Let Her Be Now
Jesus thought Mary was acting rather distant. He didn't like this. They were always close, what was hurting her? He avoided any physical contact with her, knowing a bit about the abuse, but, even when he would hand her a book or a pen, she would snatch it quickly and slide her chair a desk away. He wasn't a leper, and doubted that he looked like one, why would she recoil? Jesus decided to question Judas.
It was late in the morning on the weekend. A cool Saturday morning.
"Judas? Are you near?" Jesus called out in the street. He heard and shuffling of footsteps and the squeak of leather. His tanned face and sunken eyes came into view.
"Yes." There was softness, a softness that Judas did not share with John or any previous "friends."
Jesus hesitated. He doubted that his friend would reveal much, but he needed to know.
"Please tell me what is wrong with Mary."
Judas winced as if stung with a whip.
"They were just... just touchin' her, kissin' her... y'know?" His speech was off, he was shaking.
"No, I don't know, and I also want Mary to tell me in when the time is right. It will help her." he paused. "Judas, I care for her. I need to know, my friend, what happened after? I would assume she would be closer to you, seeing as you possibly saved her from death..."
"I just helped her... y'know?" Judas kept averting Jesus's eyes.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know. Please, tell me."
There was a silence that could have been cut with a knife. Judas was beginning to sweat and look around the street. Possibly to escape the interrogation, or see if he could bit hit by a car. Jesus was staring at him, catching his eyes to see glimpses of memories and thoughts. Jesus saw.
"You tried to..." Jesus stopped; searching for a slang, " You tried to..." he paused in a bit of concealed repulsion and anger, "... to put the moves on her," he spit the last words out.
Judas looked at Jesus, a tad questionably and coldly.
"I suppose you want to as well. You're not as holy as you think." he sneered.
"That's not the point. I don't touch her like that. Especially after a crime with a high caliber of –"
"Stop trying to be so fucking smart!" Judas shouted at him. "Fuck, you're not high class, stop thinking your better than everyone! Dammit! You act so superior!" Judas vented.
Jesus replied in a coolness that was too cold for his usual personality.
"When? I don't wear the brand names. I don't smoke the cigarettes or marijuana. I don't drink the beer. I don't hurt the girls and pretend I love them. If acting superior is showing humanity and compassion, then that is what I am. But, if it's drugs, sex, alcohol... I'm not superior. I am lowly."
"Just..." Judas began, "Just... Just lose the fucking attitude. I know... I know your feelings aren't as innocent as you claim. You're human, just like me. You love her, you want her, but you lie to yourself. You fucking lie! You deny yourself of emotion! You... you bastard!"
Jesus was shocked. He was certain he never felt like that around Mary. Judas couldn't be serious. He had to be stoned or drunk, but Jesus examined Judas closer. There were no evident yellow stains on his teeth, no redness, his eyes were watering though. The air around him had no scents of alcohol or drugs, just the sour of morning breath. How could Judas think of such a thing?
"I know why you say these things Judas.." Jesus continued as Judas hissed the words fuck and off. "You.. You feel like this about her. You deny. Not me."
Judas turned a bit and walked to down the street, not looking at him, but shouting.
"Don't get into my affairs of how I feel about people! I'm not the icon!"
Jesus stared at his back, torn between love and hate. He could have sworn he heard the dry grunt of a sob.
(Short chapter. Next one will be longer, I swear!)
