Temple Boys by Jamie Buxton Read Free Book Online Page B

holy robes from being despoiled by unholy dung. Trembling lambs glared white in the gray light. The air was thick with sheep stench and bleats.
    â€œWhat are we doing here?” Flea asked. He hated the sheep market; the lambs seemed to know what was about to happen to them.
    â€œMy official duties for the day are to go and buy a sheep for our feast.”
    â€œShouldn’t take long.”
    â€œAnd a couple of other pieces of business. That’s where you come in.”
    â€œWhat do I do?”
    Jude looked at Flea. “Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. If it works out, I’ll be back in favor and that might help you.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œIf your gang wants to hang out with mine and I say you’re part of my gang, then your gang will start sucking up to you as sure as this little lamb’s going to be grilled.” Jude turned swiftly to business. “Here! What do you want for this one?”
    He was calling to a Wild Man, a nomad from the eastern desert dressed from head to toe in black. The man’s daughter, with hair the color of desert sand and eyes lined heavily with black pencil, was kicking her heels against a wall. She stuck out her tongue at Flea. Her feet were bare, her clothes were rags, and the chain that looped from her nose to her ear was gold.
    â€œWhat are you staring at?” Flea asked.
    â€œYour face,” she said. “What are you doing with Jude?”
    Flea glanced across at Jude, who was haggling in a relaxed, practiced way.
    â€œHelping him.”
    â€œHah! He must be desperate,” the girl jeered.
    â€œHe’s paying me.”
    â€œWhat? A mite? Two?”
    â€œHalf a shekel,” Flea lied.
    The girl’s eyes widened and she jumped down off the wall. “Father! Double the price! The rumors are true. It’s the end of the world and Jude’s throwing his money away!”
    The two men looked at her and laughed. Then they touched hands and Jude walked off with his head up, not looking to left or right.
    Flea had to jog to keep up with him. “How do you know them?” he asked. It wasn’t often he felt superior.
    â€œUnlike you, I have a lot of friends.”
    â€œBut they’re not … our people. They’re unclean.”
    Jude laughed. “You’re not so clean yourself and, anyway, do you really think you know who you are?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWho are your parents, Flea?”
    â€œI don’t know. Dead, I think.”
    â€œRemember them?” Jude asked coldly.
    â€œNo, but…”
    â€œSo for all you know, you’re a Wild Boy yourself.”
    â€œI’m not!” Flea said, suddenly hot. “I can’t be.”
    A lump blocked his throat. He had a memory that he guarded like a dog guards a bone: a courtyard, a storehouse, towering earthenware jars, a woman who looked at him from a doorway. He knew that once this had been his home and she was his mother, but he didn’t like to think about it too often because the feeling choked him.
    Jude pulled Flea around and saw the look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was wrong of me. I just meant that it doesn’t matter whether you’re high priest or Wild Boy or child of the streets. What’s in here: that’s what counts.” He thumped his chest.
    Flea said nothing.
    â€œWhat?” Jude asked. “You want me to beg forgiveness? Crawl on my knees? Why are you staring at me like that?”
    â€œJust imagining what you’d look like hacked to bits.”
    â€œHow many?”
    â€œFifty.”
    â€œOuch. I’m hurt.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œCut to the quick.”
    â€œThat’s such a lame joke.”
    â€œI’m all in pieces.”
    â€œIt was funny at first, now it’s not.” They walked on.
    â€œAnyway,” Flea continued. “What did the Wild Girl mean about the end of the world?”
    â€œHold your idiot