“It will be a bit tight, but since you already all know each other, I suppose that will be acceptable to you?”
Simon shook the captain’s hand vigorously. “That will be just fine. Let me get them.”
Simon alternated between a fast walk and a run as he hurried back down the wharf, looking for his family. He found them sitting under a tree and excitedly told them about finding the captain. He had been concerned that they might have to split into two groups to find passage, but those worries vanished. Rufus stood and picked up as many of their bundles as he could.
“So, Father, the Lord provides,” Rufus said.
“He does, he does. Everyone, follow me.”
They carried their things back to the ship. When the captain saw them, he called to his son, who hurried over to help. The boy quickly went to Simon’s eldest daughter, Miriam, and smiled at her as he offered to take her shoulder bag. But just as the boy put out his arms, Simon handed him his own, heavier bag. The quick glance that took place between the two youths just then was not lost on Simon, nor was the momentary look of scorn Miriam offered him.
Once aboard, they arranged places to sit while the captain and his crew finished loading cargo. The prevailing winds usually blew from west to east, which would favor the little group on their journey. If the weather was calm, they would be in Joppa in five to six days. The captain would likely stop two or three times to transfer cargo, but since Simon and his family took up all the available passenger room, each porting would be fast.
It was a smooth trip, and the days passed quickly as the little family spent time watching the shoreline, resting, and sharing their thoughts and excitement about seeing the Messiah. Several times, the captain and Simon removed themselves to a corner of the deck where Simon shared everything that had happened to him.
Upon arriving in Joppa, Rufus set out to learn if anyone knew where Jesus was preaching, and Simon worked to secure donkeys for the trip. He wanted to cover as much ground as possible, so he purchased six of the animals to carry their things and to allow for the younger members of the family, along with Mara and Batya on occasion, to ride as much as possible.
As Simon was completing the transaction, Rufus came running to him with excitement.
“Father, I found a man who came from Jerusalem this morning. He said that just two days ago Jesus came with his apostles to the city.”
“Wonderful! We can make it there by tomorrow evening.”
Simon called to Mara. “Can you and Batya get us two days’ worth of food? Children! Help me load up our new family members.”
The children excitedly stroked the donkeys, naming each one.
As he worked alongside his father, Rufus shared what he’d learned. “Father, this man said there are great crowds. As Jesus entered the city riding on a donkey, his followers laid palms before him and openly proclaimed him the Son of David and the promised Messiah. They speak boldly of this now.”
Simon smiled at his son.
“We have come at a good time,” he said. “We will get there a few days before Passover. I cannot think of a better time to hear him.”
Rufus then looked somewhat subdued. “This man also said that Jesus is preparing to take over the armies.”
Simon stopped adjusting the loads. “Is this what the prophecy says?”
Rufus looked concerned. “It does, but I don’t think in the way this man thinks. I’m not sure how many share his thoughts . . . or what they might do when the Messiah does not do what they expect.”
Simon returned to his work.
“Let’s talk as we walk,” he told his son. “Whatever happens, I want to get there as quickly as we can.”
Simon left the final preparations to Rufus and went in search of a caravan to join. The city was teeming with people, and there would likely be almost one continuous stream of travelers making the trip. He found a group that looked nearly ready to leave, and ran back to his family to tell them.
As he began to lead them over to where the caravan members were assembling, he looked at Mara. Something overcame him. Tears filled his eyes, and he hugged her and kissed her.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I am just happy we are on this journey together.”
Moments later, the first of the caravan began moving. Simon waited until he could blend into the middle and then walked his family and their train of animals into the mass flowing forward.
◆ ◆ ◆
The first day of travel was uneventful. It seemed everyone was going the same direction, which was not surprising given the coming of Passover only a few days hence. On the second day, however, as they drew closer, they began to pass an occasional group traveling the other direction. When that happened, everyone in Simon’s caravan would stop and press the other group for information.
It was at the end of that day when the news of the temple came.
A large crowd had gathered around the fire; they were urging the man to tell his story one more time.
He began again. “It was the morning after he rode into Jerusalem. He had come to the temple. And he saw just what he had three years ago—money changers set up in within the temple walls. He began to overturn their tables, and he chased them out, chastising them.”
Someone from the crowd called out, “What did he say?”
“He said they had made the temple a den of thieves.”
“But then,” the man continued, “he invited we who had witnessed it to come and sit by him. And he taught us! And then many started bringing their loved ones who were blind or lame to him. One by one, the Messiah healed them all.”
When the man finished talking, and the larger group of listeners began to disperse, a smaller group gathering closer together to ask the traveler more questions. Simon and Rufus walked forward so they could hear.
“How did the Sanhedrin react?” one man asked.
“They are not happy,” the man answered warily. “They had representatives at the temple, and I watched them as Jesus cleared the court. You would think they would be pleased he was honoring the temple, but they were visibly upset.”
Another chimed in. “Why are they so bothered?”
The man looked his way and replied instantly: “He challenges their authority. They have said he blasphemes by calling himself the Son of God. Jesus outwardly blames them for allowing the temple to be defiled; and in so many other things, he suggests that their judgments are not in keeping with God’s ways.”
“Well,” said another, “I think that’s a good thing. They need to be challenged. We complain so much about Rome, but the Sanhedrin controls us as almost as much as Pilate does.”
“Yes, but they will not settle for it,” the traveler responded. “I have heard from others that they have had enough of Jesus and are plotting to kill him.”
Several questioned him to find out if that could really be true; but Simon and Rufus stepped away.
“Father, do you feel safe continuing on? It seems the tensions are high.”
Simon looked at the ground, his lips pursed. “Normally, Rufus, I’d say no. But I felt prompted to make this trip as soon as you suggested it. Let’s be watchful, but let’s continue. If either of us feels the family is in danger, we’ll tell the other and decide what to do.”
The following morning, as they packed their animals, it was with subdued excitement. Simon and Rufus quietly agreed that they should be watchful for those who might be traveling with the group as informants to the Sanhedrin. They advised the younger children to stay close, and Simon told Miriam to keep a more careful watch.
The pace was again slow, but Simon had traversed this road more times than he could count. He calculated that they would arrive in Jerusalem early in the afternoon. He had a friend in the city with a large home who he knew would be happy to take them in. They should be able to ge
t all settled before Passover began that evening. As they continued without incident, the mood lightened. Simon could not stop thinking. He was going to hear Jesus! Hear his words in his own ears! For the first time, he would not have to rely on second- and thirdhand retellings. His children would remember this the rest of their lives and tell their children and grandchildren of this experience.
The caravan stopped in Emmaus for the travelers to replenish their food and water and to take their noonday meal.
As they set out one last time, Simon felt like a young child again. They had only just left when he heard an odd noise. Crossing over to the other side of the road, he looked ahead. There at the edge was a man not much older than his sons. Simon squinted at him to try to see what was wrong. As they got closer, he could hear the man calling out nonsensical words. Simon noticed that as each group walked past the man, they would appear to be deep in conversation and turn the other way, so as to avoid looking at him.
Simon pulled his lead donkey off to the side of the road to let others begin to pass.
“Wait here,” was all he said to his family. As he walked up to the man, he noticed a terrible stench. He stood over him and realized the man must not have bathed in a long time. He did not appear to be poor, as his clothes were finer than would be the case if that were true. But Simon could also smell the strong odor of wine. The man was intoxicated. Simon stood looking at him, not sure what to do, when another member of the caravan walked up to him.
“I have seen him before,” the man told Simon. “He lives in Emmaus. He is always drunk. Be glad he is not able to walk today. Most of the time he accosts those who pass through the town.” The man then spat toward the drunken man and kept walking.
Simon had seen many men like this in his years of traveling. And though he would never have spit upon them, he had always kept his distance. He had also always felt strongly that each man must be responsible for himself and that he did not have to be involved in another’s poor decisions.
Until now.
He gazed down at the man, who still hadn’t seemed to notice Simon. The man kept uttering senseless words, his eyes closed. Simon wanted to turn away, but something stronger than his own feelings drew him to the man. Almost without knowing why, Simon squatted down next to him. While it was difficult to do, between the smell of wine and vomit and human filth, Simon put out his hand and touched the man’s shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, the drunken man turned his head toward Simon.
“What is your name?” Simon asked. The man tried to reply, but it was garbled. After repeated tries, Simon was finally able to discern that the man was saying “Daniel.”
“Daniel,” Simon asked, “where is your family? Are they in Emmaus?” He overpronounced every word to get the man’s attention.
“No,” Daniel spit out. “Bethen.”
Simon tried to repeat it back to him. “Bethany?”
Again, Daniel shook his head. Loudly, he said, “Bethem!”
“Bethlehem?” Simon asked back.
Daniel nodded and lay down. Simon stood and walked to his family. They gathered around him. “I assumed his family was in Emmaus, and I thought we could wait while I took him back there. But he says they are in Bethlehem. I . . .”
Simon looked back at the man. Then he turned to his family and said, “I don’t know what will happen to him if we ignore him. We need to get to Jerusalem; but I can’t leave him.”
He watched their faces. The children looked disappointed, and the youngest seemed frightened as they looked toward Daniel. But Rufus caught Simon’s eye and smiled. Simon turned to Mara.
“Mara, I . . .”
She drew closer to him and squeezed his hand. “We will be fine. Rufus will be with us.”
Simon nodded. He turned and looked toward Jerusalem, which had recently come into view on the far horizon.
“Rufus, take everyone there. There is man named Eber, a friend Alexander and I have stayed with many times. We are a large group, but he has a large home and is a good man, and I know he will allow all of you in.”
Simon explained how to find the man’s home and then said, “I will take one of the donkeys and get Daniel to Bethlehem—find his family. It’s a small town, so it should not take me long. I will try to get back tonight, but at the latest, I will find you in the morning.”
“You will be traveling on Passover,” Rufus said.
“I know,” Simon replied, “and that is not ideal. But I don’t think Daniel’s problems will wait because it is Passover. I think God will understand.”
Rufus smiled. “I know he will. God be with you, Father. We will see you tonight or tomorrow.”
Simon kissed each of his family and embraced Mara, who gave him a long hug. She came up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “I don’t think I have ever been prouder of my husband.”
He smiled at her and said, “Pride is a sin, Mara.”
She patted his cheek. “Not this kind. God be with you.”
Rufus then helped Simon move their things off one of the donkeys and fashioned a seat for Daniel on the beast. They lifted Daniel onto the donkey, forced him to lean forward, and then secured him so he would not fall. Simon took a flask of water and offered it to Daniel, who could not lift it but managed to drink part of the water that flowed from it, the rest spilling to the ground.
Simon’s family returned to the caravan, this time near its rear. They turned back frequently to look at him as they walked, waving until they could no longer see him. Simon also waved until they were out of sight.
“All right, Daniel, let’s go,” he finally said. “Let’s find your family.”
They turned and walked back toward Emmaus until Simon found the road to Bethlehem.
Simon had not anticipated how slow going this trip would be. Because Daniel was not as tightly secured as Simon had intended, the only travel arrangement that seemed to work forced Simon to walk right by the donkey’s side, his hand on Daniel’s back in case he slipped one way or the other.
Several times, the rocking of the donkey made Daniel ill, and he would vomit. Simon stopped whenever this happened and allowed Daniel to finish. Then he’d take water and the edge of his cloak and clean Daniel’s face. Many travelers passed them. Some would stare; others would turn in disgust or say something demeaning. Not one stopped to ask if they could help. Simon did not blame them. He had to admit that the whole experience was unsettling, but he was nonetheless singular in his purpose.
As the afternoon wore on, Daniel slowly became more coherent. At first he would just look at Simon and then put his head back down. But later, as the sun began to set, he spoke his first word.
“Why?”
It startled Simon at first; he had not heard anyone speak for hours.
“Why, what?” Simon responded.
Daniel was barely able to form a sentence. “Why you doing this?”
Simon stared at Daniel for a moment, then said, “Because you need it.”
Daniel looked like he was going to be ill again, but he took a big breath and managed to speak. “I don’t want to go to Bethlehem.”
Simon laughed. “That would have been a good thing to tell me earlier in the day. At this point, Daniel, you are going to Bethlehem. We will find your family and then, if you want to leave again, that’s up to you.”
Daniel looked away. Eventually he said, “My family will not want to see me.”
Simon looked at him and asked, “Why not? It’s your family.”
“Seeing me like this,” Daniel said, his faced still turned away, “they will not want me there. My family keeps the laws. This will embarrass them.”
Simon listened and then challenged him: “How do you know? Have they seen you like this before?”
Daniel shook his head. “They have not seen me at all.”
“For how long?” Simon asked.
&n
bsp; Daniel did not answer. It didn’t seem like he was trying to figure out how many years had passed. Rather, it seemed he did not want to say.
Finally, Daniel said quietly, “Since I was a younger man.”
Simon walked on without a word. He honestly did not know how this man’s family would react. And he also did not know what he would do if they wouldn’t take Daniel in. What if it has been so long they do not even live there anymore? Simon wondered. But he pushed the thought out of his mind, remaining sure of only one thing: he needed to get this man to Bethlehem.
Eventually they reached the outskirts of town, and Simon stopped.
“Let’s get you straightened up,” he said as he took off the man’s outer robe and wet it a little. He wiped Daniel’s face again and tried to clean his hair a bit. Simon looked at the robe, sighed, and then threw it into a trench by the side of the road. He then took off his own cloak and put it around Daniel.
“That will have to do. Now, can you tell me where your family lives?”
Daniel pointed, and Simon again led the donkey.
They entered Bethlehem, Daniel directing them at each intersection with a nod of his head until, finally, he looked toward a door. Simon stopped.
He looked carefully at the home, staring at the door. “This is your family’s home?”
Daniel nodded, a look of sadness—and fear—in his eyes.
Under his breath, Simon whispered, “I know this place.”
He helped Daniel off the donkey and placed the stumbling man’s left arm around his own shoulders. Daniel could support his own weight but could not balance himself at all, so Simon simply left the donkey standing in the road and approached the door, steadying Daniel with both hands around his waist as they walked. His stomach tightened when they reached the door, but he took a deep breath . . . and knocked.
In a few moments, a man opened the door. He was tall, husky, aged, and though more than thirty years had passed, Simon recognized him instantly. The man looked at Simon as though he might recognize him as well. His gaze then turned to Daniel; and revulsion moved across his face. Simon said nothing. After only a few seconds, the man’s eyes widened. He bent over, looking more closely. Suddenly, tears filled his eyes, and all he could say was, “My son.”
The Last Man at the Inn Page 12