Gethsemane … The word, the name has haunted me for a lifetime. From Gaspar, Another Tale of the Christ …
“Raised voices of repressed anger rumble above us. Heavy footsteps, perhaps a scuffle. A chair grinds the floor, another falls heavily. Footsteps to the doorway, then down the steps outside. A figure halts and stares into the room, probably not expecting to see us. The man’s hair and eyes are dark, indecision and worry etched into the lines on his brow, so deep that they are shadowed. He turns and takes a step toward the stairway, maybe thinking to return.
“He takes his head in his hands as if holding it together. He is in pain, more mental than physical. His anguish is visible in every drop of sweat that falls from his forehead. ‘Damn, him! Damn them all,’ he whispers under his breath. He runs into the street and disappears into the night.
“More footsteps above us. Someone standing on the balcony calls into the darkness with a restrained and husky voice, ‘Judas. Judas. Please come back.’
“But Judas, if that was his name is gone.”