The Last Last Supper
by Anne O'Day

Some people swore that the house was haunted. While it did stand unoccupied and in complete disarray, they were wrong to think it was anything more than simply abandoned.

Until John arrived.

The back door was secured by a hasp and padlock. John destroyed the hasp, letting the padlock drop to the ground and allowing the door to swing open. He had learned to conserve enough energy in order to manage such feats about once a year. He had also learned that his colleagues preferred the normalcy of open doors, closed windows, and indoor plumbing.

Matthew was the next to arrive. He brought a nacho chips bag that he rested on the counter, and placed a receipt ceremoniously on the center island of the kitchen, a seed for the receipt pile. As was their custom, the two did not talk while they waited. They knew the others would be along soon.

The threshold was crossed next by Thomas. It was no surprise that his hands were empty, tucked neatly under each other’s elbows. Philip and Bartholomew followed soon after. Bartholomew tossed a large bag of fruits and vegetables on the counter. When he saw the incredulous expression on John’s face, he shrugged and said, “What? Light as a feather!” Matthew noted the lack of receipts.

Simon and Jude entered the kitchen next. The latter brought a bouquet of balloons, many bearing the phrase, “Get Well Soon.” The former eagerly opened his robe to display plastic bags filled with a variety of substances and announced, “Dudes, let’s get this party started!” Matthew’s receipt remained lonely.

John spoke, “It’s 3:16 already, and supper’s at 5. Where are all the others?”

Matthew replied, “Oh, they’ll be here by 5, they know when it is. What I want to know is whether He’s finally going to come. We’ve been doing this for how many years now?”

Thomas piped up, “Why bother asking? You know He’s not going to show. How many thousands of times do we have to do this before you finally get it thru your thick skull? He. Is. Not. Coming!” After his booming delivery of these emphatic words, all eyes fell awkwardly to the solo receipt, and mouths remained shut.

The eternity of silence that followed was broken by voices drifting in from the yard. Peter was leading a group of four that included Andrew and the two Jameses. “Looky what I found! These bums were wandering around town trying to ask for directions. It’s kind of hard to give directions to someone you don’t know is there. So I netted them in and brought ‘m with me.”

Philip spoke up, “Well, at least you didn’t bring Judas. I sure could live without his sorry a—“ SLAM!

Gravity had tried to close the back door, but it had just been thrust open by Judas, who now leaned against its frame. With the enthusiasm and mannerisms of a ringmaster, he began, “Gentlemen! I was sworn to secrecy!” Dramatic pause. “But, you’re not going to believe it anyway, so what if I tell?” A longer pause. “He’s actually coming this time!”

Gasps and anxious murmuring filled the room. A breeze rushed in to tickle the offerings on the counter, and to steal Matthew’s receipt. Thomas asked defiantly, “Where’s your proof?”

Judas Iscariot shifted his weight to stand straighter and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and eleven pairs of eyes rested on it.

The clock struck five.

Nothing was ever the same again after that.

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