Miracle at Golgotha by Augustus (ink book reader .TXT) 📕

“Indeed! And by striking that man, you may as well have struck your best friend, Simon.”
When Titus looked at it that way, it made sense. Besides, Donatus had not harmed Titus, though he might have a few moments later. If only she knew the circumstances, he thought, then she’d know I had no choice. “I’m sorry, mother.”
“Don’t apologize to me. It is the wounded man to whom you owe your apology. And it is God whom you should ask to be forgiven.”
Now Titus was glad his mother had brought him inside to lecture him. He’d never hear the end of it, if she’d berated him before the others. His mother squeezed his hand softly and bowed her head. Without seeing her face, he felt as if she was still watching him, so he bowed his head as well.
“Dear Father,” she began almost in a whisper, leaving him to wonder whether she did not want the men to hear her. “We come to you humbly to ask for your forgiveness. Know that we seek your guidance and though we are weak, we strive to stay on the straight and narrow path. Titus begs your forgiveness, as do I, for all our transgressions.”
Titus jerked his head up at the sound of his name. He’d never before heard his mother invoke his name in her prayers. He noticed that she’d been praying with her eyes shut. At that moment, she opened them again.
“Titus?”
“Yes?”
“Is there anything you want to add?”
He looked left, then right, then at her. “Like what?”
“Like asking for strength to sin no more, to resist temptation and to make amends to those you’ve harmed.”
“Oh yes, of course,” he said. He straightened his back. “Dear God of Israel, hear my prayer.” He remembered that line from the way Rabbi Moshe started his supplications. “Help me sin no more and if you can, Lord, please help my father commit no more transgressions.”
His mother tapped his left hand gently, as if approving his request.
Titus continued. “He’s a good man, really he is. I’m sure you know this already, but deep down he believes in you, too. Thank you for listening. Amen.”
“Amen. Very good,” said his mother as they both rose. “You got up very early today. Go take a nap.”
Titus did not argue. He felt the weight of the morning’s events start to drag him down. He trudged to his sleeping spot and laid down on his side. Whirling images began flooding his semi-consciousness. The sight of Donatus crumpled on the ground kept resurfacing in his mind, as did the unlikely scene of dancing lepers wearing Jewish garments.

Chapter 11

Titus awoke to the clip clop of horses and the heavy smoke of fire. The rays of sunlight glinted along the walls at an odd slant. He had slept longer than he’d planned. Sitting up, he noticed his mother had poured water on their fire and caused it to hiss and smolder. He glanced outside through the open door. The men were gone.
“Are you awake?” asked Leah. “It’s time to perform our duties at the Temple. Of all days, today is not one to be late.”
It was Friday and it would be a busy day at the temple. Passover was upon them and while Leah and Titus were not Jews, they certainly had learned many of the Jewish holidays and traditions.
Titus and his mother made their way to the Temple. His mother had surmised correctly. The road through the lower city was more crowded than usual, carts of goods and wares traveled in both directions. The city was humming.
The temple traffic in commerce was carefully controlled as always. Shop windows were already open with customers and merchants making deals. Roosters crowed and chickens clucked in baskets as their owners showed them off to prospective buyers. There were children, seemingly lost, everywhere.
When they arrived at Titus’ work station, Simon waited for them. “Greetings. I was wondering if you were coming today. The sun has been up for awhile now.”
Titus answered immediately. “It’s my fault, I overslept. I may have stayed up later than I thought last night.”
“I thought so,” said Simon. He glanced at Leah. “My mother’s inside already. She wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll go see her at once,” said Leah, securing her head covering and hurrying toward the kitchen.
When Leah was out of earshot, Simon smiled at his friend. “We’ve been asked to stay late today, maybe until this evening.”
Titus frowned. It wasn’t unheard of that the Temple guards would make such a request of them, but usually it had to do with extra cleaning and preparations for holy feasts. Today was only Friday.
“Asked by whom, and for what reason?” asked Titus.
“It’s Passover, remember? The Rabbi has guests from out of town and there’s likely to be prayer and ceremonial offerings all day and into the night.”
“Ah yes, the feast of the unleavened bread, how could I forget?” said Titus. “And to cook that bread they’ll need a fire burning continuously throughout the day and night, which means they’ll need plenty of wood and cleaning of the hearths day and night.”
“Precisely, my friend. Come, let’s get started.”
And so began the long day of hauling and stacking wood, of sweeping and cleaning ashes and burnt animal bones from the fireplaces in the Temple. Only three of the four fireplaces had been used by the time the sun was directly overhead. Titus and Simon had learned that the fourth and main altar was clean and ready to use but was reserved for the Saturday ceremonies.
Titus learned a lot more about the Temple when his mother came for him and Simon and took them through a doorway at the end of a long, high-ceilinged hallway. The entry was guarded by a Temple sentry who Titus expected would stop them. The guard instead glanced at Leah and merely nodded.
The entry was to a downward stairway lit on one side by burning torches. Small rectangular airways above each torch allowed the smoke to escape upward. Titus wondered whether this lower chamber was close to where the gold and money was stored, somewhere deep in the bowels of this cavernous building. He’d been to other rooms in the temple but they had all been on the first or second floor, never in the lower chambers. Titus and Simon followed Leah to a dimly-lit room where Simon’s mother sat next to four other women and two old men in a semi-circle on the floor. In front of them, stood Rabbi Moshe.
“Welcome, Titus and Simon. Leah, have a seat please,” said the Rabbi, motioning to a spot on the floor behind the other workers.
Leah and the young men nodded toward the rabbi and sat behind the others, facing the long-bearded holy man. Titus wondered whether they were being chastised or punished for something that they’d done wrong, though he could not imagine what that might be.
“Today is a special day as you might know. It is a joyous day,” said the rabbi glancing from one person to the other. “It is the first day of the celebration of the unleavened bread, otherwise known as Passover. But I have troubling news to share with you as well. And please do not disseminate this news any more than is absolutely necessary.” He paused when everyone seemed to sit up straighter.
“When our holy men preside over the offerings to our god, they do so in specially prepared garments, items that have special and ancient significance. This, you already know.” He paused again and cleared his throat when it seemed he choked up. “Earlier today, we learned through a centurion from the Tower of Antonia that the garments, which we stored there for safekeeping, have been stolen.”
There was a collective gasp. The women put their hands over their mouth as if their expression of shock was not permitted before the rabbi. Leah crossed her hands over her chest, fixing her eyes upon Titus with a coruscating look, then to the ground, then to the rabbi, then to the ground again. Titus fidgeted. He made sure she could not look him directly in the eyes but he could feel her look upon him.
Then, a heavy silence fell over the group. There were no sounds audible down in the lower chamber, no merchants trying to attract customers, no children running and screaming, not even people praying to their gods, only the crackle of the burning torches.
The rabbi continued. “You might be wondering why I’m sharing this bad news with you. Well, I do have a reason. First, you are my charges, so I wanted to tell you myself. Caiaphas and the others will inform their charges as well.
The talk on the streets is, the garments were stolen by three or four thieves masquerading as Jewish priests. They weren’t priests, of course, they were commoners, gentiles such as yourselves. That is what the Romans have told us. Now, rest assured. No one is blaming you. Quite the contrary, you have been loyal Temple workers for as long as I’ve known you. I tell you this information so that you might keep your ears and eyes open to any talk or place where we might find the garments.”
Then, he touched the robe he was wearing and ran his finger along the line of the gold lace trim down his chest, as if the garment bestowed some kind of celestial dignity upon him. He muttered almost as an afterthought. “Headdresses and robes are of little use to anyone outside the Temple.”
The rabbi gave the workers time to absorb the strange news, then bade them farewell. “Remember, you can come to me directly. You need not fear the Romans or the Temple guards.”
Titus, Simon and the women filed out of the room and up the stairs to the bright light of the main level of the Temple. Leah and Simon’s mother each hugged their son and headed back to the kitchen. Titus and Simon remained quiet as they were escorted by a guard back to the wood storage area where they began sweeping and cleaning floors.
Shortly after sunset, Leah appeared at Titus and Simon’s work area with a bowl in each hand. The aromatic smell of cooked fish quickly filled Titus’ nostrils. She smiled at both of the young men. “You both must be starving. Here, this is fish