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Business As Usual
by R.P. Infantino

    "Oh my, I didn't see you, sir. I was just making tea for my wife prior to locking up for the night. May I help you?"

    “Yes, thank you good sir. I am in a desperate situation. I need a room. Please, sir. Any room will do. It doesn't matter the size. A closet, if nothing else. Please say you have one for me."

    "But my good man, this is most unusual. The time is so late. I am usually not open for business at this hour. As I've said, I was making tea for my wife who is not feeling well, possibly with a cold. But at this hour, I normally do not do business. You must understand that we, my wife and I, must have some time for ourselves."

    "Yes, I understand, sir. I apologize for the intrusion, I saw the candle burning and assumed—I know I shouldn't have—but I assumed you were open for business. I won't take more of your time, if you could just register us for a small room for a few days."

    "Us? I thought it was for you alone?"

    "Yes. I mean, no. It's for me and—for me and my—my—wife. Just the two of us. She's not feeling well either, same as your wife. It must be, uh, something going around. I must get her from this night air to the comfort of your warm inn. So please, where do I register?"

    "Let me check. My wife is in charge of registration, and I the repairs. But, as I said, she's been under the weather and I have been doing double duty."

    "Yes, I understand. Our wives must both feel unusually uncomfortable. Let's see if we can get them feeling better, shall we, sir?"

    "Let me check the records. Hmm, let's see. I, uh, I don't, uhm, I am sorry sir, as far as I can tell from the records, there are no rooms available. I am so sorry."

    "Please, I have been to every lodging for miles."

    "It is unusually busy for some reason. It seems everyone needs a place to stay."

    "Yes, I understand! I apologize, I didn't mean to sound harsh just then. It's just—I desperately need your help. You are my last resort."

    "I wish I could help you, my good man, but if I have no available rooms, well, what am I to do? I am sorry, sir."

    The visitor lowered his head. Disappointment, grief, sadness, and a myriad of feelings hung on him like a weight, dragging him lower and lower.

    "I am sorry again, sir, but my wife's tea is ready. Have a pleasant evening. Please be safe on these streets at this late hour. I pray your wife’s condition improves. Shalom."

    The inn keeper delivered the hot tea to his sickly wife. His children were awake, bored and restless. As the night drew on, the inn keeper did his best to keep everything together.

    The visitor exited with dejection in his heart. Outside, his woman and pack mule awaited for good news. None came. He needed to find a place for them all—even for a few hours.

    During the night, the inn keeper heard a woman screaming outside. A child crying. Then the sound of animals braying and clopping. And voices. Many voices. He dare not go outside to investigate as it was unsafe at this late hour. He made sure the doors and windows were bolted and continued to care for his family.

    The next morning, the inn keeper checked on his wife who, despite feeling better, decided to stay in bed. He made sure the children were fed, dressed, and ready for temple. He opened the door to his inn and was ready for business.

    "Oh yes," he thought, "let me check the ruckus from last night." As he stepped outside, he noticed many animal prints embedded deep into the muddy road He followed the hoof marks to the animal stable. When he arrived, he was shocked to see the man from the previous night, a woman— presumably his wife he had spoken of—and an infant wrapped in an animal blanket.

    "What on earth is going on here?" the inn keeper said.

    "I’m sorry, sir," the man said. "We were in a desperate situation and needed a place."

    "What on earth is going on here?" the inn keeper repeated in disbelief.

    "We'll pay you for your trouble,” the man said, “I promise."

    "And what about these animal tracks embedded in the ground? How many showed up? A team?"

    "No, sir. Just three. Three men on camels. That is all."

    "And who will repair the road to make it passable? I have customers that need to get in and out of these stables without breaking their necks."

    "I will, sir. Please, don't make a fuss. I'll level the road right now.

    "I'll say you will. Get that shovel over there. And clean up this waste, too. Flies are already swarming."

    "Yes, yes sir. I'll get right to it."

    As the man worked on the roadway, the woman chimed in.

    "We have a new baby, sir. Isn't he beautiful?"

    "Yeah, great. Right now I'm concerned about my customers. I need this space for their animals."

    "Sir, please, take a look at my son."

    The inn keeper approached the woman and looked at the child.

    "Yeah, great kid. I've got five of my own. Now you," he pointed to the man, "you keep shoveling."

    "Sir," the woman said, "my son is a king."

    "I'm sure he is. Mine were kings, too, when they were born. And queens, as well. My little kings and queens. Now I can't control them. You'll have the same problem, I'm sure. You—" he yelled to the man, "Are you almost done over there? My wife will not abide by this—she is much less accommodating than I am."

    "Sir," the woman continued,, "how can I make you understand?' My son is the Prince of Peace."

    "Listen lady, I wouldn't care if your kid, was the Lord and Savior himself. I have a business to run. Now once your husband is done shoveling this mess, you've all got to leave."

    "But sir, he is not my husband. We are not married."

    "You're what? Not married? That's it! On your way. You! Drop that shovel. Take your son and move on."

    "Why sir, this good man is not the father to my son."

    The man dropped the shovel, lowered his head and threw his hands in the air The inn keeper burned his eyes on the man.

    "While it is true, sir, that 1 am not the father, I do intend to adopt the child as my own."

    "And who is the father and where is he?"

    "Well, I, uh, I don’t exactly know the answer to that, sir. I only know what my betrothed has told me—you see, she had a dream—this is very difficult to understand and even I do not understand it all—there was a ghost, well, not exactly—I mean, you see, the father—the father is not of this—"

    "Town?"

    "Not of this Earth."

    "That's it! I've heard enough. Out! All three of you! Do you know what this will do to my business? An unmarried couple, an out-of-wedlock child, and a ghostly father? They'll close me down. You have all got to go now! I have a reputation to uphold. Now take your stuff and leave before the yentas of this gossipy town get wind of this mess. Not to mention my wife—oh my wife!—she'll bury me. Let's go. You, take your wi—I mean, this woman—and your, uh—this child—and your flea-bitten mule and get the sheol out of here. And is that my animal blanket? Give me that! Move on, let's go. Now!"

    The woman wrapped the child in strips of cloth. She cradled the infant as she rode the donkey. The man walked beside them.

    They headed to Egypt.

    As they left, the townspeople began to hustle and bustle with the new day. Children walked to Yeshiva, merchants offered their wares, children laughed, dogs barked, horses were fed and brushed, birds chirped. The day had begun.

    No one but the three men the night before were any wiser to the miracle of the night before:

    A King born in a dingy stable for animals. The town cared not. Oh, they would—in about thirty years.

    But for now, in this sleepy town of Bethlehem, it was business as usual.

Copyright © 2023 by R.P. Infantino