone she knew. My baby sister. My guardian angel. And probably a big part of the reason I’m going feeling crazy.
When we got to Claire’s house, my brothers and cousins were gathered in the family room watching a game on TV. All men. No wives or girlfriends in sight.
I spoke to everyone and went through the house into the kitchen to see if Claire needed any help, and to find out where all the women were.
“Hey, Claire.”
“Hi, Justin.” She was standing at the kitchen table cutting up potatoes.
“I’m starving, whatever you have in the oven smells delicious,” I said. Rustling around all the food in the refrigerator, I found an orange, grabbed a paper towel, and sat down at the table.
“Need any help?” I asked.
“No, I’m fine, just see if you can pull your brothers, Greg and Gerald away from that television and get them to go out back and get the grill started. I’ve got the steaks all ready to go.”
“Okay, I’ll get them. So where’s everybody?” I asked.
“In the family room. You just walked through there, didn’t you? I know you heard them, they’re making enough noise.”
“I mean all the women. No wives. No dates. Not like your brothers and cousins.
“I told them not to bring any of those women.”
“Those women?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because I know you don’t like them.”
“Whaaat?”
“I know you don’t like those women, so I told them not to bring them. Tonight is for you. I want you to have a good time. I called each one of them and I told them to leave their wives at home.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
I really didn’t like any of those women, but I couldn’t believe Claire would be so rude.
“Claire, you must be out your mind. You cannot tell people to come over and to leave their wives at home.”
“Yes I can. This is my house, my food, my sister.”
“What did they say when you told them?” I popped a section of the orange in my mouth.
“Do you see any wives?”
We both started laughing. I almost choked on my orange.
“I did invite Ty over though, I know you like her.”
Yes, I did like Ty. She had been my best friend since childhood. I grew up surrounded by my five brothers, so she had been the much needed company of a girl my own age. Ty, short for Tyler, and I were “Mutt and Jeff” as my mother put it. She was tall and shapely. Never knowing if I was Mutt or Jeff, I was the complete opposite. I was short and, since fifth grade, somewhat overweight.
“Justin,” Claire said, “I’m so happy you’re not leaving. Isn’t that something how just one little phone call can change everything?” She smiled at me. “I don’t know what I would do without you here with me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Didn’t want to hear that sappy stuff. “I’m going to get your brothers out from in front of the television and send them out back to get those steaks going.”
Claire had this huge house that no one lived in but her. It had six bedrooms, and a backyard the size of a small park. She said she needed a big house because, “You never know when a family member might need a place to stay.” She should have said her brothers might need a place to stay, because they were always camping out at her house.
“Greg, Gerald, your mother said to go out back and get the grill going so we can start the steaks,” I stood in front of the TV. Greg, a six foot mass of muscles pushed me out of the way.
“Auntie Leslie is here?” My cousin stood up in anticipation of greeting my mother.
“No, she’s talking about Claire – our ‘mother hen,’” Greg said.
“Yeah,” Gerald added. “‘Because if she had been talking about our mother, she would have said ‘Mommy.’”
“You know, I meant to say something about that.” My cousin looked at me questioningly. “Why do you, Callie and Claire still call Auntie Leslie, ‘Mommy’? Don’t you know you’re too old to call her that?”
Greg, Gerald and Callie’s husband busted out laughing. “They may be in their thirties and forties, but, man, believe me, they each still have the mind of a child.”
“Shut it, Greg.” Not a very clever or adult retort. But what could I say? We did still call her ‘Mommy.’
“Will you guys please go and get started so we can eat before eleven o’clock tonight.”
After a lot of cajoling (they never listen to me) they finally got up and headed out back. All of them went, which meant that they still wouldn’t get anything done. They talk about me being childish, put them together in one place and it’s like you got a room full of ten-year olds.
I followed them out to make sure Greg and Gerald paid attention to the matter at hand, and to ensure that everyone else didn't interfere with them getting it done. Because if they kept fooling around and didn't get that grill going as quickly as I thought they should, I definitely would be putting a call in to our real “Mommy.”
CHAPTER SIX
“So, Justin, have you finally figured out why you gotta pack up and move? Going through menopause again?” Greg started with the chiding right off the bat.
Before I could answer, Claire spoke up as she came out of the kitchen with the steaks. “Shows what you know Gregory, you can only go through menopause once and Justin hasn’t gone through it yet, and,” she said, “Justin is not leaving. She got this really important call, and she’s staying here. Well, actually, she’s going to Jerusalem for a little while. But she’s not moving.”
“Thank you, Claire,” I said. She seemed quite happy to be the bearer of the news. I expect that when I get old Claire will probably be the one I will have to go and live with. I think that I’ll be cursed with her presence until my dying day.
Greg waved his hand as if to shoo her away.
“Claire, why don’t you let Justin answer her own questions?” He looked over at my husband, “Mase, man, what are you letting my sister do to you? One day she’s got you packing up and moving to Timbuktu. The next day she’s telling you to unpack, you’re not going anywhere. What’s going on over there at your house?”
Greg was so secretive about his life. He didn’t even want to tell you what he had for breakfast, but if there was anything going on with anyone else he wanted to be Jerry Springer and find out every sordid detail.
“All I need is my laptop and a phone line to hook up my modem. Whatever she wants to do is fine with me.”
“Justin,” my sister, Callie got my attention. “A phone call that could make you stay when we’ve being trying for months to do that? What in the world was the call all about?”
“Hold on, Callie, I’m trying to get Mase to tell me what’s going on over there at his house. I’m wondering does he know my sister is losing her mind.” Greg wasn’t letting up.
“Mase,” he continued, “do you know your wife is strange? I mean like borderline mental?”
“I know,” he said, “That’s why I married her.”
“Callie,” Claire said, “the call was from Dr. Margulies. He wants Justin to go to an anniversary party in Jerusalem.”
“An anniversary party?” Gerald raised an eyebrow. “Is that all it took – a party?”
“It’s because they think they found the Q.” Claire I guess, was my designated spokesperson tonight, even though she didn’t have her facts
half right.
“What’s the Q, Justin?” Callie asked. “It must be really important.”
“No, Callie,” Greg said, “Don’t ask Justin the questions, ask Claire, she seems to know everything. Hey, Claire, what’s the Q?” Only the guys laughed.
“I don’t know, Greg,” Claire put her hands on her hips, “you’ll have to ask Justin.”
I was hesitant to explain. I knew that they would not like my explanation and we’d end up in a debate that would probably drag on for the rest of the evening.
In an archaeological find, you can become who you seek. You can live their lives and see through their eyes, or so we convince ourselves. It is a thrill unknown to many. An archaeologist learns about history from the fragmentary remains of the artifacts left behind by past civilizations. She has the power to recreate the history of man from his earliest past and determine his importance to mankind today. That’s who I am. The re-creator of history.
My brothers thought I was more or less just a grave robber.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Well, first, this isn’t really an anniversary party.” I decided to spill the beans. But first I had to correct Claire’s misinformation. “It’s the fifty-year anniversary of the finding of the Dead Sea Scrolls.” I said. “And, in recognition, scholars from around the world were invited to a seminar to help in the translation of the remaining scrolls. Second, no one knows if the Q is with the remaining documents left to be translated, that’s just speculation.”
“Well, how in the world did they invite you to something like this?” Greg seemed genuinely puzzled.
“That’s still not telling us what the Q is?” Callie spoke over Greg.
“Q is short for the German word ‘quelle,’” I explained, “which in English means ‘source.’ And it’s a document, or rather hypothetical document, that’s believed to be the original text from which Matthew and Luke used as their “source” to write their Gospels.”
“Waaait a minute.”
Okay, here we go. Greg was not liking this.
“Are you saying that Matthew and Luke copied their books from something else? That they didn’t write, first hand, as directed by God? Is that what you’re saying? Tell me that’s not what you’re saying.” Greg’s brow was raised and his eyes seemed as if they would pop out of his head at any moment.
“Yep, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Justin.” Greg said. “Justin,” he repeated. “C’mon now.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to me. “Don’t tell me you believe that the Gospels were copied from something else. Please don’t tell me that.”
“I’m not saying that I believe it. I’m just saying that there is a belief that Matthew and Luke copied some of the things in their gospels from other sources. Some think that these documents are imaginary, but some think they’re real.”
“Well, that’s just crazy.” Greg got up a walked away.
“Why in the world would they think that?” Gerald asked.
“Well, because even though Matthew and Luke’s gospels were written about ten years apart they’re a lot alike.”
“So, what does that prove, Mark is just like them, too. All three basically tell the same story, right?” Gerald said.
“Right. But -,” I knew they wouldn’t like this either, “Mark is the other source that some believe were used by Matthew and Luke to write their gospels.”
“Gerald, man, I don’t know why you’re even listening to that craziness. Now she got them copying from the Gospel of Mark.” Greg yelled from the grill.
“Listen, Gerald,” I tried to take back the conversation before he got upset, too, “Matthew, Mark and Luke follow basically the same outline, what you find in one, you can find in the other ones – for the most part. But sometimes Matthew or Luke differs from Mark’s account, but, and this is the interesting part, they never differ in the same place. So, logically one could assume that Mark came first and the other two authors copied from him.”
“That is not the logical deduction from that.” Greg had never thought me logical and with him being a lawyer, he thought himself the expert on the subject.
“And to add to that argument,” I ignored Greg, “some things in Matthew and Luke are the same, but they’re not found in Mark. So with the time difference and the commonality, it was hypothesized that there was another document, in addition to Mark, that Matthew and Luke used to write their stories.”
“The Q,” Gerald answered.
“Right.” At least he followed the theory.
“Gerald. Come over here man and help me with this grill. Stop indulging Justin.” Greg waved him over. I knew, from the start, I could never convince Greg.
“I’m just trying to understand it, Greg, I mean, there are people that believe this.” He turned to me, “Right?” I nodded my head. “So, what do you mean they never differ in the same place?”
“Okay, if Matthew doesn’t agree with or give an account of an event Mark writes about, then Luke’s account will be the same as Mark’s. And same with Luke. If he writes a different account of something that Mark describes, then Matthew’s writing is the same as Mark’s account.”
“So this is a really big discovery, huh? I mean finding the Q?” Callie asked.
Callie had been interested in my work every since she went with me on my first dig in Arizona. She had the summer off from her school job and my mother was insistent that I was too young to go by myself. She found a new respect for digging in dirt that summer.
“No, Callie, the big discovery was made in 1947 when they found the Dead Sea Scrolls. And I only mentioned to Claire that it might include the Q.” Claire was bouncing around getting everything set up. I shook my head, she was always confusing people. “Of course, it would be a big deal if we did find the Q or some other new fact just still untranslated waiting to be found.”
“But the Q probably won’t be that revelation.” I said. “The Dead Sea Scrolls were Old Testament manuscripts kept by Jewish monks called the Essenes. They were important because they turned out to be the oldest surviving copies of the Hebrew Bible. Nine hundred years older than any other known manuscript of the Book of Isaiah. And, then they found a few non-canonized books like the Book of Enoch that we hadn’t known about. So, it’s doubtful if they put New Testament manuscripts in with them.”
“I just can’t get with this copying,” Greg rejected the whole notion.
“Okay, so maybe not copied, but maybe they used it as a reference,” Mase said.
“Well, they haven’t found this thing yet, right?” Greg questioned.
Didn’t he just hear me say that?
“Yes, Greg that’s right.”
“I know, because it doesn’t exist,” he said. “And I am sure whatever is left to be translated will not cause any new revelations. God gave us everything He wanted us to know in the sixty-six books of the Bible, including who wrote it. Whatever is yet to be found will just corroborate what we already know.”
“Greg, whatever it is, I’m just happy to be going.” I tried to settle him down. But secretly, I did hope that something big might happen while I was in Jerusalem.
“How in the world did they pick you anyway?” Greg asked again.
“Actually, they didn’t pick me. They asked Dr. Margulies to come and he asked me.”
“I was going to say, isn’t this a little out of your league, translating famous documents? I thought you dug up dead people and studied their cookware.” Greg said.
I corrected him, “Since I became curator, I study dead people and the cookware that other people dig up.”
“Yeah, Greg, she got a promotion.” Claire was back from the kitchen. Michael’s wife, Regina came out with her.
“Hi, Regina.” I got up and walked over to her. Maybe we could change the subject and get Greg out of his funk.
Michael had such a beautiful wife. She was one of the few people in our little group who didn’t grow up with us. She had a completely different history. That w
as so fascinating to me.
Hi, Justin.” She came over and hugged me. “So I hear you’re not leaving us after all? I’m glad. We don’t need to lose any women out of this group, these men already think they are the only voice that counts. One less woman would only exacerbate the situation.”
“Yeah, well, you know, men rule the world.”
“Only if we let them, Justin. Only if we let them.”
“Where is Doobie, he didn’t come with you? It’s time to eat.” Claire was questioning Sean who had just come in without Doobie. “How come he didn’t come with you, Sean?”
Even though she was the baby of the clan, she always felt it was her job to keep us all together, happy and fed. Sean and Doobie both lived in the same apartment complex and spent all their time together since Sean’s wife had died of cancer the year before. But tonight, Sean had shown up Doobie-less.
“Don’t worry, Claire, once the food is out, he’ll show up.” Sean patted Claire on the back.
“If he doesn’t get here soon, I’m calling him,” she said.
“Claire, leave the man alone. He will get here when he gets here,” Greg said.
“If he doesn’t get here soon, I’m calling him.”
Michael leaned over to Callie, nodded toward Claire and spoke in a hushed voice. “Callie, have you ever noticed how Claire repeats the same thing over and over? Do you think maybe she has a glitch in some part of her brain or something?”
“I don’t know, Michael, you’d have to ask Claire, she’s the one with the medical degree.”
“See, there’s the thing, who in their right mind would spend all those years in school, get a medical degree and then work in a lab. There’s no money in research. She should have gone into practice.”
“Claire’s happy,” Callie said.
“Most crazy people are.”
I smacked him on his arm. “Don’t make fun of Claire, Michael. She keeps up with her medical license.”
“Hey, Sean, you missed Justin telling us about her ‘Quest for the Q’ in Jerusalem with Dr. Margulies.” Greg yelled over after seeing Sean.
In the Beginning: Mars Origin I Series Book I Page 3
