Sleet ticked against Walt’s kitchen window. The maple stood bare and black in the yard, and the rain barrel by the porch had grown a skin of ice that Denny had cracked with his boot on the way in. Walt had baked apples going in the oven and a loaf on the board, and his bad knee up on a stool by the stove where the heat could reach it.
Tomás had cut himself a fresh set of cards in highlighter colors and lined them along the edge of the table. Amara came in last, scrubs under her coat, and propped her phone against the sugar bowl. She opened her Bible to twenty-seven and kept her thumb in the margin, right where it belonged.
“Twenty-seven,” said Walt. “Verse one.”
“Luke’s in the first word,” said Denny.
“‘We,’” said Tomás. He read it. “‘And when it was determined that we should sail into Italy, they delivered Paul and certain other prisoners unto one named Julius, a centurion of Augustus’ band.’”
“Mine says ‘when the time came,’” said Amara. “‘When the time came, we set sail for Italy.’”
“Two sentences for one verse,” said Walt. “Which one is Luke’s?”
Amara checked her phone. “The word underneath means decided. Judged. ‘When the time came’ is a translator smoothing it out.”
“Who decided?” said Walt.
“Luke doesn’t say,” said Tomás. “It’s a passive. ‘It was determined.’”
“Thirty-two to one,” said Denny. “The king says he could’ve been set free. Then they’re sailing. How long between?”
They looked. Amara ran her finger across the break and stopped. “No marker. No ‘after two weeks.’ Nothing.”
“Text,” said Tomás, and laid a yellow card. “The gap.”
“What’s missing is a fact too,” said Walt. “What’s on the near side of it?”
“Twenty-five twelve,” said Tomás. “‘Unto Caesar shalt thou go.’ Festus says it, and the road is set.”
“But Festus says why he held the hearing,” said Amara. “Twenty-five twenty-six. ‘I have no certain thing to write.’”
“And twenty-six thirty-one,” said Tomás. “‘Nothing worthy of death or of bonds.’ Then thirty-two, ‘might have been set at liberty.’ That’s something to write.”
“Does Luke say Festus wrote it?” said Walt.
“No.”
“Green, then,” said Tomás. “That thirty-one and thirty-two answer twenty-five twenty-six.”
“And twenty-six twenty-four,” said Denny. “Festus shouting. He wanted a charge and got a sermon. He didn’t get his answer.”
“What does Festus say set him off?” said Walt.
“‘Much learning,’” said Amara. “That’s all the text gives.”
“Keep that one between the green and the fourth card,” said Walt. “Verse two.”
Amara went clipped. “They board a ship of Adramyttium, bound for the coast of Asia. Aristarchus, a Macedonian of Thessalonica, is with them. Next day, Sidon. Julius treats Paul kindly and lets him go to his friends. They sail under Cyprus because of the winds, cross the sea off Cilicia and Pamphylia, and land at Myra. The centurion finds a ship of Alexandria bound for Italy and puts them on it. Slow sailing, many days. They run under Crete, barely get past a cape, and come to a place called Fair Havens.”
“Aristarchus,” said Denny. “Nineteen twenty-nine. The theater.”
“Same name, same country,” said Tomás.
“‘Courteously entreated Paul,’” read Amara, “‘and gave him liberty to go unto his friends.’”
“First thing we hear about Julius,” said Walt. “Keep it. Nine.”
“‘Sailing was now dangerous,’” Tomás read, “‘because the fast was now already past.’”
“Mine says ‘the Fast,’” said Amara. “Capital F.”
“Which fast?” said Denny.
“Luke doesn’t say,” said Walt. “What does a reader reach for?”
“The Day of Atonement,” said Tomás. “Autumn. That’s commentary.”
“Outside,” said Walt, and Tomás laid a pink card.
“Ten,” said Tomás. “‘Sirs, I perceive that this voyage will be with hurt and much damage, not only of the lading and ship, but also of our lives.’”
“‘I perceive,’” said Walt. “How does Paul put it?”
“No ‘thus saith the Lord,’” said Amara.
“A forecast,” said Denny. “Man says the roof’s going to leak because the flashing’s wrong.”
“Luke doesn’t say where the perceiving came from,” said Walt. “Don’t fill it.”
“I’d call it a soft one,” said Tomás. “A soft prophecy. As a working name.”
“Name it if you like,” said Walt. “Luke’s word is ‘perceive.’ The rest is yours.”
“Green,” said Tomás. He wrote SOFT? on his card and turned it round for the others.
“He’d been shipwrecked before,” said Denny. “Second Corinthians eleven twenty-five. Three times, he says.”
“Outside,” said Amara. “Paul’s own letter. It says he’d been through it. It says nothing about knowing weather.”
“Eleven,” said Walt.
Tomás read. “‘Nevertheless the centurion believed the master and the owner of the ship, more than those things which were spoken by Paul.’”
“Julius,” said Denny. “I’ll bet he comes around.”
“That’s Denny’s,” said Walt, and Denny wrote it.
Walt reached for the loaf, cut the heel off for himself, and slid the board down the table. “Thirteen.”
Amara went fast and flat. “A south wind blows softly. They think they’ve got what they wanted, so they loose the ship and sail close along Crete. Not long after, a violent wind comes against it. The ship is caught and can’t face the wind. They let her drive.”
“‘Called Euroclydon,’” said Tomás. “That’s how mine puts the wind.”
“Mine says ‘called the northeaster,’” said Amara.
“Old copies split on that one,” said Walt.
Amara had her phone up. “The other reading is Euraquilo. The front half is the east wind in both. The back half is a wave in one and a north wind in the other.”
“Outside,” said Tomás. “A word-builder’s guess.”
“‘Called,’” said Amara, and looked at Denny. “Everything’s about the name this month.”
“Don’t start,” said Denny.
“Does Luke explain the name?” said Walt.
“No.”
“Does he say his readers already knew it?”
“No.”
“Everybody on a boat knew that one,” said Denny.
“That’s Denny’s,” said Walt.
“‘Could not bear up into the wind,’” read Tomás.
“Mine says ‘could not face the wind,’” said Amara. “My app says the Greek is ‘to look the wind in the eye.’”
“Green,” said Walt. “Somebody check it.”
“Seventeen through twenty,” said Amara. “They brace the ship with ropes, strike sail, throw cargo over. Verse nineteen, the third day. ‘We cast out with our own hands the tackling of the ship.’”
“Who’s ‘we’?” said Walt.
“Luke,” said Denny. “Luke’s in the boat for real. He’s throwing gear overboard.”
“Twenty,” said Amara. “‘All hope that we should be saved was then taken away.’”
“‘We,’” said Tomás. “He says the hope was gone for him too.”
“Text,” said Walt. “Twenty-one.”
Tomás read it. “‘After long abstinence Paul stood forth in the midst of them, and said, Sirs, ye should have hearkened unto me.’”
“He says I told you so,” said Denny.
“Twenty-two,” said Amara. “‘No loss of any man’s life among you, but of the ship.’ Compare ten. Ten says lives. Twenty-two says no lives.”
“He changes the forecast,” said Denny.
“What happened between?” said Walt.
“Twenty-three.” Tomás read it. “‘For there stood by me this night the angel of God, whose I am, and whom I serve.’”
“‘Stood by,’” said Walt. “Where have we heard that?”
“Twenty-three eleven. ‘The Lord stood by him.’” Tomás looked up. “Mine says ‘stood by’ in both places.”
“Mine says ‘stood before me’ here,” said Amara.
“The echo is in his English and not in yours,” said Walt. “Keep it loose.”
“Twenty-four,” said Tomás. “‘Fear not, Paul; thou must be brought before Caesar.’”
“‘Must,’” said Amara. “Twenty-three eleven. ‘So must thou bear witness also at Rome.’” She checked her phone. “Same word.”
“The Lord said Rome,” said Denny. “The angel says Caesar.”
“Green,” said Tomás. “That they’re one road.”
“‘And, lo, God hath given thee all them that sail with thee,’” Tomás read on.
“Mine says ‘granted,’” said Amara. She stopped, scrolling. “Granted. It’s the same root as the favor word. Twenty-five eleven. ‘No man may deliver me unto them.’”
“Festus wanted to hand Paul over as a favor,” said Denny. “Paul says no man can. And here God hands him the whole ship.”
“Still green,” said Walt. “Still waiting on the Greek.”
“Is this the soft kind?” said Walt, after a moment.
“No,” said Tomás, tapping his SOFT? card. “That was a forecast.”
“What do you call this one?” said Walt.
“A messenger of God,” said Amara. “And a promise.”
“Twenty-five,” said Walt.
“‘I believe God,’” Tomás read, “‘that it shall be even as it was told me.’”
“Text,” said Amara. “He reports it and says he believes it.”
“Twenty-seven,” said Walt.
Amara went clipped again. “The fourteenth night. About midnight, the sailors sense land. They sound twenty fathoms, then fifteen. Afraid of rocks, they drop four anchors from the stern and wait for day. Then the sailors try to flee, lowering the boat under the pretense of laying anchors from the bow. Paul tells the centurion and the soldiers, ‘Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved.’ The soldiers cut the ropes of the boat and let it fall off.”
“Who does Paul speak to?” said Walt.
“The centurion and the soldiers,” said Tomás.
“Who acts?”
“The soldiers,” said Amara. “Thirty-two.”
“Three places for Julius,” said Walt. “Eleven.”
“Believes the master and owner,” said Tomás.
“Thirty-two,” said Amara. “The soldiers listen to Paul.”
“Forty-three,” said Denny. “‘Willing to save Paul, kept them from their purpose.’”
“Julius,” said Tomás. “He comes around.”
“That’s mine,” said Denny.
“And who’s running the boat?” said Walt.
“Paul,” said Denny. “From thirty-one on.”
“Who decides at forty-three?” said Amara.
“Julius,” said Tomás.
“Luke gives Julius the last word,” said Amara. “Paul’s warning changes what the soldiers do. Julius is still the centurion.”
“Denny’s,” said Walt.
“Amara’s,” said Denny.
“Text,” said Tomás, and laid a yellow card for forty-three. “Thirty-three.”
“Paul urges them all to eat,” Amara read. “Fourteen days without. Thirty-five.”
Tomás found it. “‘He took bread, and gave thanks to God in presence of them all: and when he had broken it, he began to eat.’”
“Luke twenty-two nineteen,” said Amara. “‘He took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it.’”
“And twenty-four thirty,” said Tomás. “Emmaus.”
“That’s a doctrine fight,” said Denny. “I can smell it from here.”
“What does Luke say this bread is?” said Walt.
“Bread,” said Amara.
“Who’s at the table?”
“Two hundred seventy-six.”
“How many of them are disciples?”
“He doesn’t say.”
“The words line up,” said Walt. “What that means for how a church keeps the supper, people have argued over for a long time. Pencil.”
Tomás laid a green card and marked it with a pencil dot.
“Thirty-seven,” said Walt.
“‘Two hundred threescore and sixteen souls,’” Tomás read.
“Mine says two seventy-six,” said Amara. “A footnote says some copies read about seventy-six.”
“Old copies split,” said Walt. “Hold both.”
“Thirty-eight,” said Walt. “They’ve eaten. Then what?”
“‘They lightened the ship, and cast out the wheat into the sea,’” said Amara.
“Why?”
“Luke doesn’t say.”
“Thirty-nine.”
“Daylight,” said Amara. “They don’t know the land. They see a bay with a beach. ‘Into the which they were minded, if it were possible, to thrust in the ship.’”
“Lightened, then thrust in,” said Walt.
“You lighten a load to get through a tight spot,” said Denny.
“Twenty-nine had four anchors,” said Tomás. “Forty. ‘Taken up the anchors.’”
“Mine says ‘cutting the anchors loose,’” said Amara.
“Translators split on what the Greek is doing with them,” said Walt.
“Cut or hauled, they quit holding with them,” said Denny.
“Green,” said Tomás. “That lightening the ship and dropping the anchors point at one plan. The beach.”
“Keep it on green,” said Walt. “Luke gives the plan at thirty-nine. The rest is sequence.”
“‘Loosed the rudder bands,’” read Tomás.
“Rudder bands,” said Denny.
“Mine says ‘untied the ropes that held the steering oars,’” said Amara.
“Plural,” said Walt. “Luke says rudders.”
“Two of them,” said Denny.
Amara scrolled. “Commentators say big ships steered with a pair of oars off the stern, and they could be lashed up out of the water.”
“Outside,” said Tomás. “Why they were lashed is the commentators’. Luke tells us they were loosed.”
“Trade words,” said Denny. “You write ‘pull the shores’ on a punch list, the crew knows what it means. Nobody writes the glossary into the list.”
“Did Luke’s first readers need the glossary?” said Walt.
“Luke doesn’t say,” said Amara.
“Denny’s,” said Walt.
“‘And falling into a place where two seas met,’” Tomás read, “‘they ran the ship aground.’”
“Mine says ‘reef,’” said Amara. “The footnote says ‘two seas.’”
“Another version I looked at says ‘sandbar,’” said Tomás.
“Submerged sandbar,” said Denny.
“Three words for one Greek phrase,” said Walt.
“Luke says ‘a place of two seas,’” said Amara. “The translators are choosing.”
“Which card?” said Walt.
“Yellow for what Luke says,” said Tomás. “Green for any of the three.”
“I’m putting my money on sandbar,” said Denny.
“Card,” said Walt, and Denny wrote it.
Amara read the rest of the verse. “The forepart stuck fast and stayed fixed. The hinder part broke up under the violence of the waves.”
“Forty-two,” said Walt.
Tomás read it. “‘And the soldiers’ counsel was to kill the prisoners, lest any of them should swim out, and escape.’”
“Luke gives the reason in the verse,” said Amara.
“What does that tell you about swimming?” said Walt.
“That the soldiers were worried about prisoners who could do it,” said Amara. “Before anybody’s given an order.”
“Forty-three,” said Walt.
“‘That they which could swim should cast themselves first into the sea, and get to land,’” read Tomás. “‘And the rest, some on boards, and some on broken pieces of the ship.’”
“How many could swim?” said Walt.
“Luke doesn’t say,” said Amara. “Two groups. No count.”
“Most of them,” said Denny. “Sailors, soldiers.”
“Denny’s,” said Walt.
“Forty-four,” said Tomás. “‘And so it came to pass, that they escaped all safe to land.’”
“All,” said Amara.
“What’s the land called?” said Walt.
Amara went back through the verses. “‘A certain island,’ in twenty-six. In thirty-nine, ‘they knew not the land.’ Luke doesn’t name it in this chapter.”
“Honest break?” said Denny.
“Forty-four ends with everybody on the shore,” said Amara. “Nobody’s gone anywhere. Not honest.”
“Still three,” said Tomás.
“Don’t look ahead,” said Walt.
Walt took the baked apples out of the oven and set the pan on the trivet. The sleet had gone over to snow against the window, big wet flakes that slid down the glass without sticking. Denny cut himself a second slice of bread, buttered it standing, and ate it with his coat half on. Tomás squared his cards into the bag and pressed the seal shut. Amara lifted her thumb out of the margin.
“Bring a pencil,” said Walt.
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