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

scattering, and there, behind him, was the biggest cobra I had ever seen. It reared up until it was taller than my friend, spreading a hood like a cloak.
    “Run, Joshua.”
    He smiled. “I’m going to call her Sarah, after Abraham’s wife. These are her children.”
    “No kidding? Say good-bye now, Josh.”
    “I want to show Mother. She loves prophecy.” With that, he was off toward the village, the giant serpent following him like a shadow. The baby snakes stayed in the nest and I backed slowly away before running after my friend.
    I once brought a frog home, hoping to keep him as a pet. Not a large frog, a one-handed frog, quiet and well mannered. My mother made me release him, then cleanse myself in the immersion pool (the mikveh) at the synagogue. Still she wouldn’t let me in the house until after sunset because I was unclean. Joshua led a fourteen-foot-long cobra into his house and his mother squealed with joy. My mother never squealed.

    Mary slung the baby to her hip, kneeled in front of her son, and quoted Isaiah: “‘The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice’s den.’”
    James, Judah, and Elizabeth cowered in the corner, too frightened to cry. I stood outside the doorway watching.
    The snake swayed behind Joshua as if preparing to strike. “Her name is Sarah.”
    “They were cobras, not asps,” I said. “A whole pile of cobras.”
    “Can we keep her?” Joshua asked. “I’ll catch rats for her, and make a bed for her next to Elizabeth’s.”
    “Definitely not asps. I’d know an asp if I saw one. Probably not a cockatrice either. I’d say a cobra.” (Actually, I didn’t know an asp from a hole in the ground.)
    “Shush, Biff,” Mary said. My heart broke with the harshness in my love’s voice.
    Just then Joseph rounded the corner and went through the door before I could catch him. No worry, he was back outside in an instant. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!”
    I checked to see if Joseph’s heart had failed, having quickly decided that once Mary and I were married the snake would have to go, or at least sleep outside, but the burly carpenter seemed only shaken, and a little dusty from his backward dive through the door.
    “Not an asp, right?” I asked. “Asps are made small to fit the breasts of Egyptian queens, right?”
    Joseph ignored me. “Back away slowly, son. I’ll get a knife from my workshop.”
    “She won’t hurt us,” Joshua said. “Her name is Sarah. She’s from Isaiah.”
    “It is in the prophecy, Joseph,” Mary said.
    I could see Joseph searching his memory for the passage. Although only a layman, he knew his scripture as well as anyone. “I don’t remember the part about Sarah.”
    “I don’t think it’s prophecy,” I offered. “It says asps, and that is definitely not an asp. I’d say she’s going to bite Joshua’s ass off if you don’t grab her, Joseph.” (A guy has to try.)
    “Can I keep her?” Joshua asked.
    Joseph had regained his composure by now. Evidently, once you accept that your wife slept with God, extraordinary events seem sort of commonplace.
    “Take her back where you found her, Joshua, the prophecy has been fulfilled now.”
    “But I want to keep her.”
    “No, Joshua.”
    “You’re not the boss of me.”
    I suspected that Joseph had heard that before. “Just so,” he said, “please take Sarah back where you found her.”
    Joshua stormed out of the house, his snake following close behind. Joseph and I gave them a wide berth. “Try not to let anyone see you,” Joseph said. “They won’t understand.”
    He was right, of course. On our way out of the village we ran into a gang of older boys, led by Jakan, the son of Iban the Pharisee. They did not understand.

    There were perhaps a dozen Pharisees in Nazareth: learned men, working-class teachers, who spent much of their time at the synagogue debating the Law. They were often hired as judges and scribes, and this gave them great influence over the people of the village. So much influence, in fact, that the Romans often used them as mouthpieces to our people. With influence comes power, with power, abuse.