argue with Mom. Instead, I simply asked, "What's next?" and I was informed "a trip to Greece," a supposed deathbed gift from my father.
Margaret looked at Matthew.
"She's sending him to Greece."
"Nothing scarier than a woman with a plan," Matthew replied while he waved his hand. "Come on, Margy. Keep reading."
"Okay already."
I was not happy with my deception. I did not like tricking my brother's followers. I was the "real" brother. Jesus was the bullshitter. I did not believe in supernatural things. And I knew my good-hearted brother could not have been the "Son of God." After all, Jesus could not even make a chair.
Five days after my visit to the apostles, I found myself in the port of Jaffa, awaiting my boarding instructions for my trip to Greece. I'd never seen anything like Jaffa before. It was crowded with people from several nearby countries. There were even blacks from Africa. They were scary. During my life, I had never ventured more than a few miles from my father's workshop, so I was nervous.
Eventually I found my vessel. It was a large sailing ship that sat one hundred passengers. To ensure on time arrivals and departures, both wind and slaves propelled the magnificent oak boat. At least one hundred oars were visible as the ship pulled up to its dock, where I was waiting to board.
Time being money, all departing customers were required to be present when the ship arrived to facilitate immediate boarding. If you were not present, you forfeited your seat, and you had zero chance of getting a refund. Accordingly, the dock was crowded when the ship's captain shouted out our boarding instructions. Departing passengers were told to disembark on the left side of the boarding ramp as we ascended to their right.
Being nervous about the trip and all the strangers, I kept my head down while I boarded the vessel. I was about halfway up the plank when a firm tap on my shoulder startled me. The crowd was sweeping me up the incline, so I did not have time to stop, but I clearly recognized the descending man who sought my attention. It was my older brother, Jesus.
I was stunned.
As I stumbled forward, Jesus smiled and waved his hand. He then tapped his heart with his forefingers, which he then pointed at me while mouthing the words, "Thanks, bro!"
– The Gospel According to Jessup
"The end?" Matthew asked.
Margaret sighed. "Yes, it is."
There was a long period of silence.
"You know, Jessup couldn't have made that up," Matthew said.
"Why not?" Margaret asked.
"It's too fantastic," Matthew said. "I believe him."
"So, are you telling me you believe Jesus is the Son of God?"
Matthew shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, I am. What about you, babe?"
"I'm not so sure anymore, Matthew. I'm not so sure."
###
About the Author
Wright Forbucks lives in a house located in Massachusetts. He writes comic fiction and invents things. He is married with three boys. His novels include, THE GENERAL STORE, THE WALKING MAN, EVEN STEVEN, and BILLY GRIST. To learn more about Wright Forbucks, and buy his books, visit www.wrightforbucks.com.
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