Touch who, exactly? You gotta… specify, man, or else I might… not get what the hell's goin' on!
Oh Bacchus! You here? What wind blew you in? – I was surprised to see the familiar
Sandstorm! – He grimaced, wiping off the dust the desert had so generously slapped him
We stood by a dune in the evening. Even then you couldn't expect a breeze, but at least it wasn't blazing hot. I told him that, and he agreed:
Ain't Say, why we standin' here like strangers?
Ain't got nothing to – I spread my arms.
Damn Today you keep hittin' the bullseye. Both yours and mine. Well, anyhow… we gotta have some fun, don't we? Let's take a look at her:
His finger pointed at some object sticking out on the edge of a towering dune.
You joining me? – I
Nah, too Wanderin' through the desert ain't like puffin' shisha. Go check it out yourself.
Fine then. If he's not in the mood — no biggie. I don't need to be asked twice — I was curious myself what kind of weirdo thing that was.
I reached the top in just one step and felt my vision going blurry. Some kind of veil appeared in front of my eyes, and it was getting harder to make anything out. Groping blindly ahead, I somehow made it to wherever I was headed. Then I bumped into something cold and stone-like with my hands.
Some kind of pedestal or what the hell is this?
Trying to see anything at all, the last thing I managed to make out was a long piece of cloth lying atop this stone slab. It covered the whole surface like a strange blanket, and it looked like someone's image had been scorched into it. Yeah — scorched, but the material seemed totally unaffected, like it didn't give a damn. And the shape of the person, forever seared into the fabric, reminded me of someone.
No way?!
Me?!
I screamed my lungs out. A hand slapped over my mouth, and someone's lips started muttering something soothing and mellow. I folded in half, and not seeing a thing, smashed my forehead against the floor and froze. I couldn't feel anything anymore.
Then someone shook me. Not roughly. More like… gently reminding me that I could return to reality. That world where, however rarely, something worthwhile still happened. And maybe it was better (probably) to exist there than drift in endless darkness.
I opened my eyes and saw myself lying on my back, staring at some kind of outlines that totally looked like the vaults of a temple. They didn't let me focus though, since the haze in front of my eyes hadn't quite cleared yet. Plus, hovering over me was a man in some kind of wraps, but with brand-new sandals — and his face was hidden behind a mask.
And what a mask it was!
Not just a burlap sack with holes for eyes, but a proper leather mask, with one long slit for the eyes that shot upward in the middle, right onto the forehead. The whole thing looked a lot like wooden balusters nailed together, the kind they crucify criminals on. Only flipped upside down.
The man's voice was hushed and very, very soft — the kind that made me want to curl up and drift back into sleep.
Rabbi Thomas, how are you? Are you alright?
Groaning, I tried to lift myself up on my elbows but failed and flopped back down. Giving up fast, I asked in a low and pitiful voice:
Where are we? What's going on? And who are you? He nodded repeatedly, clearly pleased I was waking up: I see, I see, you've come back to us. My name is Prok. I serve the blessed Mar Only recently appointed, and constantly rebuked by Mori's disciples. What's the issue? – My questions were far from clever and stank of stupidity, but I really felt like I'll gladly explain: in their circle it's frowned upon to have servants, since they fiercely oppose the idea of one man being subject to another. What nonsense is that? – I barked, and immediately cramped up Prok handed me a bottle of water, and after a few gulps, I felt a little better. He went on complaining about his hard lot: I just don't get why I can't serve my He's a seasoned man, fought in more than one battle, and is respected among warriors. Of course, he's not what he used to be. He's grown softer, kinder… squishier, if you know what I mean.
Didn't notice much kindness from this Simon guy, but his physique — that I did notice. Hard to miss, really!
And to keep him feeling good — that's where I come in. And I cook better than anyone in Judea! Got the talent from my granddad and I'm not ashamed of it — I'm proud! – he raised his head with
Nearby, we heard James muttering — a voice that always held a trace of awkwardness and sorrow:
Don't distract Thomas, Prok! He's resting and needs to recover. Go help your Mar, who's prepping for And hey, don't be mad at me, old friend. Here, a coin for you. Come here, lemme hug you. You're the best, pal.
No need, my – the servant blushed furiously and scurried off out of sight.
James sat down beside me and offered a handful of chickpeas. Food didn't go down easy, but I still chewed through it out of stoic principle — I'd been given it for free, after all.