Á Deux

10

- Have any new ideas surfaced?

- Just one. All my laments are bullshit. I am ashamed of piling upon myself responsibility for the billions… Of mumbling on behalf of people to whom I cannot hold a candle… Of judging serious scientists and pure-spirited gurus… You should not waste your time on my grumblings. I do not feel like living, so I look for a scapegoat. And it is a lie I agree to something. But I have no guts to spill it out for you. I do not agree. My only excuse is that I am not the only one who gets so screwed up. But I disgrace myself even there. Because no one whined, they just vanished. And I am incapable of that either. So, a total meltdown. Why don’t you leave? I will manage somehow by myself…

- In a minute. But could you, as for a light penance, hear out a stranger’s narrative? Afford a bit of latitude to my amateur try? I would very much like to express my gratitude for your story.

- Right. Go straight to Patmos revelation. 6

-Oh no, only an envious wish to take a crack at composing. It takes place in the past, no prophecies.

- I am all ears.

- A shiver, uncontrollable shakes sprang at the man right at awakening. The reason was unknown. He did his best to hide it from others but sometimes failed. They politely pretended not to notice, and probably took these convulsions as a sign of a special, exalted state.

Only at midday on the road to the city, he realized that the chills spelled an approaching end; the notion that the outcome has come near, and his hours were numbered.

He knew it would not end well. The evidence came not from quarrels at the church, not even rumors leaking from the high priesthood. A couple of years ago he caught a stare of one of temple guard’s top officer. It was a cold, quiet gaze, a close blaze of lighting which did not follow by a thunder. But thunder was to be deafening; it has just been delayed for the time being. Since then the clarity of an impression dissolved. These eyes sometimes surfaced in the memory if only as a reminder of something inevitable.

Now his inner vision has been attacked by literal images of steel spikes driven into his palms, so the shiver has been turning to instinctive repulsions. He could barely hold the scream. He pushed these phantoms away as promptly as they came. It helped to look around, to catch as many details as possible. Although, what he yearned for was to concentrate, pull all his strength and spend these last hours in thoughts. But in his mind, he met excruciating pain.

However, he succeeded in bringing together the hallmarks of his life and looked at them from the side. The score was not very comforting. And there was no time to amend it.

What would those who were close to him save in memory, when he is no more; the following day? Is it possible to put it together into simple words that would be easy to keep in heart and mind; that would define their behavior in any circumstances for the rest of their lives? Will they be able to pass such words to others?

He needed no words. The overwhelming joy of feeling on his shoulder the hand of the one whom he called Father, has not required words. The only gesture with which he dared to confirm this unbreakable tie was turning and tilting his head as if he intended to kiss this hand.

He saw as men and women, considering themselves his disciples, gradually absorbed his fervor. Their patient and attentive eyes confirmed it; their want to touch him; selfless provenance; readiness to leave their homes and follow him on his roads. In their silent anticipation he discerned questions, and only by answering, could pass to them his ideas of the world which was, or promised to be unimaginably beautiful…

However, he saw something else. Along with a plain, needy life of his people he loved so much and would not trade in for the luxury of temples and palaces, the advanced life of other more powerful nations continued, enriched by prosperity and convenience. It seemed obvious that humanity destined to move in that direction, and so his folks would do same. He struggled with the thought that until they exhaust all means to improve their existence, the Father’s hand might not touch their shoulders.

But then, it was beyond his compass; he left such contemplation to the providence. His task was to educate his devotees in that which has been revealed to him.

He offered these dear people humility, forgiveness, self-forgetfulness and austerity toward themselves. It surprised him how they accepted these useless, as they undoubtedly assessed things albeit not without groaning and resistance. He realized that it was not a matter of his artfulness in embodying these ephemeral things in words, but of the force that he emanated; of the constant presence of this heavenly power in his life. Thus, the reaffirmed confidence came that his doctrine – if someone can call it that – was inseparable from his fate. So, when this fate has met a threat, that threat entered the doctrine itself as its inherent part. There was nothing more to explain.

He did not known when and where the inevitable would come but perceived that supper with close ones was still granted, and that it will be the last one.

He was not hungry. It was enough to watch these decent people. He contemplated how to help them save the memory of him and of all that he has imparted to them. What to leave them with, simple but tangible that would constantly remind them of their short joint travel? But what can be simpler and more palpable than bread which they have been chewing at the time not thinking either of the teacher or bread itself? And for it not to be the only memento that could be missed in daily rounds, let there be equally simple, regularly present in their lives wine. It would be enough, as one can multiply tokens to infinity, but if two cannot work, neither can a dozen.

They were noticeably agitated. But their excitement had nothing to do with his unease. The master’s unusual state has been observed, and they interpreted it in their habitual way – practical as well as fanciful. They envisioned his finally reached decision to combine the new church’s spiritual power with one of numerous ready-to-rebel movements; imminent victorious war with scribes and Pharisees; and fervently expected Kingdom of Good. After all, something similar had already happened when they adopted Baptist’s boisterous followers after his death.

It should be voiced straightforwardly. He understood that the image which he had chosen for his wish might scare them, but the term of caution has passed.

“You agreed, my brothers,” said he to the quieted at once audience, “that aside from plain rules there is the truth that one can express only in allegories.”

“It is so, Master,” several voices have confirmed.

“Here is another one. What you are eating now,” he took a flatbread from the table, broke it in halves and gave them to the seated on the right and left of him, “my body…” And cutting short a growing murmur of daze, he continued, “And what you are drinking from caps in front of you is my blood.”

Some kept exchanging glances, daring not to demand an explanation; others were nodding thoughtfully. One stayed motionless and numb. He could not take his eyes off the teacher; tears were running down his cheeks, almost invisible in the dim glow of lamps.

The man has beckoned the upset disciple and settled him at his side.

“Do not be sad.”

The disciple dropped his head.

“If I am silent the lost ones would not have shame. Now they cannot find an excuse for their sins and come to hate me. Their hate is futile; they are just postponing repentance. But would it be better for them to remain ignorant as if I do not exist – which is the same as staying speechless?”

“I love you being silent as much as eloquent. Losing you be the same as dying.”

“You will die. But not before you spread this love as generously as you can. You see… not everything dies. I will not leave you unless you give in to your grief completely. I love you too, and this emotion is one of exactly those that do not die. I know what I am saying.”

The disciple was nodding in silence, trying in vain to comprehend the words. He did not doubt their truth, but their sting kept tearing his heart out.

“I would need your help in another matter. We will have time to talk.”

Out there at the fringe of his attention, some movements have been commencing that would drag him to oblivion. The man has not seen clearly what they were, but it was too late and tedious to scrutinize.

He has discharged his duty here in life and felt an unexpected relief although a shiver has not let go.

They were to spend the night as it often happened, outside the town in the olive grove.

Sleep overcame most as soon as they laid under silvery leaves shining from the moonlight. Only one was waiting for the talk to continue. Unwilling to disturb asleep ones, even grateful to them for freeing him from their attention, the man has walked out to an open clearing nearby and sat on a round rock. His companion remained standing.

A tight knot of his gift and an imminent demise was distinct. Unknown remained the meaning of both gift and demise for the continued reality that was about to gulp down all that together with the thrill of life, spasms of fear, the joy of the light and warm Father hand’s touch, and foresight of still erratic development of that reality for the terms immeasurable.

He recalled his behavior for the past few months and got terrified. They have coerced him eventually; forced him to voice something that was so far removed from the core of the matter. His words have been turning rigid and sharp until he uttered: “Woe unto you!” – And he did not even feel embarrassed at that moment. He also did not bother to oppose miracles that were ascribed to him – they begged him, asserted that it would help to spread the Word.

Perhaps it was a mistake. Rage.

“Have a sit. As a child, I liked very much reading old legends, especially one. There were terrible, inhuman events described. They horrified me, those supernatural images – and fire, fire, fire all around. It was not utterly believable that such things could exist. And then suddenly, a pure light of truth struck me, just from a simple detail. Listen:

When powerful fallen angels committed abhorrent deeds on earth and incurred God’s wrath, Heaven’s guardians called up a plain man, a scribe and ordered him to announce to villains the will of the Creator. Doomed spirits got scared, consumed by trepidation, and asked this man to write for them a memorial of supplication, that they might obtain forgiveness; and that he might make the memorial of their prayer ascend before the God of heaven; because they could not themselves thenceforwards address him, nor raise up their eyes to heaven on account of the disgraceful offense for which they were judged.

So, what do you know! This devoted servant of God composed a written plea for them describing their spirits, everything which they had done, and the subject of their entreaty that they might have remission and rest. He even agreed to submit this request to Heaven’s throne.

What a creature a man is, I realized! How much good and compassion he possesses! It should be right; one cannot make up such things, can he? It is not an all-consuming fire.

The request has not been granted. But what was the scribe to pass to the sorrow sinners? “Go; say to the Watchers of heaven, who have sent you to pray for them: You ought to pray for men, and not men for you.”

Lo-and-behold! Therefore the Lord was aware of the human heart’s generosity and selflessness.

Thus, the Supreme’s will was announced: “I have written your petition; and in my vision, it has been shown me, that what your requested will not be granted you as long as the world endures.”

But he has hushed up the doleful reproach, saving them form yet another pain – they would already suffer enormously.

What wonderful twists and turns! They were reaffirming my beliefs in man, and that is what the teaching was supposed to be about. Can you see it?”

“I am afraid to see… Not your beliefs; but I cannot wrap my head around the fact that such teaching might meet hatred and violence; that its preaching should also acquire rage and brute force to be successful…”

“It is hard to imagine indeed. I often get confused too. But it looks like we have not been entitled to any other way so far. And we still have to escort everyone into Father’s hands.”

“Oh, I hope so much The Lord would fix our ways! Right this moment. So that you were not to leave us…”

“I wish this shiver relives me… I do not want to die, my brother…”

“Beg your Father! Let us beg him together. It is unfathomable that it is him who commits such a woe.”

“No, not him; just crooked tracks of this world. And one should not ask him for such a thing as much as for any miracles. Everything would become too easy, so he would not need us. We have to stay faithful and do not fail his expectations. But it would be unbearable if I cannot count on you all. My deliverance depends on you; there is no one else I can rely on. I am so grateful for your strength… and your tears…”

Then, time has stopped and simultaneously rushed ahead. Out of short moments when his consciousness cleared up, he remembered the warmth of a human body of the one who came up to him, and whom he embraced tightly, realizing that he was the last man whom he were to embrace.

The world has turned noisy. He was shackled, lead to the house where the noise increased ever greatly. The man could hardly follow the meaning of events, just selected words: “Enticer”; “Encroachment”; “Demolition of the temple…”

He has never risen against the temple. But people inquired: “What with the Law and the Sabbath?” So he had to elaborate, and it came out of accord with the Law. Never mind…

And again: “Messiah”; “Anointed one”; The king…”

Impossible to explain…

He spent the night in a dungeon sleeping hazily with no dreams.

In the morning he has been taken to the procurator. Walking up the steps, he turned around and saw rising Sun, probably for the last time, and recalled that he had missed sunrise the day before.

And then there was the last talk to a human being. This official with clever, sharp eyes has been artfully hiding the disgust of his unfortunate job. His questions passed the man’s ears and needed no answers, although the man sensed certain rapport between them. “They still do not understand what they are doing,” he thought, “This procurator seems to be guessing, but it does not prevent him from acting by the book. How helpless are even the most powerful ones caught in the whirlwind! While it could be different: you are both a leaf and a wind that blows it along…” But the time for parables was up.

As an unexpected caress of approval, a light, warm hand descended slapping on his shoulder.

He foresaw a long upcoming gloom on the Earth and felt heartache, but also peace of having no commitment to live through it.

The trail to the hill was short, or maybe long – he stopped counting time. Then, he was offered a cup, a goodwill gesture of the high civilization: the death-hour drink, intended to ease the suffering. He refused. It was not too painful so far. He wished to live it out, not just to fade away.

There was almost no pain from nails that has tormented him so much in earlier phantoms. He watched curiously his powerless hands that he has not managed to put to good use.

…In place of the feeble twilight which we now call a day, a light, living and pure shall shine from on high… And men seeing each other in this light shall say: “We knew neither ourselves nor others; we knew not that which belongs unto man. Now we know…

A long time has passed unnoticed by him. His mind has been dimming. Then he has heard thunder. Events played out, and time dissolved beyond recall.

- …

- …

- Bravo…

- …

- Bravo, bravo. Myths fascinate you too.

- It might be a story from another universe.

- Ah! Not enough light there too. But you call your character ‘a man.’

- How would you prefer to call him? A man is a rare feature in your universe either.

- All right. I got it. We have evolved mightily. Crucifixion is not a threat to us anymore.

- They are still crucifying right and left. It is possible though to go without it… I do not want to force you, but since you have noticed a few things, I would like to relive you from superfluous impressions, so it would be easier make decisions.

- I need to have a smoke…