Lamb The Gospel According to Biff Christs Childho - By Christopher Moore Page 0,42

that's not true."

"Exactly."

Mary put her arm around her son's shoulders. "He has a point, Joshua."

Joshua wrinkled his brow as if he had to think about it, but I could tell that he was relieved that I wanted to go along. "When do you want to leave?"

"When did Maggie say she was getting married?"

"In a month."

"Before then. I don't want to be here when it happens."

"Me either," Joshua said.

And so we spent the next few weeks preparing for our journey. My father thought I was crazy, but my mother seemed happy to have the extra space in the house and pleased that the family wouldn't have to put up a bride price to marry me off right away.

"So you'll be gone how long?" Mother asked.

"I don't know. It's not a terribly long journey to Antioch, but I don't know how long we'll be there. Then we'll be traveling the Silk Road. I'm guessing that that's a long journey. I've never seen any silk growing around here."

"Well, take a wool tunic in case it gets cold."

And that was all I heard from my mother. Not "Why are you going?" Not "Who are you looking for?" Just "Take a wool tunic." Jeez. My father was more supportive.

"I can give you a little money to travel with, or we could buy you a donkey."

"I think the money would be better. A donkey couldn't carry both of us."

"And who are these fellows you're looking for?"

"Magicians, I think."

"And you want to talk to magicians because...?"

"Because Josh wants to know how to be the Messiah."

"Oh, right. And you believe that Joshua is the Messiah?"

"Yes, but more important than that, he's my friend. I can't let him go alone."

"And what if he's not the Messiah? What if you find these magicians and they tell you that Joshua is not what you think he is, that he's just a normal boy?"

"Well, he'll really need me to be there, then, won't he?"

My father laughed. "Yes, I guess he will. You come back, Levi, and bring your friend the Messiah with you. Now we'll have to set three empty places at the table on Passover. One for Elijah, one for my lost son, and one for his pal the Messiah."

"Well, don't seat Joshua next to Elijah. If those guys start talking religion we'll never have any peace."

It came down to only four days before Maggie's wedding before Joshua and I accepted that one of us would have to tell her we were leaving. After nearly a whole day of arguing, it fell upon me to go to her. I saw Joshua face down fears in himself that would have broken other men, but taking bad news to Maggie was one he couldn't overcome. I took the task on myself and tried to leave Joshua with his dignity.

"You wuss!"

"How can I tell her that it's too painful to watch her marry that toad?"

"First, you're insulting toads everywhere, and second, what makes you think it's any easier for me?"

"You're tougher than I am."

"Oh, don't try that. You can't just roll over and expect me to not notice that I'm being manipulated. She's going to cry. I hate it when she cries."

"I know," Josh said. "It hurts me too. Too much." Then he put his hand on my head and I suddenly felt better, stronger.

"Don't try your Son of God mumbo jumbo on me, you're still a wuss."

"If it be so, so be it. So it shall be written."

Well, it is now, Josh. It's written now. (It's strange, the word "wuss" is the same in my ancient Aramaic tongue as it is in this language. Like the word waited for me these two thousand years so I could write it down here. Strange.)

Maggie was washing clothes in the square with a bunch of other women. I caught her attention by jumping on the shoulders of my friend Bartholomew, who was gleefully exposing himself for the viewing pleasure of the Nazarene wives. With a subtle toss of my head I signaled to Maggie to meet me behind a nearby stand of date palms.

"Behind those trees?" Maggie shouted.

"Yeah," I replied.

"You bringing the idiot?"

"Nope."

"Okay," she said, and she handed her washing to one of her younger sisters and scampered to the trees.

I was surprised to see her smiling so close to the time of her wedding. She hugged me and I could feel the heat rise in my face, either from shame or love, like there was a difference.

"Well, you're in a good mood," I said.

"Why not?