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

their holes and birds have their nests, but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head.”
    “That’s so sad,” said Nathaniel.
    “Yes, it is,” I said. “Dunk him again. He still has barf on his beard.”
    And so, cleansed and slung over a camel damply, Joshua did by moonlight come into Capernaum, where he would be welcomed as if it were his home.

    “Out!” screeched the old woman. “Out of the house, out of town, out of Galilee for all I care, you aren’t staying here.”
    It was a beautiful dawn over the lake, the sky painted with yellow and orange, gentle waves lapped against the keels of Capernaum’s fishing boats. The village was only a stone’s throw away from the water, and golden sunlight reflected off the waves onto the black stone walls of the houses, making the light appear to dance to the calls of the gulls and songbirds. The houses were built together in two big clusters, sharing common walls, with entries from every which way, and none more than one story tall. There was a small main road through the village between the two clusters of homes. Along the way were a few merchant booths, a blacksmith’s shop, and, on its own little square, a synagogue that looked as if it could contain far more worshipers than the three hundred residents of the village. But villages were thick along the shores of the lake, one running right into the next, and we guessed that perhaps the synagogue served a number of villages. There was no central square around the well as there was in most inland villages, because the people pulled their water from the lake or a spring nearby that bubbled clean chilly water into the air as high as two men.
    Andrew had deposited us at his brother Peter’s house, and we had fallen asleep in the great room among the children only a few hours before Peter’s mother-in-law awoke to chase us out of the house. Joshua was holding his head with both hands as if to keep it from falling off his neck.
    “I won’t have freeloaders and scalawags in my house,” the old woman shouted as she threw my satchel out after us.
    “Ouch,” said Joshua, flinching from the noise.
    “We’re in Capernaum, Josh,” I said. “A man named Andrew brought us here because his nephews stole our camels.”
    “You said Maggie was dying,” Joshua said.
    “Would you have left John if I’d told you that Maggie wanted to see you?”
    “No.” He smiled dreamily. “It was good to see Maggie.” Then the smile turned to a scowl. “Alive.”
    “John wouldn’t listen, Joshua. You were in the desert all last month, you didn’t see all of the soldiers, even scribes hiding in the crowd, writing down what John was saying. This was bound to happen.”
    “Then you should have warned John!”
    “I warned John! Every day I warned John. He didn’t listen to reason any more than you would have.”
    “We have to go back to Judea. John’s followers—”
    “Will become your followers. No more preparation, Josh.”
    Joshua nodded, looking at the ground in front of him. “It’s time. Where are the others?”
    “I’ve sent Philip and Nathaniel to Sepphoris to sell the camels. Bartholomew is sleeping in the reeds with the dogs.”
    “We’re going to need more disciples,” Joshua said.
    “We’re broke, Josh. We’re going to need disciples with jobs.”

    An hour later we stood on the shore near where Andrew and his brother were casting nets. Peter was taller and leaner than his brother, and he had a head of gray hair wilder than even John the Baptist’s, while Andrew pushed his dark hair back and tied it with a cord so it stayed out of his face when he was in the water. They were both naked, which is how men fished the lake when they were close to the shore.
    I had mixed a headache remedy for Joshua out of tree bark, and I could tell it was working, but perhaps not quite enough. I pushed Joshua toward the shore.
    “I’m not ready for this. I feel terrible.”
    “Ask them.”
    “Andrew,” Joshua called. “Thank you for bringing us home with you. And you too, Peter.”
    “Did my mother-in-law toss you out?” asked Peter. He cast his net and waited for it to settle, then dove into the lake and gathered the net in his arms. There was one tiny fish inside. He reached in and pulled it out, then tossed it back into the lake. “Grow,” he said.
    “You know who I am?” said Joshua.
    “I’ve heard,” said Peter. “Andrew says you turned water into wine. And you cured the blind and the lame. He