Chapter Two
As with most boys, our teen years were the most awkward and me and My Brother were no different to anyone else, in that respect. While the Temple now recognized us as men, we knew in our heart of hearts that we were far from being the men that we saw about town. First off, our dad and our uncles were strong hard working guys that never complained. They had plenty of reasons to complain, but it just seemed that they had reached a point in their lives that complaining just no longer made sense.
Secondly, were the Roman soldiers. Those fuckers were M-E-N. I shit you not, I peed once when one of them looked at me and I was 15 at the time.
Lastly, our sisters and girl cousins were different as they grew up. They seemed to go from girls to women over night and we noticed it and certainly the real men around us noticed it, but they made our situation worse by looking down on us like we were still little boys.
So, My Brother and I moped about the carpentry shop carrying and fetching, occasionally being asked to actually cut, pin or build something that when we were 6 we would have done anything to be allowed to do, but at the moment, we could not have cared less about doing. As teenagers working a crappy service job often do, My Brother and I would fantasize about alternative lives or more specifically how would we create an alternative life.
My Brother went through a period where he was angry that he wasn't born into the Levite tribe and therefore couldn't become a Rabbi. For some stupid reason, he seemed to think that he was born for the job of interpreting God's message to his chosen people. Theoretically, we were of David's line and therefore had access to kingship, but neither My Brother or the Empire seemed too keen on supporting Jim Christ on his quest of ruling the land of God.
We spent our days dodging as much work as possible and brainstorming ways for My Brother to become the Rabbi that he always wanted to be and for me to become a King of something, anything.
It was easier for me, because I convinced dad that I could sell furniture. I got lucky one late afternoon and sold some off spec chairs to a semi-blind guy for full price. After that, I carved out my "kingdom" as the family furniture salesman.
Clearly, My Brother was jealous. Sure, he'd say that he was motivated by his Father, but I know that it was me that gave him the focus that he needed to chase his impossible dream.
As we discussed how My Brother could become a Rabbi, we always came back to two fundamental problems. First, this was never going to happen inside the Temple or be sanctioned by the Temple authority and secondly, he'd have to make his own rules. I'm not exactly sure how this all started, but you know what it is like. You get some ideas in your head and the next thing you know, you are running down a path of no return.
Soon, My Brother was out of the house, living off of strangers and trying to be something that he wasn't allowed to be. You can imagine how happy mom and dad were?!
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Me and My Brother - a Short Story by Jim H Christ (Chapter Three)
Chapter Three
One day I am selling furniture off a donkey cart at the main intersection on the South end of town and I hear all of this commotion down over the hill.
I look down and I see, what I can only describe as a band of drunk Bedouins (incidentally Bedouins don't drink) coming up the road. You could hear them giggling and you could certainly tell by the odor wafting around that they hadn't washed in ages. As I stood aghast, watching this group of men, women, children and who knows what approach from a distance, a local woman skipped by and said, "Jesus is coming" beaming from ear to ear as if something miraculous was about to happen.
What?
I hadn't seem My Brother in 3 years and there were two things that I was most certain about my brother. First of all, he was never popular with anyone, especially women and second, he'd never have the guts to show his face around here again.
As I pondered the meaning of it all I noticed that these people appeared to be quite happy, as if on some sort of medicinal herb or something. The women, oh my sweet ......<lost for a word here> ... they actually looked pretty fine for have seemingly spent years in the wild.
Then I saw My Brother and he saw me. "James" he said smiling, "how's mom?".
I paused. "Oh she's great, but what is this all about?"
"Isn't it great?" says My Brother. "We all live and love together, put down your material things and join us, you will never have to worry again".
I was now 28 years old and had a nice furniture business. Dad was great about getting my brothers and sisters to make cheap furniture look good and I was smart enough to sell it to people that didn't know me, so things were working out pretty well. BUT, I did have worries. I had taxes to pay, two mouths to feed, thanks to that Sarah chick lying about when her period was and a couple of small gambling debts that I wasn't sure how to pay off.
Living and Loving and Not Worrying kind of sounded too good to be true. Then again it was My Brother and as irritating and odd as he was, he never lied to me. Not to mention that once all these babes found out I was his brother, then I am sure that I would Live and Love and Not Worry second best of the whole bunch.
The clearance sale started at that moment and by sundown I had sold all of the furniture and the cart. The stupid donkey had run off somewhere in all the fuss, but I was sure that I'd find him eventually.
One day I am selling furniture off a donkey cart at the main intersection on the South end of town and I hear all of this commotion down over the hill.
I look down and I see, what I can only describe as a band of drunk Bedouins (incidentally Bedouins don't drink) coming up the road. You could hear them giggling and you could certainly tell by the odor wafting around that they hadn't washed in ages. As I stood aghast, watching this group of men, women, children and who knows what approach from a distance, a local woman skipped by and said, "Jesus is coming" beaming from ear to ear as if something miraculous was about to happen.
What?
I hadn't seem My Brother in 3 years and there were two things that I was most certain about my brother. First of all, he was never popular with anyone, especially women and second, he'd never have the guts to show his face around here again.
As I pondered the meaning of it all I noticed that these people appeared to be quite happy, as if on some sort of medicinal herb or something. The women, oh my sweet ......<lost for a word here> ... they actually looked pretty fine for have seemingly spent years in the wild.
Then I saw My Brother and he saw me. "James" he said smiling, "how's mom?".
I paused. "Oh she's great, but what is this all about?"
"Isn't it great?" says My Brother. "We all live and love together, put down your material things and join us, you will never have to worry again".
I was now 28 years old and had a nice furniture business. Dad was great about getting my brothers and sisters to make cheap furniture look good and I was smart enough to sell it to people that didn't know me, so things were working out pretty well. BUT, I did have worries. I had taxes to pay, two mouths to feed, thanks to that Sarah chick lying about when her period was and a couple of small gambling debts that I wasn't sure how to pay off.
Living and Loving and Not Worrying kind of sounded too good to be true. Then again it was My Brother and as irritating and odd as he was, he never lied to me. Not to mention that once all these babes found out I was his brother, then I am sure that I would Live and Love and Not Worry second best of the whole bunch.
The clearance sale started at that moment and by sundown I had sold all of the furniture and the cart. The stupid donkey had run off somewhere in all the fuss, but I was sure that I'd find him eventually.
Me and My Brother - a Short Story by Jim H Christ (The Finale)
The Finale
Things were not as much fun as I had thought they would be and I was soon regretting my decision to leave the furniture business and join a radical religious sect.
Don't get me wrong, My Brother was not only awesome at his job and I did find myself at times feeling free of worry and just living my life and feeling loved. These moments of self well being were plenty enough for me to tough it out for almost a year.
However, the people that he hung out with were major weirdos. Mathew, Mark, Luke, John and Peter were especially irritating and frankly a bit full of themselves. There were some folks that I liked, people like Judas who seemed more down to earth. The girls, they were okay, but it turned out that they were inexperienced and clumsy. The only one with any real femanine charms was Mary M., but she only had eyes for My Brother.
I honestly didn't know that I had joined a "radical religious sect", those were the words of the Temple Priests and Rabbis and when I appeared before the court I made it clear that I was hoodwinked into the whole thing and would be happy to return to selling furniture any time they wanted to let me walk away from the whole thing.
Oddly they did. Apparently, everyone claimed to be My Brother's brother, so the whole idea of me saying that he was My Brother got lost on the ears of those in judgement of us. Clearly, this worked to my advantage. Sadly, My Brother just said one thing after the other and really started to piss the wrong people off. He challenged the religious authority and the Empire's authority. Lucky for him he had narcalepsy and bradicardia which made faking his death quite easy. Man, that was a close call.
The last time I saw My Brother he was limping away from the Garden as if someone had kicked him right in the balls. Mary was with him (Mary M. not our mom) and Thomas just stood there scratching his head. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Judas was so sad about the arrest that he hung himself, but somehow I thought he knew anyway.
I often wonder what ever happened to My Brother and if I will see him again. I wonder where his devotees went and how they channeled their zeal for what My Brother meant to them. I suppose that nothing much really became of it, after all I mostly remember us as just two teenage kids working in a carpenter's shop.
Things were not as much fun as I had thought they would be and I was soon regretting my decision to leave the furniture business and join a radical religious sect.
Don't get me wrong, My Brother was not only awesome at his job and I did find myself at times feeling free of worry and just living my life and feeling loved. These moments of self well being were plenty enough for me to tough it out for almost a year.
However, the people that he hung out with were major weirdos. Mathew, Mark, Luke, John and Peter were especially irritating and frankly a bit full of themselves. There were some folks that I liked, people like Judas who seemed more down to earth. The girls, they were okay, but it turned out that they were inexperienced and clumsy. The only one with any real femanine charms was Mary M., but she only had eyes for My Brother.
I honestly didn't know that I had joined a "radical religious sect", those were the words of the Temple Priests and Rabbis and when I appeared before the court I made it clear that I was hoodwinked into the whole thing and would be happy to return to selling furniture any time they wanted to let me walk away from the whole thing.
Oddly they did. Apparently, everyone claimed to be My Brother's brother, so the whole idea of me saying that he was My Brother got lost on the ears of those in judgement of us. Clearly, this worked to my advantage. Sadly, My Brother just said one thing after the other and really started to piss the wrong people off. He challenged the religious authority and the Empire's authority. Lucky for him he had narcalepsy and bradicardia which made faking his death quite easy. Man, that was a close call.
The last time I saw My Brother he was limping away from the Garden as if someone had kicked him right in the balls. Mary was with him (Mary M. not our mom) and Thomas just stood there scratching his head. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Judas was so sad about the arrest that he hung himself, but somehow I thought he knew anyway.
I often wonder what ever happened to My Brother and if I will see him again. I wonder where his devotees went and how they channeled their zeal for what My Brother meant to them. I suppose that nothing much really became of it, after all I mostly remember us as just two teenage kids working in a carpenter's shop.
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