Chapter 5

The fishermen stiffened their backs and stared at young John as if he were a stranger. Simon broke the silence.

‘No, John, no!’ he muttered. ‘We can’t have any of that, you know!’

Old Zebedee scrambled to his feet, pointed a shaky finger at his son, and shouted, ‘That’s the first time I ever heard you lie!’

James, habitually tolerant of his father’s incessant airing of his views, now surprised them all by rising to face the noisy old man with a stern rebuke.

‘My brother is not a liar, sir!’ he exclaimed. ‘Johnny may have misunderstood what he saw, but I will not sit here silently and hear him reviled as a liar—not even by his father!’

‘It’s a long, hard climb—up that hill,’ put in Andrew, ‘and yesterday was a hot day.’

‘Aye,’ nodded Alphaeus, to his immediate neighbours, ‘the boy must have been a bit out of his head.’

‘No, Johnny,’ mumbled Simon, ‘that’s much too much! Such things don’t happen.’

John hung his head, not as if he resented their disbelief, but regretful that he had consented to tell the story. Suddenly the murmurs ceased as Simon held up a hand for silence.

‘Well, Johnny, you may as well go on with it,’ he said roughly. ‘You can see that you’ve nothing to lose. Nobody believes you—but we’d better have the rest of it, if there is any more. Did this fortunate fellow, with the healed arm, thank the Carpenter—and maybe hand him a shekel?’

‘The people were stunned!’ muttered John, without looking up. ‘A woman standing next to the man fainted and crumpled up on the ground. The man himself was panting hard, making queer little squeaks in his throat. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to laugh or cry. Everybody was quiet—and pale. I felt a little sick in my stomach, the way you feel at the sight of a bleeding wound—only—I think—the shock of seeing a deformed arm suddenly made well is worse than seeing a bad accident…While we were all standing there, gaping at the arm, the Carpenter said, “Now, my friend, you can bear burdens. See to it that you do—or a worse thing might come upon you.”‘ John’s voice was unsteady as he finished his story. After an interval of silence, he rose slowly and faced the company with sober eyes. ‘I know that you do not believe what I have told you,’ he declared—’but may God strike me dead if it is not the truth!’

‘Blasphemy!’ yelled old Zebedee.

‘I’m not saying you lied, Johnny,’ said Simon, ‘but I do think you have been seeing things—like the strange animals you find in the clouds. It’s no harm to imagine things in the sky—but this is different! I only hope you aren’t losing your mind! Tell us truly now: were you out there at all? Did you really see this Carpenter? I think you dreamed it—all of it—while you were asleep under a tree.’

This brought on nervous laughter.