"Do you have good things to say of them, old woman?" Cleopas asked.
"Ah, so I can speak in the assembly of the wise!" she answered. There was more laughter. "Yes, I have more to say. Who do you think would listen to them if they weren't rich?"
"There are plenty of poor priests," Cleopas said. "You know that as well as I do. The priests of our village are poor. Zechariah was poor."
"No, he was not poor," said Old Sarah. "He wasn't rich, no. But he was never poor. And yes, there are many who work with their hands, and they have to. And they go before the Lord, yes. But at the very top, those who protect the Temple? Who can do it but men whom other men fear?"
"Does it matter who they are?" asked Alphaeus, "as long as they perform their duties, as long as they don't defile the Sanctuary, as long as they take the sacrifices from our hands?"
"No, it doesn't matter," said Cleopas. "Old Herod chose Joazer as High Priest because that's who he wanted. And now Archelaus wants a different man. How long has it been since Israel chose the High Priest? How long has it been since the Lord chose the High Priest?"
I raised my hand just as I would at school, and my uncle Cleopas turned to me.
"How do the people know," I asked, "that the priests do what the priests must do?"
"Everyone watches," said Joseph. "The other priests watch, the Levites watch, the scribes watch, the Pharisees watch."
"Oh, yes, the Pharisees watch!" said Cleopas.
And we did have a laugh at that. We loved our Pharisee Rabbi Jacimus. But he did watch all the rules.
"And you, James?" Cleopas asked. "You have no question?"
For the first time I saw that James was deep in his thoughts. He looked up and his face was dark.
"Old Herod murdered the High Priest once," he said in a low voice. He sounded like one of the men. "He murdered Aristobulos because he was beautiful when he went before the people, isn't that so?"
The men nodded, and Cleopas said, "That is so." He repeated the words. "He had him drowned on account of it, and everyone knew it. All because Aristobulos had gone before the people in his vestments and people had loved him."
James looked away.
"What kind of talk is this!" said Joseph. "We've come to the House of the Lord to offer sacrifice. We've come to be purified. We've come to eat the Passover. Let's put this talk out of our minds."
"Yes, let's put it away," said Old Sarah. "I say Joseph Caiaphas is a fine young man. And when he marries the daughter of Annas, he'll be closer to those in power."
My aunts, and Alexandra, agreed with this.
Cleopas was amazed.
"We haven't been here two hours and you women know who Joseph Caiaphas is going to marry! How do you find out these things!"
"Everyone knows this," said Salome. "If you weren't so busy quoting the Prophets, you'd know it too."
"Who knows?" asked Old Sarah. "Perhaps Joseph Caiaphas may be High Priest someday?"
I knew why she said it even though he was very young. He had a way about him, a way of moving and talking, an ease with everyone, a gentleness, and when he had greeted us he had cared about us, even though we were not rich, and behind his black eyes going on, there was a strong soul.
But now all my uncles and aunts were disputing on this, particularly the men, telling the women to be quiet, and they knew nothing about it, and some were insisting it hadn't happened yet, but all knew that Archelaus could change the High Priest any time he chose.
"Have you become a prophet, Sarah," asked Cleopas, "that you know this man will be High Priest?"
"Perhaps," she answered. "I know he'd be good as High Priest. He's clever and he's pious. He's our kindred. He ...he touches my heart."
"Ah, well, give him time," said Cleopas. "And may our cousins who've received us here be blessed for their generosity."
Cleopas turned to Joseph, who was saying nothing.
"What do you think?" Cleopas asked Joseph. Joseph looked up, smiled, and rolled his eyes to make a playful show of thinking when he wasn't thinking, and then he said, "Joseph Caiaphas is a tall man. A very tall man. And he stands up tall, and he had long hands that move like birds flying slowly. And he's married to the daughter of Annas, our cousin, who is cousin to the House of Boethus. Yes, he'll be High Priest."
We all laughed. Even Old Sarah laughed.
I started to get up.
The fear was gone from me but I didn't know it then.
The full supper was ready and it was a good meal.
The House of Caiaphas brought us a thick porridge of lentils with lots of spice in it. And there was a paste of delicious salty olives in oil, and then sweet dates, which we seldom had at home, and lots of them. And as always there were cakes of dried figs but these were very rich and good. The bread was light and warm from the oven.
The wife of Caiaphas, the mother of Joseph Caiaphas, stood in the doorway of her house to see to the serving of the wine herself, her veils very proper, concealing all her hair, with only a little of her face peeping out. We could see her in the torchlight. She waved a greeting to everyone, and then went inside.
We talked of the Temple, our purification, and the Feast itself - the bitter herbs, the unleavened bread and the roast lamb, and all the prayers we would say. The men went over this so that we boys would understand, but the Rabbis in school had done the same, and we did know what to expect and what to do.
And we were eager for it because last year in the middle of the fighting and fear we'd not kept the Feast at all and we wanted to appear before the Lord this time as the Law required of us.
Now I must say that James was almost finished with school. He was thirteen years old now, and a man before the Lord. And Silas and Levi who were older than that didn't go to school anymore. They had both been very slow. The Rabbi didn't want them to leave but they begged off on account of work, which they wanted to do. So as we went over the rules of the Feast, I think they were glad of it.
As we were finishing our supper, some of the boys of the camps came up to meet with us. They were friendly enough. But I thought of my cousin John bar Zechariah who'd gone off with the Essenes. I wondered if he was content.
He was far away in the desert, they'd said, and how often I thought did he see his mother? Maybe she would have known her own son? But why think such things? Those old puzzling words came back, that he had been foretold. My mother had gone to them when she'd known I was to be born. I wanted so badly to see John. And when would I ever be able to do that?