Lamb The Gospel According to Biff Christs Childho - By Christopher Moore Page 0,16

Nazareth. Bleh.

I found Joshua at the synagogue, listening to the Pharisees lecture on the Law. I stepped through the group of boys sitting on the floor and whispered to him.

"Bartholomew says that he knows you are the Messiah."

"The idiot? Did you ask him how long he's known?"

"He says the village dogs told him."

"I never thought to ask the dogs."

"He says that we should live simply, like dogs, carry nothing, no affectations - whatever that means."

"Bartholomew said that? Sounds like an Essene. He's much smarter than he looks."

"He's trying to learn to lick his own balls."

"I'm sure there's something in the Law that forbids that. I'll ask the rabbi."

"I'm not sure you want to bring that up to the Pharisee."

"Did you tell your father about the angel?"

"No."

"Good. I've spoken to Joseph, he's going to let me learn to be a stonecutter with you. I don't want your father to change his mind about teaching me. I think the angel would frighten him." Joshua looked at me for the first time, turning from the Pharisee, who droned on in Hebrew. "Have you been crying?"

"Me? No, Bart's stench made my eyes water."

Joshua put his hand on my forehead and all the sadness and trepidation seemed to drain out of me in an instant. He smiled. "Better?"

"I'm jealous of you and Maggie."

"That can't be good for your neck."

"What?"

"Trying to lick your own balls. It's got to be hard on your neck."

"Did you hear me? I'm jealous of you and Maggie."

"I'm still learning, Biff. There are things I don't understand yet. The Lord said, 'I am a jealous God.' So jealousy should be a good thing."

"But it makes me feel so bad."

"You see the puzzle, then? Jealousy makes you feel bad, but God is jealous, so it must be good, yet when a dog licks its balls it seems to enjoy it, but it must be bad under the Law."

Suddenly Joshua was yanked to his feet by the ear. The Pharisee glared at him. "Is the Law of Moses too boring for you, Joshua bar Joseph?"

"I have a question, Rabbi," Joshua said.

"Oh, jeez." I hid my head in my arms.
Chapter 4
Chapter 4

Yet another reason that I loathe the heavenly scum with whom I share this room: today I found that I had offended our intrepid room service waiter, Jesus. How was I to know? When he brought our pizza for dinner, I gave him one of the American silver coins that we received from the airport sweet shop called Cinnabon. He scoffed at me - scoffed - then, thinking better of it, he said, "Señor, I know you are foreign, so you do not know, but this is a very insulting tip. Better you just sign the room service slip so I get the fee that is added automatically. I tell you this because you have been very kind, and I know you do not mean to offend, but another of the waiters would spit in your food if you should offer him this."

I glared at the angel, who, as usual, was lying on the bed watching television, and for the first time I realized that he did not understand Jesus' language. He did not possess the gift of tongues he had bestowed on me. He spoke Aramaic to me, and he seemed to know Hebrew and enough English to understand television, but of Spanish he understood not a word. I apologized to Jesus and sent him on his way with a promise that I would make it up to him, then I wheeled on the angel.

"You fool, these coins, these dimes, are nearly worthless in this country."

"What do you mean, they look like the silver dinars we dug up in Jerusalem, they are worth a fortune."

He was right, in a way. After he called me up from the dead I led him to a cemetery in the valley of Ben Hiddon, and there, hidden behind a stone where Judas had put it two thousand years ago, was the blood money - thirty silver dinars. But for a little tarnish, they looked just as they did on the day I had taken them, and they were almost identical to the coin this country calls the dime (except for the image of Tiberius on the dinars, and some other Caesar on the dime). We had taken the dinars to an antiquities dealer in the old city (which looked nearly the same as it did when I'd last walked there, except that the Temple was gone and