Christ the Lord The Road to Cana Page 0,3

to me, Yeshua, a constant worry. You come out here in the dark to the creek. You go off to that grove where no one dares to go. . . ."

"They're wrong about that grove," I said. "Those old stones mean nothing." That was a village superstition, that something pagan and dreadful had once taken place in that grove. But it was the mere ruins of an old olive press in there, stones that went way back to the years before Nazareth had been Nazareth. "I tell you this once a year, don't I? But I don't want to worry you, James."
Chapter Two
I EXPECTED JAMES TO CONTINUE.

But he'd gone quiet, staring in the direction of the village.

People were shouting, a lot of people.

I ran my fingers through my hair to smooth it, and turned and looked.

As the full light of day came down, I saw a great cluster of them at the top of the hill, men and boys tumbling and pushing at one another, the whole throng moving slowly downhill towards us.

Out of the melee, the Rabbi emerged, old Jacimus, and, with him, his young nephew Jason. I could see the Rabbi was trying to stop the crowd, but he was swept towards the foot of the hill, towards the synagogue, as the crowd came on, like a frantic herd, until they stopped in the clearing before the palm trees.

As we stood on the slope across the stream we could see them clearly.

Out of their midst, they forced two young boys - Yitra bar Nahom, and beside him the brother of Silent Hannah, the one we all called simply the Orphan.

The Rabbi ran up the stone steps to the roof of the synagogue.

I moved forward, but James held me back harshly.

"Stay out of this," he said.

Rabbi Jacimus' words rang out over the noise of the stream and the grumbling of the crowd.

"We will have a trial here, I tell you!" he demanded. "And I want the witnesses, where are the witnesses? The witnesses will step forward and declare what they saw."

Yitra and the Orphan stood apart as if an impassable gulf separated them from the angry villagers, some of whom were shaking their fists while others cursed under their breath, the oaths that don't require words to convey their meaning.

Again, I moved forward, but James pulled me back. "Stay out of it," he said. "I knew this would happen."

"What? What are you saying?" I demanded.

The crowd broke into shouts and roars. Fingers were pointed. Someone cried out: "Abomination."

Yitra, the older of the two accused, stood still glowering at those before him. He was a righteous boy whom everyone loved, one of the best in the school, and when he'd been taken to the Temple last year, he'd made the Rabbi proud in his answers to the teachers.

The Orphan, smaller than Yitra, was pale with fear, his black eyes huge, and his mouth trembling.

Jason, the Rabbi's nephew, Jason the Scribe, stepped forward on the roof and repeated his uncle's declarations.

"Stop this madness now!" he declared. "There will be a trial according to the law, and you witnesses, where are you? Are you afraid, those of you who started this?"

The crowd drowned out his voice.

Down the hill Nahom, Yitra's father, came running, along with his wife and his daughters. The crowd went into a new wave of insults and invectives, with raised fists and stamping. But Nahom pushed his way through it and looked at his son.

The Rabbi had never stopped calling for this to cease, but we could no longer hear him.

It seemed Nahom spoke to his son, but I couldn't hear it.

And then as the crowd went into a pitch of hatred, Yitra reached out, without thinking perhaps, who could know, and he drew the Orphan protectively to him.

I shouted, "No." But it was lost in the din. I ran forward.

Stones flew through the air. The crowd was a swarming mass beneath the whistling sounds of the stones arching towards the boys in the clearing.

I pushed into the thick of it to get to the boys, James behind me.

But it was finished.

The Rabbi roared like a beast on the roof of the synagogue.

The crowd had gone silent.

The Rabbi, with his hands clasped over his mouth, stared down at the heap of stones below him. Jason shook his head and turned his back.

A howl went up from Yitra's mother, and then came the sobs of his sisters. People turned away. They rushed up the hill, or out to the fields,