The word made its way slowly through the gossips and within a few days we all knew he had returned.
By then the crowds had begun filling the market street. His pilgrims were hot and dusty from their trek into Capernaum, and the sheer number of them made it difficult for me to keep an eye on any one of them. Marlev demanded I pay him extra to work into the afternoon, but I didn't put up much of a haggle. It was quite clear that even after paying him an additional shekel or two, I was still going to make quite a profit.
By midafternoon my stall was empty and I had closed for the day. Marlev got his pay and I took the rest to Eldorn the money changer for safekeeping. The pilgrims were everywhere, and the closer I got to home the more there were. The street was packed. People were standing shoulder to shoulder and I could barely get my way through. Children were perched on their father's shoulders to avoid harm else they might get trampled. They were a nuisance, dirty and I couldn't wait to get through them and into the safe and quiet of my home.
Across the way I saw Marlev fighting through the crowd, coming towards me. He began shouting my name and calling me over to him. His face was flushed and his clothes were dusty.
"We need your help," he shouted over the noise of the crowd.
I shook my head and waved him away. He fought the crowd and was able to get closer.
"No," he said. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. "You must help us with Shaphan. We've got to get him inside."
He turned and pointed to a doorway of a house just up the street. The doorway was open but I couldn't see into the building because of the people who were standing near the entrance. I could see that there was no way anyone, let alone Shaphan, was going to get in there.
I shook my head. "I've got things to do. Find someone else."
Before I could turn he grabbed my shoulder.
"This is important," he exclaimed. "He is inside, the one they are calling the Messiah. He can heal Shaphan."
I shrugged.
He reached in his pouch and pulled out the three coins I had paid him earlier. "Help me for this then." He put the coins in my hand. "It's all I have."
I hesitated for a moment then quickly pocketed the coins before he could change his mind. "Alright," I replied. "Where is he?"
Marlev turned and began pushing his way back through the crowd, crossing the street. I followed in his wake as best I could. He stopped near a pair of men who were standing over Shaphan, who was lying on his mat.
Shaphan and I had been friends once, back when he could walk. After his fall, however, I didn't have much company with him. I wasn't much fond of beggars, which was all Shaphan did since he could no longer do a normal man's work. I didn't know the other two men, but by their ages and the excitement in their eyes I could see that they were infected with the same fervor as Marlev. They talked amongst themselves. One of them wanted us to carry Shaphan on our shoulders and march through the crowd as a group to get him to the doorway. Marlev disagreed. By the looks of the crowd we weren't going to be going anywhere.
Suddenly, Shaphan spoke up. "The roof. Drop me through the roof."
I looked at the roof of the building we were trying to reach. Like the rest of the block, it had a thatch and roped cover. If we could find a way onto the roof, we might be able to break through the thatch. We could then lower him down....
By the time we were able to get Shaphan on the roof, I had realized that Marlev had gotten the better part of the deal. Shaphan was heavy, it was dusty and I was getting hot. We quickly pulled apart the thatch roofing and made a hole big enough to fit Shaphan through. With a heave we were able to get him through the hole and begin to lower his swinging body down onto the crowd. He was heavy.
"He's down," whispered Marlev. "And there's the Messiah."
I brushed one of the other two men away from the opening in the roof and looked down on the head of a man who was standing before the temple crowd.
"Why are you thinking such things in your hearts?" I heard the man say.
He pointed at the scribes one by one. "Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise, pick up your mat and walk'?"
He went over to Shaphan, who was up on one elbow, watching.
"But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth," he said loudly, still facing Shaphan. "I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home!"
The room was still as we all watched Shaphan, reclined upon his mat.
There was silence.
Even the bugs had stopped their chirping outside.
From my angle, I could see his eyes. They were wide, gazing in adoration at the figure standing above him.
Shapah lifted his head.
Then stood.
The crowd gasped.
Shaphan looked down at the people seated on the floor. At the scribes seated before him. Then he bent down and picked up his mat. He didn't say a word. The crowd was silent. Shapan slowly made his way through the crowd to the door.
"Shaphan," I said.
He stopped.
Everyone looked at me.
The man they called the Messiah looked at me. Right in the eyes. And He knew what I was thinking. And He knew what I wanted to say even better than I did.
He saw my heart.
He saw my secrets.
He knew it was I who had pushed Shaphan off the wall.
My mouth went dry.
Everyone was looking at me.
Waiting for me to say something.
Anything.
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