A Seasonal Tale

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Crucified.

By Mike Freeman


Pontius Pilate looked at Jesus and he was afraid. Such terrible powers did this son of a god have. There were many tales circulating. The Priests wanted to get rid of him. He had come to the temple one day and kicked over the money lenders tables. No one had tried to stop him they knew that twenty men could not overcome him. Even now Jesus seemed to grow so large that he filled the room. Pontius had a terrible headache brought on by the stress of want was happening here.
Jesus approached him. We all knew that he was allowing his praetorians to restrain him. They were brave and tested in battle. Life was good here in Galilee and he lived in a beautiful palace.

?Let him go. Let him approach.? Even though his guards knew that they were powerless to protect him.
?I have a terrible headache,? he said holding the back of his neck to try and stop the shooting pains that pulsed up his brainstem and into his brain.
?Go to the weeping willow tree and get some of the bark,? Jesus commanded in a gentle voice to his physician the Greek.
Pontius noticed how large and blue his eyes were.
He stood watching the bark boiling in the water, stirred by the Greek.
?You can also dry some of the bark and soak it in alcohol. The longer you leave it the stronger it will get.
The Greek nodded in assent.
?But don?t make a ring round the tree or it will die,? informed Jesus.
As he drank down the liquid
?Can I place my hands upon you,? Jesus was speaking to him.
?Yes, you may. I am not afraid because I know your powers. What do you want me to do?? Pontius realised that his headache was going. He felt a tremendous heat flowing through his head. He smiled the first time in days. ?So it was true? he thought ?this fallen one trapped here on the Earth was a holy man, a great physician?.
?What shall I do with you? Pontius asked in despair.
?I want you to crucify me,? Jesus said.
Pontius began to speak but Jesus held up his hand. ?I am leaving your land. ?
Pontius could do what the priests wanted now and let them continue to lend money at the temple.
?But don?t break my legs. One of your soldiers must make a long shallow cut in my side so that the blood flows. Mary of Magdalene will take my body.?
Pontius thought that this angel go up in a ball of fire as it was told.

The priests had bribed the crowd and when Pontius asked the crowd if he should spare Jesus they spared the thief and called for his death.
?Crucify him? they howled and shouted. He saw the priests rubbing their hands and nodding to him. He despised these venial priests.
After two moons they were all still alive. Others were arriving and welling of the crowd now and he started to hear mutterings of discontent and see dark glances cast towards the priests. His followers were numerous now. He feared for an insurrection. He better get more soldiers. Barajas and the other thief were still alive. Jesus sagged lifeless his clothes covered in blood from his wounds.
His centurions picked up the rocks to smash the thigh bones of the three crucified beings.
?Jesus is dead? Pontius shouted. The crowd erupted in tumultuous joy. Dancing and singing as his soldiers smashed the legs of the two thieves. One already had one hand he noticed.

Some months later a priest brought him a sack of gold coins.
Pontius nodded.? You may go now,? He commanded.
?I have been told that Jesus is alive and has been seen.? the priest said kneeling, his head touching the floor.
They were cowards, he knew paying gold for the death of their enemies he knew.? Yes I have already heard this rumour, but I think that this dangerous gossip should be stopped.?
?You did not break his legs? the priest whispered. They told me to tell you.? He said cringed.
?Jesus is dead but I am sending soldiers? Pontius said.
?Now go before my head starts to throb. Physician have you got some of the tincture,? he asked.

Jesus entered the village in India. The mullah was there.
The Mullah put his hand around Jesus? shoulders and guided him into the coolness of the temple. They knelt and had tea.
The Mullah took out a pipe and lit it its sweet incense sweetening the air.
He put the book of records across his knees and dipped the pen into the ink. He wrote the date.
And your name is Jesus and your sign is the fish. He wrote the name into the book.
?And how many wives and children have you brought with you he asked.
?Here make your fish here,? he offered the open book to Jesus.
Copyright Mike Freeman December 2006