Revelations (4 page)

So, to get back on track, why do people think being gay is wrong, if God made homosexuals that way? It’s
not
a choice, nor is it the result of abuse. That theory really blows my mind. Seriously? Do you really think that many people, throughout the centuries, all just happened to be abused, and all of them turned homosexual? I don’t think so. What about little girls who are abused by males, is that why they turn out to be heterosexual? No, of course not. And with mankind’s current knowledge of genetics, especially, why is it so difficult to understand that gay people were made the way they are, just as straight people were made the way they are—and God loves them all equally? Christians do
not
have the corner on God’s love, let me throw that in there, while I may. He loves everyone on this earth. No exception. No matter their color, race, creed, or sexual orientation—

they’re
all
His children.

Well, I think my point’s been made, and I’m tired of talking about it anyway.

Besides, I’m almost ready to launch my current plan to annoy the bejesus out of Judas. It’s a joke, you’re free to laugh.

I don’t travel with them as much as I once did, not in this lifetime. As I said, I’ve been doing my own thing, and very well at that. But I catch up with them when I can, of course. And I stay in touch with them. Ah, the miracles of cell phones, email, and text messaging. I just love these times we live in. Anyway, I know where they are right this moment, in fact, and as I’ve been penning this, I’ve been en route to their location—having been apprised of their whereabouts by my sweet little Matthew—and I’ve bribed him not to say a word that I’m coming. You gotta love modern air travel, ya know?

My secretary is with me, her name is Ruth. No, not that Ruth, just a coincidence. Quiet little thing, on the meek side. And no, she knows nothing of any of us. What she sees is what she knows. Which is why I’m going to leave her at the hotel, once we arrive, at least for now. But as for myself, I’ve other plans, and once we land, I quickly put them into motion.

I rent a vehicle—a Humvee, because it appeals to my sense of humour, for some reason. I change from my traveling clothes into something a bit more salacious, a bit more calculated to send Judas’ blood pressure skyrocketing—not from covetousness, far from it, but from jealousy. Maybe I’m going a little bit overboard, but I don’t really care. My skirt’s as short as I can manage without violating any local decency laws, and diaphanous as hell; my heels are black stilettos, and I’ve doused myself in the most seductive scent I can find. Just for kicks, I give the clerk at the rental counter a good hard look down into my cleavage

—he’ll have lovely dreams tonight, no doubt, and then I set out to find them, using the GPS so thoughtfully provided with the vehicle.

Matthew’s warned me that Judas is in a mood, and I simply smile to myself, imagining his face when I pull up. I park the Humvee near the tent they’ve set up, the one where tonight’s meeting will take place, and begin to sashay toward them.

Matthew said they’re near a pond, and it isn’t hard to find. They’re all crowded around Mary apparently; Jesus has his arm about his mother. And oh my, what do I see? Judas is pouting. Excellent.

I swing my hips into full power, slow my gait until I’m slinking along at a speed calculated to water the mouth of any male below the age of eighty. Or maybe ninety. I’ve not yet tested the limits of my slinkability. And one by one, they all turn their heads toward me, mouths falling open in full gape. Mary sees me, and her smile is the welcome of a madonna, for she’s my friend, sister, mother

—and more. Then Jesus looks up, and a big grin splits his lovely face. All good, all good.

Last, and certainly least, Judas. I watch as in almost slow motion, he realizes that something is happening, though he doesn’t know what it is. And he glances toward me briefly. Then again. A splendid double take, as he takes in my ensemble, and the effect it is having upon the others—tongues hanging out now, and catcalls filling the air, loaded with hubbahubbas and oh baby’s.

And is he pissed!

My work here is just begun, I see. In fact, I think I’ll stay for the meeting tonight. Just to piss him off even more.

If Judas finds out I’m the one who told Mary M how to find us, he’ll kill me. I just know it. I mean, he
hates
her and everything. And I don’t think he’s any too fond of any of the rest of us. Except for Jesus. Him he’s crazy about. I know, that’s not my problem. Not that it’s a problem, I don’t mean that. But I do know I don’t want any trouble with him. I’m a peaceful kind of guy. At least I try to be. We all do. Well, I’m not counting Jesus, of course. He doesn’t try, he is. He’s perfect, after all. But Judas…he’s different. He’s the betrayer, you know. The traitor. The Judas. Dammit. Sorry, that slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it, but sometimes he just gets my goat. I mean, how can he do it, especially to Jesus?

And Mary M, she’s so beautiful. I can’t believe someone like her chooses to be with me. She could have any guy she wants. She’s not only gorgeous, she’s rich and famous…I know I shouldn’t think like that, she’s still her. We’re still us. Deep down inside, we’re the same people we were two thousand years ago. Mary says we’re the new and improved versions of us. Well, except for Judas. She says he’s his same horrid self. She makes me laugh, Mary does. She makes all of us laugh.

Except Judas. Those two are like oil and water. The only one that never changes, ever, no matter what, is Jesus. He always stays the same. But that stands to reason.

He’s Jesus. The son of God. He needs no changing.

I love him, of course, but I’m not
in
love with him. Not like Judas is. There’s a big difference there. Am I in love with Mary M? Sometimes I think I am. But I try not to think about it too much. I’m happy even being able to share her love. That’s good enough for me. Forget all my little daydreams of marrying her someday, it’s not going to happen. I know that.

But a guy can still dream, right?

There she is now. I wasn’t paying attention, really, even though I knew she’d be coming. I was having too much fun, all of us swimming in the pond, enjoying ourselves with the Master. Let Judas pout, I don’t care. He could join us if he really wanted to, the stick in the mud. But I’m glad he doesn’t.

Damn, she’s looking very fine today, like always. We all crowd around her, forgetting for the moment that none of us is dressed, and we’re soaking wet. Simon shakes himself, like a great big puppy. He means no harm, but apparently he douses Judas in the process. Which only makes him crabbier. And makes Mary laugh all the more.

“Mary, so good to see you.” That’s Jesus now; he’s holding her hands, he’s smiling into her eyes. I’m never jealous of Jesus, it’s just impossible to be. The boys all clamor around her, except for Judas of course. He stands apart, his usual aloof self. He never likes to mingle with us. As far as he’s concerned, we can all go to Hell. Well, the laugh’s on him. I’m sure he’ll end up there someday. Have I ever told him that? Of course not.

I hear someone—either Andrew or Philip, I think—ask Mary if she can stay tonight, and when she says yes, we all get excited, as we begin to cheer for her.

What a wonderful surprise! She hadn’t even mentioned the possibility in her text messages!

“Mary, come into the water!” someone cries, and then someone else, and we all start begging her to join us. Someone else brings out the open bottle of wine, and now it’s being passed around, and Mary takes her turn, bringing the bottle up to her lips as we chant, “Go, go, go, go…” She chugs the last little bit, handing it off, and we watch as she slips out of those high black shoes, the ones that makes her legs look like they go on forever. She kicks them aside, and begins to throw her dress off.

All I can say is wow o wow o wow o…

I’m distracted from her for a moment, my attention drawn to Jesus and Judas.

It’s obvious Judas is angry, and the Master is trying to calm him down, but he won’t have any of it. Judas is trying to walk away, Jesus is attempting to stop him, one hand upon his arm, leaning into him. I’m not close enough to hear them, though, and I’m not even sure I want to, except I can definitely see the anger in the betrayer’s eyes, and for a moment I worry he might try something foolish. But then Mary comes up behind me, and she slides her arms around me so for the moment I lose track of everything but her as she nibbles on my ear—oh, that feels so good—

only to be pulled away again by a couple of the others. Now where was I? Oh yes.

I look toward them again. Judas has headed off in one direction, Jesus in another, and neither one seems happy. They’re both moving away from us.

I’m confused. What just happened? I look at Mother Mary, and she’s smiling at me. “Do not worry, all will be well,” she reassures me. So on that note, I look around for Mary M. I find her making her way toward the pond, her beautiful hips swaying just so, and I trail after her eagerly. It’s not my problem…

Hey, watch out, here comes the cannonball!

I can’t tell you why I like Judas, I just do. Even though I’m the only one of us that does. Well, not counting Jesus, of course. Jesus likes him, Jesus likes everyone

—it’s in his nature to do so. But I honestly like Judas. Of course I do, or I wouldn’t let him do the things he does when we’re together. Not that it happens all the time.

Basically it’s when he’s in the mood, I guess, and when he decides he wants my company. Or my sex. I don’t push it, and it’s not like I’m in love with him or anything, or he with me. Everyone knows it’s the Master that Judas loves, that’s no secret. But still, I like being with him, in bed or out, and I don’t mind doing what he wants, such as giving out the pamphlets before I go on stage to sing.

I love to sing. I have to say this is one of the best incarnations ever, like nothing that came before. It feels different, too, in a way I can’t explain. Maybe part of it’s that people of this time are more open and understanding of homosexuals. Some of them are, anyway. You’d think that would please Judas, but for some reason it doesn’t. Maybe because of the gay marriage thing. They aren’t enlightened enough, most of them, particularly in the United States, to allow it.

Judas says they throw gays a bone by “allowing” them civil unions, like that’s supposed to pacify them. Here you go, he says, and he pretends like he’s throwing out imaginary dog bones, you can have this little sop to keep you going, even though we won’t allow you the rights that all human beings should have cause you’re not really human, are you, you’re gay? Quickest way to see Judas get mad is to bring up gay marriage. Well, second quickest. The fastest way is to tease him about the Master. Yes, they do it all the time, I admit it. But I don’t join in. I owe him that much loyalty, I think. But it’s not like they need me to encourage them.

Mary M eggs them on when she’s around. I like her, but I sometimes wish she wouldn’t rock the boat so much. All she does is piss him off, and then he’s impossible to talk to. So I generally leave him alone at those times. Whatever works, huh?

Like right now, for instance. Mary M just showed up unexpectedly. You’d think everyone would be happy, but I can see that Judas isn’t. Not that I’m surprised at that, either. She likes to aggravate him, and the others go along with her too much. I consider going to his side, at least stand there for support, but I don’t think he wants it. Not from me, anyway.

He and Jesus are fighting or something, I’m not close enough to really hear.

But suddenly they take off in different directions. I glance back at the pond.

Everyone’s going to go skinny-dipping with Mary M, and I’d like to, but I feel bad for Judas. I don’t know. Should I follow him, or stay here?

I consider the question for a minute, going back and forth between going and staying. Between talking to Judas and swimming with the others. Finally I take a deep breath, and I follow Judas. I may be sorry for this, but all I can do is try.

He’s inside the tent, probably doing last minute checks for tonight. What’s the worst that can happen? He can yell at me. Won’t be the first time.

I know better than to ask him what happened. I know he won’t tell me and he’ll just get mad that I asked. So I act like I didn’t see anything, which is mostly true, since I didn’t hear a word, and saw very little. I go to the table I’ll be sitting at, and put out some more brochures. I straighten up the ones that are there, racking my brain over what to say. Finally, I settle on asking a question. On a neutral subject.

“Do you think I should fan some of these out?” I indicate some of the pamphlets on the table with a wave of one hand. I know he knows I’m here, even if he hasn’t said a word. Yet.

“Yes. Do that. That’s a good idea.”

Well, at least he isn’t yelling at me. It’s a good start. He walks over and watches me as I fan them out so they’re easy to pick up. I sneak a quick peek at him. He’s staring at the table, but I don’t think he’s looking at it. I feel so sorry for Judas. I just want to help. I wish he’d let me. At least I think he trusts me a little bit, which is more than I can say for the others. But he has his reasons, and I respect them.

“Can I help with something?” I give him a moment before I ask. Part of me expects him to tell me to get the hell out, he doesn’t need any help. But he doesn’t.

He just nods. I wish he’d smile, he’s handsome when he smiles. He doesn’t do it near enough.

This is good, though. We work together, getting things ready and even though we aren’t speaking, we aren’t not speaking either. I can live with this, just being together, and being friends. That’s all I really want. Despite what the others say, he is a good man. Would Jesus love him if he weren’t?

Judas, why do you have to be so difficult? Why can’t you simply be happy with what we have? Why do you have to be this way?