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

as far as he understood, anyway, but the Baptist worried me. John was attracting the attention of Herod Antipas. Herod had married his brother Philip’s wife, Herodia, without her obtaining a divorce, which was forbidden by Jewish law, an absolute outrage by the more severe laws of the Essenes, and a subject that fit well into John’s pervasive “slut” theme. I was starting to notice soldiers from Herod’s personal guard hovering around the edge of John’s crowds when he preached.
    I confronted the Baptist one evening when he came out of the wilderness in one of his evangelical rages to ambush me, Joshua, Bartholomew, and a new guy as we sat around eating our locusts.
    “Slut!” John shouted with his “thunder of Elijah” voice, waving a finger under Bart’s nose.
    “Yeah, John, Bartholomew’s been getting laid a lot,” I said, evangelizing for sarcasm.
    “Almost,” said Bart.
    “I mean with another human being, Bart.”
    “Oh. Sorry. Never mind.”
    John wheeled on the new guy, who put his hands up. “I’m new,” he said.
    Thus rebuked, John spun to face Joshua.
    “Celibate,” Joshua said. “Always have been, always will be. Not happy about it.”
    Finally John turned to me. “Slut!”
    “John, I’m cleansed, you baptized me six times today.” Joshua elbowed me in the ribs. “What? It was hot. Point is, I counted fifty soldiers in the crowd today, so ease up a little on the slut talk. You’re backed up or something. You really need to rethink this no marriage, no sex, no fun, ascetic thing.”
    “And the honey-and-locust living-in-a pit thing,” said the new guy.
    “He’s no different than Melchior or Gaspar,” Joshua said. “They were both ascetics.”
    “Melchior and Gaspar weren’t running around calling the provincial governor a slut in front of hundreds of people. It’s a big difference, and it’s going to get him killed.”
    “I am cleansed of sin and unafraid,” said John, sitting down by the fire now, some of his verve gone.
    “Yeah, are you cleansed of guilt? Because you’re going to have the blood of thousands on your hands when the Romans come to get you. In case you haven’t noticed, they don’t just kill the leaders of a movement. There’s a thousand crosses on the road to Jerusalem where Zealots died, and they weren’t all leaders.”
    “I am unafraid.” John hung his head until the ends of his hair were dipping into the honey in his bowl. “Herodia and Herod are sluts. He’s as close as we have to a Jewish king, and he’s a slut.”
    Joshua pushed his cousin’s hair out of his eyes and squeezed the wild man’s shoulder. “If it be so, then so be it. As the angel foretold, you were born to preach the truth.”
    I stood up and tossed my locusts into the fire, showering sparks over John and Joshua. “I’ve only met two people whose births were announced by angels, and three-quarters of them are loony.” And I stormed off to my pit.
    “Amen,” said the new guy.

    That night, as I was falling asleep, I heard Joshua scrambling in the pit next to mine, as if a bug or an idea had roused him from his bedroll. “Hey!” he said.
    “What?” I replied.
    “I just did the math. Three quarters of two is—”
    “One and a half,” said the new guy, who had moved into the pit on the other side of Josh. “So John’s either all crazy and you’re half crazy, or you’re three-quarters crazy and John’s three-quarters crazy, or—well—actually it’s a constant ratio, I’d have to graph it out for you.”
    “So what are you saying?”
    “Nothing,” said the new guy. “I’m new.”

    The next morning Joshua leapt out of his pit, shook off the scorpions, and after a long morning whiz, kicked some dirt clods into my pit to thunk me from my slumber.
    “This is it,” Joshua said. “Come down to the river, I’m going to have John baptize me today.”
    “Which will make it different from yesterday in what way?”
    “You’ll see. I have a feeling.” And off he went.
    The new guy prairie-dogged up out of his pit. He was tall, the new guy, and the morning sun caught on his bald scalp as he looked around. He noticed some flowers growing where Joshua had just relieved himself. Lush blossoms of a half-dozen vibrant colors stood surrounded by the deadest landscape on the planet. “Hey, were those there yesterday?”
    “That always happens,” I said. “We don’t talk about it.”
    “Wow,” said the new guy. “Can I tag along with you