Free Long After Midnight by Ray Bradbury Page A

abilities
which allow them to walk in .our towns, fooling us with masks and visions, and
none of us the wiser?"
                 "I
do so believe."
                 "Then
this," said the Bishop, handing around brandies and creme -de-menthes,
"is a true evening of frustrations. Martians who will not reveal
themselves so as to be Saved by Us the Enlightened—"
                 Many
smiles at this.
                 "—and
Second Comings of Christ delayed for several thousand years. How long must we
wait, O Lord?"
                 "As
for myself," said young Father Niven , "I
never wished to be Christ, the Second
Coming. I just always wanted, with all my heart, to meet Him. Ever since I was eight I have thought on that. It might
well be the first reason I became a priest."
                 "To
have the inside track just in case He ever did arrive again?" suggested the Rabbi, kindly.
                 The
young Priest grinned and nodded. The others felt the urge to reach and touch
him, for he had touched some vague small sweet nerve in each. They felt immensely
gentle.
                 "With
your permission, Rabbi, gentlemen," said Bishop Kelly, raising his glass.
"To the First Coming of the Messiah, or the Second Coming of Christ. May
they be more than some ancient, some foolish dreams."
                 They
drank and were quiet.
                 The
Bishop blew his nose and wiped his eyes.
                 The
rest of the evening was like many another for the Priests, the Reverends, and
the Rabbi. They fell to playing cards and arguing St. Thomas Aquinas, but
failed under the onslaught of Rabbi Nittler's educated
logic. They named him Jesuit, drank nightcaps, and listened to the late radio
news:
                 "—it
is feared this Martian may feel trapped in our community. Anyone meeting him
should turn away, so as to let the Martian pass. Curiosity seems his motive. No
cause for alarm. That concludes our—"
                 While
heading for the door, the Priests, Ministers, and Rabbi discussed translations
they had made into various tongues from Old and New Testaments. It was then
that young Father Niven surprised them:
                 "Did
you know I was once asked to write a screenplay on the Gospels? They needed an ending for their film!"
                 "Surely,"
protested the Bishop, "there's only one ending to Christ's life?"
                 "But,
Your Holiness, the Four Gospels tell it with four variations. I compared. I grew
excited. Why? Because I rediscovered something I had almost forgotten. The Last
Supper isn't really the Last Supper!"
                 "Dear
me, what is it then?"
                 "Why,
Your Holiness, the first of several, sir. The first of several! After the
Crucifixion and Burial of Christ, did not Simon-called-Peter, with the
Disciples, fish the Sea of Galilee?"
                 "They
did."
                 "And
their nets were filled with a miracle of fish?"
                 "They
were."
                 "And
seeing on the shore of Galilee a pale light, did they not land and approach
what seemed a bed of white-hot coals on which fresh-caught fish were
baking?"
                 "Yes,
ah, yes," said the Reverend Smith.
                 "And
there beyond the glow of the soft charcoal fire, did they not sense a Spirit
Presence and call out to it?"
                 "They
did."
                 "Getting
no answer, did not Simon-called-Peter whisper again, 'Who is there?' And the
unrecognized Ghost upon the shore of Galilee put out its hand into the
firelight, and in the palm of that hand, did they not see the mark where the
nail had gone in, the stigmata that would never heal?
                 "They
would have fled, but the Ghost spoke and said, Take of these fish and feed