Found. Morgan Rice

Found - Morgan Rice


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And when he lived, no one counted the year based on Jesus’ birth – most people didn’t even know who he was! So if we ask people what year it is, they’ll think we’re crazy.”

      Caleb looked around, carefully, as if searching for clues, and Caitlin did, too.

      “I do sense that he’s in this time,” Caleb said slowly. “Just not in this place.”

      Caitlin examined the village with a new respect.

      “But this village,” she said, “it seems so small, so humble. It’s not like a great, biblical city, like I would imagine. It just looks like any other desert town.”

      “You’re right,” Caleb answered, “but this is where he lived. It wasn’t some grand place. It was here, among these people.”

      They continued walking and finally turned a corner and came to a small square in the center of town. It was a simple little square, around which were small buildings and in the center of which sat a well. Caitlin looked around and spotted a few elderly men sitting in the shade, holding canes, staring at the empty, dusty town square.

      They made their way over to the well. Caleb reached out and turned the rusty crank, and slowly the weathered rope pulled up a pail of water.

      Caitlin reached out, cupped the cold water with her hands, and splashed her face. It felt so refreshing in the heat. She splashed her face again, then splashed her long hair, running her hands through it. It was dusty and greasy, and the cold water felt like heaven. She’d give anything for a shower. She then leaned over, cupped some more, and drank. Her throat was parched, and it hit the spot. Caleb did the same.

      They both finally leaned back, against the well, and surveyed the square. There didn’t seem to be any special buildings, any special markers or clues of where they should go.

      “So where now?” she finally asked.

      Caleb looked around, squinting into the sun, holding his hands to his eyes. He seemed as at a loss as she.

      “I don’t know,” he said flatly. “I’m stumped.”

      “In other times and places,” he continued, “it seemed like churches and monasteries always held our clues. But in this time period, there is no church. There is no Christianity. There are no Christians. It was only after Jesus died that people began to create a religion after him. In this time period, there is only religion. Jesus’ religion: Judaism. After all, Jesus was Jewish.”

      Caitlin tried to process it all. It was all so complex. If Jesus was Jewish, she figured, that meant he must have prayed in a synagogue. Suddenly, she had a thought.

      “So then, maybe the best place to look is the place where Jesus prayed. Maybe we should be looking for a synagogue.”

      “I think you’re right,” Caleb said. “After all, the only other religious practice of that time, if you can even call it that, was paganism – the worshipping of idols. And I’m sure Jesus wouldn’t worship in a pagan temple.”

      Caitlin looked around the town again, squinting, searching for any building that resembled a synagogue. But she found none. They were all just simple abodes.

      “I don’t see anything,” she said. “All the buildings look the same to me. They’re all just small houses.”

      “I don’t either,” Caleb said.

      There was a long silence, as Caitlin tried to process it all. Her mind raced with possibilities.

      “Do you think that my Dad and the shield are somehow connected to all this?” Caitlin asked. “Do you think that going to the places where Jesus was will lead us to my Dad?”

      Caleb narrowed his eyes, as he seemed to think for a long time.

      “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But clearly, your Dad is guarding a very great secret. A secret not just for the vampire race, but for all humanity. A shield, or a weapon, that will change the nature of the entire human race, for all time. It must be very powerful. And it seems to me, that if anyone was meant to help lead us to your father, it would be someone very powerful. Like Jesus. It would make sense to me. Maybe, to find one, we have to find the other. After all, it is your cross that unlocked so many keys to get us here. And nearly all of our clues we found in churches and monasteries.”

      Caitlin tried to take it all in. Was it possible that her Dad knew Jesus? Was he one of his disciples? The idea was staggering, and her sense of mystery around him deepened.

      She sat there on the well, looking around the sleepy village, stumped. She had no idea where to even begin to look. Nothing at all stood out to her. And even more, she was feeling increasingly desperate to find Scarlet. Yes, she wanted to find her Dad more than ever; she felt the four keys practically burning in her pocket. But she saw no obvious way to use them – and it was hard to even focus on him with thoughts of Scarlet in her mind. The idea that she was all alone out there tore her apart. Who knew if she was even safe?

      But then again, she had no idea where to look for Scarlet either. She felt an increasing sense of hopelessness.

      Suddenly, a shepherd appeared through the gate, walking slowly into the town square, followed by his flock of sheep. He wore a long white robe and hood covering his head from the sun and headed towards them, holding a staff. At first, Caitlin thought that he was walking right to them. But then she realized: the well. He was merely coming to get something to drink, and they were in the way.

      As he walked in, the sheep swarmed all around him, filling the square, all heading for the well. They must have known it was watering time. Within moments, Caitlin and Caleb found themselves in the midst of the flock, the delicate animals nudging them out of the way so they could get to the water. Their impatient bleating filled the air, as they waited for their shepherd to tend to them.

      Caitlin and Caleb moved aside as the shepherd approached the well, turning the rusty crank, and slowly raising the pail. As he went to lift it, he pulled back his hood.

      Caitlin was surprised to see that he was young. He had a large shock of blond hair, a blonde beard, and bright blue eyes. He smiled, and she could see the sun lines in his face, crinkling around his eyes, and could feel the warmth and kindness radiating off of him.

      He took the overflowing pail of water, and, despite the sweat all over his forehead, despite the fact that he appeared thirsty, he turned and poured the first bucket of water into the trough at the base of the well. The sheep crowded in, bleating, muscling each other out of the way as they drank.

      Caitlin was overcome by the strangest feeling that perhaps this man knew something, that perhaps he was put in their path for a reason. If Jesus lived in this time, she figured, maybe this man would have heard of him?

      Caitlin felt a pang of nervousness, as she cleared her throat.

      “Excuse me?” she asked.

      The man turned and looked at her, and she felt the intensity in his eyes.

      “We are looking for someone. I’m wondering if you might know if he lives here.”

      The man narrowed his eyes, and as he did, Caitlin felt as if he were seeing right through her. It was uncanny.

      “He lives,” the man replied, as if reading her mind. “But he is in this place no longer.”

      Caitlin could hardly believe it. It was true.

      “Where has he gone?” Caleb asked. Caitlin heard the intensity in his voice, and could sense how desperately he wanted to know.

      The man shifted his gaze to Caleb.

      “Why, to the Galilee,” the man responded, as if it were obvious. “To the sea.”

      Caleb narrowed his eyes.

      “Capernaum?” Caleb asked tentatively.

      The man nodded back.

      Caleb’s eyes opened wide in recognition.

      “There are many followers on the trail,” the man said cryptically. “Seek and ye shall find.”

      The shepherd suddenly lowered his head,


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