Miracle at Golgotha - Augustus (best short books to read TXT) 📗

attention to the man in the window but when he looked again, the man was gone. They ascended the broad, steep steps. Titus and his mother were used to seeing vendors and guides offering goods and services, but today seemed more crowded than usual. Travelers stood in line waiting to see the Temple, some with offerings of fruit, nuts and grain, all of them prepared to pay their half-shekel to enter.
Titus and Leah nodded to a Temple guard who was armed to preserve order and looked much like a Roman legionnaire with his bare legs and stubby, glinting sword. He nodded back. They avoided the bathing area as they did not contemplate entering the sacred parts of the Temple. They did, however, wash their hands and feet in a wash basin to cleanse themselves before continuing further. Purification, as Titus had learned, was of the utmost importance when entering the temple, even for slaves and workers.
They walked along the interior right side of the wall past the Temple Treasury until they came to a large storage room with high ceilings. There, supplies, such as grains, tools, oils and wood were stored for use in the Temple. The spot for the wood was nearly empty.
“What happened to all the wood?” asked Titus.
A young man’s voice spoke from behind him. “They used it last night during their all-night prayers.”
Titus turned and saw his friend Simon standing, holding a wineskin. He, too, came from a broken family and to Titus’ surprise also from Galilee. Everyone living in Jerusalem regarded Galileans as hayseeds and brigands. That was their common bond. “Hello, Simon. So this means a long day for us?”
Simon grinned. “Maybe so. The Rabbi said there’s a lot happening in the Temple today and we’d best plan for a busy three days. During this time, the Rabbi says three fires have to be kept burning on the Altars constantly.” Pointing to a mark on the wall he said, “We’re supposed to stack the wood all the way up to there.” He held up the wineskin. “We’ll probably need more water than I brought.”
A Temple guard appeared from the side and looked at Titus’ mother. “Follow me,” he said.
Titus’ mother patted him on the shoulder. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. For the first time that day, he caught the faint scent of Gardenias like those from their garden. He watched her escorted away. Why would she wear such a sweet smell to work in the kitchen?

Chapter 4

“You’re wondering where your mother’s going, aren’t you?” asked Simon.
Titus wanted to deny it but he figured the expression on his face made it too obvious. “She’s going to the cleansing chamber to prepare the sacrificial lambs.”
“Yes, and I’m going to be the next Emperor of Rome. Are you pretending to be ignorant or do you really have no idea what’s going on here?”
Titus looked down. He really hadn’t thought about it. The chamber to clean animals was to the right, but the guard had taken his mother directly forward toward the Nicanor Gate, which led into the Priests’ Hall. He was dumbfounded. What was he to say? Not every person was escorted on these grounds by Temple guards, especially those of his lower social class. He and his mother were not Sadducees or even Pharisees, but mere peasants.
“Someone must have taken a liking to your mother, because most adulterous women are burned at the stake.”
Titus jaw tightened. “What are you trying to tell me, Simon? My mother is not an adulterer!”
Simon cast his eyes downward. His sandals were tattered and worn. He softened his voice. “Look, we’re not people of wealth. You know that. We barely have enough to eat from day to day.”
Titus frowned. “Yes, and what is your point?”
“Well, your situation is different than mine.”
Titus was several years younger than his friend and not as knowledgeable about the workings of the Temple. During the past year Simon had grown in strength and his manhood was evident. His shoulders were broader than Titus’ and his arms and legs were firmly muscled. Simon was at least a head taller than him.
“My mother and I started working here only several weeks before you and your mother.” Simon paused, then turned away. He shuffled to an empty two-wheeled cart and lifted the handles. “Come on, let’s talk and work.”
Titus followed the cart out to the Upper Gate on the west side of the structure and then down a small ramp to the outer courtyard in the Court of Gentiles, then outside the western wall gate. There, cut wood was donated by farmers and Jews for use in the Temple.
The courtyard was bustling more than usual, especially with the flow of people that seemed to be using the Temple grounds as a shortcut. The foot traffic entered through the lower East Gate, skirted the central buildings and then exited via West Gate where Titus and Simon stood. The money changers loved the traffic. New arrivals into the Holy City were waved through with barely a glance. Simon set the cart handles down near the wood pile and pointed with his chin.
“You know that tower?” He was indicating toward the Tower of Antonia in the northwest corner of the temple grounds.
“Sure. I’ve never been there, but everyone knows that’s the barracks for the Roman soldiers. What about it?”
“That’s where Marcus works,” said Simon.
“Marcus who?”
“Marcus Donatus, one of Pontius Pilate’s centurions. Maybe you’ve seen him. He’s the dark-skinned one from the North African cohort. My mother and him . . . you might say they were intimately acquainted.”
Indeed, few people had not taken notice of Marcus Donatus. He was a muscular man with skin the color of black olives and at least head and shoulders taller than the soldiers from Rome.
Titus also knew Simon’s father had died in a mining accident years ago, so adultery was not an issue. But he began to wonder why his friend was sharing these private details of his mother’s affairs. As Titus recalled, she did not possess striking beauty though she appeared to be a warm and sincere person. She worked in the chamber preparing animals for sacrifice alongside Leah, Titus’ mother.
“Your mother and a centurion?” gasped Titus.
Before Simon could answer, there was a woman’s scream about two blocks away. He looked up in the direction of the voice and saw a commotion taking place.
“What is it?” asked Titus, craning his neck to get a better view.
“Not sure, but it looks like someone is chasing a man headed in this direction.”
The crowds parted. Within a few seconds Titus saw the unmistakable face of his father and Gestas, his father’s thieving friend. Dimas was carrying something close to his belly. As he got closer, Titus noticed it was an item wrapped in burlap cloth. Dimas and Gestas saw Titus at the same time and made a direct line for him. As they came within a few feet from him, Dimas thrust the wrapped bundle into Titus’ gut.
“Here, this is tonight’s dinner. Cover it up with your wood and take it home.” Dimas was panting. “I’m getting too old for this.”
“They’re coming!” said Gestas, his eyes growing larger with something that resembled exhilaration. “This way.”
Titus and Simon instinctively closed ranks as they stood next to each other blocking any view of the bundle. Several members of the crowd chasing Dimas and Gestas shot a suspicious glance in Titus and Simon’s direction but kept up the pursuit. When the chasing mob disappeared around a city block, Titus made sure no one was looking at him and then set the bundle in the cart. He lifted the cloth and Simon’s eyes widened.
“Look at that!” he said. “Your father sure knows how to provide for his family.”
They both stared at a solid chunk of lamb roast. It was still fresh and wet with animal juices. Titus quickly covered it again and they both laid a cover of firewood on top. After returning to their work station, Titus hid the meat. He stared at the wood that covered the bundled lamb roast.
“I think we should take it back to its rightful owner,” he said.
“Are you out of your mind?” asked Simon. “You are the rightful owner.” He grinned at Titus. “Besides you didn’t steal it, someone else did. You got it as a gift.”
Titus shook his head. There was no use arguing with his friend over such an illogical point. He was in possession of stolen goods, making him just as guilty of robbery as his no-good father. But it had been a long time since he and his mother had eaten fresh meat. He set the bundle against the wall on the floor next to the wood and covered it once more. He glanced at a servant passing by with clean linens in his arms, then back at Simon. “Let’s get to work before anyone accuses us of being lazy peasants.”
The sun was at its highest point when Leah appeared. “Titus, Simon, are you boys almost finished?” She glanced at the mark on the wall. She seemed to have noticed the camouflaged bundle on the floor almost immediately. She glanced from one boy to the other, as if to say “What is that?”
Titus went to the covered meat and motioned his mother closer. He moved some wood aside, lifted the cloth and showed her the lamb roast.
“What are you doing with that? Are you holding it for someone?”
“It’s ours, Mother.” He replaced the cloth over the meat and glanced at Simon who averted his look. “Father came by earlier and left this for us.”
“Your father was here?”
“Yes, well not exactly here in the Temple. I saw him when we were outside the gate getting some wood. He gave it to me, said it was our dinner, then he left.”
“Was he with those wretched friends of his?”
Titus raised a finger as if to make clear there was only one. “Just Gestas. I didn’t see Barabbas.”
His mother wrung her hands as if unsure what to do. She scanned the hallway leading to the Court of Women and the Temple Treasury nearby. When it appeared there was no one in the area, she instructed Titus. “Quick! Wrap that bundle with my shawl.” She looked at Titus’ friend. “Simon, you and your mother