“‘Have you ever doubted his words, Peter?” Mark said at last. It was the question he had long wanted to ask. The question he had long needed to ask. The question that needed asking now, if ever it would be asked.
Peter chuckled softly. “Doubted? Many times. The words of eternity often seemed far beyond the reach of me, simple-minded Galilean fisherman that I was...and am still. Ah, Mark, it was easy to doubt his words in the hours after he had died. Easy too to doubt in the days after he had ascended to heaven...easy to doubt when the days were hard, and his voice seemed far away. Yes, I have doubted, Mark, but not for long. Never for long. His face, his voice, came—comes—to me and all doubts fly away.”
Peter’s face changed. There was no more laughter. His eyes flamed like fire. “No more, Mark, no more do I doubt! The time spent below, down there—” Peter nodded toward the place where the trapdoor on the dungeon lay hidden from view—“first brought all of my doubts to life. Real things, not shadows. Real things, with demon faces and demon fangs. The dungeon first brought them to life and then killed them forever.
“He was there, Mark, the Master was there, in the darkness, close to me, closer than you are tonight. Not at first, but as I despaired and cried out to God, then fought against the demon-thoughts, the demon-faces…as I resisted and sought to remember Galilee, Jerusalem, his face, his voice. I woke one night, after...after Canisius had crept down into that place with a torch in his hand and...” Peter’s hands were trembling; so was his voice. “After that, when I awoke, Jesus was there...and the doubts were gone.”
Peter’s head was turned, his eyes gazing out the bars of his cell. A distant, echoing scream rose up from the dungeon. Peter’s eyes narrowed. At the back of the cell a rat scurried along the wall. Peter kicked out his leg. It disappeared. “No,” Peter said. He turned to Mark. “No, the time of doubting is gone.”
LISTEN! Reading from Judean Days, the sequel to Galilean Nights. Coming soon!
