Unleashing himself from Judas' side, JC moved over to his mother and sat lightly on the coffee table. She smiled at him and he at her. JC had her eyes and her hair. Judas had only ever seen photos of JC's dad but he couldn't look more different than the man sitting with his mother. JC was definitely Mary's son, however, right down the olive touch to his skin. He took her hands and leaned forward.

"Can I get you anything before Judas and I go to bed?"

Mary said she was absolutely fine, but pulled her hand from his to touch his cheek. "You're so pale, Jesus. What have you been doing?"

"Moving a bus," JC said and put his hand over his heart. "Honestly. To Bart's garage. We're going to fix it up."

She really did look skeptical then, glancing to Judas for confirmation. "If that is what you want to do with your time," she said, like all good Jewish mothers. "But you should get back to your studies. Or to work. You make such beautiful things, Jesus. Your aunt was over the other day and mentioned how much she would like a table like the one you built--"

JC was calm as he stood. "I will be building, mum. I have very important things to build."