He had been the fourth to be called by Jesus, this strapping son of Salome and Zebedee who had fished the Galilean waters with his brother and father since childhood. Impetuous and short-tempered, he more than John had earned for the two of them the title “sons of thunder.” Once, when a village of Samaritans did not show what he considered proper respect for Jesus, he had begged his master to call down the fires of heaven in order to consume them, only to be reminded by Jesus that the “Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them.” Jesus must have seen much that was admirable in this fierce-looking extrovert, for he had been almost as much a favorite as his brother, John, who had been called “the beloved disciple.”

Joseph of Arimathea, bless him, made it easy for me. After introducing us, he told James of my mission and explained that Matthew had already been of great help in my search for the truth about Jesus. Then he went directly to the question he thought I would probably ask first.

“James,” the old man said, “recalling that terrible night here, when they arrested Jesus, where did you go when you ran off into the darkness after alerting the others that Jesus had been taken prisoner?”

James scowled angrily at Joseph, clenching and unclenching his fists.

The old man raised his hand and said reassuringly, “There is no danger in your telling Matthias. He is my friend. Ignore his purple stripe and instead look on him only as a possible recruit to our cause. Have we not heard the Lord’s brother, in the courtyard, telling the people many times that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death?”

Joseph’s words didn’t thrill me too much, but they had their desired effect on James. The big man ran his thick stubby fingers nervously through his long black hair and said, “You want to know where I, the coward, escaped to on that night we abandoned the Lord?”

“Yes,” the old man said gently.

“I—I went through the woods and over the mount to the house of Martha and Mary, running as if Satan himself pursued me.”

At last I found my voice and asked, “Were you the first to arriver?”

“No,” he replied, still eyeing me suspiciously. “Andrew and Simon had preceded me. But long before dawn all the others had placed their timid knuckles on the sisters’ door.”

“All nine of you were there? Are you positive?”

James avoided my eyes. “How could I ever forget?”

“And what did all of you do after you came together?”

“We went out into the woods, behind the house, and lay in the weeds like the worms we were.”

“And how long did you remain there?”