The Blue Bottle (Part 12)
Mark has met Frank, and shown that time travel isn’t only possible, but happened. Mark left the pub early, trying to find reason, and Rosie steps astride a donkey.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt. 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11
Rosie is not an animal lover, certainly not fond of donkeys after being bitten by one when a child in Glasgow Zoo. The idea of climbing aboard an animal is the last thing on her mind, but so is her urge to find out the truth. So as the donkey carried them both away from the pub, rain falling, mind a shadow of despair before the light and lovely air of Galilee…
Frank helped Rosie off the donkey. “Frank, what are you wearing… what am I wearing?”
“Look around you, Rosie. Most people are dressed as you are, having a cloak, tied at your waist, and over which you have this long robe. On our feet, sandals worn in this ancient time.”
“What time? Frank. Are we in Afghanistan? Will we see Mark here?”
“We are in Capernaum, out there is the Sea of Galilee.”
“Cap…what?”
Frank knew the stories, the alien who came, who was received with curious joy when men and women believed in prophets and less in moneychangers and sellers of pharmaceuticals. Yes, the light and lovely air of Galilee, the Alien force of faith and compassion, the idea that somewhere, somehow, a miracle will happen on these shores.
“Capernaum, Rosie. This is the place where Jesus did much of his preaching.”
Rosie, being Catholic, knew very well the teachings of Jesus.
“Wait, we’ve come back to the time of Jesus?” Rosie asks, drowning in noise and confusion and sinking down in that place where mothers go when afraid for their children.
It is the hand of maternal nobility that helps her to her feet. Tears are a useless demonstration of anguish and are different from those that heralded the child’s arrival into the world. Some realities are more frightening than monsters.
“Don’t be afraid, Rosie. The Blue Bottle contains water drawn from the Sea of Galilee.”
“Why are there thousands of people waiting? Did they know we are coming?”
“Not we, Rosie, Him….” Frank points to the distance; a man in a long white robe walks with the people. “His hair as red as yours, Rosie, and as long.”
Close up; a child is pouring emerald smiles along His busy path.
“Him…? Frank, are you saying that man is Jesus?”
“He’s called a Rabbi in these parts, not because he reads the scriptures. His teachings touch people, so they call Him Rabbi.”
As Frank takes a sideways glance at Rosie, the first thing he sees are tears running freely and fast down her cheek. Rosie turns to him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. Frank puts his arm around her as she sobs uncontrollably. Words feel unutterable, but they would be words of regret and sorrow if spoken. Frank and Rosie weep long and hard together, not looking into each other’s eyes but holding each other for comfort.
The prayers and praise of the multitude become louder as the Rabbi comes closer. He walks easily among the people, surrounded by men who protect Him, not because the Rabbi is in danger, but because the adoration is immense and pushing at Him.
Rosie is overcome, feeling the divine brightness.
“Please tell me I’m dreaming, Frank. Tell me we are hallucinating,” Rosie pleads, looking up and into Frank’s eyes. “Frank, your cheek, it’s bleeding.”
The crowds surge, thousands upon thousands calling out for miracles, forgiveness, and food for their young, and Rabbi blesses each of them.
“Rosie, listen to me, He has known both of us and loved us. There is nothing to fear. What we, what the world lost, is only his breathing, his body, his light of the day…but not his heart, not his love.”
The Rabbi stops, observes the silver coins on Frank’s neck, and smiles. ‘So, we are indeed close again, my friend,” the Rabbi speaks softly. “The demon has found you, Judas,” The Rabbi says, pointing at Frank’s cheek.
“It’s just a scratch, Rabbi, a warning; but my death is not what he wants. It is a reminder.”
“My Father be with you, Judas,” and the Rabbi touching Frank’s cheek. “Tomorrow, we flee to Bethsaida, on the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee,” the Rabbi says. “Protect my mother, Judas. I trust you.”
Before the Rabbi turns from Frank, He asks, “journey with us for a while, offer your heart to whoever follows.”
Rosie sat upon the donkey. The Sea of Galilee became a sea of flames. It was Sunday morning, 22nd May, in the year A.D. 29.
At eight-thirty the following morning, the Rabbi and his apostles rowed a boat to the eastern shore on the Sea of Galilee.
As Rosie opens her front door, a rumble of thunder rolls in across the sky. She is anxious to see Mark after he had left the pub before her. She takes off her coat, kicks off her shoes by the door, and goes into the kitchen. Mark is fast asleep on the couch. It is fifteen minutes to midnight, but there is no thought of going to bed without a cup of tea and a long soak. While the kettle boils on the gas stove, she moves into the bathroom and runs herself a deep bath, pouring in plenty of bubble fragrance.
She removes her clothes and covers herself with a bathrobe, just in time to hear the kettle chirping its readiness. Tea poured, she heads back to the bathroom, sets the teacup on the bath stool, throws off her robe, and sinks into the bubbles. Heaven. She relaxes, calling up a question that must lead somewhere but unsure where.
Before falling into her bed, Rosie picks up the Bible from her bedstand. She closes her eyes and opens:
Judas had forgot that he was a friend of the Rabbi. Barabbas forgot that he was once a hero. Gestas….. who is Gestas?
Rosie lays the Bible down, draws the covers, and cries herself to sleep.
Hello, this might be of some interest. If you would like to join Medium as a Member, giving you access to every story I write, and the whole shabang of talented writers on Medium, and you want to join up, read, or earn yourself a few coins writing, please think about using my LINK to become a member. Cost $5. You’ll be gifting me a cup of coffee, and treating yourself to the wonderland of Medium.com💜✍️
