THE GOSPEL OF TRAVIS - Chapter Seven
Travis has a hissy fit over Mary Magdalene, tries (but fails) to work through his feelings about women and Samaritans.
A WOMAN MOST UNCLEAN
It was around this time when Travis first witnessed a sight that brought him great distress.
In the morning of that day, Travis conducted some business with a supplier whereupon he threatened and then flattered and then threatened again and then finally begged them to fulfill a shipment of plaster to his shop. Travis used his cunning business acumen to navigate this tricky situation. Also, he was made to pay an old invoice that Travis had somehow missed paying, no doubt caused by the intervention of some demon.
These same tricky demons often induced him to negotiate lower payments on his outstanding debts, for paying half a debt is better than paying no debt at all. Although this particular debt he paid in full.
Once the business was concluded, he returned to the Apostles and was appalled to find a woman at the feet of the Lord.
Travis’s own eyes nearly burst forth in outrage from their sockets. “Who is this tramp?!” bellowed he, “And what is she doing so close to the teacher?! How do we know she isn’t unclean, for may not she be menstruating?!”
“Cousin, relax,” said Thomas, “This is Mary who is called Magdalene. She is a friend of the Lord, for indeed he drove seven demons from her body just this morning.”
“Oh. Well. What a relief,” replied Travis sarcastically. “Seven demons inside of her, you say? What great company she must make. I see you all have been busy while I was away.”
“You know, you don’t have to keep coming back here,” remarked Judas Iscariot.
Travis glared back at him. “It seems our rabbi needs at least one sane person around him with a sense of propriety who can guide him when he has these moments of ill-advised feminine fancies.”
But, though Travis offered very sound advice that was not-at-all tainted by any irrational fears, the Lord and the others had moved on to more pleasant topics of discussion with Mary.
Later, as Jesus was off reflecting, as he often did, and as the Apostles enjoyed some downtime, Travis found Mary by a nearby stream cooling her feet. Thinking quickly, Travis found a dirty garment of his and brought it to the stream.
“Behold, Harlot, I have brought a garment that should be cleaned,” said Travis to the woman.
“Now who’s unclean? I suppose that you had better wash it yourself,” replied Mary without so much as a glance his way.
Travis grunted, for he expected her to immediately take the burden of cleaning the cloth upon herself. However, as he wanted to remain nearby that he might suss out her true intentions, Travis began to dunk the garment into the flowing water and make a show of jostling it around.
“I’ve heard you had seven demons exorcised from your body,” mentioned Travis. “How long before we meet the eighth?”
Mary looked up from rubbing water between her toes and squinted. “I’m sorry, who are you supposed to be?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You know very well I’m Travis, the thirteenth Apostle.”
“I’ve never heard of a thirteenth Apostle,” remarked Mary.
“Well I have and I am. And if that’s true, that you’ve not heard of me, then you are a fool. Everybody knows...”
“I’ve heard of Twelve Apostles,” she interrupted. “Twelve has a nice ring to it. Thirteen is unlucky.”
Travis scowled at her. His disdain for her mixed with a feeling not felt since the days of his second ex-wife, a strange combination of antipathy but also the arousal of his blood. Indeed his loins began to stir in ways reminiscent of his early days haggling with potential buyers. It was very confusing.
He shook his head to tamp down the surging emotions, then declared, “I care not for what is unlucky, and I’d thank you to keep your superstitions to yourself.”
“And I’d thank you to keep your questions about demons to yours,” replied Mary.
Thomas arrived at the stream to find his second cousin sputtering in rage. “Come with me,” said Thomas, “For I have something I wish to discuss with you.”
Mary gave Travis a disdainful wave as he left with Thomas.
“What must the Lord be thinking? To allow the presence of women taint his company?” began Travis before Thomas cut him off.
“Listen to me. These people are not just my friends. They have become my brothers and sisters. I know that showing others respect has never been your strength unless they had something you wanted, but if you insist on coming around then could you at least try not to embarrass me?”
“I can show respect, kinsman, and out of respect for you I shall be quiet and respectful to the others for the rest of the day. On that you have my solemn promise,” said Travis. “Although I make no promises if I’m provoked by yet another harlot.”
THE LONG WALK TO TOWN
That afternoon, Jesus sent some of his Apostles into the nearest village to find food. As they walked, Travis entertained his companions and buoyed their spirits with lengthy speeches about topics of great interest to him.
“I thank God every day I was not born a woman,” he declared. “It would be better the holy scriptures be burned than that they be read by a woman. Am I right or what?”
“Why do you insist on talking about this?” asked Judas. “We’ve been walking for an hour and you will not so much as stop to take a breath. What happened to you that you hate women so much?”
“I don’t hate women. What’s that supposed to mean? Shut up, Judas!” spat Travis. “I love women. And women love me. Many women have. Not my mother, or my last wife, but those were extenuating circumstances that have nothing to do with me. Especially my mother. I only ask that they know their place, which is below me.
“I am very successful with the ladies,” he continued, and nobody questioned him further.
“I only worry about the soundness of the Lord’s judgement in allowing her to remain among us,” he resumed. “Not that I would ever second guess our dear Lord and Savior. But if this keeps happening, if we keep associating with trollops and whores, pretty soon people will think Jesus will take anyone.”
“Yes,” said Simon, often known as Peter.
“I mean to say that any undesirables anywhere could end up following us around,” continued Travis. “Even people we might not like or want to be associated with.”
“Yes,” said Simon Peter again.
“That is the point,” remarked one of the Jameses.
“Even Sodomites? Is that what you want? Women and Sodomites in our midst, learning about forgiveness and the loving of neighbors?” asked Travis.
Simon Peter stopped walking, turned to him and said, “If our Fathers’ command is to love then who are we to turn our hearts away? So long as the Lord instructs me to love, I will do so.”
With that, the Apostles resumed walking. They travelled through the desert, under the constant battery of the relentless sun.
“And this has nothing to do with my mother, by the way,” ejaculated Travis, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Nobody is thinking anything at all,” remarked the other James with some consternation. “If I’m thinking anything, it’s imagining how nice it would be to walk through this barren wilderness in peace and quiet. I would rather never sip water again than to drink a cupful while listening to one more syllable of your incessant ramblings. Now please just walk in silence.”
And in silence they walked. For at least another mile, they listened to naught but the sand blowing in the wind, before Travis finally muttered, “Women are meant to be ruled. That’s my point. It’s human nature.”
CONSORTING WITH THE SAMARITAN WOMAN
After Travis and his companion Apostles had procured some food, they returned to Jesus only to find him speaking with a Samaritan Woman at a well. Like most other water wells around the countryside, this was a very popular place for people to waggle their chins. Even so, to find a Samaritan speaking with a Jew, especially a rabbi, was a rare sight indeed.
As they drew closer, they overheard the Samaritan woman say, “I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Anointed; when he comes, he will tell us everything.” To which Jesus replied, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
The woman was so overcome with excitement that she abandoned her water jug to go into town and spread the news.
After she had passed by, Travis muttered to Thomas, “Why was he talking to her, not just a woman but also a Samaritan? We do not get along with their kind, those heretics. Does this mean we have to like the filthy Samaritans too? Heretical Samaritans and trollops and sodomites and who else?”
“I’m trying not to doubt the ways of the Lord.”
“That’s quite a statement,” noted Travis, “For you have always had a mistrusting heart. And it’s not just me who says so. No offense.”
“No, I know this has been a weakness of mine.”
“Maybe it’s not a weakness. Maybe your heart is trying to warn you to be on your guard,” muttered Travis.
Meanwhile, Simon Peter held out some bread to Jesus and said, “We’ve brought food for you, rabbi.”
But Jesus turned it down, saying, “I have food to eat of which you do not know. My food is to do the will of the one who sent me and to finish his work.”
Travis, who was holding an armful of bread, looked from the loaves to the Lord and back. “Sooooo. Dibs on his share of bread?
“I’d take the woman’s water jug too, if she’s not coming back for it.”
THE SHEEPDOG
That night, Travis took the Samaritan woman’s jug to the well and washed it. Though he had not seen her close up or had the chance to inspect her hands, he believed Samaritans to be a greasy people and wanted to be sure to wash away any skin oils from his newly procured ceramic. Finally satisfied with his work, he hoisted the jug upon his shoulder and headed for the campfire.
As he approached the edge of the light cast by the flames, Travis overhead Thomas speaking in a low voice.
“You have to understand, he did not have the best examples to follow. He knew neither of his rumored fathers, and his grandfather was known around the village as ‘the Great Deceiver,’ the sort of man who seemed to lie for pleasure. My aunt did her best to help raise him, so he would often come around when we were both young. That’s how he ended up stealing our sheepdog, Jonah. Twice. I loved him so much. I used to feed him off of my own plate, such was my affection for the adorable brute. One day Jonah went missing, and when my aunt found out what had happened, she forced my cousin to return the dog to us. And still he stole it again, not three weeks later.”
“The mutt would eat its own vomit,” piped up Travis as he left the shadows and stepped into the light. Thomas turned, aghast to be overheard. “It was hilarious to watch. Forgive me. I did not have much in the way of entertainment as a child. Watching that shaggy, dumb mongrel chew his own sick was the closest thing I had to a bedtime story. Of course, I don’t have to tell you, Thomas. You obviously know my family so well.”
“Cousin...” he began, but Travis waved him off.
“No, please. Tell them all of the family secrets. You speak of respect, yet this is how I find you. Talking behind my back.”
“I’m sorry. Forgive me. I only meant...”
”Save it,” said Travis. “I think I’ll turn in for the night. Enjoy the last embers of your fire, brothers.”
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