“Are you Essenes?” John asked as he shared the evening meal with this man and the group of others he lived in the cave with.
“No,” he said. “But then some of us are. Yochanon joined the Essenes for a while, and when he left them some left with him and came here. And earlier, when he left Jerusalem, there were priests and priestly families who came here. And I have heard it said even his mother has come here. Many I tell you,” the man said, as he passed the hot flat bread to Magdalene, and she tore some off and passed it to John, “have come here, looking, wondering what the Baptist was up to, and many left in disgust or in ridicule, but some stayed.
“Since before the time of the Hasmoneans, the priestly lines have argued about which are true and which are illegitimate and with them many Jews, but there are priests of all lines. The Sadducees are the rich of the land and there was a time when they nailed the Pharisees to the walls of Jerusalem and there was open war between the two, but here Sadducee and Pharisee live in peace. Jew and Samaritan.”
In a cave not far off, a band of women in white were preparing their meal and the man looked on them and said, “Woman and Man.”
“All waiting for the New World,” John marveled.
“Aye,” said the man, whose name was Philip. “And in the waiting, the new world is made.”
“Stay with us,” said one of the other men to John, “You and your sister as well,” he nodded to Magdalene.
“For we have much space here.”
“We will remain in this place a little longer,” Philip said.
“And then?” Magdalene asked.
“When the Baptist moves, we will move with him,” Philip said.
“And the Baptist is always on the move.”
The journey through the mountains Oh, to wake in the morning free! To bend one’s head with others and praise God for the rising sun, the air in one’s breath and the life in one’s body, and then move onto start the breakfast for another day. Oh to make the morning meal and afterward wash the few dishes there were in the Jordan. To move about the various settlements of the camp, lending help where it was needing, caring for children and helping the other women and men with their washing or their sewing, their planting and shaping of pots and plates and jars, to come in the middle of the day and listen to the words of the Prophet and see those coming from Jerusalem or from the north, who half wanted a new world, but could not believe in it enough to make it. To, in the middle of the day, take one’s rest, not overburderend, not overtaxed for once, and sleep deep in the darkness, only to rise and take on the beauty of a world which had never seemed so beautiful before. Palmyra was a wonder, and so was Sidon, but neither was the birth of something new.
One night, as she was at the cookpot, she was startled to look up and see him, the Baptist. She might have lived a whole life here and been content never to see him again, but now he sat down across from her, and she said, “We have stew for you. Mutton. Have this bowl.”
“For me?” he said, and his sun darkened face, too rough for this world, smiled, revealing his broken teeth.
“You knew I would be coming?”
“You have come and I am honored,” Magdalene said.
“Are you at peace?”
“I am,” she said.
“I know you, Mary,” he said. “You think I remember you.”
Magdalene nodded.
“Magdalene they called you, Migdol, the Tower, for you were ever a mighty and strong one, where you not. I knew I had done well when I saw that you were at last here. Though I await another. And then that will be the end of things.”
Magdalene was about to ask, “Another?”
But the Baptist continued, speaking to himself more than her, certainly.
“Another… And then that will be the end of things. Whether I wish it or no.”
In the black night, the fire played orange and yellow on the lines of his face and he said, “There is a thing on your mind Mary the Magdalene.”
“Brother,” she said. “I have the feeling that once one is here, one must not turn back, and yet I have not bid my family peace, and they are only in the next town.”
“Sister,” Yochanon said, “there are no bindings here. You are as free to come and go as a child in her mother’s house. Only take care, once you have found the noble path to not veer from it.”
Magdalene nodded.
“I shall go to my brother and my sister. And return. If they let me.”
Yochanon placed two long burning fingers over her heart and murmured a prayer before lifting his burning eyes to her and saying, “It would better if you brought them. Brought her. Whether they let you or no: return.”
As you have surely seen, I have been trying to raise necessary aid for some time now at https://gofund.me/a9be72fc, and looking toward the goodwill and gratitude of the readers I have entertained for years. So far the grand total of all of that goodwill has led to 0. As in, everyone who had enjoyed my stories for years considered that their value and the value of the writer was worth, well, nothing. Therefore, this current run of stories will be the last posted here, and as of January 1st, I will begin moving my catalogue to other venues. Thank you for the last few years. They were a great deal of fun. C.L.G.
