Revelations(79)

We’re both staring in open-mouthed amazement at what a change has been wrought in such a short time. She’s taken the one table that’s in the cell, divested it of its lamp, and set a lit candle in the middle of it, as well as a slender vase occupied by two lilies, whose stems twine about one another. An old record player has been set up and plugged in, and from it can be heard the soothing strains of classic melodies. Also upon the table, I can see dinner for two has been served, complete with a bottle of wine. I’m beyond stunned, I’m incredibly moved. Neither one of us seems capable of speech, and I can see Kathy’s pleased with our reactions.

“I know you guys can do better than this once you get out,” she begins, almost apologetically, “but I felt bad for you, and what you’ve had to go through.” A pointed glance at Judas’ forehead speaks volumes. “I figured since everyone else will be at the concert, you could have some privacy, you know? This will be your last supper here, so I hope you both enjoy it.” She moves to leave the cell, to let us begin our night, but Judas surprises us both by stopping her, taking her hand in his and kissing it respectfully.

“You’re a saint, madam,” he says in a low voice, thick with emotion. “I hope your husband appreciates what a gem he has…” The sheriff’s wife blushes at his words, smiling in a very pleased way. She hugs us both, murmurs she’ll be in the sheriff’s office if we need her, and takes her leave of us.

What dinner consists of I cannot say. Neither do I know what sort of wine it is, as I barely taste either. I’m sure they’re both wonderful, but it’s too hard to focus on anything but Judas. Left to my own devices, I probably wouldn’t bother to eat, but it’s imperative I maintain the facade for as long as possible. I also know if I don’t eat, Judas won’t either. So we have this, our last meal together for a long time to come, and we talk about the kindness of Kathy Kaplan, the artistic talent of her daughter which is evident around us, and whatever else comes to mind—

anything and everything. It’s impossible to say it all, in such a short time, but we try.

Once we’ve eaten our fill, Jude rises and sets the table against the wall. He flips the record to the other side, and restarts it. The haunting strains of Strangers in the Night can be heard. “C’mere.” He beckons to me, reaching for my hand. I give it to him, of course, unsure of what he intends. There’s nowhere to go. Literally.

Only this place is left to us, only this night.

He pulls me to him, our bodies touching intimately, as he holds my hand in his, his other arm going about my waist, and I begin to perceive his intentions. I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, but I’ll give it all I’ve got. For him. For Judas. As if he senses my uncertainty, he murmurs, “You can do it, it’s really easy,” and as he begins to move, my body simply follows his, falling into a simple two step rhythm, a gentle back and forth motion. He’s right—it’s not very hard at all.

We spend the evening dancing, our arms about one another. Sometimes we kiss, other times he just holds me tightly, my head upon his shoulder, and we take comfort from our proximity. He turns the record as needed.

I dread the end of this night. I don’t want it to end. I want to stay here, in Judas’ arms, forever. If only it could be. We’ve moved past words now, but every so often I love you’s are given and returned. That says it all. At some point, he moves us to the cot. We lie upon it together, fully clothed. A small voice warns me I need to make him leave, as I don’t know exactly how Lucifer intends to play it all out. I really don’t wish Judas to witness any of it. But I find myself unable to say so, and I suspect he really has no intention of leaving me tonight, so it would be futile on my part anyway. I bury my face into his chest, hold onto him as tightly as I can, and somewhere along the line, I simply fall asleep.





Chapter Thirty-Eight: Judas


Once Jesus has fallen asleep in my arms, I lie awake, holding him closely, protecting him as well as I’m able in this here and now. I listen to the measure of his quiet breathing, grateful he’s at peace, at least for the moment. My own thoughts won’t allow me to rest. I’m thinking ahead, wondering how Lightbringer intends to do this thing, how the final events will play themselves out to their unexpected conclusion. Unexpected to everyone but me, the orchestrator of this new ending to our familiar story. How will I explain it all to God when I see him?

Obviously I’ll see Him first, long before his son does. And He’ll probably be pissed. Yeah, that’s a bit of an understatement. But I can’t worry about that, not now. First things first. Which is Jesus’ safety.