Project J (25 page)

Chapter 44:
 
Egypt?

“Egypt?
 
Why do you ask?
 
I’ve never been to Egypt.”

“Well, that settles that,” said Tamara as soon as the translation was completed.
 
“So much for Bible accuracy.”

“So it would appear,” agreed Myers.
 
“But we have another subject of more importance.”
 
He then launched into a long discourse that he did not bother to translate since Tamara pretty much knew it all anyway.
 
At the end, Jesus looked to Tamara and lifted one eyebrow.

“Yes,” he said.
 
“I would like to see your land.
 
Do you have any seas?”

“Yes, a couple of big ones.
 
But not near here,” Myers told him.
 
Then he had to explain that they would need to pack some clothes to take with them.

“Will we walk or are you rich, like the Romans, and have horses?” Jesus asked.

“We have horses,” Tamara said, “but of a different kind.
 
We’ll drive in a car.”
 
He seemed happy to hear that.
 
Ever since she had taken him for that little joyride in her Corvette, he had expressed an interest in a repeat performance.
 
How like a little child, she thought, happy at the simple thought of taking a ride in a car.

She let Myers lead Jesus off to pack the suitcase he had brought with him.
 
Tamara sat at the table in the courtyard and enjoyed the warm sunshine.
 
How every lucky I am, she thought, to be here at this exciting time.
 
There were many more questions she wanted to ask of Jesus, and she did enjoy being with him.
 
The aura of something special had not totally worn off, and she still wondered at the fact that she was now a friend of Jesus.
 
Like Myers, she was taking notes each evening with the vague notion of perhaps writing a book about her experiences at Project Dry Wells.
 
If that were ever possible.

It might be nice to get out into the countryside.
 
Juliette had told her on the phone that she found a perfect mountain home to rent.
 
She had to pay for an entire week, but did not mind since the home had no nearby neighbors, was only a short drive away, and had enough bedrooms for everyone to have their own.
 
It was near Fenton Lake on the other side of the Valles Caldera.
 
Nice Douglas fir and Ponderosa pines.
 
Sounded good to Tamara.

Fielding came by, informing that the scheduled visit by the Congressman was still on.
 
Tamara informed him of the house they were going to use, and said that she would inform Dr. Myers and Jesus.

When she walked into the area made into an apartment for Jesus, she saw that the bag was packed and Myers was explaining to Jesus that he really should take the pair of shoes they had for him.
 
But he insisted that the sandals were all he needed.
 
Tamara was amazed to see an easel set by the window.
 
Next to it was a palette, brushes and tubes of paint.
 
The canvass on the easel had an unfinished work on it, but it took her a while to recognize it as the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, or at least the reconstructions by archeologists.
 
The style of primitive, almost childlike, but the general form of the building and the perspective were pretty good for a beginner.

“You’re teaching him to paint?” she asked when the shoe debate died down.

“Yes.
 
Not really teaching him, but letting him see that you can use that medium to express yourself.
 
Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “you want to bet an early Jesus will be worth a lot of money some day?”

“Undoubtedly.
 
Don’t forget to get him to sign it.”

They met up outside the Project J building, next to a Chronodyne SUV that Juliette had checked out.
 
Jesus walked around the vehicle and looking inside, shaking his head all the time.
 
But when Tamara waved an invitation for him to join her in the back seat, he complied with a smile.
 
With a minimum of fuss, they were off.

At first, the road took them along pine covered ridges and switchbacks of that mountainous terrain.
 
The scenery was gorgeous and Jesus never stopped taking it in.
 
It took them less than an hour to reach the other side of the caldera and climb a ridge.
 
It was necessary to stop twice to check the map before they found the small side road labeled “Horseshoe Loop” that led to the rented house.

The house itself was modern, one story, but fairly large with an attached two-car garage.
 
The sides were painted a light blue with green trim.
 
For a while, Jesus just stood there, looking at it.
 
“Does everyone live in houses like this?” he asked.
 
“Where are the other houses?”

“Some people live in such houses, rabbi,” Myers told him as he helped unload the suitcases.
 
“But others live in different kinds.
 
In your days, not everyone lived in the same kind of houses, did they?”

“In Galilee there were the small villages and the cities.
 
All the houses were the same and all built near each other.
 
How else could everyone share the water from the well?
 
How else can meals be shared?
 
And homes protected?”

Myers was explaining, or at least trying to, how things were different from Jesus’ time as they walked towards the house.
 
Tamara grabbed her suitcase and followed along.

There were four bedrooms; Tamara’s being next to Jesus’ with Myers’ on the other side.
 
Tamara helped Juliette with the bags of groceries she had picked up in the village, then in putting the items away in the kitchen.
 
When that chore was done, the two women joined the others in the back patio.
 
The concrete patio gave way to grass, with pine trees only a few feet beyond that.
 
To one side there was a view along a grassy meadow with hints that there might be a creek running down the middle.
 
All in all, it was a pleasing, peaceful scene.
 
Tamara smelled the pine scent and was happy.

Myers looked to the barbeque sitting on the edge of the patio and asked, “You did bring steaks, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Juliette responded.
 
“And even marshmallows to toast.”

Both Tamara and Myers smiled at that.
 
Jesus lifted one eyebrow and waited for Myers to translate.
 
Just what a marshmallow was proved difficult to get across, so he led Jesus into the kitchen to show him.

“I’ll bet there are deer to graze on the grass.
 
And squirrels who will take food right out of your hand.
 
A red-tailed hawk circling overhead.
 
And larks, wrens and mockingbirds to wake you with their songs in the morning,” Tamara happily declared.

“And not a Starbucks in sight,” complained Juliette.
 
“The nearest good steakhouse is probably all the way down in Albuquerque, and you’ll have to go farther to find a sushi bar.”

“City gal, huh?”

“Damned right,” agreed Juliette.
 
“Was born and raised in New York City.
 
Best food and shows in the world.”

In the interests of good relations, Tamara did not mention that New York also led the world in muggings, rudeness and traffic jams, not to mention high prices.

“Still...” Juliette conceded, “It is peaceful out here.”

Dinner that night was, as Dr. Myers promised, barbequed steaks served with baked potatoes and steamed broccoli.
 
Dessert was strawberry ice cream.
 
From the private conversations between Myers and Jesus, she guessed that he was seeking assurance that this food was kosher.
 
Myers had rubbed the meat with a seasoning and Tamara found the steak quite good.
 
Apparently, so did Jesus, for he did justice to the steak on his plate.
 
Putting butter in his potato did confuse him a little, but not for long.
 
Tamara noted that he was still having trouble holding the silverware and cutting his meat, but Myers – who was obviously aware of the problem – made no offer to do it for him, so neither did Tamara.
 
She could only imagine the damage that had been done to his wrists, which were no longer covered by bandages but by two wide leather wristbands.

After the dinner, they sat around watching the stars come out.
 
The night was cloudless, and the Milky Way a creamy band of light across the heavens.
 
Filled with a good meal, in the company of friends, there was little need for talk.

“I used to lie on my back and watch the stars turning overhead,” Jesus said.
 
“They were so beautiful.
 
Maybe the finest of my Father’s creations.
 
They still look the same.”

Myers translated for the others.
 
“They are the same.
 
At least something is constant in the universe.”

“Then what is that bright star that moves?” asked Jesus.

“That is the International Space Station,” said Tamara.
 
“There are currently three men and one woman living there.”

She could sense Jesus’ head turn towards her.
 
“Is that like the things I have seen in the sky?
 
What you call...”

“Airplanes,” she supplied.
 
“The ISS is very much like an airplane, only it flies very high up.
 
It goes around the world and only takes ninety-three minutes to do it.”

She could just make out his head shaking in disbelief.
 
But then, he really had no idea just how big the earth was, so a satellite in orbit had little meaning to him.
 
He went back to watching it as it approached the zenith then began a slow descent to the eastern horizon.
 
Maybe he would begin to get an idea tomorrow, she thought.

After a while of more silence, Myers got up to go back into the house, followed shortly by Juliette.
 
With their translator gone, there would not be too much talking going on, but that was fine with Tamara, and apparently Jesus also.
 
They sat and watched the stars grow brighter until there were so many that it was hard to identify the constellations.

Two shooting stars dashed across the sky, one right after the other.
 
She wanted to ask Jesus what his people called meteors, but did not even try.
 
The English words would have no meaning for him.
 
So it was a surprise when, after a period of time, he reached over, placed his hand gently on top of hers and said, quite clearly, “Thank you.”

“For what?” she said before she realized that was the first English she had heard from him.

“For being kind to him,” came Myers’ voice from behind them.
 
Neither had heard him walk up.
 
He spoke a few words to Jesus, and then told Tamara, “Yes, he’s thanking you for all you’ve done for him.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.
 
I’m not even a member of the project.”

“You saved his life.”

“Does he know that?”

“Yes.
 
I told him that zealots had broken in and you stopped them from getting to Jesus.
 
Not the absolute truth, but a version he would understand.
 
I suspect he thinks they were agents of the High Priest.
 
He also thanks you for showing him your auto.
 
I fear he is more impressed with that flashy sports car of yours than he is of most of our technology.
 
He can relate to that more than he can some machines he hasn’t seen and would never understand anyway.”

Jesus started to remove his hand, but Tamara put her other hand on top of his.
 
“You are welcome,” she said slowly, wondering if his limited vocabulary would cover that.
 
She thought she saw him nod just before he pulled his hand back.