He could not find her. The people burring on, each intent on his own special interest. Most were adults; some were children. Paul saw a childlike form moving away from him, down the hall toward the exit. He ran after her. "Carolyn!"
The girl turned. It was a stranger-child, staring curiously at him. Embarrassed, Paul rushed on past her, as though he had called to someone beyond. But now he was at the great exit door. Beyond was the busy city street, its cars, buses, and vans zooming by, perilously close. Had she gone out there?
He pushed on out, his eyes casting desperately about. She was not here. "Carolyn!" he cried despairingly.
Maybe she had gone into a lady's room. Yes—she had never been able to pass a water fountain or a bathroom without indulging herself of its facilities. She had been that way ever since she first learned what they were for at about the age of two. She must have dodged aside and entered the room while he rushed heedlessly ahead. Then she might have been unable to open the heavy door from inside.
He backtracked, locating a bathroom. He was concerned that someone inside might—sometimes perverts lurked for little girls—no! But he couldn't go into the Lady's Room to check by himself.
A young woman approached. "Miss," he said abruptly. "Would you—" He faltered under her stare. She turned abruptly and departed.
"Carolyn!" he cried loudly. "Are you in there?"
There was no answer. He had no certainty she was in this particular facility; there must be dozens of them in this huge complex. How could he check them all?
An official-looking man approached purposefully. Paul knew the woman had complained; now he would be arrested for indecent behavior. He moved away.
Footfalls followed him. Paul hurried; if he got arrested now, he would never find his daughter! Already horrible specters were forming in his mind; if anything happened to her—"
She had been worried about him that night at the college. Now he knew exactly what she had gone through.
He was at the exit again. Was that her out by the street looking for him? "Carolyn?" he cried, pushing out.
The little girl stepped off the curb. A horn blared; tires screeched.
"CAROLYN!" Paul screamed, lurching forward.
There was a crash.
VII
Honor: 15
Much of the ancient interpretation of Mosaic laws—indeed, the necessity for laws in the first place—was based on the need for larger and stronger tribes. The rule that women were to be considered unclean and untouchable during the five days of menstruation and for seven days afterwards (Leviticus 15) was undoubtedly based on the fact that these twelve days were (and are) generally considered to be unfavorable for conception; man should not, therefore, waste his sperm lest he be punished by God for not adding to the strength of his tribe. It also appears that the laws prohibiting bestiality and homosexuality, and the judgment that such sexual acts among men were considered to be much more reprehensible than if women were the participants, were based on the need not to waste precious sperm and thereby perhaps impede tribal growth. Since there is no loss of sperm in lesbianism, no such rigid prohibition against it developed as they did concerning homosexuality...
Contrary to common belief, Jesus Christ himself taught very little on the subject of sex. The vast majority of sexual proscriptions associated with and attributed to Christianity are actually outgrowths of the thought and writings of later Christian theologicians, and most of this moral theology was not actually propounded until long after Christ's death. Paul was probably the first Christian to speak out specifically on sexual morality. He emphasized the need for marriage as a means to avoid fornication, although he apparently considered sexual abstinence a more admirable goal in life (I Corinthians 6 and 7). The writings of St. Augustine during the 4th century A.D. have probably had as much impact upon prevailing 20th-century sexual attitudes as any other single force, in that he severely condemned premarital and extramarital sexual outlets, including beastiality, homosexuality, and especially masturbation. The Roman Catholic Church in time came to idealize celibacy, with the highest level of male achievement being total rejection of all life's pleasures, while women could expect to reach their greatest glory only through permanent virginity.
—James L. McCary: Human Sexuality, New York: Van Nostrand, 1967.
Therion sat on top of a huge Bible. Even lying flat, the book was about a meter thick and four meters long.
"So you are back," the acolyte of the Horned God remarked. "Vacation's over, eh?"
What had happened to Carolyn? Brother Paul was unmarried and had no daughter; he was sure of that now. So she could not have been lost. Yet he was also sure of Carolyn's reality. In that time, ten years in his future...
Well, he would have to worry about his future when he got closer to it. "What is your concern?" he asked the man. Therion of course was teasing him since Therion had had a part in the recent sequence.
"You looked at other religions and other philosophies, including your idea of an educational institution, and found them wanting," Therion said. "By elimination, you are choosing the Christian God. But do you have the courage to view your Jesus and his cult as skeptically as you view the others?"
A grim but valid challenge. "I must be fair," Brother Paul agreed.
"Even though your Son of God was an arrant sexist?"
"What?" Brother Paul demanded, irritated.
"He dealt with men. He went to his cousin John the Baptist for the start of his ministry and gathered about him twelve men for disciples. Why no women? Didn't he think they were children of God too? Or were they just the servant class, not to be taken seriously?"
"Of course not!" Brother Paul snapped. But then he paused. Why hadn't there been some female disciples? "You have to understand: in those times the whole culture relegated women to a restricted status, especially in religious matters."
"In Christian realms," Therion said. "Not among the Pagans. The Horned God welcomed women. The temples abounded with priestesses, and they were completely uninhibited."
All too true. To Therion, the ultimate fulfillment of a woman was as a Temple prostitute or madam, a seducer of men. No use arguing that case. "Jesus was a Jew. He was not free to flout the established conventions of his people. He would have been mobbed much earlier than he was if he had female disciples, and his message would never have reached its audience." Those who preached a message whose time had not yet come always suffered; Paul had felt that backlash himself when he defended the free association of boys and girls at college. How well he understood! "Circumstances forced him to—"
"To preach salvation for men, not for women," the other finished snidely.
"Jesus did honor women!" Brother Paul said. "Some of them were missionaries for him—"
Therion sneered his best sneer. "Such as?"
"Such as the woman of the well!" Brother Paul said. "She told of Jesus among the Samaritans and brought her relatives and friends to see him, and there were many converts—"
"The woman at the well," Therion repeated, as though that were a suggestively curious example. "You really think that proves anything?"
"Yes! It's right there in the Bible!"
Therion jumped down from the Bible. "Then take a look inside your own Good Book—between the lines." He heaved the cover up like the lid of a coffin. The pages flipped over by themselves, past the Old Testament, slowing in the New Testament. Matthew... Mark... Luke... John. Chapters 1... 2... 3... 4.
" 'Now Jesus left Judea, and came again to Galilee,' " Therion read aloud with exaggerated emphasis. Around the Bible the landscape of that time and place formed. At first the scene was distant as if seen from an airplane—No, not that!—then it steadied. It was as though the cameras were being dollied along by a truck driving along a country road, the huge Bible being that truck. There was a field and a well.
"He had to go through Samaria," Therion continued as the camera oriented on that well. The giant open Bible faded out, becoming the built-up stone
. " 'He approached a city called Sychar, near to a field Jacob had given to his son Joseph, and Jacob's well was there.' "
"Yes," Brother Paul said. He was confident that when it came to quoting excerpts from the Christian Bible, he could match any challenge made by this man. "That's the passage. The Samaritans were mixed people from many eastern lands, settled in Israel by the Assyrians after the Israelites were carried away. They brought in their own forms of worship, but when they suffered plagues they converted to Judaism, intermarried with Jews, and claimed descent from Abraham and Moses. This annoyed the regular Jews, and relations between the two cultures became bad. So it was quite significant when Jesus met a Samaritan woman and converted her though she was of ill repute, forgiving her her sins—"
"Or so the expurgated text would have us believe,"
Therion said. "Those Samaritans were eager to gain acceptance by Jews any way they could. Watch what really happened."
From the field a man came, dressed in a flowing off-white tunic bound by a dusty blue sash. The amount of material was necessary to ward off the burning sun. He was bearded and wore a flap of material over his head though his face shone with sweat. He was familiar in a strange double sense. "Lee!" Brother Paul cried, then covered his mouth.
"Do not be concerned," Therion said. "He is locked into his role; he can not escape it, no matter how it annoys him, until we release him from the script. You and I can not be perceived by any but ourselves; we are as ghosts."
That was only part of Brother Paul's concern. If the role could be forced on an individual by others in the Animation, while the person thought it was his own will—then Animation was potentially a horror unmatched in the annals of man!
Then another facet struck him. "Lee—as Jesus?" he asked, amazed.
"Why the hell not? It's only a part in a skit, and we need an actor. He knew it when he signed on."
Knew that he might be subject to horrendous indignities, even the loss of his life. Yes. Brother Paul had known the same. Nevertheless, Animation was opening disquieting doors to him. For now, it seemed best to let Therion present his case.
Jesus was grimy and tired; this showed in his slow gait and general demeanor. He came up to the well and sat down on the low wall beside it. This was a pleasant enough place, really an oasis, walled in to protect it from blowing debris and polluted runoff from storms, but with green vines overgrowing the walls. The city it served was visible in the distance; steps led up from the depression the well was in, and a well-worn path meandered toward the city. Brother Paul wondered why the well had not been situated nearer the city or vice versa; but he knew there would be many complicating factors, such as the lay of the land, the most fertile fields, the intersections of roads, and just plain ornery tradition. No doubt the women got good exercise, carrying their heavy jugs of water across that distance every day.
Jesus rested beside the well with evident relief. Soon, however, his tongue ran over dry lips; he was thirsty. He stood, crossed to the stone edge of the well, and leaned over to peer into it. The water was too far down to reach directly. There was a rope, but no bucket. Unless he wanted to jump in—which would be foolish, since he would be unable to climb out again (thirst vs. survival)—there was no way for him to fetch up water. Resigned, he returned to the other wall and sat again.
The sun bore down from almost directly overhead. Jesus sat alone, eyes downcast, his tongue playing again over cracking lips. "His disciples have gone into the city to buy food," Therion explained.
Now a woman came to the well, carrying her water jar: a large earthern crock with twin curving handles, shaped with archaic artistry. She was young and resembled her jug in the esthetics of her outline. She wore a faded blue skirt and a brown shawl tied in front like a halter for her full bosom, and her kerchief descended from her head to fall over one shoulder in front to her waist. Her dainty feet were protected by half-sandals, hardly more than straps about heel and sole, leaving her toes free. Woman of ill repute she might be, but an extremely fetching one. Of course, it was much easier for a homely woman to be of good repute; temptation did not constantly come courting.
"Amaranth," Brother Paul murmured. Every Animation scene was different, but the basic cast of characters was constant. But Amaranth would not be able to indulge her normal siren role here!
The woman trotted bouncily down the steps, glanced fleetingly at Jesus, and promptly ignored him. She stopped at the well, picked up the loose rope, strung it through an eyelet of her jar, and lowered the jar carefully its distance to the water. The sound of gurgling became loud as the air bubbled out.
Jesus emerged from his reverie. "Please give me a drink of water," he said.
Surprised, the woman looked directly at him. "Aren't you a Jew? From Galilee?" A person's accent and garb made him readily identifiable, geographically and culturally.
Jesus nodded. "Jews also thirst, even those from Galilee."
"You, a Jew, ask a Samaritan woman for a drink? Your people and ours have no dealings." Yet, vaguely flattered, she drew up the full jug and passed it to him. The hospitality of water was fundamental to this arid region.
Jesus drank deeply. At last he returned the jug, wiping moisture off his beard with his sleeve. "If you only knew the gift of God and who it is who asked you for a drink, you would have asked him for living water."
"What a come-on!" Therion remarked appreciatively. "Just like that he's hooked her curiosity. He'd make a good carnival barker."
Brother Paul repressed his reaction, knowing that Therion was baiting him.
The woman of the well smiled tolerantly as she lowered her jug to refill it. "You have no jug and no deep well; where would you get 'living water'? Do you think you're greater than Jacob who gave us this well?"
Jesus, refreshed by his rest and drink, smiled back. "Everyone who drinks of the water of this well will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water I give him will never thirst again."
She set down her brimming jug and untied the rope. "All right, I'll bite, Jew: give me some of this living water."
Jesus lowered his hand to his own midsection, outlining through the cloth what rose up there. "What about your husband?"
Her eyes widened momentarily as she comprehended the nature of his offer. "I have no husband."
"Well spoken," Jesus agreed, taking her by the elbows and drawing her in to him. "You've had many husbands in your time, each only for a night. Now you may have one for a day."
She glanced about, making sure that no one was approaching the well from the city. "I see you are a prophet." She raised her lips for a kiss.
"Woman, believe me, the time is coming—"
"That's not all that's—"
Brother Paul could stand it no longer. "Stop it!" he cried. "This—this is appalling!"
"But you haven't seen the best part," Therion protested with mock innocence. "Wait till you see the Divine Erection. He really socks the Holy Ghost to her till she overflows with—"
"Jesus never fornicated with women! He—"
Therion frowned. "So you can't face the expurgated pages of your Bible? Where is your open mind?"
Flustered, Brother Paul had to take a moment to organize his thoughts. "There is a distinction between open-mindedness and sacrilegious pornography. I just don't believe Jesus would do such a thing! The 'Living Water' he referred to was the Holy Spirit. For you to distort that into a lascivious connection—"
"You don't concede the possibility that Jesus might have had a normal interest in the opposite sex?" Therion inquired evenly. "That he might be tempted on occasion to dally with a good-looking, lower-class woman who showed him some kindness? Not a Jewish woman, of coarse; that would be crass. But the Samaritans were not in the same class. Being a prophet is hard work; he had to take a break sometime."
"No!" Brother Paul cried, closing his mind to the superficial reasonableness of Therion's argument. He knew what this man's route led to! "There's no evidence in all the Bible that Jesus ever ha
d sexual relations with a woman!"
Therion smiled nastily. "A very interesting qualification. Verrry interesting! You are implying he had sexual relations with a man!"
"No! I—" But Brother Paul knew he had plunged into another trap foolishly. It was not as though he had no hint of the proclivities of this worshiper of the Devil.
Therion closed the jaws inexorably. "As you have established, Jesus never touched women sexually. Had the Samaritan woman at the well proffered her charms, he would have cast her aside and never bothered to make converts from the Samaritans. Therefore, he must have vented his natural passions on those with whom he felt greater kinship. And indeed your Bible establishes that—"
"Impossible!" Brother Paul cried.
The huge pages flipped over again to the eleventh chapter of John, and the picture formed. "Now there was a man who was sick, the Brother of Mary, who had anointed Jesus' feet with oil and wiped them with her hair, and been forgiven of her sins.' " Therion looked up. "You know, that's a most interesting use of feminine hair; I shall have to try it sometime. Jesus certainly liked to forgive pretty women their sins, especially when they kissed his stinking feet. In those days women really knew their place. I dare say some of them were very grateful to be allowed to tongue his toes, and had he desired them to extend their oral attentions up his legs somewhat—"
He paused, but this time Brother Paul refused to be baited. It was folly to engage this man in casual debate.
"Well," Therion continued, "This brother of Mary's name was Lazor or Lazarus. Jesus loved Lazarus, and if we take that literally—"
The scene showed Jesus putting his hand on a man, drawing him in for a kiss in much the same fashion as the woman at the well.
"No!" Brother Paul cried. "This was normal friendship! You have no grounds to presume—"
Therion faced him seriously. "You balk at all reasonable conjectures. That's part of the problem with your whole weird religion. Now I submit to your objective mind this hypothesis: if Jesus did not indulge himself with the fair sex or with men, he must have beat his meat in private—"