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“Blue, blue,” chubby little fingers pointed at the sky, “blue.”
It was a warm sunny day. The sky was a bright blue hue, with little to no clouds visible. Laughter could be heard from a distance. The sound was vibrant—like a burst of colours. The type of laughter that put a smile on your face if you walked by.
It radiated joy, and something pure.
Children. Young men. Boys.
‘Oh how nice it must feel to be alive,’ thought the lily in the valley as the two boys rushed passed in a blur, dust spilling in the air as they ran through the halls of Galilee.
“Amos!”
Amos had a head full of curly black hair. It bounced in motion as he threw his head back and laughed out his belly. His eyes crinkled, half-way shut, inside were golden brown orbs with dark bits of chocolate chips. His scarred skin a pretty dark brown almost glittering under the sun.
A few scars trailed down his legs and arms.
“Wait fo' me Mo’!” James, his younger brother screeched tailing behind him. His little arms tried to grasp Amos by the hem of his shirt but he missed, almost tripping over his own feet. “Amos!”
“Jamsey!” Nathaniel turned, and smiled at the child, peering down at his level. “What brings you here little guy?”
Nathaniel was pale, tall and slender young man at fifteen-years old.
He was Amos's best friend, a year older than him too.
“I told you not to follow me!” Amos groaned, lips pressing in a thin line. He rubbed his face with his hand, and ‘tched.’ “Abba’s gonna kill me. Did you at least tell Immi where you went?”
“Yep,” James smiled cheekily, a mischievous glint in brown eyes. Wooden toy tucked in his well-worn trousers. “Sure did.”
Amos pondered whether he should take the four-year old home or not.
Abba already doesn't want me following Rabbi, if James comes too he'll be furious!
Amos’s father, a fisherman didn't like him following the Rabbi.
He told the boy that Jesus was misleading him, demon possed and a liar.
Amos got chills just thinking about his old man. He got shoved around because of it — got yelled at — but that didn't stop the fourteen-year-old from seeking the truth.
He knew that Jesus was speaking the truth.
He could feel it, hear it in his voice.
“I wanna see Jesus! I don't care what Abba says Mo’. I wanna be like you.”
His eyes softened, and a small smile played on his lips at his brothers words. The child knew this what to say to melt brother's heart
“Fine.”
“Yay!”
“Well then let's race!” Nathaniel hollered, tugging Amos along. “Woo—hoo! C'mon.”
The older boy’s cheeks blossomed from the heat. From his nose and neck down the redhead was littered with faint freckles. Nathaniel was a menace when he had time, and he had lots of time.
“Where do you get the energy Nate?” Amos shook his head but the smile never left his face. “It's too hotbright now, we just raced till here.”
He grabbed his little brothers clamy hand in his own, and grimaced at the feel.
“Stop acting so nonchalant you were the one who got me into this, mister disciple. Nate, Nate the Messiah is here! It's really him!”
“Yeah yeah,” Amos rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and cracked a shy grin. “It is one of Jesus's teachings so we can't miss it.”
“Got that right! Do you think we'll get food again?” Nathaniel beamed, rubbing his stomach. “I can't believe how much we got last time, it was like a baffei of fish and bread.”
The redhead was talking about the time they had fish and bread on the mountain while Jesus taught. They had so much that there was baskets full leftover. It was a miracle; rumour has it there was a boy with two loaves and five fish who gave it to Rabbi, who in turn multiplied it to thousands!
“Idiot,” Amos said, but snickered in response.
Jesus words were his food. They filled him with a feeling he'd never experienced before.
It made Amos feel light—brand new.
“Maybe, definitely.”