2 The Judas Kiss (16 page)

             
“We should check near the docks,” I said after a moment.  “It’s late, I’m still hungry, and there are a ton of things to do down there.  Maybe he got distracted.”

             
“Yeshua would never venture by the docks,” Yehuda said, sounding affronted.  “We’ve always been warned away from there.”

             
“Warned of what?” I asked, and when he hesitated in following me, I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him along at a slow trot.  “I go there all the time.”

             
“That’s easy for you, a
Roman
,” he said, and then his cheeks burned red with shame.  “I’m sorry,” he amended quickly.

             
I stopped, staring at him with hard eyes.  He was taller than me, but I tried to do my best to mimic my grandfather when he was being commanding.  “Why are you afraid of me?”

             
Yehuda took a small step back and shook his head.  “My parents brought us here when we were babies,” he said.  “There was a rumor that the King in Jerusalem ordered all newborn boys to be killed.  Twins don’t happen a lot, my mother was terrified that Herod would take it as a sign.  So we left.  Alexandria has been kind to my family,” he continued.

             
“You’re Hebrews?” I asked.

             
“Yes,” he affirmed with a nod.  “In Rome, in Jerusalem, my father tells me that we’re slaves.”

             
“My servants are Hebrews,” I mused, scratching my chin.  “But mother takes good care of them.”

             
Yehuda bowed his head.  “They would execute me on your word, you know.”

             
“They?  They who?”

             
“They the Romans,” Yehuda said very quietly.  “I thought for sure you’d turn me over when I knocked you down.”

             
Listening to this pained me.  To have this boy terrified of a kid younger and smaller than him, simply on a rumor hurt.  To have him believe that my people were monsters… it was a lot to take in.  I found myself so separate from his culture despite being partly born of them, and it stung.  I could have been like him.  Half of me
was
; half of me belonged to the Hebrews by blood, and I found myself seething with jealousy that I fundamentally couldn’t understand his fear of my Roman standing.

             
“No one will harm you, or your brother.  I vow it,” I said, putting my hand over my heart. 

             
He shook his head, giving me a sad smile.  “I don’t think it’s so easy.”

             
“People listen to me,” I insisted.  “I’m supposed to become a senator one day, and even my grandfather respects me.”

             
He gave me a patronizing look and sighed.  “I appreciate your help, but I have to find my brother.”

             
Standing firm in my resolve, I reached out and put my hand in his.  “We’ll find him together.  Let’s check the docks, and I swear if he’s not there, I will call on soldiers to sweep the city streets.”

             
He paled and shook his head.  “Not the soldiers.  Please.”

             
“My servants, then,” I said, and with that, I tugged him along, determined to prove that I was no one to fear, that I could be like him, that there was a part of me that could understand.

             
As we reached the harbor, several ships had docked and massive carts of food, animals, and spices were tumbling onto land.  Vendors were all around, shouting prices, shaking bags of exotic nuts and treats in our faces. 

             
Yehuda looked absolutely petrified by the throng of people, but I kept a firm hand on him as I purchased several bags of fruit and spiced nuts to try.  He refused the offer of food at first, and I could tell he was overwhelmed by the entire scene.

             
It was true, the docks were far too crowded to find one young boy, but I wanted Yehuda to relax.  There was something about him I liked, and truthfully, I’d never really had a friend before.  My servants often had children I could play with, but none of them interested me in the way this boy did.  I wanted to understand his life, but I also wanted him to understand mine.

             
Luckily I knew the docks well, and I managed to drag him down an alley and up a set of stairs to a large stone block that overlooked the water.  The noise below was muted up there, the people milling around like ants, carting their wares, making deals, arguing and smiling.

             
Yehuda visibly calmed after a few minutes, and before long the two of us sat up there, our legs dangling over, passing the bag of spiced nuts between us.  I caught him staring out at the water mostly, looking off into the horizon were boats sailed and the sun’s heavy light reflected off of the waves.  He looked peaceful, finally, the pressure to find his brother momentarily relieved.

             
“I’ve never tasted anything like this before,” he said, turning one of the nuts over in his palm.  “Do you know what it is?”

             
“No,” I said and laughed.  “Sometimes I take food, just to taste it.  I want to taste everything!  I want to read everything, and know everything!  My mother thinks I’m mad, but I don’t care.  One day I will be one of the great thinkers in the library, and everyone will read my scrolls on the gods, and philosophy and poetry.”

             
He smiled at me, his head bowed slightly.  “That won’t be me, but at least I can look up and say that I knew you for a day.”

             
“A day?”  I shook my head and crossed my arms.  “We’re going to be friends forever, you know.”

             
“They’ll never let someone like me inside the library,” he said, shaking his head.

             
“Can you read?” I asked.

             
“A little.  We’re carpenters, my family.  My brothers and I work with my father and we do okay.  Father’s work is good, and he says that Yaakov, my younger brother, and I work like him.”

             
“What about your twin?  Yeshua, you said his name was?”

             
Yehuda gave a soft sigh and looked back out onto the water.  “Mother and Father don’t know that I know, but they’re hiding him from something.”

             
I frowned.  “From what?”

             
He hesitated, so I reached out and touched his shoulder to reassure him.  “There were men.  From the East.  They think my brother has something special about him.”

             
“From the East?”

             
“I don’t really know a lot,” Yehuda said quietly.  He looked over at my hand still resting on his shoulder and he took a deep breath.  “I heard them talking one night when they thought I was asleep.  Mother talked about men who came to find her, find us, when we were just born.  She said they brought strange gifts and said that the second born twin was a soul reborn and they wanted to take him.  I don’t think they wanted him then, but mother and father are terrified that they’re coming for him soon.  When he disappears like this, they go into a panic.”

             
“That’s interesting, I’ve never heard of anything like that,” I said.  I stood up, pulling Yehuda up with me.  Pocketing the rest of the food, I grabbed his sleeve and directed him down the building once more.  “It sounds serious.  I think we had better find him.  Just in case.”

             
We turned away from the docks, but when Yehuda saw we were heading in the direction of where my house lay, he stopped me.  “I’m not allowed to go there,” he said.

             
I lived in an all-Roman area, and as diverse as Alexandria was, there wasn’t a lot of diversity in my streets.  However, there were servants, and never had I seen any occupant of Alexandria mistreated, regardless of the places they strolled.

             
“I swear it, you’re under my protection.  If they take you, I’ll offer my life in place of yours,” I vowed, meaning every word.

             
Yehuda still hesitated when I tried to pull him along.  “I don’t think this is a good idea.  My parents don’t let me go into this area.”

             
“Alexandria is huge, and we have to check everywhere, don’t we?” I pressed.  He gave a short sigh and I started to pull him along again.

             
We didn’t get far down the road before I saw him, the boy crouched near a tall building.  I stared with wide eyes at him, taking in every inch of the identical features that he shared with my new friend.  It was strange for me, having not met a twin before, looking between Yehuda and Yeshua.

             
It took me a moment to realize that something wasn’t right with the boy near the wall.  He was slumped, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was hard and ragged.  Yehuda noticed him just after I did, and together we bolted across the street, dropping to our knees by his side.

             
“Oh no,” Yehuda gasped, putting his hand on his brother’s.

             
I touched Yeshua’s face and forehead, mimicking how I’d seen my mother treated when she was ill.  Her skin had been dry, burning to the touch, and she was pale.  Yehuda’s skin was wet, clammy, cold beneath my fingers, and his body was trembling.  His cheeks were rosy, and the skin around his eyes was dark.

             
“We have to get him out of the street,” I said swiftly.  “My house is close, we can bring him there and you can fetch your parents.”

             
“Oh no, no,” Yehuda moaned.  “I can’t let him be brought to your home.”

             
“There’s nothing execution worthy about taking a sick boy to a Roman house,” I said, my voice commanding.  I didn’t have the slightest clue what was wrong with the boy, but letting him lie in the street wasn’t going to do any good.  I turned and saw a few of the servants walking by, not from my house, but I knew them from a fellow neighbor all the same.

             
I stood, pointing my finger at them and calling out for them to stop.  “This boy needs help!  You two pick him up and take him to my home.”

             
The servants, two young men, looked irritated, but didn’t question me as I commanded them.  Yehuda watched, fretting and nearly sick as the young men lifted his brother carefully and started towards the walls of my home.

             
“He’s going to be okay,” I said quietly as we trotted quickly behind.  I put my hand in Yehuda’s and squeezed it.  “You go get your parents while I make sure your brother gets treated.  There are people here who can help him, I promise.”

             
Yehuda looked more petrified than I could really comprehend, but he complied, squeezing my hand once, very firmly, before running off.  I followed the servants through the gate and into the main room where they lay the boy on one of my mother’s sofas.  He gave a small grunt but his eyes didn’t open as his head flopped to the side.

             
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” I asked the perplexed men.

             
“No, sir,” one answered me.

             
I fished out a few coins and paid them for their trouble, as I’d seen my mother do, and I felt more like the head of the house than I ever had. 

             
It only took a few moments for several of our house servants to come into the room and at my command, they began examining the boy, trying to make him comfortable.  One servant pressed some wine to his lips, and after a moment, Yeshua drank.  He seemed to be coming to, and I felt an immediate sense of relief.  I liked Yehuda, and the last thing I wanted was for his brother to die on my watch.

             
The boy on the couch groaned a little and I darted forward, pushing the servants to the side.  His eyes fluttered open and he looked confused, groaning as he tried to sit up.

             
“Stay down,” I commanded, putting my hand on his chest.

             
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice slurred.  He looked around, his eyes looking unfocused, and then his gaze settled on me.

             
“My name is Markus,” I said softly.  “Your brother is fetching your parents.”

             
At the mention of his parents, his eyes widened and he struggled to sit up.  “Oh.  Oh no,” he moaned.

             
“What happened to you?” I asked, squinting at him in an attempt to find some physical reason for his condition.

             
“I don’t know,” he moaned.  “One moment I was at the market, the next moment… here.”

             
I frowned.  The market was quite a ways away, so the idea that he’d made it from there to the wall near my home without remembering was strange.  Still, I had no reason to doubt him, and he seemed more frightened and concerned than anything.