Revelations (25 page)

I certainly cannot complain about the accommodations here; they’re far more comfortable than some of the places I’ve been incarcerated in over the years. I understand the Sheriff is simply doing his duty. He’s trying his best to help me, but he doesn’t realize there is nothing he can do, that none of his efforts will make any difference. I cannot make him understand that, but he’ll have to accept it, someday.

Very soon, in fact. I hope he gets his wish for better things, as long as it’s good for his family as well. His wife is so very kind, and their daughter most delightful.

Little Sarah Kaplan is the sweetheart of my apostles. She not only sits with us while I talk to the boys, she converses with them, and they adore her. She accepts them as being who they are, and she never questions me or them. Ah, the innocence of childhood.

It’s taken a while, but Sheriff Kaplan has finally recognized Mary M. for who she is—in this time, that is. Which is a very successful pop singer. He’s seen the flyer about tonight’s benefit, so he knows exactly what will be going on, and he’s even discussed security arrangements with Mary. She’s assured him she’s providing security for this event. But knowing the sheriff, as I’m coming to do, I think he’ll insist upon being there himself, as he was for our own. I’m not sure what arrangements he’ll make regarding the jail. I know he won’t leave me, or it, unguarded. Perhaps he’ll set his deputy in place over me. I also speculate as to whether Lucifer’s followers will redirect their current efforts toward the concert, rather than at me. I cannot be sure. Actually, I’m not sure of anything at this very moment. I find myself filled with self-doubt as well as a severe case of nerves. But I manage to hide both, for the sake of those I love. At least I hope it doesn’t show.

I can’t help but worry about Judas—he took me by surprise this afternoon. I hadn’t expected that, hadn’t realized how very vulnerable he is, although I blame myself, for I should have. I could feel him so very clearly, even though we were miles apart. I could feel his distress, like a knife slicing through my heart. Despite his protestations, I think there’s more to the story than he’s letting on. But I didn’t want to press him. What useful purpose would that serve? None. Maybe tonight he’ll confide in me fully, share his thoughts and feelings. I’m hoping so, anyway.

And if that’s hypocritical on my part, knowing the things I’m withholding from him—maybe it is, but it’s for his own good.

I did receive a confession today, not entirely unexpected, from the apostle who caused harm to Judas. I won’t mention any names, as I don’t see it will gain anything, but he did ask for my forgiveness, and I gave it. With the understanding there’ll be no more of that, ever again. I didn’t demand an apology, and neither shall I tell Judas. I don’t think it will do anyone any good, and perhaps it might cause more harm than good if he knew who it was.

I wonder what Jude will do with his life once I’m gone. Will he ever have contact with any of them again? Or will he strike out on his own, do something else with his newly extended life? Will he continue with the work we’ve begun?

He’ll be able to do whatever he likes, whatever he can imagine. He’s so very clever, how can he help but succeed at whatever he chooses to do? As long as he’s happy. That’s what counts. The
only
thing that counts. His happiness.

I can’t help but wonder, though, if he’ll ever forgive me? Either in this world or the next?

None of my disciples have any inkling of my intentions, which is how I wish it to remain. I don’t think they’ll divine them, either. Mary M, though, is the one I need to watch out for. She’s a very smart woman, and she knows me so very well.

I can’t afford to let her have any idea what’s going to happen, or she’ll try to stop me, of that I have no doubt. But she can’t, it’s already set in motion. And I don’t want her to. She’ll be my last visitor, for after that she and the boys will need to get ready for tonight. I’m glad we’ll have this time together, our last for a while.

My mind’s wandering, I need to pay closer attention to what she’s saying before she becomes suspicious. She’s telling me who else will be playing tonight, and I have to admit I’m quite impressed she has such connections in the music business. I’m very proud of her. They’re well-known names, from what I understand. It’s strictly due to her influence, her ability to make friends and keep them. It’ll certainly be a diverse concert. One of the musicians is a famous heavy metal singer while another has been well known in the rock world for many years.

I’m not allowed to name names, but one begins with an O, the other an E. The boys will be very happy, not to mention surprised. She’s kept the details hush hush from them, and she’s promised me a full report of this night and what it brings in the morning. Little does she realize the chance to discuss it with me will never come.

Sarah sits on Mary’s lap. They’re clearly at ease with one another. I have to smile every time I look at them. There’s no one in the other cell now, the previous occupant having been released some time ago for good behavior. Would that it were so easy for me. The child alternates between us as the mood strikes her, and every so often her mother pops in and asks if she’s bothering us, to which we reply no, please let her stay. I think Sarah doesn’t know who Mary is, but it’s obvious she likes her. When she isn’t on our laps, she’s drawing pictures for both of us. The walls of my cell are covered in her artwork.

“Please, be gentle with Jude,” I plead with Mary. I know, I can’t stop thinking about him, and worrying about how he’ll get by once I’m gone. “I know he doesn’t make it easy to like him. He never has.”

“You can say that again!’ She laughs easily, before turning more serious. “I won’t lie. I’ve never liked him a whole lot. Or at all. Most of the time I think he’s just a stupid son—” She catches herself in time, mindful of small ears, and amends that to, “stupid guy. And I know he’s always hated me, too, no love lost there.” I certainly can’t argue with that. Judas isn’t an easy man to love. But he doesn’t show that side of himself to me. He’s a thorny, beautiful rose, but once you get past the thorns, you can see the beautiful blossom that he is.

“But,” she continues, “on the other hand, I’m starting to see a change in him, much as I hate to admit it. All right, maybe he’s not so bad. Quit smiling like that, it’s just as bad as telling me I told you so.” I can’t help it; her words are so very pleasing to me that I have to smile. “He’s just a rock head. A very stubborn one at that. And he loves you more than anything, Jesus. That much I know.”

“Told you,” Sarah mutters to herself, a complacent smirk upon her young lips.

I’m unsure if she is seconding the sentiment or if it’s the realization that someone else knows who I am and that she’s right about me. I can’t help but smile at her precocity.

“I know he does,” I agree with Mary, “and I love him, too, more than I ever thought possible. I just wish I’d realized it sooner.” I bite back my next words, for they’re far too close to the truth for comfort, and I won’t let this particular cat out of the bag for anything.

Mary envelops me in a sympathetic hug, sandwiching Sarah between us, producing giggles from the girl. “Maybe next time.” She winks at me, as she rises from her chair, setting the child upon her hip. I don’t tell her that after this time he may not even be speaking to me, much less love me in the next life. Who knows what rules will have been imposed upon us by then? I’m not even sure how my father will feel about what I’m doing, but I can’t let that stop me. Not now.

“I’m going to get these guys back, we gotta show to do.” She grins. My apostles realize she’s getting ready to leave, and they all begin to cluster excitedly near the door, waving to me. I return their farewells, smile affixed to my face as Mary hands Sarah over to her mother. It’s going to be quite a night for them, one I know they won’t soon forget. Mine will be, too, but in quite a different way. “I’ll give you a full report in the morning,” she promises, before she kisses me sweetly.

She’s always been a good friend to me, and I feel a bit hypocritical when I can’t tell her that won’t happen, but I manage a smile that’s hopefully not too stiff as I keep my secret from her, knowing this is actually good-bye.

“Be careful,” I murmur, and I mean both tonight, and with crossing the line outside—although there’ve been no outward signs of violence, there have been words exchanged, threats made. Surprising threats considering they profess to be gentle people, my father’s spokesmen even. Sometimes I wonder if Lucifer contains them or incites them. Knowing him, it’s impossible to say.

“I will,” Mary promises. “Just don’t worry about a thing. Concentrate on yourself tonight. For once.” She gives me one of her looks, the one that says “and I mean it, mister.” I smile, despite myself. “Just be happy. Love him—while you can.” Her prophetic words ring in my ears, and then she’s gone, disappearing with the boys through the door, and out of my life. I hear cries of “Whore!” and

“Harlot!” before the door closes behind them. I’m not worried; she’s a tough cookie, as they say. She can handle herself. I fall back onto the cot, as if my legs no longer wish to hold me, and I grip the edge of the bed tightly, taking a deep breath, willing myself not to cry. I can do this, I tell myself. I have to do it, for Judas’ sake.

Forcing myself to my feet, I approach the bars, looking toward the clock so that I might ascertain the time. Almost five. Not much longer and Judas will be here.

Knowing him, he’s already parked outside, merely waiting for them to leave before he comes in. The very idea brings a smile to my face.

“You look happy, Joshua.” Kathy Kaplan’s voice breaks into my thoughts, and I find myself blushing. I can see her daughter sitting on the sheriff’s lap, being tickled by him, eliciting delighted giggles. Such a lovely family, I think. Very happy. They’re very lucky to have one another. I try to focus on Kathy’s words, as she approaches my cell. “I thought you’d be more upset at missing out on the concert and everything, being with your friends and all.” Her eyes search my face as if she can read my mind, tell what I’m thinking. “Won’t Mr. Jarvis be there with them?”

At that moment, with the most exquisite of timing, in walks my sweet Judas himself, and for a moment I’m speechless. My heart thumps so loudly I’m sure it must be clearly audible to one and all, as I watch his entrance. He must have gone back to camp, he’s changed his clothes. Gotten rid of the braids. And no, he’s not wearing any special suit, nothing fancy or expensive, no designer label tonight—

he’s donned his own robes, his beautiful blond hair flowing loose. And I can’t help but think he’s never been as beautiful as at this very moment.

I find my tongue, aware I’m being inadvertently rude in not answering her question. “No, he’s going to stay here tonight.” Is my smile growing bigger with every syllable? My eyes are all for him as he crosses the room, and his are fixed upon me as well. As if we’ve tuned out everyone else in the world but one another.

He approaches my cell now, his hands reaching through the bars to grasp mine, and I grow hot and cold at his touch.

“Good evening, Mr. Jarvis,” Kathy greets him. I can hear bemusement in her voice, but it isn’t a bad thing, not at all. Everything else simples falls away.

Nothing else matters at this moment but Judas.

“Call me Jude, please,” he responds with a smile. His voice has taken on its most charming timber, the one I know and love so well, the one that makes me shiver, in private. He knows how to be good when he wants to be. Why can’t he want to be more often?

“You look very nice,” she compliments him. “Both of you. In fact, you match now, that’s so cute.”

My attention is caught by the young lady, who has leapt off her father’s lap in order to run to us. She’s tugging at Judas’ robes. “Jude,” the astute child addresses him, which earns her his attention. He glances down toward her, brows raised inquisitively, listening. “Mr. Jude, do you love Jesus?” Her mother manages to look nonplused for a moment at the unexpected question, and I must admit I’m curious to hear what he’s going to say to the child. Maybe he’ll tell her everyone loves Jesus—I’ve heard him use that line before. But his actual response causes my heart to flutter even more.

“I do, Sarah,” he affirms solemnly, offering the child his serious consideration.

“I love him very much. Do you think that’s a good thing?”

“Yes.” She giggles. “Why don’t you marry him?” That I hadn’t expected, and I’m not sure which of us is more dumbstruck—Kathy or me. But it isn’t Judas.

Releasing my hands with a reassuring squeeze, he kneels beside the wise child, giving her his full attention. “Someday I will,” he promises her. “I think that’s a very good idea.” She giggles some more, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life before, hearing those heartfelt words. They give me hope that someday, some time, he and I may indeed be united in the bonds of holy matrimony. ’Til death do we part. If he’s still speaking to me, that is.

“Come on, honey, we have to go home and get your stuff,” Kathy is saying,

“sleepover at Jenny’s house tonight, remember?”

Sarah wraps a slender arm about Jude’s neck and spontaneously kisses him before turning back to her mother, taking her hand. “Okay, Mom,” she says, “let’s go. Bye Jude, bye Jesus.”

“I’ll be back in a little while,” Kathy says to us, “just got a couple of things to do.” I’m not sure why she’s coming back, but then I realize it must be to bring her husband his dinner. I’ve suddenly lost all track of time. All I can see or feel is Judas. “Go on in, Mr....I mean, Jude,” she corrects herself. The door to my cell is open, has been all day. I guess they’ve assessed me as a low flight risk. I imagine she leaves right after that, but I don’t know, as my attention is elsewhere. He walks through the door and into my arms, and our lips have suddenly become quite attached, and nothing else in the world matters. Nothing but this final countdown.