the two friends parted

                      the two friends parted

“You can’t do that,” whispered Constansia, his wife.

He lifted his dangling robes to his laps, and sat up.

“What then should I do,” he shouted. And stood up immediately, looking tired, and very angry.

“Hmmm,” she sobbed. And covered her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears. 

Since they got married in Rome ten years ago, he had never raised his voice this high, she thought. Why must he now?

He saw shock on her face. And could feel her pounding heart. Realizing what he done, he let out a smile.

“Justin…please, they should not murder this man. He is innocent. He has done no wrong…”

 He turned away from her. And walked to the east window. He pulled aside the light drapes. Below, he could see the Jews gathering at the Emperor’s Colonnades.

“Then I shall wash my hands off this mess,” he said in a low calm voice as if she was not in the drawing room.

Constansia was stunned. Overflowing tears drenched her cheeks. The writing on the wall was bold. The dream, the nightmare she had last night had come to haunt her. To see it playing out in the day was something else…something out of the ordinary she could hardly comprehend.

 …Two boys, ten year olds, were playing in the balcony of apartment 34D of a high-rise building. And she was there with them, on a cozy sofa, sipping some tea and chatting on her phone. Then one of the boys climbed the railings. In a blink of an eye, he fell off, smashing on the floor far below. Immediately people gathered at the scene. Ambulances came. Helicopter hovered around. Medics surrounded him. But all could do less to save him. He had long gone, in pieces…. Then his playmate came down. Before security men could stop him, he ran to his friend and knelt beside him, and then spread his hands over the scattered body. Slowly, the boy stood up….

Then she shouted and woke up.

 “He is your good friend. He gave you back your life. You can’t let him die…,” she finally found the right words to say.

Justin sat back on the chair. His head bowed, his fingers tapping on the arms.

He knew all along that his wife would remind him of his childhood.

If he saved my life…so what, he wondered. Caesar would not hear this…that Jews rioted during the Week of Peace because an outpost of the great Roman Empire refused to do their wish, refused to set free common criminals.

“He saved your life. He brought you back from death…. He is your friend,” Constansia wrangled. “Free him now….”

He ignored her.

“Bring him in,” he shouted.

His prisoner came in chains, Centurion by his side, two soldiers behind him.

Justin came forward to meet him. He moved to hug him. Then he veered away quickly.

He was in tattered clothes. He had bruises on his body. And hardly could walk or stand on his legs.

Our childhood friendship will not be a barrier to justice, he thought. And I will not be a weakling before my aides.

Then he waved at Constansia to leave the drawing room. She walked timidly to a corner. Then she sat down heavily where she could see the happenings.

“We want this impasse to end. What do you want me to do for you, my friend,” asked Justin.

The prisoner did not answer him.

“Nobody can help you except me. Herod threw you back at me. Tell me what to do to help you. I am your friend.”

“He kept quiet. And was staring at him.

“You saved my life once. I want to return that favour to you. He walked to a table and brought down an envelope. Take $5000. Leave the town immediately. I will take care of the rest.”

The haggard looking man neither moved nor said anything.

Then uproar floated into the room.

“Crucify him…crucify…crucify him…”

He looked up the ceiling. And smiled. He remembered the two running around this mansion while his father, Joseph worked on the stones. He also remembered that his friend, carved stones, and taught him the great stone works.

Even when he traveled to Rome for training in Statecraft, they remained good friends, writing letters to each other.  

For the sake of Caesar and Rome, let the Jews take what they want. For the sake of my friend, I wash my hands clean. No one will ever mention my name in any Roman Books… that I, Justine took a life of a friend, he thought.

He went to the empire’s diary on the table, and inscribed,

the King of the Jews.

Then he went to a sink, washed his hands, and dried them.

There was a long loud shout. The men scurried toward it. Maidens ran out downstairs. Constansia was rolling on the floor, and was bleeding a lot. And no one could help her.

Centurion ran back to the prisoner. And bowed.

“My Lord, your friend’s wife is...”

“Where is she,” he replied kindly.

He pointed. “There, My Lord!”

He dragged his chains to the corner where Constansia was lying motionless. They made a way for him. He stooped. His cuffed hands slowly touch her fore head.

“Arise, woman!” he said, lifting his head up. “Your cry onto My Father in heaven has healed you. In due season, shall be two born onto you. The work of God they shall do shall be exceeding great”

Constance came to life immediately. And got up. The maidens took her away.

Then Pontius Pilate knelt down and worshiped Jesus Christ. The Centurion and the soldiers did so too. When they took Him away to Golgotha, Pontius Pilate went back to the table. He opened the diary again. And inscribed more words,

Jesus Christ my savior, the King of the Jews, the Messiah of all