Lamb: the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal

first light we could see thousands, no, tens of thousands of people gathering at the banks of the river, all dressed in white, except for a few old men who were naked. They moved into the water and stood facing east, heads raised in anticipation, dotting the river as far as the eye could see. As the sun became a molten fingernail of light on the horizon, the muddy surface of the river turned golden. The gold light reflected off its surface onto the buildings, the shanties, the trees, the palaces, making everything in sight, including the worshipers, appear to have been gilded. And worshipers they were, for we could hear their songs from where we sat, and although we could not discern the words, we could hear that these were the songs of God.
    “Are those the same people from last night?” I said.
    “They would have to be, wouldn’t they?”
    “I don’t understand these people. I don’t understand their religion. I don’t understand how they think.”
    Joshua stood and watched the Indians bowing and singing to the dawn, looking occasionally to the face of the child that slept on his shoulder. “This is testament to the glory of God’s creation, whether these people know it or not.”
    “How can you say that? The sacrifices to Kali, the way the Untouchables are treated. Whatever they might believe, in practice their religion is hideous.”
    “You’re right. It’s not right to condemn this child because she was not born a Brahman?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Then is it right to condemn her because she is not born a Jew?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “A man who is born a gentile may not see the kingdom of God. Are we, as Hebrews, any different from them? The lambs at the temple on Passover? The wealth and power of the Sadducees while others go hungry? At least the Untouchables can reach their reward eventually, through karma and rebirth. We don’t allow any gentile to do so.”
    “You can’t compare what they do to God’s law. We don’t sacrifice human beings. We feed our poor, we take care of the sick.”
    “Unless the sick are unclean,” Joshua said.
    “But, Josh, we’re the chosen. It’s God’s will.”
    “But is it right? He won’t tell me what to do. So I’ll say. And I say, no more.”
    “You’re not just talking about eating bacon, are you?”
    “Gautama the Buddha gave the way to people of all births to find the hand of God. With no blood sacrifice. Our doors have been marked with blood for too long, Biff.”
    “So that’s what you think you’re going to do? Bring God to everyone?”
    “Yes. After a nap.”
    “Of course, I meant after a nap.”
    Joshua held the little girl so I could see her face as she slept on his shoulder.

    When the children awoke we led them back to their families at the pits, handing them into the arms of their mothers, who snatched each child away from us as if we were devils incarnate; they glared over their shoulders as they carried the babies back to their pits.
    “Grateful bunch,” I said.
    “They are afraid that we’ve angered Kali. And we’ve brought them another hungry mouth.”
    “Still. Why did they help us if they didn’t want their children back?”
    “Because we told them what to do. That’s what they do. What they are told. That’s how the Brahmans keep them in line. If they do what they are told, then perhaps they will not be Untouchables next life.”
    “That’s depressing.”
    Joshua nodded. We only had little Vitra to return to her father now, and I was sure that Rumi would be happy to see his daughter. His distress over losing her had basically been the reason he had saved our lives. As we came over the sandstone rise we could see that Rumi was not alone in his pit.
    Rumi stood on his sitting rock, stark naked, sprinkling salt on his erect member as a large humpbacked cow, which nearly filled the rest of the pit, licked at the salt. Joshua held Vitra so she faced away from the pit, then backed away, as if he didn’t want to disturb the moment of beefy intimacy.
    “A cow, Rumi?” I exclaimed. “I thought you people had beliefs.”
    “That’s not a cow, that’s a bull,” Joshua said.
    “Oh, that’s got to be your super-bonus abomination there. Where we come from whole cities get destroyed for that kind of thing, Rumi.” I reached over and put my hand over Vitra’s eyes. “Stay away from Daddy, honey, or you’ll turn into a pillar of salt.”
    “But this is my wife, reincarnated.”
    “Oh, don’t try that one