It was dark by the time I found my way back to the house. Most of the others were already there. It seemed as if we all had the same idea.
Mark and his mother had left blankets for us in the upper room, and even though the others wanted to talk about what had happened, I just wanted everything to go away.
Grabbing a blanket, I collapsed in a corner. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep, but it was morning the next thing I knew.
John and the women had arrived while I was sleeping. Abigail had given the ladies Mark’s room, and he had come upstairs to sleep with us.
When I came to, I wanted nothing more than to head home. Jesus was dead, and so was the dream. But we wouldn’t be going anywhere, it was the Sabbath, and our travel was limited. With all that had happened, this wasn’t time to be playing games with the rules, so we all settled in for the day.
Breakfast was served outside. Several of Abigail’s friends had dropped food off earlier, so there was plenty for everyone.
As we ate, we began to share what we had seen and heard the day before. Most of the group had no idea what had happened. When the temple guards arrested Jesus, they had scattered and made their way back here. Of course, they had heard the rumours concerning Jesus’ death, but none had seen what happened after the garden.
The Zealot told us that he had no idea that Judas had planned on betraying Jesus. He knew that his friend was frustrated, but he hadn’t mentioned his plans. Simon said he had sources inside Caiaphas’ home who heard that Iscariot had tried returning the money he’d been given, but the priest just laughed at him.
I mentioned that I had seen him while making my way through the streets toward Pilate’s house, and someone else said they heard that he had hung himself.
My first thought was good riddance, but then I realized that he was one of us as flawed as he was. That Jesus had chosen him. It was also sobering to realize that what he had done was only degrees worse than what I had done. And both of us had been warned, yet we still betrayed him and denied him. In the end, I figured that I’d have to leave Judas’ fate to God.
All we did that day was talk about Jesus and what we would do next. It was weird. There was crying, and then there would be laughter as someone mentioned something Jesus had done or said.
The images of men with beams in their eyes trying to remove splinters from their friend’s eye, blind men guiding blind men, and camels trying to squeeze their way through the eye of a needle was absurd, but Jesus used them so effectively to teach us.
“Hey kid, tell us your story.” Mark just glared at Thaddeus.
“Go ahead, or I will.”
“Fine,” Mark told us that he snuck out behind us after we left. Abigail shot him the mother look, but he continued.
He said that he was able to hide in the bushes in the garden and watched when Jesus was being arrested, but then one of the guards spotted him.
“But, apparently, you were able to get away?” I guessed that he already knew the answer by the sly grin on Thaddeus’ face.
Mark blushed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Talk about what? Mark, what happened?”
Mark turned away from his mother and looked at Thaddeus, “Thanks.”
“No problem, go ahead and tell the story.”
“Fine, but no laughing. I wanted to be with Jesus, so I followed him to the garden. I saw as they arrested him and how Peter hacked off the guy’s ear, and then Jesus put it back on.”
“You cut off someone’s ear?” This was from Mary Magdalene, “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t. I just wanted them to stop. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I swung my sword, and he must have stepped into it. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. And then Jesus put his ear back on. And nobody even blinked. It was crazy. Here they were, demanding proof that Jesus was whom he said he was. And he picks this guy’s ear off the ground, sticks it back on the side of the guy’s head, and nobody says a word. Not a single word! It was as if it had gone too far, and it wouldn’t have mattered what Jesus said or did. They had their minds made up.”
“Mark?” Abigail wasn’t going to let it go.
“Fine. They were leading Jesus away, and one of the guards must have heard me because he reached right into the bush and grabbed my tunic. It was the new one that you just gave me, the one you said I’d grow into. When I tried to run, I slipped right out of it, and I was able to get away.”
Abigail’s eyes got big, “What about your tunic?”
“Is that what you’re worried about, the tunic? I was naked! Outside. And you’re worried about the tunic?”
“Well, you’re here, so you must have gotten away, but I just made that tunic.”
It was Thaddeus who saved the day, “Don’t worry about the tunic. I saw everything. That didn’t come out right. I saw what happened, the guard dropped Mark’s tunic, and I was able to grab it and catch up with him. He wasn’t moving very fast. He was creeping from bush to bush.”
Mark glared at Thaddeus, “You said you wouldn’t tell.” He was obviously mortified.
“Oh kid, this was too good to keep to myself.”
Mark turned to the rest of us, “I said no laughing.”
But it was too late.