But as I was going (said Joseph) I looked up into the air, and I saw the clouds astonished, and the fowls of the air stopping in the midst of their flight   James, The Protevangelon, XIII

VII.  THE CRUELEST MAN IN JUDEA

---

        The third day after the trial, the morning after their flight over Surrender, Gabriel woke Joseph at midday and they ate dinner in silence, each reflecting quietly on the change in the other's face.

        Gabriel's face was re-formed in new, soft skin, pale as sun-blushed clouds. He seemed to Joseph almost as fair as a maiden or a child on the verge of manhood. Spun-gold wisps of silk, like the brocading on Mira's Temple veil, curled over his smooth brow and brushed the nape of his long neck. Joseph wondered how he could have mistaken the angel for anything else. Even in this androgynous approximation of humanity, Gabriel was a magnificent eagle, from the slender, slightly-hooked nose, to the wide-open intensity of his luminous eyes. Joseph should have known what he was. Every motion of his young friend--probably older than Judea--was lithe and raptorous at the same time. Even walking, he seemed to be flying. Even at rest, he seemed to be only hesitating before the dive, his bright eyes focused on the distant prey.

        Joseph's face was changed as well. Gabriel thought of the various descriptions concerning Moses' transformation: horns, disfigurement, bizarre rays of light. The obstreperous Sons of Aaron had claimed Moses wore a veil ever after, because he was so horrible to look upon. None of these versions were true, but they did demonstrate the difficulty in describing the physical reflection of transcendence.

Joseph was not as he had been before. Gabriel wondered if he would ever be recognized as the stone mason from Date Home. "Whatever happened to old Josh from Beit Ani?" they would say. "Hell of a fellow. Best rough mason in Surrender. Has not been round for years."

        Should he tell Joseph how different things were now? Should he just let that portion of the Truth find its own pace of revelation. Josh had been through a difficult time. Joseph would have new difficulties, chief among these being the death of Josh. He would need time to adjust. God knew, there was time enough now.

        What would Joseph think when the grey hairs shed and none grew back to replace them? What would he think the first time someone looked him in the eyes and shied away from him? Be not afraid, Joseph, Gabriel prayed. All the rest will depend on the courage you show in the next several days.

        But then, had Joseph not ridden a dragon through the night--at his own request? Was this act in itself not the equal of Mira's, or very nearly?

        Perhaps I am a magpie, thought Gabriel. But such a collection have I as God Himself might envy. What marvelous beings to make me cry for them and bleed for them and love them. Even as he stared at Joseph's imitation of Josh, Gabriel was aware of his own reciprocal emulation of flighty Gabe.

        They put away the bowls and Joseph's tattered robe in the now-empty stone trough and tidied themselves for the walk back to town.

        Joseph broke the silence as soon as they stepped onto the rough lane. "Why could we not just wait for the priests to come back for me. They might bring a donkey to ride." He thought a moment. "They would at least bring something to carry my body back, thinking I would be dead by the end of the three days."

        "Are you weary, Joseph?" Gabriel tried to decide whether wearing sandals was worth the chafing of their straps over his instep.
"No," Joseph replied. "But I am sure I will be."

        "No, you will not."

        "I am an old man, Gabe."

        "Not any more, Joseph."

        "Why do you keep calling me that, Gabe?" The Greek version of his name seemed pretentious and not a little ominous, though it sounded like a song on Gabe's lips.

        "Because you are different now. You said so yourself. You are delivered. New birth. New name, to remind you of your deliverance." Gabriel hoped Joseph would not ask him any more just now. He fixed his eyes far down the path and tried not to limp in the awkward sandals that flapped up against his heels like flogging leathers.

        Joseph's face relaxed into beautiful serenity. "That is not so," he said softly without a trace of accusation. He was not yet experienced in the Truth, but he was sensitive enough to recognize the lies.

        Gabriel stopped abruptly and hopped on one foot, prying his sandal off the other. "Damn!"

        Joseph turned and walked back to him. "They are your stones, angel, or at least the stones you dropped. You never minded them before." Joseph paused and fingered his mustache. Why was Gabe acting so strangely? "You never wore sandals before--God forbid, anything come between you and the Earth, you said. And you never cursed before in all the time I have known you."

        "Well, you needn't gloat, Joseph," Gabriel replaced the sandal.

        Joseph knelt and tied the straps properly this time, adjusting the other when he was done with the first. "What would I be gloating about, Friend?"

        "How human I have become," Gabriel said glumly and started off down the path.

        Joseph hurried to catch up with him. "I do not agree, Gabe. You are hardly human. Even if you were, why would I gloat? I am human."

        "Not any more," Gabriel murmured and lengthened his stride.

        "Are we going to run to 'Salem, Gabe?" Joseph trotted up beside him.

        Gabriel halted suddenly. Joseph would have run past him, but the angel caught his arm and pulled him back. "Wait," was all he said.

        Joseph waited. Nothing happened.

        Gabriel breathed in slowly and then exhaled. "We can go on now, but stay beside me, Joseph."

        "What the hell have I been trying to do, if not that?" Joseph let his anger wash by him. "I will stay by you if you will choose one gait and stick with it."

        "Oh, I have chosen The Gate, all right." Gabriel dropped Joseph's arm and started off again, a little slower this time.

        "You said I was not human, Gabe," Joseph picked up the conversation. "What did you mean by that?"

        "I wanted to tell you this gradually, Joseph," Gabriel answered.

        "Go on."

        "I do not want to shock you, Joseph."

"After last night, do you think anything could shock me?"

        Gabriel continued walking. He seemed to be arguing with himself, but he said nothing until they were a mile south of Bread Home, Beit Laham.

        "Joseph, do you know what soma is?"

        "Some magery myth, an elixir of immortality," Joseph looked up at the sky. A dark spot just ahead puzzled him.

        "Soma is made of cinnabar. Do you know what that is?"

        "It is a red rock which can be fired down to quicksilver, which is a poison." Joseph glanced to his left. He could see another black dot in the sky, and another just beyond the second. What could they be?

        "Cinnabar describes the color of the stone. Its original meaning is the name of the color, Joseph."

        "Blood-something," Joseph looked right. Three more dark patches pocked the sky like holes in the firmament. "Ox-blood. No. Dragon's Blood."

        "The blood of a dragon is the chief ingredient of soma, Joseph."

        "That's all very interesting, Gabe, but could you tell me what you think those are?" Joseph pointed towards the spots in the sky.

        Gabriel pointed directly overhead.

        "Oh, My God!" Joseph exclaimed. "That's a bird. It's just hanging in the sky! Dear Lord, they are all birds! What has happened?"

        "They are flying, Joseph. We are merely moving too fast to perceive their motion. I have taken you into The Gate so that we could travel to Jerusalem unhindered."

        Joseph's mouth slacked, "And you waste your time conjuring combs?"

Gabriel sighed sadly, "My time is unmeasured, Joseph. It cannot be wasted. I am immortal."

        Joseph considered this. "From your vantage, then, you are hanging as still as those birds, and we mortals are rushing by you, being born, dying, in a single blink of your bright eyes. Wait a moment--how could I have killed you if you are immortal?"

        "You could have killed me, Joseph. With the blade I gave you, you could have made me human."

        "There is more to being human than just dying, Gabe."
"Would you like never to die, Joseph?" Gabriel tried to make this sound rhetorical.

        "Of course I would! What a stupid question."

        "Immortality is more burdensome than you might imagine, Joseph. Most humans--though there have not been many--eventually end their own lives, when deprived of death."

        "Of course they do," Joseph replied. "But to know you may pick the day of your death and that it may be as far down time's path as you wish. What a blessing that would be! What wondrous things could be done if there were only time."

        Gabriel stopped walking and embraced Joseph, whispering, "Then let there be all the time you wish, Joseph."

        Joseph's eyes met his and measured Gabriel's face. "You gave me your blood to drink, that I might never die?"

        "You were dying, Joseph. There was no other way."

"You gave me immortality and you dared me to make you mortal, to make you dead," Joseph paused and his lids descended. "But we are both dead, you and I, Gabe and Josh. Perhaps we are walking outside of time in this 'gate' of yours, but we are also walking outside of life. What have we done to each other, Friend? Who are these two, this Gabriel and Joseph, which we have become?"

        "We are as we are," Gabriel said. "We will grow used to it in time."

        "Maybe so, Friend, but I think I am going to need every bit of that extra time you have given me."

        Gabriel laughed.

        And Joseph laughed.

        And like smug children they sauntered into Beit Laham, leaving their dead selves behind them, forgotten on the road.

        "Hello," Joseph remarked, sidling up to a group of Temple priests and mercenaries. "Here is my escort to Surrender."

        The men were frozen mid-stride, marching out of Bread Home, heading towards the Shepherds' Field. Their garments, lifting in the breeze of the other world, outside the Gate, were rendered in unmoving sculpture.

        "I saw them coming. That is why I moved us into the Gate," Gabriel danced around the men. "Yes, I thought I recognized this one: Annas."

        Joseph smiled. "The prefect himself coming to see me. Doubtless because he is Mary's brother. But why isn't Cleopas here?"

        "Look again, Joseph."

        He did so. No other priest was present, just Annas. The rough men with him all had ropes round their middles, over their belts, curious tethers with knots along their length. Joseph removed one and inspected it. Then he dropped it on the ground as if it were an adder.
Gabriel poked through Annas' robes and beneath the bronze plates of his office. "And here is just the proof we need!" he exclaimed.

        "They were coming to kill me," Joseph protested sadly. "Why, when they expected me to be dead? Who would have the audacity to reverse the decision of God?"

        "I did," Gabriel answered.

        Joseph turned slowly round and his neck lengthened. "Surely God did not mean me to die. I was Innocent. Are you not an angel of the Lord? Did He not send you to save me?"

        Gabriel's jaw set in hard lines beneath his smooth cheek. "The Father would hardly have sent one so unworthy to be your salvation."

        "Any other of your brethren would have scared me to death, Gabe. Only you could have made this possible. The Father was wise to send me you."

        "Actually, Mira sent me to you and she is not a messenger of the Lord. She is no dragon."

        "No?" Joseph's mouth crooked sardonically. "Well she is certainly something very special."

        "Truly," Gabriel sighed. "Have a look at this." Gabriel handed him a small copper plate with tiny scribings, like the inventory records of the Temple.

        Joseph read the title three times over before it made any sense. Jake had sold the olive grove--Joseph's olive grove--to Annas. "How?"

        Gabriel surfaced from under Annas' robes with a leather sheaf. He pulled out several papers and read them. "The answer is a little convoluted, but in the main, it is thus: you would die--either by God's Hand or theirs--then your marriage to Lydia would be annulled, making your children bastards and leaving your widow, Mira, as sole heir, and her father, Jake, the owner of all your property. Jake has already signed the Mount over to Annas in exchange for witnessing, or causing, your demise. Annas brought an architect to the grove--what is this date?--yes, during the sacrifice for Tabernacles. On that date, Annas hired this man," Gabriel lifted a page out of the stack," to build him an estate house atop Olive Mount, with a lovely view of the Temple--after he had cleared the garden and the oil press, of course."

        Gabriel waited for Josh to explode.

        But Josh was dead.

        Joseph said, "I pity Jake. He has to live with himself until the day he dies. Surely none other will have him. I wonder if his cruelty even gives him any pleasure? Well, sadly, I will give him no pleasure this day, though I cannot say the same for him."

        Gabriel tucked the papers back into their sheaf and placed the copper plate with them. He handed the lot to Joseph who snuggled them safely beneath his belt. "I never thought the day would come when I would be happy to see Jake."

        They were nearly to Jerusalem when Joseph stopped laughing long enough to ask, "Gabriel, what happens when we leave The Gate?"

        "You will seem to appear out of nowhere. There is a dazzling shimmer and then you manifest in the normal rhythm of time."
Joseph's mustache flared over his wide smile. "Let us stay in The Gate until we are before the altar in The Holies."

        They skirted Jerusalem to the east, along the Kidron valley and entered the city through the northern Sheep Gate. They passed between the Antonia Fortress and the Bethesda Pool, stepping upon the great arched bridge which led up to the Annex garden on the north side of the Nazarite convent.

        "So this is how you sneaked into Mira's quarters," Joseph commented as they slipped past the Temple Guards at the garden entryway. "I've always wondered."

        Gabriel did not reply. The angel turned inward, gathering his emotions. He walked across the garden, past a group of young girls in pale robes and veils. They seemed to be arguing with a slender, sloe-eyed Nazarite who held a deep blue cloak draped over her arms.

        Into the Annex and down two corridors they strode into Mira's old chambers. The atrium was empty, so they passed through a low arch into the next room. Both men halted just inside the door, stunned by the woman who sat near the hearth, reading a scroll.

        The Gate had caught Mira like a solid graven image of incredible comeliness.

        "Oh, my," Joseph said breathlessly.

        "Mirriam," Gabriel christened the vision before him.

        Joseph felt an aching appreciation rising from his heart to his throat. Little Mira had been displaced by this beautiful woman. He traced the perfect curve of her neck, the introspective tilt of her head, the fathomless depths of her dark, soft eyes, staring calmly at the infinite. Her face was fair beyond describing, without definite expression, either joy or despair, shining with a grace which was almost visual, an aura of light like a veil of pure illumination. Joseph found he had approached her, though he did not remember doing so. He looked down to find Gabriel kneeling before Mirriam, as enchanted as himself by the sight of her.

        The angel was weeping softly. Joseph crouched down beside him and laid his broad hand on Gabriel's wide shoulders. He put his other hand on Mirriam's round stomach.

        "Between the three of us," Joseph caught Gabriel's attention. "We shall have a son to rule the world."

        Gabriel scrambled up awkwardly. "I only wanted to see she was well. I will not interfere with you. I will go away and bother you no more."

        "Do not be ridiculous, Gabriel. The three of us are so different--that is, I assume the blood of the child has changed Mira, Mirriam, as I am changed..."

        "Yes," Gabriel backed further away, trying not to look at Mirriam and staring at her all the while.

        "I said I was a magpie, Gabriel."

        Gabriel nodded, but his eyes stayed on Mirriam.

        "Well, you've caught my eye, you shiny bird, and I do not intend to lose you. Gabriel, I want you to stay. For some reason, we are appointed by Himself to tend this lovely lady and the son to whom she belongs. We will both be lonesome for her love, I think, but we need not be lonely if we are together.

        "Your brothers have disowned you. You have no one else. It is my thinking you are stuck with me, Gabriel."

        Gabriel's gaze left Mirriam and settled on Joseph's face. "You need not pity me, Joseph. I am sufficient unto myself."

Joseph stood and walked to the door. He was not disturbed by Gabriel's sudden iciness. Gabriel was still learning how to be human and pride seemed to be the lesson of the moment. "Bird," he called. "Let us be off."

        Gabriel followed him out of the Annex into a side entry of the tunnel from the Fortress. They followed the tunnel up into the hearth chambers of the priests and climbed up into the Holies.

        Joseph stole a piece of scroll and a soft metal stylus from one of the scribes seated in the Court of the Holies. He asked Gabriel to wait while he copied the particulars of Annas' copper plate, with a few revisions.

        Then both men walked to the altar. Joseph extended his hand to Gabriel.

        "You're a good friend, Bird."

        "As are you, Mason." Gabriel left him at the altar and walked away without looking back until he reached the Veil of the Holy of Holies. Before he entered he studied Joseph, berating himself for not having explained about the change in his friend's mien, but Joseph had seen the change in Mirriam's face. Perhaps he would understand. Gabriel ducked behind the ragged curtain and took his place as a third Cheryb. Then he released them both from The Gate.

        No one witnessed Joseph's appearance. The only men in the Upper Court were the scribes, preoccupied with their preparations for the High Priest's arrival, and one scribe who was patting the ground and searching himself for the blank scroll which was now in Joseph's possession.

        Joseph was a little disappointed. When he was sure no one had noticed his arrival, he walked around to the western wall of the Holies and stood behind one of the thick pilasters he had carved more than a decade past.


---


        The afternoon sun made Joseph drowsy and he dozed off, standing upright. He did not wake until the row at the altar became loud enough to disturb him.

        "Joachim!" High Priest Simon roared. "You will hold your tongue until Annas returns to affirm the outcome of the trial. And thereafter, you will keep your peace until I give you leave to speak."

        Joseph edged away from the pilaster's shelter. The entire Council had assembled in the court before the altar. The lesser priests and initiates were kept busy keeping a larger throng of Judeans at bay beyond the highest court. These latter spilled forward in a wave and entered the narrow walkway round the Debir along its eastern wall proceeding, despite the priests' protests, to circle the Temple and file into the Court of Women.

        Joseph joined them as they came past, tramping into the adjacent court to better observe the proceedings. He managed to hold his place at the top of the stairs into the Holies despite the tide of men pushing by as Simon commanded them to remember where they were.

        There was an invocation, a restatement of the charges, a reading of the curses, both Mirriam's and his own. Joseph was delighted to hear Simon had not altered his malediction about Jake's shortcomings. Behind him Joseph could hear the common folk suppress their mirth behind respectful coughs and throat-clearings. Jake stood, chin high, nose to the heavens in seeming victory.

        Why would they have bothered to change Joseph's proclamation? They thought he was dead. Pity, but life was full of unexpected occurrences. Joseph hid his smile in his beard. He might not be able to enter The Gate on his own, but he was well aware of timing and its importance.

The crowd in the Women's Court shuffled and rustled like leaves, parting at its center to admit the entourage from the Annex. Mirriam was flanked by two of the Nazarites that had been arguing in the garden. She was wearing the royal blue cloak over her pale robes, carrying the large tapestry she had woven for the Temple Veil. The purple of the Veil and the blue of her cloak looked like the curtain of the Holies, as if Mirriam were herself a precious and mysterious tabernacle.

        Joseph could not help seeing the resemblance even as he understood the other arc was empty and false. If he had thought her wondrous in the motionless affect of The Gate, he found the sight of her coming towards him almost more than he could bear. No one in that host was unaffected by her presence, though many were afraid of her--and not the least of these, Jake.

        Joseph put his knuckle between his teeth and bit down to keep from crying out to Mirriam as she passed him by, unnoticed. She was so brave and so alone, all he wanted to do was take her out of here, away from these people who neither understood nor deserved her.

        Not that he did either, Joseph reminded himself, but, as with Gabriel, he was the one at hand. He would have to do.

        Mirriam approached the altar and placed her offering, the Veil, into Simon's hands. The High Priest blessed her and proclaimed her innocence.

        As if his words meant anything at all, Joseph mused. At least all that weaving would not be wasted. Simon could not refuse to hang her piece as the central panel of the new Veil now.

        Mirriam nodded to the High Priest as if dismissing him. She began to turn just as Annas came rushing up the eastern stair, breathless and flushed.

        Jake's face clenched. Annas caught sight of him and raised his hands, palms up. The prefect bowed before Simon.

        Mirriam's pale fingers fluttered up to her throat and, for the first time since she had entered the Temple, she seemed frightened.

        Joseph bowed his head. She fears for me. Imagine that.

        "Speak the witnessing, Prefect Annas," Simon commanded.

        "His robe was there, Lord. Torn and bloody, too filthy to bring into this holy place. His body is gone. The jackals, or perhaps a lion. There was no time to search the fields, but we questioned the shepherds. They had seen nothing."

        The Pharisees, absent Master Hillel, who was ill this day, grumbled and shook their heads. In the Women's Court, the common folk gasped. Joseph turned to see a few of them tearing their robes. He was touched to think anyone would care. I have been blind, he thought. Joseph turned back towards the altar to see Mirriam's hands over her face and her shoulders shaking.

        Joseph rushed forward, knocking down two Levites who thought he was attacking them. He caught Mirriam in a hug from behind, circling her high on her shoulders with his arms, a trick he'd learned from Lydia's many pregnancies, when she was too sore and too big to hug from the front. He leaned down and whispered reassurances that he was well, that he loved her very much, that he would protect her always. He told her Gabriel had returned and that he knew everything and that--

        Mirriam turned round and faced him. Joseph went deaf to the exuberant din that surrounded them. He did not hear Jake's mad yowling at Annas, or Simon's unheeded admonishments. Mirriam curled her fingers over his left ear and pinched him very hard.

        "Ouch!" Joseph hissed.

        Mirriam's voice was quiet as dawn breezes, but he heard her clearly, though he could hear nothing else. "Husband of mine," her nose flared slightly. "If ever you scare me like that again, you will wish you were dead."

        "I did not believe--"

        "Believe." She did not even give him the chance to explain his unworthiness to her. Joseph had the distinct impression she never would.

        The mob ordered itself reluctantly and Joseph approached Simon. He stopped rubbing his ear and bowed deeply. "I am come to stand witness to my innocence in the Sight of God and this Assembly." That wasn't the exact formula, but it was close enough.

        "And your offering?" Simon asked wearily. The High Priest was enjoying this only slightly more than Jake, who was not enjoying this at all.

        Joseph rose from his bow and the late sun flashed off Simon's breast plates starlight in Joseph's face. Simon staggered backward and waved his hands in warding.

        "What are you?" Simon choked out.

        "I am Joseph, husband of Mirriam, a mason," Joseph replied. What was the matter with this priest? Joseph turned towards Mirriam. She put her hands up to her cheeks, but he did not understand what she meant.

        "Your face," Simon rasped.

        "What is wrong with my face?" Joseph felt his nose, his cheeks. They did not seem different.

        Simon did not answer him. The High Priest stared at him, caught in the shadows of Joseph's eyes.

        "Here is my offering, Lord," Joseph gave Simon the scroll he had written on.

        Simon seemed to be waking from a dream. He unrolled the document and read it carefully. "You are most generous, Joseph, husband of Mirriam."

        Joseph brought forth Annas' leather pouch and held it so that the prefect and Jake could see it. He played with the sheaf as Simon continued.

        "Joseph has deeded the west lower third of the Olive Mount to the Temple, in perpetuity, so long as his heirs abide in his home on the eastern slope of the mount." Simon swallowed and said less loudly, "Joachim from Branch is not to be considered an heir, now or henceforth."

        Joseph lifted the leather pouch and chewed on its edge. He could almost feel Jake and the prefect squirming behind him. And where was the prefect's brother-in-law, Joseph wondered. Where is Cleopas? Surely Alf--No, everyone expected Joseph to die. Cleopas did not come because there was no use in going through this and someone had to be with the children when their orphaning was revealed.

        "Is there something else?" Simon asked.

        "Bless God, blessed be His Holy Name," Joseph intoned the end of the ceremony.

        He took Mirriam's arm in his and walked up to Jake. Poor Jake, Joseph chided himself for so enjoying his father-in-law's acute discomfort. "I believe these are yours." He handed the leather wallet to Jake.

        "You are forgiven," Joseph added as he leaned toward Jake.

        Jake slapped the wallet out of Joseph's hand. His face turned scarlet with rage and the veins at his temples stood out like serpents. An anticipatory rumble ran through the gathering.

        Joseph sighed and knelt down on one knee to retrieve the evidence against Jake, so that it would not fall into anyone else's hands. "I would take it and burn it." He lifted up the leather sheaf.

        Beside Jake, Annas reached for the incriminating papers. Joseph shook his head, "Touch it and the entire Assembly will be told."

        Annas drew back.

        Jake was so angry he could not speak, but he was clearly affronted by Joseph's charity.

        "We will forget this ever happened, Jake. You will come to live in 'Salem and we will visit you often. A grandchild to bounce on your knee, Jake. Think of it. And that day, I will take back what I said about you, in the center of the Temple at the top of my voice. For your daughter's sake, and your dear wife, you have my friendship, whether or not you accept it."

        Jake began to tremble, not in fear, but in abject wrath. His eyes burned with his fury and his hands beat the air in flurries of temper. "How dare you!" The violence and rancor strangled his voice to a bitter vestige of his former bass. "How--"

        The Assembly was used to Jake's dramatics, his fits and visions, when things were not going his way. There was no immediate concern when the irritating elder fell to the pavement. Only Joseph responded, dropping with him, cushioning Jake's head from hitting the stone. The Pharisees laughed openly. Simon and the priests attempted to look more unconcerned than embarrassed.

        The Women's Court rocked with vengeant glee.

        Joseph heard it all, and every sound pierced and hurt him, because he was the only one who perceived the Truth. It tore the last of his vengeance from him as if he were flayed. It left him raw with regret for thinking that he did not mean to harm Jake, only to bring him up short.

        "Come away, Joseph." Mirriam touched his arm. "There is nothing more to do."
Joseph staggered to his feet and Mirriam led him away.

        Halfway down the stairs to the Women's Court, Joseph remembered the leather wallet. "Wait, Mirriam, I--”

        Mirriam handed him the wallet without comment.

        "Mirriam, I am so--"

        "If I had known what he was up to, Joseph, I would have killed him with much worse than kindness."

        A cry went up near the altar. They had finally discovered Jake's demise. The news fired back through the crowd and people Joseph had known all his life nearly trampled each other trying to get away from him. Joseph and Mirriam went easily through the throng and out onto the lower court.

        Joseph was reminded of Simon’s reaction. "Mirriam, what is wrong with my face?"

        "Nothing," Mirriam stopped suddenly and held her breath.

        The baby was not due for another two months, but Mirriam had been through more than was right at her advanced stage. Joseph picked her up.

        "I can walk," Mirriam complained.

        "And I can carry," Joseph chuckled. "I am sure both skills will serve us well in the years to come. What is it about my face that scared Simon?"

        "I'm sure I cannot say." Mirriam wove her hand through his beard. "Unless it is the way you beam or how your eyes go on forever or how your mouth rests slightly open as if you've just been kissed by God Himself and cannot quite come to terms with it."

        Mirriam pulled his face down to her by his beard and kissed him.

        Joseph was so startled he almost dropped her.

        "Yes," Mirriam grinned. "That's the look exactly."
 




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