That night, after scourging the temple, I dreamed of home: I was working at the carpenter’s bench, making a three-legged stool. I finished smoothing the legs and sat on the floor, Whitey beside me. She was playing with a heap of shavings.

Again I had that illusion that time was mine, that the sunshine and flies and smell of olive oil and earth would never leave me. And I thought, as I worked on the stool, how pleased Mother would be when I finished it for her birthday. I glanced at a mark on the wall and wondered if I had grown taller.

ÿ

Galilee

A storm. The lake. Two fishermen drowned. Tents blown over. Next day as I bury the dead a little girl comes and throws herself at my feet, a flower clutched in her hand. What does death mean to her?

ÿ

Heshvan 11

Wearing dirty work clothes I was readily admitted into the prison at Machaerus, a citadel high above the countryside. Guards shrugged as I entered. A door clanged with a terrible crash: I was in John’s cell. Kissing me, hugging me, we embraced: as always I felt he was part of me.

“How are you, cousin? I thought we would never get to see each other again...in all those rags they didn’t know you. You chose a good time; there has been an ugly quarrel going on...we have new guards. Here, here, sit by me.”

John has been imprisoned five months and is chained to the wall, a loop around one leg, letting him move a few feet. Rattling the chain, he nodded and grinned at me. I did not understand what he whispered. When he was certain we were alone he grasped his chain and forced it open, first one link and then an­other. Though he had been a wrestler and farmer I was amazed. Free, he clasped me in his arms.