– Yes. So he said. But some believe… No, I can't say it.
Barabbas moved closer to him.
– What do they believe?
– They believe… that he is God's own son.
– God's son!
– Yes… But surely that can't be true, it's almost enough to make one afraid. I would really much rather he came back as he was.
Barabbas was quite worked up.
– How can they talk like that! he burst out. The son of God! The son of God crucified! Don't you see that's impossible!
– I said that it can't be true. And I'll gladly say it again if you like.
– What sort of lunatics are they who believe that? Barabbas went on, and the scar under his eye turned dark red, as it always did when there was anything the matter. The son of God! Of course he wasn't! Do you imagine the son of God comes down onto the earth? And starts going around preaching in your native countryside!
– Oh… why not? It's possible. As likely there as anywhere else. It's a humble part of the world, to be sure, but he had to begin somewhere.
The big fellow looked so ingenuous that Barabbas was inclined to smile, but he was far too worked up. He twisted and turned and twitched at his goat-hair mantle the whole time as though it had slipped off one shoulder, which it hadn't.
– And the wonders that occurred at his death, the other man said, have you thought of them?
– What wonders?
– Don't you know that it grew dark when he died?
Barabbas glanced away and rubbed his eyes for a moment.
– And that the earth quaked and the hill of Golgotha was rent asunder where the cross stood?
– It certainly was not! You've just made all that up! How do you know it was rent asunder? Were you there?
A sudden change came over the big man. He looked uncertainly at Barabbas and then down on the ground.
– No, no, I know nothing about it. I cannot testify to it, he stammered. And for a long time he sat silent, sighing deeply.
At last, laying his hand on Barabbas's arm, he said:
– You see… I was not with my Master when he suffered and died. By then I had taken to my heels. Forsaken him and fled. And before that I had even denied him. That is the very worst of all-that I
And hiding his great bearded face in his hands, he rocked to and fro.
– How could I do such a thing, how is it possible for one to do such a thing…?
The bright-blue eyes were full of tears when at last he raised his head again and looked at the other man.
– You asked what was troubling me. Now you know. Now you know the kind of man I am. And my Lord and Master knows even better. I am a poor, miserable wretch. Do you think he can forgive me?
Barabbas answered that he thought so. He was not particularly interested in what the other man told him, but he said it all the same, partly by way of assent and pardy because he could not help liking this man who sat there accusing himself Hke any criminal, though he had done nothing. Who hasn't let somebody else down in one way or another?
The man gripped his hand and held it tightly in his.
– Do you think so? Do you think so? he repeated in a thick voice.
At that moment a group of men walked past outside in the street. When they caught sight of the big red- haired man and saw who it was he sat talking to and holding by the hand, they started as though unable to believe their eyes. They hurried forward, and although approaching the shabbily dressed man in a curiously respectful way they burst out:
– Don't you know who that man is?
– No, he answered truthfully, I don't know. But he is a kind-hearted man and we have had a good talk together.
– Don't you know that it was in place of him that the Master was crucified?
The big man released Barabbas's hand and looked from one to the other, unable to conceal his dismay. The newcomers showed their feelings even more plainly, breathing violently in agitation.
Barabbas had got to his feet and was standing with his back turned so that his face was no longer visible.
– Get thee hence, thou reprobate! they said to him fiercely.
And pulling his mantle about him, Barabbas walked off down the street alone without looking back.
The girl with the hare-lip was unable to sleep. She lay looking up at the stars and thought of what was soon to come to pass. No, she did not want to fall asleep, she wanted to keep watch this night.
She was lying on some twigs and straw she had gathered in a hollow outside the Dung Gate, and around her she could hear the sick groaning and moving restlessly in their sleep and the tinkle of the leper's bells, the one who sometimes got up and walked about because of the pain. The stench of the large refuse-heaps filled the whole valley and made it difficult to breathe, but she was so used to it that she no longer noticed it. No one here noticed it any longer.
Tomorrow at sunrise… Tomorrow at sunrise…
What a strange thought. Soon all the sick would be well and all the starving be fed. It was almost beyond belief. How would it all come about? But soon the heavens would open and the angels descend and feed them all- at least all the poor. The rich would no doubt continue to eat in their own houses, but the poor, all those who were really hungry, would be given food by angels, and here by the Dung Gate cloths would be spread out over the ground, white linen cloths, and food of all kinds would be laid out on them and everyone would lie down and eat. It wasn't really so very hard to imagine if one just thought that everything would be completely different from what it was now. Nothing would be like anything one had seen or experienced before.
Perhaps she too would be in other clothes, one never knew. White, possibly. Or perhaps in a blue skirt? Everything would be so different because the son of God was risen from the dead and the new age had dawned.
She lay thinking of it all, of how it would be.
Tomorrow… Tomorrow at sunrise… She was glad she had been told about it.
The leper's bells sounded closer at hand. She recognized them; he usually made his way up here of a night, though it was not allowed; they had to keep inside their enclosure at the very bottom of the valley, but now in the night-time he took the risk. It was as if he sought human companionship and, for that matter, he had once said that was the reason. She saw him picking his way between the sleepers in the starlight.
The realm of the dead… What was it like there really? They said that he was now wandering about in the realm of the dead… What did it look like? No, she had no idea…
The old blind man moaned in his sleep. And a little further away the emaciated young man lay panting, the one who could always be heard. Quite near her lay the Galilean woman, whose arm twitched because she had someone else's spirit in her. There were many around her who thought they would be made whole by the mud in the spring, and there were poor wretches who lived on refuse from the garbage heaps. But tomorrow no one would go rooting about there any more. They lay twisting in their sleep, but she was not sorry for them any more.
Perhaps the water would be purified by an angel breathing on it? And they would really be healed when they stepped down into it? Perhaps even the lepers would be healed? But would they be allowed to step down into the spring? Would they really? One didn't know for sure how it would be… No, one knew very little really…
Perhaps nothing would happen to the spring and no one even bother about it. Perhaps the angelic hosts would float along through the whole Ge-Hinnom valley and over all the earth, sweeping away disease and sorrow and misfortune with their wings!
She lay thinking that perhaps that was how it would be.
