those stories he told about not being fit for the kingdom if you turned and looked back over your shoulder, if you so much as went to say goodbye to your family, well, did he ever think what it was like for the people who were left? Or were they just not worthy of the kingdom, because they didn’t drop everything, too? Was I supposed to drop Peter’s mother, leave her to fend for herself, abandon the baby, the animals, the vineyard, the trees, all the things I tend to. What did he say about that?”
I wracked my brain. Jesus had always done the leaving. What did he know about being left? He had repudiated his own family, claiming as kin those who did the will of his father in heaven. In one of his rants he had gone on about bringing not peace but a sword that would set brother against brother, mother against daughter. Really, if you delve into the gospels, there is no mention of “family values.” None. They don’t call Christian theology apologetics for nothing.
“Oh, Mary,” she said before I could answer. “I’m so sorry. Listen to me going on and on. And here you are about to have a baby—and he’s, he’s…”
“Not here,” I finished. “Not so as you’d notice.”
“He left us all,” Priscilla said, sadly. “It’s so confusing. Peter came home after Jesus was, well, killed. He was a broken man, broken to pieces. But he went back out on the boat, and I told myself, he’ll heal. He has me, Gabriel, the boat. Then came that strange time that was like a dream. Was it a dream, Mary? When Jesus was with us again, and we all ate and laughed and danced for days and days. Did it really happen?”
She leaned against me now, and I held her, comforting her.
“It did happen, Priscilla.”
“And then you all traipsed back to Jerusalem. I was so angry, Mary, angry with you, too, going off with them, free as a man. Well, never mind. I don’t pretend to understand anything.” She drew herself apart again. “I don’t know what to think. Now Peter claims that Jesus is coming again, and we must prepare the way. After all this time, of following Jesus wherever he went and leaving me on my own, Peter wants me to come to Jerusalem, bring Gabriel with me, join the ecclesia.”
“And will you?” I asked.
She was silent for a time.
“Mary, do you think that is what he wants? Is he calling me? Peter says he is. If I don’t go, am I denying him, failing him?”
“Oh, Priscilla.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good person to ask. Haven’t you heard? I mean did Peter send word to you….”
“That you ran away without telling anyone where you were going? Yes, of course he did. That’s the reason I didn’t come see you sooner.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I didn’t want to have to tell him that I definitely knew you were here. Don’t you see? I figured you must have had your reasons for disappearing.”
I just nodded, not wanting to tell her I had bolted because her husband was striking people dead.
“Yet you’re here now,” I said after a moment of increasingly awkward silence. I was touched yet puzzled by Priscilla’s attempt to protect me. Surely the apostles knew by now where I’d gone, whatever Priscilla said or didn’t say.
“Yes, I’m here now,” she said slowly. “Peter asked me to come. No, he told me to. Peter and Jesus’s brother James and some of the others arrived in Capernaum last night. I’m sorry. I should have said so at once, but I, I just wanted to talk to you first, for myself.”
“So.” I placed a hand on my full-term belly. “They can count. Who knew?”
“Mary, this is serious.” She frowned at my joke, which I admit was a bit tactless.
“If they have something to say to me, why didn’t they come themselves? Not that I’m not happy to see you, Priscilla.”
“You know why.”
Of course I knew, but all at once I was angry.
“Jesus was healed at Temple Magdalen when no one else would touch him. And his mother prefers living here to—”
“So Miriam is with you. They’ve all been worried sick about her.”
“I’m not sure I believe that,” I retorted. “She’s been missing three months. If they were so worried about her, why didn’t they send someone here a long time ago?”
“Don’t ask me,” Priscilla said, irritably. “I’m not privy to their counsels. I’m just a messenger. By the way, they told me, if I found her, to bring her back to Capernaum.”
“Good luck,” I snorted. “Tell me the rest, Priscilla. You’re not just here to retrieve Miriam.”
“They want the baby.”
“I already know that, Priscilla, and I believe I’ve made my answer clear.”
We sat for a moment, listening to the sound of the spring welling up and trickling down to the Gennesaret, quietly, calmly, sure of its course, its purpose.
“I haven’t offered you food and drink,” I changed the subject. “When Judith finds out, she’ll be appalled.” I started to roll over unto all fours, so I could get up.
“Don’t, Mary. Let me finish first. It’s so hard to say it.”
“You’re just the messenger,” I said lightly as I could. “Go on.”
“They say there’s danger to the child’s life. You must consider his safety.”
His safety. For men, every child presumed male until proven guilty of being female.
“They’ve hired a wet nurse and they’ve found a safe, remote place for the child to be raised.”
“I’ve heard that argument before, too.” I made my voice sound calm, though I was starting to shake. “I don’t buy it. I don’t see why they’d be any better able to protect the child than me. I have powerful friends—”
“They said you’d say that, and if you did….”
She stopped and looked away from me.
“Spit it out.”
“They asked you to consider what Jesus would want for his son. They ask you to put aside your own selfish desires for the child’s sake, for Jesus’s sake.”
For Jesus’s sake. At the invocation of his name, I felt a tremor that seemed to come right up out of the earth into my body, squeezing me so I lost my breath. And then it passed, and the earth was quiet again.
“Is there any message you want me to take back, Mary?”
Be wily as a serpent, I heard my beloved say, gentle as a dove, my dove.
“Tell them I will pray about the matter.”
And the earth shook again, and
