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

okay?” she said, looking over her shoulder, giving me a squeeze.
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m just trying to think of a metaphor.”
    “He got a woman from up there,” I heard one of the old blind guys say.
    “Yeah, I heard her drop. Boost me up, I’ll feel around.”

    In the courtyard, with Maggie, over wine, I said, “So you really didn’t recognize me?”
    “Of course I recognized you. I’ve never done that before. I just hope no one saw me, they still stone women for that.”
    “I know. Oh, Maggie, I have so much to tell you.”
    She took my hand. “I know.” She looked into my eyes, past my eyes, her blue eyes looking for something beyond me.
    “He’s fine,” I said, finally. “He’s gone into the desert to fast and wait for a message from the Lord.”
    She smiled. There was a little of my blood in the corners of her mouth, or maybe that was wine. “He’s come home to take his place as the Messiah then?”
    “Yes. But I don’t think the way people think.”
    “People think that John might be the Messiah.”
    “John is…He’s…”
    “He’s really pissing Herod off,” Maggie offered.
    “I know.”
    “Are you and Josh going to stay with John?”
    “I hope not. I want Joshua to leave. I just have to get him away from John long enough to see what’s going on. Maybe this fast…”
    The iron lock on the gate to the courtyard rattled, then the whole gate shook. Maggie had locked it behind us after we’d entered. A man cursed. Evidently Jakan was having trouble with his key.
    Maggie stood and pulled me to my feet. “Look, I’m going to a wedding in Cana next month with my sister Martha, the week after Tabernacles. Jakan can’t go, he’s got some meeting of the Sanhedrin or something. Come to Cana. Bring Joshua.”
    “I’ll try.”
    She ran to the closest wall and held her hand in a stirrup. “Over.”
    “But, Maggie…”
    “Don’t be a wuss. Step, hands—step, shoulders—and over. Be careful of the pottery on top.”
    And I ran—did exactly as she’d said: one foot in the stirrup, one on her shoulder, and over the wall before Jakan could get in the gate.
    “Got one!” said one of the old blind guys as I tumbled down on top of them.
    “Hold her still while I stick it in.”

    I was sitting on a boulder, waiting for Joshua when he came out of the desert. I held out my arms to hug him and he fell forward, letting me catch him. I lowered him to the rock where I had been sitting. He had been smart enough to coat all the exposed parts of his skin with mud, probably mixed from his own urine, to protect it from burning, but in a few spots on his forehead and hands the mud had crumbled away and the skin was gone, burned to raw flesh. His arms were as thin as a small girl’s, they swam in the wide sleeves of his tunic.
    “You okay?”
    He nodded. I handed him a water skin I had been keeping cool in the shade. He drank in little sips, pacing himself.
    “Locust?” I said, holding up one of the crispy torments between my thumb and forefinger.
    At the sight of it I thought Joshua would vomit the water he had just drunk. “Just kidding,” I said. I whipped open the mouth of my satchel, revealing dates, fresh figs, olives, cheese, a half-dozen flat loaves of bread, and a full wineskin. I’d sent the new guy into Jericho the day before to bring back the food.
    Josh looked at the food spilling out of the satchel and grinned, then covered his mouth with his hand. “Ow. Ouch. Ow.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Lips…chapped.”
    “Myrrh,” I said, pulling a small jar of the ointment from the satchel and handing it to him.
    An hour later the Son of God was refreshed and rejuvenated, and we sat sharing the last of the wine, the first that Joshua had had since we’d come home from India over a year ago.
    “So, what did you see in the desert?”
    “The Devil.”
    “The Devil?”
    “Yep. He tempted me. Power, wealth, sex, that sort of thing. I turned him down.”
    “What did he look like?”
    “He was tall.”
    “Tall? The prince of darkness, the serpent of temptation, the source of all corruption and evil, and all you can say about him is he was tall?”
    “Pretty tall.”
    “Oh, good, I’ll be on the lookout then.”
    Joshua said, pointing at the new guy. “He’s tall, too.” I realized then that the Messiah might be a little tipsy.
    “Not the Devil, Josh.”
    “Well, who is he then?”
    “I’m Philip,” said the new guy. “I’m going with you to Cana