Chapter Two: Playmate Resurrected

Disclaimer:

All the Characters in this story other than Shlomo and his family and the ben Keviahs are true historical Characters who can be found in the pages of the Bible. I have taken the liberty to guess their appearances and give Jarius's wife and daughter names and personalities which may or may not match those given to them by their Creator.

The exact location of the events described in this story is not certain, but I have used poetic license to place it in the home of a very grateful synoguge official who lived in the area.

The familiarity I have portrayed between Yohonahan and Caiaphas is due to a speculation about their prior relationship which the gospel of John hints at (John 18:15). My guess is that Caiaphas may have been Yohonahan's first mentor on his search for Messiah, and he had possibly grown quite fond of the eager young disciple, until Yohonahan chose to follow the Baptist, and then later Yeshua himself, against Caiaphas's disapproval.

I have chosen to use the Hebrew names of the Characters rather than the transliterated ones we get in our English Bibles, partly because it helps us to imagine the culture that we are reading about better, and partly because I believe in making the effort to use people's proper names when we know them, rather than changing them to ones which sound more familiar to our ears. I am still working on these and may make further changes as other corrections come to my attention. I refer confused readers to a glossary at the end.

Now, back to the story!

The Pharisees, along with their students, crowded through the iron gates of Jarius's home into the atrium beyond. The simple elegance of the Ionic columns and the green and blue mosaics on the floor immediately lifted Shlomo's mood.

"I love this place," he muttered to himself, as he moved toward his favourite spot by the marble fountain at the center of the courtyard.

He'd been here many times as a boy. Shlomo's mother was the cousin of Jarius's wife, and since Chorazin was less than a 4 hour walk from Capernaum, they often visited while his father was at market selling his furniture.

A young, slender man with curly black hair and a warm smile in his brown eyes broke away from a group at the far end of the atrium. Shlomo thought he looked familiar as he passed by on his way to greet Caiaphas.

"Rabbi, how good of you to come! To what do we owe the honour of your company?"



"Yohonahan." Caiaphas' voice reflected none of the friendliness of the young man's. "I wondered what had happened to you after that smelly Nazarite friend of yours had been disposed of."

By the time Caiaphas had finished his sentence, the smile had left Yohonahan's eyes, and dark anger and grief filled them instead. Shlomo had been watching with the greatest interest, surprised that the young man seemed so comfortable around the High Priest whom everyone else seemed to treat with a mixture of awe and fear. Yohonahan lowered his voice and muttered something for Caiaphas' ears only, which resulted in the Rabbi's face flushing with anger.

At this interesting point, however, Shlomo suddenly lost his vision as two small brown hands slipped across his eyes from behind and an unnaturally gruff voice demanded, "Guess who?"

Shlomo grinned, "Oh, Shalom, Cousin Jarius".

There was a high pitched giggle and all pretence of masculinity was dropped. "Guess again!"

Shlomo pretended to smell the hands for clues. "Mmm soapy…You must be Marta the cleaning lady!" Another giggle and the hands were removed. A pretty girl of about 12 with dark brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes bobbed into view.

"Oh! It's you Yovela. I never would have guessed!"

"Don't be silly Shlomo. You were just pretending you didn't know it was me."

Shlomo chuckled in agreement as he moved over to make room for his friend on the broad edge of the pool beside him. "So, what mischief have you been up to lately, my little cousin?"

Yovela's eyes widened in surprise. ""Haven't you heard, then?"

Shlomo chuckled again. "Much as it might surprise you, Yovela, news of your escapades doesn't usually get as far as Jerusalem."

However, there was no matching laughter in Yovela's eyes this time as she searched his face anxiously to discern if he really was ignorant of what she was about to tell him. "But how could you not know? Your mother and father were among the mourners."

Shlomo's expression sobered and he gently took Yovela in his arms. "I am so sorry for teasing you, Yov. You should have stopped me… It wasn't…your mother, was it?"Yovela pushed against his chest, freeing herself, then looked away in embarrassment and confusion.

" No"… she paused as if wondering how to proceed, then looked directly at him. "It was me."

For one and a half seconds her serious expression almost convinced him, before the nonsense of her words sunk in. Shlomo exploded into laughter, slapping her good naturedly on the back.

"Well done, cousin! You really had me worried there. I thought someone really had died! Hahaahaa! 'It was me,' she said! Hahaahaa!" Tears were streaming down his face at the joke.



"But it WAS!" Yovela's voice showed the frustration she felt at not being believed. " I have been very sick with the fever, and none of the usual medicines had any effect. Someone told father that Yeshua of Nazareth was in the area and had been healing the sick wherever he went, so Father, in desperation, went to find him. By the time they got back, however, it was too late, I had already died."

Shlomo, who had stopped laughing to listen to her narrative, interrupted her at this point with a wide grin.

"Nice try, Yov, but you won't catch me the same way twice."

"But I am telling the truth! You have to believe me!"

Suddenly, Yovela grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the now crowded room to the large group of men at the back from which Yohonahan had emerged when the Pharisees had first arrived. She tugged on the sleeve of the biggest man there, who stood with his back to them, listening to someone speaking.

"Shimon, I need you," she whispered loudly.

The muscular man turned and smiled down at her, "What is it, Yovela?" he whispered back.

"My cousin here thinks I am lying when I said I was dead. You have to make him believe that I am telling the truth!"

The big man drew her aside from the group and crouched down so he could meet her eyes, one huge hand on each of her shoulders.

"Yovela, you know Rabbi Yeshua told you not to tell anyone about that." he admonished sternly.

Yovela's eagerness vanished. In confusion, she looked past his shoulder at the man Shimon had been listening to. The Rabbi was still speaking, but his reassuring eyes met Yovela's nervous gaze with a tiny smile and a slight shake of the head before he looked away. Yovela let out a small sigh.

"I am sorry, Shimon. I forgot. He's my friend…and he asked… I'm sorry." She hung her head in shame.

Shimon lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "It is alright this time," he said kindly, "but both of you," (this time he included Shlomo in his gaze), " must remember not to tell anyone else about how Yeshua raised you from the dead, okay? Not a living soul!"

"Not a living soul," Yovela obediently repeated.

Shlomo just stared at the big man, unaware that his jaw had dropped in amazement.

"And you, young man?" Shimon prompted. "Do you promise too?"

Shlomo finally found his tongue. "Not a living soul!" the words rushed out.



"Good, now don't you forget it," said the fisherman as he straightened up and turned his attention back to the teacher.

Shlomo stared at his cousin in wonder and pulled her out to the garden where he spent the next hour interrogating her on what it had been like to be dead.

Finally, they were found by Yovela's mother, Mariamme .

"Shalom, Shlomo." She gave his cheek a kiss. "I thought I saw you arrive with the others from Jerusalem". Her arms went protectively around her daughter's waist while she spoke to him. "Are your studies going well?"

"Yes, thank you, Cousin Mariamme," replied Shlomo, "although I'd rather be at home helping Father."

"Your parents will both be very glad to see you, I am sure." A secret smile passed between herself and Yovela. " Now come, both of you, and wash for dinner. It is almost served"

Glossary:

Shalom - "Peace to you." a common greeting or farewell.

Rabbi - Teacher

Talmud - A student of the sacred writings. (Also refers to, the commentary on the scriptures)

Talmudim - students (plural form)

Nazarite - A person who was dedicated to God in a special way. Refer Numbers, chapter 6, for details.

Names:

Shlomo – Solomon.

Yohonahan – John (as in Zebadee's youngest son).

Yovela – (Named after my four year old!), means 'a joyful heart.'

Shimon – Simon (as in Simon Peter).

Mariamme – (Named after Herod the Great's Jewish wife. The last of the ruling Maccabean line.

Thereby, securing his claim to the throne).

Yeshua – Jesus.