The Didymus Contingency

SEVENTEEN
Acceptance
6:07 P.M.
30 A.D.

An old fig tree provided David with a much-needed rest as he leaned against it, gazing out over the green landscape. He had left Jerusalem and retreated to a hillside just north of Bethany where he and Tom would come to talk and sometimes return to the future for a Cherry Pepsi, rack of ribs or whatever else they missed of their own time. But the scenic view had yet to calm David’s nerves. A typhoon of troubling thoughts churned in David’s mind. Tom had betrayed them. Tom had become the enemy. David wished it weren’t true, but he saw Tom with the Pharisees, telling them exactly what they wanted to hear. He had defected and in doing so had proven the Bible to be inaccurate. Damn him.

The urge to pray crept up on David. While David had never been one to consistently pray on a daily basis, it’s what he normally did when life got callous, desperate or merciless. But now…now he wasn’t sure if it would do any good. But David was stubborn and not ready to give up his faith yet. Only he and Tom had witnessed Tom’s betrayal. How could it be recorded in the Bible if no one saw it?

“Lord Jesus,” David said aloud, “I know you are here on earth with me now and I could just as easily talk to you in person, but I also know you can hear my prayers… If Tom is working against you, please make it clear to me what you would have me do? Is this the way things happened? Is this your will? More than that… Please bring Tom back to me. Please turn him away from the men who seek to kill you. Please keep him-”

“David,” Tom’s voice interrupted.

David jumped. He hadn’t heard Tom approach.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Tom asked.

David looked back briefly and saw Tom’s silhouette standing in the dark shadow of the tree. “Go away.” David demanded.

“I need your help,” Tom said.

David was too upset to hear the light rasp in Tom’s voice. As David flew to his feet, his head swelled with anger, so much that his eyes burnt. “Would you have me betray Jesus too?” David yelled as he grabbed Tom and shoved him against the tree.

“ARGH!” Tom screamed in agony.

David gasped as Tom’s face became visible in the fading sunlight. Dry blood was caked around the open gash created by Caiaphas’s whip.

David let go of Tom and took a step back. He could see by Tom’s stance, how he was holding his stomach, how he was leaning forward and breathing shallow, that he had been beaten, close to death. “What happened to you?”

“You should see the other guy, or should I say, ‘other guys,’” joked Tom with a laugh that made him flinch with pain. “Wasn’t exactly a fair fight.”

Tom leaned his weight against the tree and slid down to the ground, careful not to catch the open wound on his back on a shard of bark. David stood above him. “I saw you, Tom. They’re going to kill him, and you’re helping them.”

Tom looked up at David. “No… I’m not helping them.”

“Don’t lie to me,” David said, growing angry despite Tom’s wounds. “I saw you with them. I followed you to Jerusalem.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I told them I wouldn’t help them kill Jesus. I told them I just wanted to prove he was a fraud, that he was my friend and I wouldn’t have anything to do with killing him…”

This was news to David. “You did?”

“Next time you spy, try staying for the entire conversation.” Tom smiled. “Oh, and I told them that their religious laws were silly.”

David put his hand over his mouth.

“That didn’t go over too well,” Tom said.

“You said that to Pharisees?” David asked.

Tom nodded.

“Be glad they let you live,” David said with a nervous laugh.

“I don’t think they intended to,” Tom said. “David, we have to stop them.”

David kneeled down in front of Tom. “We can’t stop them.”

“Why not?”

“Remember when Jesus called you to be a disciple? And I went back to the future?” David asked.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I never told you what I discovered.”

Tom sat up a little straighter, waiting for the news.

“Tom…the past can’t be changed.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Tom was near laughing, but held it in for fear of the pain it would cause.

“Did you stop to think about how Thomas the disciple could be in the Bible, before we came back in time? Time can’t be altered. Everything we’re doing now is already history.”

“I’m not following you.”

“You’ve been beaten up so I’ll forgive your mental incompetence.”

“Hey,” Tom said, as he sat up as though to converse better.

“No one ever goes back in time to kill Hitler. I know this for a fact because if they had, it would already be history and there would have been no holocaust. The assassination of JFK is never foiled, the World Trade Center still falls, and Jesus will die on the cross. These things can’t be changed. The past is already the past, Tom. The changes we make are already recorded in history.”

“You’re telling me that Jesus is going to be murdered and there’s nothing we can do about it?” Tom said.

“It’s already history.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Warn him if it will ease your mind, but I’m positive he already knows.” David stood to his feet and offered Tom his hand. “But right now we need to go see Mary and get you cleaned up.”

With a strong yank, David pulled Tom to his feet and helped support his weight. As the pair began the walk toward the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, David smiled. Tom hadn’t betrayed his friends. The Bible was accurate. David realized he should have never doubted. But his grin swiftly faded as he discerned what that fully meant. The next few weeks would be the best and worst of his and Tom’s lives. They would experience the wonder of God and the pure evil of men. He felt secure with how things would turn out for Tom, but he had no idea what his own fate would be. And that’s what scared him most.

Five days passed before Tom felt well enough to leave his bed. His wounds healed well under Mary’s tender care. Tom would have stayed longer, enjoying the attention, but David insisted they rejoin Jesus and the disciples. It would soon be Passover and Jesus would be entering Jerusalem, the city that loved and hated him.

Tom remembered celebrating Passover with his family when he was a child and the story of Passover fascinated him. God freed his people when he smote their Egyptian masters by killing every first-born son in the land of Egypt, but sparing the Hebrews, who had marked their homes with the blood of the paschal lamb. The story continued with pillars of fire, Egyptian armies and the parting of the Reed Sea. And he could recall his Father complaining about Jews who said Moses parted the Red Sea. “Don’t they know their own heritage?” he would shout. “Any good Jew knows it was Yam Suph, the Reed Sea!” But what Tom remembered most about the story was how he tormented his older brother, telling him that their house was unmarked as the Passover came and went every year. He would watch at night as every breeze made his nervous brother twitch for fear that God might return for the firstborn again. A month after Tom’s tenth birthday, his parents separated, the Passover celebration was forgotten and Tom’s interest in Biblical things was replaced by mathematics and girls.

That was a lifetime ago and two thousand years from now. Tom rubbed the memories out of his eyes as he stared down at Jerusalem, glowing in the bright afternoon sun. Tom couldn’t believe what they were doing. Jerusalem was full of people, gathered for the Passover feast, many of whom wanted to kill Jesus. Yet here they were, on a hill overlooking the city, about to enter through the front door. Tom had warned Jesus and found David was right. Jesus knew of the threat to his life. Not only that, he fully expected to be killed.

That conversation ended abruptly as Tom didn’t want to frighten Mary with an angry outburst after she had tended his wounds so gently. And as for Mary, Tom wasn’t sure what to do about her. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman since Megan…but after Jesus was dead…and didn’t rise from the grave…Tom knew he and David would be returning to the future, without Mary. He thought it best to slow things down so that when he and David disappeared, it wouldn’t hurt her too badly. When she had closed her eyes for a kiss goodbye, all she felt was the breeze from Tom’s body as he turned and left without a word.

It was one of the hardest things Tom had ever done in his life, but what they were about to do was even worse. Tom, David and the disciples stood behind Jesus, looking down at Jerusalem. It was a surreal sight. Word of Jesus’s coming had reached the city and hordes of believers had prepared a welcome. Thousands of people stood in front of the city gates waving palm branches and shouting “Hosannah! Hosannah in the highest!” The sound could be heard from Bethany even before they set out that morning.

Tom stood next to Jesus. “You sure about this?”

Jesus nodded.

“Let’s get it over with then,” Tom said.

Jesus turned to Tom. “Wait,” he said, very seriously. “I’m not ready.”

Tom sighed with relief. Maybe Jesus didn’t have a death wish after all? Was Jesus coming to his senses? Maybe they would leave and Jesus wouldn’t be killed and Jesus ran behind a tree. Tom glanced at the other disciples, questioning them with his eyes. Most shrugged. They didn’t know what was happening either.

Then the answer came in the sound of trickling water. Smiles stretched across the faces of everyone present. “It seems even the Son of God has to relieve himself from time to time!” Matthew said with a hearty laugh.

Jesus reappeared from behind the tree, adjusting his robe with a smile. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

“Don’t forget your handsome steed,” Matthew said.

“How could I?” Jesus asked. “Bring him to me.”

Peter led a donkey to Jesus, who mounted its back. Tom smiled at how ridiculous this must look. The people at the bottom of the hill were expecting a king, a deliverer from the dark times they had been living, a mighty warrior to slay their enemies and free their nation from the Romans. Instead, they were going to get Jesus, a thick carpenter riding a donkey. No wonder they killed him, Tom thought.

The group headed for the city. Tom noticed that everyone looked nervous and unsure, except for David and Jesus. Tom wished he knew what they knew. The turning in his stomach was almost unbearable.

Tarsus and Caiaphas stood on the city’s outer wall, looking down at the people, who were waving palm branches at Jesus, foul Jesus, riding into their city like a king on an ass. The sheer nerve of the man infuriated them. Tarsus’s lip twitched. “If we don’t do something soon, the people will not be swayed against him.”

Caiaphas squinted in thought as he watched the palm branches sway up and down over Jesus. Caiaphas saw Tom walking with the other disciples and sneered. He had hoped Tom would have died from his wounds. Caiaphas scanned the rest of the disciples’ faces and as he looked at Judas, their eyes met. A thought slammed into Caiaphas’s mind as though it was not his own. As though someone had whispered it clearly into his ear.

“If we take him now we will be stoned, but perhaps there is another way,” Caiaphas said.

“You have something in mind?” Tarsus asked.

“You see there,” Caiaphas said as he pointed Tom out, walking behind Jesus with David and the other disciples.

“Yes, the one who escaped,” Tarsus said. “I don’t think he’ll be of any more use to us.”

“Indeed, but if one disciple fails to believe in Jesus so much that he wants to prove the man a fraud, perhaps another will believe Jesus to be so wrong, so evil, that he might want Jesus to die as much as us?”

“If only that were true,” Tarsus said.

“Perhaps it already is… Look there,” Caiaphas said, as he shook his finger at Judas. “The small one. Judas. I think his name is Judas. Yes, we know it is.”

Tarsus looked out and saw Judas, who was now looking at the ground. “Yes, he does seem a bit frail, doesn’t he? He should be easy to influence.”

“We will take Judas and make him do our bidding,” Caiaphas said. Then he squeezed his hands together and said to himself, “Yes. Yes. No. Our master’s bidding. Yes, our master’s bidding. We should go tell him. Yes.”

Caiaphas turned away from what he now considered Jesus’s last triumph. From here on, he would control the minds and souls of his people. He would use his power to sentence Jesus to death. He would reclaim Israel for the Jews, for the laws of Moses, for the Pharisees…for the Master.

Tarsus and Caiaphas left the wall, eagerly discussing their plans for the future. As they walked, their shadows followed them, as did a third.

Judas strode down a shop-lined street of the lower city. He always took a great amount of pride in his monetary duties, even when it required him to shop for thirteen men. But today’s shopping order was easy: bread; Judas had quickly found and bought five loaves. He then had the time to scan the shops for exotic fruit, which he bought and devoured. No one would be the wiser!

After having his fill of fine fruit, Judas was returning to the upper room in which they were to dine tonight. But something caught his eye. A jewelry stand selling gold and silver items covered in all sorts of sparkling gems.

“Can I help you find something? Some gold perhaps? For a lady or perhaps for yourself?” the stand owner asked.

The extravagant items captivated Judas, his eyes ablaze with interest. The owner saw his chance and seized it. “This would look very nice on you.”

“I-I don’t know,” Judas said, wide eyed.

The owner held up a bracelet. It was gold with two green gems and a red ruby. “This bracelet was part of Solomon’s own treasure,” declared the owner.

“Really?” Judas’s eyebrows rose.

“Try it on. See how it fits you.”

Judas raised his arm to the owner, who slipped it on Judas’s wrist, mimicking a servant.

“There you are, master,” the owner said. “Like King Solomon himself!”

“Buy it,” said a voice inside Judas’s head.

“Yes, buy it! You’re a king,” another voice said.

Dismissing the voices as his own thoughts, Judas smiled wide as he looked at the bracelet, snug on his wrist. It fit him well indeed! Judas looked at the owner. “How much?”

Judas had never bought something that wasn’t on the order and now that he had, he felt great. True, it was expensive, but he was in charge of the money and no one needed to know. If someone asked, he would tell the others it was a gift. Judas looked at his wrist where the bracelet dangled below the five loaves of bread. King Solomon had nothing on him!

The shopping district of the lower city was nearly behind Judas as he strode onto an empty street, which was lined with alleys on either side. He was oblivious to the world and almost didn’t hear the high-pitched voice call to him. “Hello!”

Windows, doors and alleyways spun through Judas’s vision as he searched the vicinity for the body belonging to the voice. Where did it come from and was it talking to him?

“Over here!”

Judas pivoted and saw only an empty alley.

“Where are you, child? I cannot see you.” Judas said.

“The alley in front of you. Quick, I need your help!”

Judas approached the alley cautiously and peered into the shadows. He thought he saw a small figure on the ground, but it was too dark inside the alley to make out clearly.

“Please, hurry,” pleaded the voice, which Judas now thought must belong to a little girl. She sounded scared, maybe hurt. Judas caught a glimpse of his bracelet, strong, noble and kingly. Helping someone in need felt like the right thing for a man like Judas to do. He placed his bread on the ground just inside the alley and entered.

Looking at the ground before placing each foot forward, Judas edged into the alley and stopped just five feet away from a little girl who was sitting on the ground with her back to Judas. “Are you lost?” Judas asked.

“I need your help,” the girl said.

An old feeling suddenly clawed at Judas. Since Judas had saved his friends from being stoned at the temple, he hadn’t felt afraid. He was a new man, a brave man. He couldn’t understand why this was happening again. His fingers grew cold and tingly. He thought of retreat, but wouldn’t leave the little girl to whatever danger might be around. “Tell me, child, what would you have me do?”

“Do you follow the man named Jesus?” the child asked.

Judas’s palms grew sweaty and his eyes darted around the alley. What was making him feel this way? His senses pounded on his skull, warning of danger, issuing the call to flee. But the child! “Yes, yes I do. Now then, come along. Let’s get you out of this alley. Quickly, child.”

“Take my hand,” the child said.

The girl raised a chubby hand in the air and Judas took a hold of it. Her grip was loose at first but quickly became like a wine press. The girl whipped her head around toward Judas, revealing a chapped and distorted face, as though her skin was peeling tree bark. “Judas, Judas,” the girl said, her voice like an angry old man’s. “How trusting of you. Even the prowling lion can look as pure and innocent as a small child. Did not your master teach you that?”

Lungs heaving and heart racing, Judas felt his throat swell with anxiety. What was this? He opened his mouth to scream, but no air escaped. The darkness in the alley began to move, to writhe over the walls and floor like a living shadow. The black mass sealed off the entrance to the alley and he felt more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

Judas yanked his hand away from the hideous girl and fell backwards against the alley’s wall. Before he could catch a breath, the girl was standing above him with her rot-smelling face only inches from his. “Do you know who I am, Judas?”

His body trembling, Judas was unable to answer.

“Yes, you do… I can see it in your eyes,” the girl said with a smile.

“What do you want with me?” shouted Judas.

“I told you the truth,” the girl said, as she stood up straight. “You see. I’m not all bad.” The girl smiled wider. “I need your help.”

The swirling darkness closed in tighter, reducing the alley to a ten-foot black box, and shrinking. Voices could be heard from the darkness. “You will help us. Yes, help us. Buy the bracelet. It looks so good on you! Like a king! Like a fool! Like a traitor! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Will you help me, Judas?” the girl asked.

The darkness closed in tighter and tighter so that Judas wouldn’t have been able to stand. It threatened to crush them both. Judas felt his life being snuffed. His heart pounded. He wished for death but knew it wouldn’t come. He closed his eyes tight, terrified to see what would happen. “ Yes!” he cried. “I’ll help you! Just stop! Please stop!”

A searing heat burned Judas’s back, spreading through his shoulders and into his head. Then the pain dissipated. Judas waited several seconds. He heard nothing, felt nothing. He opened his eyes. The girl was gone. He was alone in the alley, as though nothing had happened. Resting his head on his arms, Judas whimpered and cried like a beaten child.

“ Get up, Judas!” came a loud voice.

Judas screamed and jumped to his feet. His head twisted from side to side, searching. But no one was there. No girl. No blackness. There was no source for the voice. It was all around him… No, it was inside him.

“You know where you need to go. Caiaphas is waiting for you. You know what must be done. Judas, I have faith in you,” the voice said.

Judas caught his breath for a moment, then ran to the edge of the alley, picked up his bread and ran toward the upper city.