The Dark Days, cont. (#25)

 Continued research for my next historical novel: Peter and Paul.

It seems evident that Andrew, Peter’s younger brother, would have to take over the role of Peter’s protector. Peter, or Shimon as he was then known, was trying to find his footing in the role of a leader of… of a bunch of men with an absurd, revolutionary idea left them by Yeshûa.

Chapter ONE (draft, continued)

The Dark Days (excerpt)

“Shimon!” This time Andrew’s voice was more insistent. It no longer sounded like the Master. Andrew didn’t like Shimon drifting off, so often lately, when there were decisions to be made. As the younger brother he felt the need to look after Shimon. Funny how roles change. Until the Master left them, Shimon was the one who looked after all of them.

“He hasn’t left us,” Shimon murmured. “He’s still within us.”

“What’s that?”

Andrew looked concerned. He was really worried about his brother since He’d left. Since He’d left them alone. It seems, Shimon missed Him the most. Still, they had to cope. And Shimon had a lot on his mind. The Master had left his brother in charge.

Shimon was really not himself, lately. Not since the Master’s departure or even before. He seems to have lost all confidence ever since that night he’d spent on the courtyard. Even now he seemed to grow weak and agitated each time some cockerel sang; even during his sleep.

Actually it’s been a while. Apart from Andrew, the others didn’t really know what had happened. Shimon had no inclination to tell them. Three times… three times the cockerel sang. Three times…

“Never mind.”

Shimon was tired of explaining it to his friends. He blinked a few times to shake off the images of Gennesareth. For a while they wouldn’t let go. Then he thought of the others, and the boat dissolved in the water. The others wouldn’t understand. They’d spend just as many years with the Master as he had, yet they didn’t seem to understand his teaching at all. “Why can’t they understand my words?” He’d asked them, many a time. Ah, yes, many a time. Why can’t they understand my words?

To understand that none of this is real?

My kingdom is not of this world…

Andrew drew back from his brother recognizing the signs when Shimon was in a morose mood.

“I suppose Stephen arrived?” Simon asked without looking up.

“Not yet, Shimon. We expect him shortly.”

Andrew just didn’t have the heart to tell Shimon that Stephen had been murdered. Stoned to death. In the days that followed the Believers have scattered throughout Samaria, yet preaching the Word as they went.  

 (to be continued)