Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 9

Part IIChangeJesus was a good guy, he didnt collect this shit.JOHN PRINEChapter 9I should have had a plan before I act to escape from the hotel room, I pull in that now. At the time, dashing reveal the entre and into the arms of sweet freedom seemed like plan enough. I got as far as the lobby. It is a fine lobby, as grand as some(prenominal) palace, only if in the way of freedom, I need more. I noticed before Raziel dragged me back into the elevator, nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process, that there were an un adeptified number of old people in the lobby. In fact, compared to my time, there are inordinate numbers of old people eerywhere well, not on TV, hardly anywhere else. Have you people forgotten how to die? Or have you used up all of the young people on television so theres nothing left but gray copper and wrinkled flesh? In my time, if you had seen forty summers it was time to start thinking ab out moving on, make room for the youngsters. If you lasted to fifty the mourners would elapse you dirty looks when they passed, as if you were purposely giveing to put them out of business. The Torah says that Moses lived to be 120 years old. Im guessing that the children of Israel were following him sound to see when he would drop. There was probably betting.If I do manage to escape the angel, Im not press release to be able to make my living as a professional mourner, not if you people dont have the courtesy to die. Just as well, I suppose, Id have to learn all new dirges. Ive tried to delineate the angel to watch MTV so I tidy sum learn the vocabulary of your music, but even with the gift of tongues, Im having trouble learning to speak hip-hop. Why is it that unmatchable usher out busta rhyme or busta move anywhere but you must busta cap in someones ass? Is ho always feminine, and muthafucka always masculine, while rush can be either? How many peeps in a posse, how untold booty before baby got back, do you have to be all that to jump all up in that, and do I need to be dope and phat to be da bomb or can I just be stupid? Ill not be singing over any dead m otherwises until I understand.The journey. The quest. The search for the Magi.We traveled first to the coast. Neither Joshua nor I had ever seen the sea before, so as we topped a hill near the city of Ptolomais, and the endless aquamarine of the Mediterranean stretched before us, Joshua fell to his knees and gave thanks to his novice.You can almost see the rim of the world, Joshua express.I squinted into the dazzling sun, really looking for the edge of the world. It looks sort of curved, I said.What? Joshua scanned the horizon, but evidently he didnt see the curve.The edge of the world looks curved. I think its round.Whats round?The world. I think its round.Of course its round, like a plate. If you go to the edge you fall off. Every sailor knows that, Joshua said with great authority. nary(prenominal) round like a plate, round like a ball.Dont be silly , Joshua said. If the world was round like a ball accordingly we would slide off of it.Not if its sticky, I said.Joshua lifted his foot and looked at the bottom of his sandal, then at me, then at the ground. Sticky?I looked at the bottom of my own shoe, hoping to perhaps see strands of stickiness there, like melted cheese tethering me to the ground. When your best friend is the son of God, you get tired of losing every argument. Just because you cant see it, doesnt mean the world is not sticky.Joshua rolled his eyes. Lets go swimming. He took off strike down the hill.What about the God? I asked. You cant see him.Joshua stopped halfway down the hill and held his arms out to the shining, aquamarine sea. You cant?Thats a crappy argument, Josh. I followed him down the hill, shouting as I went. If youre not going to try, Im not going to argue with you anymore. So, what if stickiness is like God? You know, how He abandons our people and leads them into slavery whenever we stop believing in Him. Stickiness could be like that. You could float off into the sky any time now because you dont believe in stickiness.Its good that you have something to believe in, Biff. Im going in the water. He ran down the beach, shedding his clothes as he went, then dove into the surf, naked.Later, subsequently wed both swallowed enough salt water to make us sick, we headed up the coast to the city of Ptolemais.I didnt think it would be so salty, Joshua said.Yeah, I said, youd never know it by looking at it.Are you still angry about your round-earth-stickiness theory?I dont expect you to understand, I said, sounding very mature, I thought. You being a virgin and all.Joshua stopped and grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to wheel around and face him. The night you spent with Maggie I spent praying to my father to take away the thoughts of you two. He didnt answer me. It was like trying to sleep on a bed of thorns. Since we left I was beginning to forget, or at least leave it behind, but you keep throwing it in my face.Youre overcompensate, I said. I forgot how sensitive you virgins can be.Then, at one time again, and not for the last time, the Prince of Peace coldcocked me. A bony, stonecutters clenched fist just over my right eye. He hit harder than I remembered. I remember white seabirds in the sky above me, and just a wisp of clouds crossways the sky. I remember the frothy surf sloshing over my face, leaving sand in my ears. I remember thinking that I should get up and castigate Josh upside the head. I remember thinking then that if I got up, Josh might hit me again, so I lay there for a moment, just thinking.So, what do you wishing? I said, finally, from my wet and sandy supinity.He stood over me with his fists balled. If youre going to keep bringing it up, you have to tell me the details.I can do that.And dont leave anything out.Nothing?Ive got to know if Im going to understand sin.Okay, can I get up? My ears are filling with sand.He helped me to my feet and as we entered the seaside city of Ptolomais, I taught Josh about sex.Down narrow stone streets between high stone walls.Well, most of what we learned from the rabbis was not exactly accurate.past times men sitting outside their houses, mending their nets. Children selling cups of pomegranate juice, women hanging strings of fish from window to window to dry.For instance, you know that part right after Lots wife gets turned to stone and then his daughters get drunk and fornicate with him?Right, after Sodom and Gomorrah are destroyed.Well, thats not as bad as it sounds, I said.We passed Phoenician women who sang as they pounded dried fish into meal. We passed evaporation pools where children scraped the encrusted salt from the rocks and put it into bags. scarcely fornication is a sin, and fornication with your daughters, well, thats a, I dont know, thats a double-dog sin.Yeah, but if you put that aside for a second, and you just focus on the two young girls aspect of it, its not near ly as bad as it sounds initially.Oh.We passed merchants selling fruit and bread and oil, spices and incense, calling out claims of quality and magic in their wares. There was a lot of magic for sale in those days.And the Song of Solomon, thats a lot closer, and you can sort of understand Solomon having a thousand wives. In fact, with you being the Son of God and all, I dont think youd have any business getting that many girls. I mean, after you figure out what youre doing.And a lot of girls is a good thing?Youre a ninny, arent you?I thought youd be more specific. What does Maggie have to do with Lot and Solomon?I cant tell you about me and Maggie, Josh. I just cant.We were passing a lick of prostitutes gathered outside the door of an inn. Their faces were painted, their skirts slit up the side to show their legs glistening with oil, and they called to us in foreign languages and made tiny dances with their hands as we passed.What the hell are they motto? I asked Joshua. He was im prove with languages. I think they were speaking Hellenic.They said something about how they like Hebrew boys because we can feel a womans tongue better without our foreskins. He looked at me as if I might confirm or deny this.How much money do we have? I asked.The inn rented rooms, stable, and lay under the eave to sleep. We rented two adjacent stalls, which was a bit of a luxury for us, but an important one for Joshuas education. After all, werent we on this journey so he could learn to take his rightful place as the Messiah?Im not sure if I should watch, Joshua said. Remember David was running over the roofs and happened onto Bathsheba in her bath. That set a whole chain of sin in motion.But listening wont be a problem.I dont think its the same thing.Are you sure that you dont want to try this yourself, Josh? I mean, the angel was never clear about your being with a woman. To be honest, I was a little frightened myself. My experience with Maggie simply qualified me to be with a prostitute.No, you go ahead. Just describe whats happening and what youre feeling. I have to understand sin.Okay, if you insist.Thank you for doing this for me, Biff.Not just for you, Josh, for our people.So thats how we terminate up with the two stalls. Josh would be in one while I, along with the harlot of my choice, instructed him from the other in the fine art of fornication.Back out at the front of the inn I shopped for my teaching assistant. It was an eight-harlot inn, if thats how you measure an inn. (I understand that now they measure inns in stars. We are in a four-star inn right now. I dont know what the conversion from harlots to stars is.) Anyway, there were eight harlots outside the inn that day. They ranged in age from only a few years older than us to older than our mothers. And they ran the gamut of shapes and sizes, having in common only that they were all highly painted and well oiled.Theyre all soso nasty-looking.Theyre harlots, Biff. Theyre supposed to be nas ty-looking. Pick one.Lets go look at some different harlots. We had been standing a few doors down from the harlots, but they knew we were watching. I walked over and stopped close to a specially tall harlot and said, Excuse me, do you know where we might find a different selection of harlots? No offense, its just that my friend and IAnd she pulled give way her blouse, exposing full breasts that were glistening with oil and flecks of mica, and she threw her skirt aside and stepped up so a long leg slid behind me and I could feel the rough hair between her legs grinding against my hip and her rouged nipples brushed my cheek and in that instant profound wood did from my person protrude.This one will be fine, Josh.The other harlots let loose with an exaltation of ululation as we led my harlot away. (You know ululation as the sound an ambulance makes. That I get an erection every time one passes the hotel would seem morbid if you didnt know this story of how Biff Hires a Harlot.) The harlots name was Set. She was a head and a half taller than me, with skin the twist of a ripe date, wide brown eyes flecked with gold, and hair so black that it reflected blue in the dim light of the stable. She was the perfect harlot design, wide where a harlot should be wide, narrow where a harlot should be narrow, delicate of ankle and neck, sturdy of conscience, intrepid and single-minded of goal once she was paid. She was an Egyptian, but she had learned Greek and a little Latin to help lubricate the discourse of her trade. Our situation required more creativity than she seemed accustomed to, but after a heavy sigh she mumbled something about if you fuck a Hebrew, make room in the bed for his guilt, then pulled me into my stall and closed the gate. (Yes, the stalls were used for animals. There was a donkey in the stall opposite Joshs.)So whats she doing? Josh asked.Shes taking off my clothes.What now.Shes taking off her clothes. Oh jeez. Ouch.What? Are you fornicating?No. Shes rubbing her whole body over mine, sort of lightly. When I try to move she smacks me in the face.How does it feel?How do you think? It feels like someone sapidity you, you twit.I mean how does her body feel? Do you feel sinful? Is it like Satan rubbing against you? Does it burn like fire?Yeah, you got it. That pretty much has it.Youre lying.Oh wow.Then Josh said something in Greek that I didnt catch all of and the harlot answered, sort of.What did she say? Josh asked.I dont know, you know my Greek is bad.Mine isnt, I couldnt understand what she said.Her mouth is full.Set elevated up. Not full, she said in Greek.Hey, I understood thatShe has you in her mouth?Yeah.Thats heinous.It doesnt feel heinous.It doesnt?No, Josh, I gotta tell you, this really is oh my GodWhat? Whats happening?Shes getting dressed.Are you done sinning? Thats it?The harlot said something in Greek that I didnt understand.What did she say? I asked.She said that for the amount of money we gave her, youre finished .Do you think you understand fornication now?Not really.Well then, give her some more money, Joshua. Were going to persevere here until you learn what you need to know.Youre a good friend to suffer this for me.Dont mention it.No, really, Joshua said. Greater love hath no man, than he lay down for his friend.Thats a good one, Josh. You should remember that one for later.The harlot then spoke at length. You want to know what this is like for me, kid? This is like a job. Which means that if you want it done, you need to pay for it. Thats what its like. (Joshua would translate for me later.)Whatd she say? I asked.She wants the wages of sin.Which are?In this case, three scraping.Thats a bargain. Pay her.Much as I tried and I did try I didnt seem able to convey to Joshua what it was he wanted to know. I went through a half-dozen more harlots and a large parting of our traveling money over the next week, but he still didnt understand. I suggested that perhaps this was one of the thin gs that the magician Balthasar was supposed to teach Joshua. Truth be told, Id developed a burning sensation when I peed and I was ready for a break from tutoring my friend in the fine art of sinning.Its a week or less by sea if we go to Selucia, then its less than a days walk inland to Antioch, Joshua said, after he had been talking to some sailors who were imbibition at the inn. Overland its two to three weeks.By sea, then, I said. Pretty brave, I thought, considering Id never set foot in a boat in my life.We found a wide-beamed, raised-stern Roman cargo ship bound for Tarsus that would stop at all the ports along the way, including Selucia. The ships master was a wiry, hatchet-faced Phoenician named Titus Inventius, who claimed to have asleep(p) to sea when he was four and sailed to the edge of the world twice before his balls dropped, although what one had to do with the other I never figured out.What can you do? Whats your trade? Titus asked, from under a great straw hat he w ore while watching the slaves load jars of wine and oil onto the ship. His eyes were black beads set back in caves of wrinkles formed by a lifetime of squinting into the sun.Well, Im a stonemason and hes the Son of God. I grinned. I thought that would give us more diversity than just saying we were two stonemasons.Titus pushed the straw hat back on his head and looked Joshua up and down. Son of God, huh? Hows that pay?Joshua scowled at me. I know stone work and carpentry, and we both have strong backs.Theres not a lot of call for stone work aboard a ship. Have you been to sea before?Yes, I said.No, Joshua said.He was sick that day, I said. Ive been to sea.Titus laughed. Fine, you go help get those jars on board. Im taking a load of pigs as far as Sidon, you two keep them calm and keep them alive in the heat and by that time maybe youll be something of use to me. But it costs you as well.How much? Joshua asked.How much do you have?Five shekels, I said.Twenty shekels, Joshua said.I el bowed the Messiah in the ribs hard enough to bender him over. Ten shekels, I said. Five each, I meant before when I said five. I felt as if I was negotiating with myself, and not doing that well.Then ten shekels plus any work I can find for you. But if you puke on my ship, youre over the side, you hear me? Ten shekels or not.Absolutely, I said, pulling Joshua down the dock to where the slaves were loading jars.When we were out of earshot of Captain Titus, Joshua said, You have to tell him that were Jews, we cant tend pigs.I grabbed one of the huge wine jars by the ears and started to drag it toward the ship. Its okay, theyre Roman pigs. They dont care.Oh, all right, Joshua said, latching onto a jar of his own and hoisting it onto his back. Then it hit him and he set the jar down again. Hey, wait, thats not right.The next sunup we sailed with the tide. Joshua, me, a crew of thirty, Titus, and fifty allegedly Roman pigs.Until we cast off from the dock Josh and I manning one of the long oars and we were well out of the make until we had shipped the oars and the great square sail was ballooned over the deck like the belly of a gluttonous genie until Joshua and I climbed to the rear of the ship where Titus stood on the raised deck manning one of the two long steering oars and I looked back toward land, and could see not a city but a speck on the horizon until then, I had no idea that I had a deep-seated fear of sailing.We are way too far away from land, I said. modality too far. You really need to steer closer to the land, Titus. I pointed to land, in case Titus was unsure as to which way he should go.It makes sense, dont you think? I mean, I grew up in an arid country, inland, where even the rivers are little more than damp ditches. My people come from the desert. The one time we actually had to cross a sea, we walked. Sailing seemed, well, unnatural.If the Lord had meant us to sail we would have been born with, uh, masts, I said.Thats the dumbest thing youv e ever said, said Joshua.Can you swim? asked Titus.No, I said.Yes he can, Joshua said.Titus grabbed me by the back of the neck and threw me over the stern of the ship.