“The Judas Chronicles – III” / A Memorable Fancy #174

He said, “One of you will betray me.” And as he spoke I heard the dark wind gather my soul and curl words inside my ear. He looked at me and I expected sadness, maybe wrath, not what I saw.

I lunged from the room, stumbling over chairs and pushing past the others, upset a bowl. Fools always, they thought I had some hurried errand for the poor; but I went to see the priests, and said, “I know where you can take him without the crowd.”

And they said, “Lead us to him.”

They asked my price and paid it.


     Judas felt the silver in his hand, coins caressing each other’s quantity and weight. The rich man’s ostentatious offerings had gone to make up this horde, and the widow’s mite. Once in the Temple, the coins lost their source, became not treasure but treasury, accounts in a ledger, money without history or  memory.


     “Here’s your money, here! For pointing out the man the crowds have seen; for doing quickly what you came to do; for kissing him hard upon the mouth and getting out of our way. Here’s your money. Count it!”


     “Invest in land, man, it’s sure to go up. Make your money work for you; don’t blow it all on booze and thrills. A farm outside of town is going on the block today; you could pick it up for thirty. Don’t feel bad about the way you earned the dough – he had it coming, didn’t he? Rousing zealots, pissing off the Romans – they sure nailed his ass good, didn’t they?”

[To be continued …]


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