Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Prompt word:

SHED

A sudden memory of childhood in Kerioth caused the quietly-reserved man to tug at his robes, while awkwardly leaning against the man he’d devoted his life to, “It’s not how much they’ll hate me, I can live with that, but are you totally sure this is the only way?”

“Sorry, man, it’s got to be this way,” his friend and teacher spoke with a self-consciousness rarely observed by the other eleven men gathered for a late night meal; with the exception of the two men talking quietly, the others shared a boisterous camaraderie more common to members of the military who, for a night have shed the rigid sense of order, than men of the cloth.

“It just seems so unnecessary,” his eyes betraying a passionate devotion, his voice lowered enough to achieve the illusion of privacy with the man to his right, “I mean you’re here to get things back on track, just the simplest of lessons, to do unto others as you would; why go up against the local establishment when we could just head out on the road, preaching by the village, an epic confrontation seems so wasteful, not to mention, dangerous.”

“Sorry, Jay, you know I don’t have sole editing authority on this story; I hate to do this to you, but other than John, there’s no one in our group who has what it takes to do what I need you to do.”

From one end of the long table, in a volume that pushed aside the other conversations, came, “Yo, Iscariot, don’t go spending all our collection money; hey, Jesus, you know I’m your boy, right?”

A sad resolution pulled at the face of the guest of honor and, in a miracle visible only to his friend, he took a piece of bread, dipped it into the cup of wine, and handed it to Judas, “Like we planned, see you on the other side.”