The Man From Afar

I saw him from afar. I saw the way the sun shone differently on his coal hair. I saw the way the beams moved between each curl and I saw how they settled on his face like nothing else. The fabric that veiled his form was common and cheap, yet it lay against his skin like fine silk from Jericho. The earth moved beneath his feet as if he had created it to do so, and the flora seemed to bow away, in fear or in revelry I couldn't tell, as he moved along. Even the way he moved, nimble yet unsure of himself, curious yet cautious, was his alone. I have only one glance of him, something he has not given in return, but I knew everything about him. I knew everything that his presence meant and I knew that his rugged lips would be the ones that would nail me to my cross.

The salt made the air around us dry and the fish within gaped with pruned eyes. The dock was wide and men were busy, and most of them tended to the fish they were instructed to gut, skin and fillet. Few eyed me from their stands, hoping to entice a purchase but I carried no money and craved no fish. What time it was, what day it was, who I was, it did not matter anymore; these questions and their answers were not tangible, existing nowhere. Not now since His plan has been revealed. My fate has always been ironclad, where my life would lead would not deviate and this I knew but it is my human nature to hope it would not be so. Humans were made in my image after all, no? But this future was just that- the future. For now, the present was filled with wooden stalls and belligerent grains of sand rubbing against the monotony of the dock.

"Jesus?"

I turned to face the man behind me. Nathaniel. A disciple, a missionary and a friend. Age had wisened him, his harsh brows furrowed deeper and his cheeks hollowed more to the contours of his skull. Ashen hair clotted on either side of his face, framing him as a haggard, unkempt man. Youth remained in his terracotta eyes, however, his spirit everlasting settled proudly within them. I hoped that this spirit of his that was made just right would remain so, that what will be will not ruin the virtuous man he is.

"Yes, Nathaniel?"

"There's someone I think you should meet."

Turrets of dust formed with Nathaniel's hurried steps and my own languid pace cut through them. Restrained excitement was evident in Nathaniel's quip proposal despite his best efforts to seem collected. We, my disciples and I, needed a treasurer that would manage the materialistic affairs that we could not escape whilst we are on earth. I did not task any of the disciples with this, nor did I expect them to take it upon themselves though it seems like they all did. Nathaniel was the most eager to please. So I followed him as he wove in and out of hordes of people, hurriedly shooting a look at me here and there, the way a mother would to her child. The hordes did what hordes do and paid no attention to us, merely swaying as we knocked shoulders and hips left and right. Nathaniel feared that our pilgrimage would be fruitless, it seemed as if the elusive "someone" had slipped past us but he grabbed my arm and pointed to a figure before panic could settle over him.

"That's him, there, next to the fish drying stand with the old man. I think he could be our treasurer."

I eyed his profile as he fixed his face on the man before us, admiring his oblivious nature and fearing the guilt he will come to face months from now.

"How come?"

"I found him here, bartering with the salesmen to offer him a job as a treasurer. He sounded a smart man."

"Then let us talk to the smart man" The man I saw from afar.

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