“Look, John, don’t be a jerk about this,” Pops says. “The Roman authorities are threatening to pull my liquor license, so just show me your damn ID. You don’t even look like you’re shaving yet!”
John doesn’t want Pops to get in trouble, so he pulls out his Galilean identification. Still, he can’t resist messing with Pops. “I’ve been coming here for a few years, Pops, so if you don’t know my age … wait, you’re not getting senile, are you?”
“Watch it, kid,” Pops says, winking. “What are you drinking tonight?”
“Hmm,” John muses, “how about an elderflower and lime martini?”
“Sure,” Pops deadpans, “as long as you don’t mind no lime and no elderflower, whatever that is.”
“An old fashioned then?”
“That I can do,” Pops answers.
The pool hall is quiet, but it’s still early. The regulars, mostly working stiffs who want a game of pool and a few drinks, are starting to arrive. A couple of Roman soldiers sit alone in the corner, making the locals a little nervous. But the soldiers aren’t looking for trouble. Far away from home, they’re just hoping to be left alone.
Soon Mary Magdalene walks in and grabs the stool next to John. They bump elbows and smile.
“Usual?” Pops asks Mary.
“Please and thank you,” she answers.
While Pops makes a gin and tonic, he quips, “Want me to ask for your ID so you feel young again?”
Mary turns to John and asks, “You think he’s ever going to figure out how stupid his jokes are?”
“Oh, come on,” Pops says, “some of them might be dumb, but you love them anyway. Plus, where else would you find such a wise and handsome bartender?”
“Just gimme the glass, old man.”
John shakes his head and chuckles. He knows Pops and Mary are the same age and have known each other since childhood. Their banter is a constant source of amusement to their friends. He also wonders what Pops and Mary are cooking up.
“Where’s Matthew?” Mary asks John.
“No idea. He’s usually early, so he’ll be here soon.”
“Well, one of the guys I want you to meet just walked in, so let me introduce you,” Mary says, waving over a young man.
“Mark, I want you to meet John. Yes, that John. And John, meet Mark. He’s a writer. A good one.”
The men shake hands and greet each other.
About then Matthew arrives, full of apologies for being late. “Sorry, Peter asked me to help him figure out a few financial things. Our books are a bit blurry after the debacle with he who shall not be named.”
Mark orders a local IPA, and Matthew says he’ll have one as well. Soon, more customers arrive, and the noise level increases. A group of palace guards has started an impromptu arm-wrestling competition at one of the tables, and a couple of farriers laughingly challenge the winner.
Pops has been red-eyed angry at Judas the last several weeks, and the jukebox has reflected that. It’s finally a bit mellower tonight, with Johnny Cash belting out “God’s Gonna Cut You Down”—an improvement on Rage Against the Machine and “You Oughta Know” by Alanis.
Mary half-shouts to the three men, “There’s one more person I invited, but he’s always late. He’s a doctor, and you know what their schedules are like.”
They all nod, fully understanding that some professions are always a bit behind the timeline. “His name is Luke. You’ll like him. He’s a great doctor, very scientific, with a huge heart for the suffering. He definitely fits in our group.”
“And our group is … ” begins John.
“Let’s wait ‘til Luke gets here,” interrupts Mary. “In the meantime, who wants me to take their money in a game of cutthroat?”
Half an hour later, the four of them are bantering across a pool table when Luke finally arrives. Waving to him from across the room, Mary directs the other three to a spot Pops has reserved for them.
“Let’s head to a booth in the back where it’s quieter,” says Mary, “and we can talk in privacy.”
Until tomorrow, when Mary reveals her plan.
Image created by Gemini.