The Three Wise Men: One Year Later

The three magi stood still that night, staring into the sky.

"I don't see it."

"Neither do I."

"This is ridiculous, guys. What the hell were we thinking?"

Balthazar and Gaspar stared intently at Melcior, who had yet to say a word.

"Oookay," began Melcior, finally. "Maaaaaybe we were a little hasty last year."

"What?!" Balthazar was incredulous. "Oh you cannot be serious, Mel. I mean, you simply CANNOT be serious. Do you have any idea what last year was like for me? Couldn't afford to get the wife anything for our anniversary because I had to follow a friggin' STAR and give all the gold I had to a baby who was lying in a pile of hay in a barn while still covered in his mother's placenta! And now you tell me we might have been hasty?"

"Hold it, Balthazar," stepped in Gaspar. "Now, let's just assume we were right. I mean, that was a pretty crazy star we saw."

Balthazar calmed himself for a second and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I guess it was."

"Right. And, even though he didn't really look like it at the time, that kid is gonna be huge someday. I mean...son-of-God huge. And who do you think he's gonna be taking care of with the Big Guy Upstairs? Huh?"

"Us, that's who!" jumped in Melcior.

Balthazar sighed, and crossed his arms.

"Here's what I know: there was this crazy-ass star last year. One year ago exactly. We followed it, however the hell you follow a star. We brought the finest gifts our money could bring us. We found a kid in a barn that stank of horse poop. We gave the gifts to a kid who had no idea who or what we were. The kid farted, maybe twice. We ditched out. King Herod found out about us and killed a bunch of newborns. The end. I get what my wife was talking about now."

"Okay, it sounds kinda crazy when you say it like that," began Gaspar. "But my question is, and this is primarily for you, Mel, since it was your idea in the first place, what now? Do we go back and give the kid more gifts?"

"I've been thinkin' the same thing, guys, trust me." Melcior cleared his throat. "I think we go back. But we've given our gifts. I mean, they were essentially hoboes and we gave them gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Not too shabby, eh? I think the least they could do is put us up for the night, give us a little dinner, let us spend some time with the savior."

"But we don't know where the hell to go, Mel!" yelled an exasperated Balthazar. "Look up in the sky! You see a star? No! Nothing! Nada! They were only in Bethlehem last year 'cause of that census. Who knows where they are now."

"I hear Nazareth..."

"Nazareth? Oh man, count me out, buddy," said Gaspar. "I mean, Bethlehem's a pain in the ass enough, but Nazareth? Holy cow, I think not."

"Think for a second guys!" Melcior was a bit giddy. "If we do this every year - and we totally can - we could end up being Jesus's cool uncles. The messiah's cool uncles. We would be a shoe-in with God! We might up becoming saints or something."

"That's assuming this kid actually is the messiah and not just a hobo's kid who was born in a pile of hay next to a mare," retorted Balthazar.

"But..the star!"

"Oh yeah, the star! I almost forgot! I spent my life savings because you saw a big 'ol star and it lead you to a barn! I nearly got killed by Herod for a star! The Massacre of the Innocents happened...because you found a goddamn star!"

"Now, hold on a sec, Baltha-"

"NO! I will NOT hold on a sec! This is bullshit! Mary and Joseph never wrote to us thanking us for the gifts, we've gotten no notice of thanks or goodwill from God, whose kid this supposedly is, and to top it all off, I'm standing around with you two numbskulls waiting to do it AGAIN!"

Balthazar stomped off in a huff to get some sleep. Melcior ran after him, but returned after he realized that there would be no consoling nor convincing Balthazar. He sat on a sand dune with Gaspar, and the two stared up into the night sky.

"You think he's really the messiah?" asked Melcior, nervously.

"Not sure," responded Gaspar, sighing to himself. "Doesn't really matter though, does it? At the very least, we helped out a poor kid and his family. How old was that mother? 13? 12? And the husband couldn't have been much older. They probably ate for three months on what we gave them. And maybe that kid will grow up to be the messiah, and we helped him. And maybe he'll just grow up to be a responsible adult. And maybe someday his parents'll tell him what three noble wise men did for them the day he was born. And maybe he'll do the same for some other poor couple with a newborn. And then it'll start all over again..."

"Yeah," murmurred Melcior. "I'm kinda hoping for the messiah thing though. That'd be awesome."