Page 11 of Dark Resurrection


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  After sundown, they checked out, almost immediately finding a pair of his enemies, sating their hunger pangs. After robbing and disposing of the remains, they made their way to his parent’s home. Walking along the street, they observed people going about their businesses, none recognizing the risen Son of Man. Arriving at the house, Jesus knocked on the door. His mother answered, recognized him and collapsed in his arms in a dead faint. Joseph saw him and while shaken, simply sat down in a padded chair while they entered, Jesus placing his unconscious mother on a couch and his satchel on the floor.

  After a few moments, his mother regained consciousness and exclaimed, “You have risen!”

  “In a way,” said Jesus.

  “Uh, how are you son?” asked Joseph, not believing his eyes.

  “I’m fine; a lot has happened since I last saw you.”

  “You sure have developed a talent for understatements,” his consort observed.

  “Really,” agreed Joseph.

  “You’ve returned from the dead,” said his mother, regaining her composure and sitting up on the couch. “We should worship you, you said you would rise, and must truly be the Son of God.”

  “I don’t know about that anymore,” said Jesus. “If I were you I’d forget about the stuff I told you and stick with Hebraic monotheism, or something like that.”

  “Why?” asked Joseph, staring at his undead son with his head to one side, narrowing his blue-gray eyes, his eye color the same as his firstborn.

  “Um, because, I uh, well, things have changed, and not necessarily for the better, at least with regard to most people I’ve encountered recently.”

  “What do you mean?” his mother asked, sensing that her son was having trouble relating what he had to tell them.

  The room fell silent, Jesus Christ at a rare loss for words.

  “Well, Jesus?” asked the Magdalene, giggling.

  “I don’t think I’m God anymore,” said Jesus.

  “Or any less,” the Magdalene retorted, bursting into laughter.

  “That’s great, really great,” Joseph spat, rising from his chair and folding arms over his chest. “After all the shit your mother and I have been through in the past few months, not to mention your precocious childhood and that ministry of yours, you come back here and tell us this? Get on with it, if you’re not God and you rose from the dead, what the hell are you?”

  “I am a vampire.”

  His mother’s jaw dropped. Joseph stared at his eldest in disgust and said, “That figures, I knew it was too damn good to be true!”

  “Oh Jesus,” said his mother, “You’re a vampire? My God, what will I tell your brothers and sisters?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jesus, “Perhaps you shouldn’t tell them anything.”

  “That’s the truth,” said a frowning Joseph, “That’s all we’d need, we’ve had enough problems already from the Pharisees and the stupid Romans. I don’t believe this, you’ve become a vampire? Shit, that really tears it!”

  Jesus, realizing he hadn’t introduced the Magdalene, offered politely, “This is my friend, Mary the Magdalene, she was a follower of mine hailing from Magdala.”

  “I suppose she’s a vampire too?” asked Joseph.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  Joseph threw his hands up and cried, “I should have known, why did I even ask?”

  “At least they haven’t tried to destroy us yet,” the Magdalene observed between stifled giggles.

  After they had absorbed the incredible news, Joseph and Mary invited their son and his consort to spend the evening with them. Jesus’ mother headed to the kitchen to serve supper, as Joseph, Jesus and the Magdalene followed to the dining area.

  “I’d offer you dinner, but we don’t have blood!” Joseph spat, sitting down at the table.

  “Don’t worry father, we had someone to eat before we came here,” said Jesus, taking a seat.

  “Someone!” exclaimed Joseph, staring at him in astonishment, “I swear, you’ve always been weird, but this takes the cake!”

  Jesus’ mother entered, placing an earthenware serving bowl and two smaller ones on the table.

  “Guess what Mary, I told them we had no blood in our larder, and your son said they had already had someone to eat before they arrived,” said Joseph, Mary handing him a wooden spoon and sitting down.

  “We both had someone father.”

  “Whatever,” retorted Joseph, eating a simple dinner of bread and a pottage of lentils cooked in meat broth, seasoned with onions and garlic.

  The conversation continued for a time, Joseph making sarcastic remarks, as the thought of his eldest son being a vampire was rather unsettling. His mother seemed to accept this fact after the initial shock and quietly conversed with them.

  “So, your friend Mary is also a vampire, that’s very interesting,” said his mother.

  “Yes mother, she came to my grave one evening and I made her a vampire outside the tomb.”

  “Oh for God’s sake!” exclaimed Joseph, slamming his spoon down and rising from the table. “This is ridiculous, I need air!”

  “What’s wrong father?” asked an oblivious Jesus.

  “A lot is wrong; I’m heading to the courtyard. After you’re finished talking with your mother I’d like to speak with you privately,” answered Joseph, leaning on the table with both hands.

  “Velly vell father,” said Jesus in his vampiric accent, troubled by his father’s remarks.

  “Velly vell – what the hell’s wrong with your voice?”

  “It’s a long story dad,” said Jesus, disguising his voice while stroking his beard.

  Joseph left the kitchen as his mother said, “Please don’t worry Jesus, even though you’re a vampire, your father and I still love you.”

  “Yeah, thanks ma,” said a weakly smiling Jesus.

  After his mother finished supper, Jesus left her and the Magdalene. He walked to the courtyard, his sandals making a scuffing sound on the flagstones, where Joseph was relaxing by oil lamp in a chair, enjoying the cool night. He was drinking fruit juice instead of his usual evening wine, feeling the need to be clear headed for the conversation he was going to have with his undead firstborn son.

  “Please sit down,” said Joseph, waving to a chair next to him. Jesus took a seat, his father continuing, “We need to talk about this new situation of yours.”

  “We do?” asked Jesus, wondering if his father had finally had enough and was going to ask him to leave the family forever.

  “Yes,” said Joseph, eyeing Jesus in exasperation, “I don’t believe this, first, you agitate so many people in this town that you end up having to leave, then you piss off so many people in Jerusalem that you manage to get yourself killed. That was bad enough, now you return, as a vampire! What the hell happened, and don’t tell me it was some sort of miracle, I’m not going to buy that at all.”

  “I don’t know, when I awoke in the sepulchre I had become a vampire.”

  “How? There’s nothing in any scriptural prophecy I’ve ever read stating that you, or anyone else for that matter, would become a vampire. Not that I’ve ever given much credence to those writings, but –”

  “I really don’t know father, perhaps people should forget about what I preached. I mean, since I was crucified, I’ve honestly wondered if there even is a God.”

  “I agree with you there,” said Joseph, taking a sip of juice, “Especially with society the way it is today. Who knows, maybe God’s disgusted and has finally given up on us.”

  “I wouldn’t be a damn bit surprised,” Jesus replied, turning from his father and looking to small herb garden his mother had planted.

  A frowning Joseph finished his juice and thought, Perhaps I should have had something stronger, watching his undead offspring look to the heavens. Bot
h were quiet for a while, Joseph breaking the silence by asking, “You and the girl, you kill people and suck their blood, right?”

  “Yes father, we have to, and I try to take only those who have crossed me, or lately, have tried to rob us.”

  “Really, I suppose that’s somewhat commendable; you came back here to take revenge upon your enemies, correct?”

  “Yes, but I also came to visit you and mother,” said Jesus, turning to his father.

  “That’s nice,” Joseph retorted, gripping his cup, “I imagine you intend to kill half this town during your visit?”

  “It has crossed my mind, probably more than half actually.”

  “I don’t blame you, the people here are a bunch of bastards,” said a frowning Joseph, looking to his empty cup. “Frankly, I’ve never liked them; most are deadbeats who owe me money for carpentry work. I don’t even care if you kill them all, just leave your mother and I out of it.”

  “You don’t care?” asked Jesus, surprised at his father’s literal endorsement of death for the entire town.

  “Hell no, I’m well over fifty and too damn old to care, but your mother, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to understand such things. So, if you decide to hang around, at least be discrete in your killings, after all, a lack of discretion is what got you killed in the first place.”

  “I intend to, a friend named Decius Publius told us leaving bodies all over the place is the reason we had to leave Jerusalem.”

  “So, who’s Decius, another vampire, or a Roman werewolf?” asked a smirking Joseph, closing eyes as if in pain.

  “He’s the centurion who nailed me to the cross.”

  “A friend crucified you? What did you do to him to make him do that?” asked Joseph, opening his eyes and sitting up straight in his chair, his back making an audible crack.

  “He wasn’t a friend at the time, we befriended him after I became a vampire.”

  “Oh,” Joseph replied, leaning back in his chair.

  “Thank you for understanding father,” said a polite Jesus, as if he were still a boy.

  “Don’t mention it, and it’s not that I truly understand you son, or anything else for that matter.”

  “Really?” asked Jesus, needing clarification.

  “Really,” said Joseph, “Incidentally, I think after all you’ve been through, you’ve found out there’s a lot we don’t understand about almost everything.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jesus, interested in his father’s philosophy.

  “Well,” said Joseph, waving hands as if encompassing the world, “Like why are we even here in the first place, and why are we always bothered by weirdos who cause nothing but trouble for everyone, like the Pharisees and the Romans. Or, what exactly is this place called earth, and what is the floating disk up there we call the moon, and just what are all those lights twinkling in the sky on a clear night? Get it?”

  “Yes,” Jesus answered, remembering his cynical father was also a very wise man.

  “Anyway, that’s a damn good-looking girl you have at your side, you said she was one of your followers?”

  “I met her walking the streets of Magdala. She used to be a whore.”

  “A streetwalker, that figures,” said Joseph, wondering if his son had ever done anything not out of the ordinary.

  “She’s not a whore anymore.”

  “No, now she’s a vampire, thanks to you!”

  “She’s very good company.”

  “That’s good,” said Joseph, resting his chin in the palm of a hand, “Your mother and I had been worried about that, after all, you are thirty-three, and haven’t exactly had too many women hanging around, if you know what I mean by that.”

  “Others have thought that too, in fact, a pimp at a brothel thought – ”

  “What did you expect, surrounding yourself with men?”

  “I see what you mean.”

  All became quiet while Joseph and Jesus sat silently, lost in their own thoughts.

  “It’s said that vampires are endowed with great powers,” said Joseph, breaking the silence.

  “That’s true father.”

  “So, they’d best not cross you now, should they?” asked Joseph, rising from his seat.

  “I suppose not.”

 
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