He woke up.  Immediately, he knew that something was different, but at first he could not think what it was.  Then he realized: the pain had stopped.  The inescapable, wracking pain, and the thirst.  Slowly he began to remember.  And that’s when he realized he was dead.  If he didn’t feel the pain and thirst any more, then he must be dead.  He opened his eyes.  He was lying on a grassy slope.  He looked at one wrist and he could see the mark of the nail.  But he was wearing clothes.  Looking around a little further, he saw a man sitting on the grass close by.  “What’s going on?” he asked.

The man smiled.  Then he recognized him: it was the crazy guy, the poor fool who thought he was Messiah.  He was wearing clothes, too.  The man said, “Can you get up now?  There is a banquet waiting for us.”

A banquet.  Plenty to eat and drink sounded good.  He got to his feet gingerly, but the legs weren’t broken any more, and he got his balance quickly.  The man led as they walked down the hill to a path.  He realized that he didn’t even know the man’s name.

They walked along the path, slowly at first because for some reason he had to get used to walking again, then at a more normal pace.  The man didn’t talk.  At a banquet there would be rich people, maybe opportunities to pick up some easy money.  He thought back on his life, all the things he had done.  He and his friends had stolen from rich fools, of course, in little sneak attacks.  He remembered the peasants, too.  Some of the memories began to bother him.  Things that had bothered him before, a little, when they happened, like the peasant they robbed who tried to fight back.  It began to seem like a shame, as if his whole life had been a great waste.

He thought about the crucifixion.  His friend, the only one besides him who hadn’t died when the soldiers captured them, was there, along with this stupid peasant.  He and his friend had been cursing God and the soldiers and the people around and the peasant who had been so stupid as to be crucified for nothing.  He remembered that he had started to feel exhausted by the pain, and his friend’s yelling was starting to bother him.  It was so loud and so pointless.  He started to get angry.  At least the peasant fool wasn’t making a lot of noise and making Dismas feel still worse.  He had yelled at his friend to shut up.  And then he had said something to the peasant, too.  It came back to him what he had said.

He looked at the peasant, now walking quietly beside him.  The guy still didn’t understand anything.  Suddenly he couldn’t stand walking beside this quiet guy who apparently thought they were friends.  “Look,” he said.  “You’ve got this all wrong.  I don’t belong here.  I remember now what I said to you at the crucifixion, but you’ve got it all wrong.  I told the other guy to shut up because he was making too much noise.  And when I said that to you, it never occurred to me that you might have a kingdom.  I thought you were nuts, and I just said that like throwing a scrap to a stupid dog.  I don’t even know why I said it.”

“I know,” said the peasant.  “But those were the only kind words I heard all that day.  They made it a little easier to bear.  Come on now.  The banquet is waiting, and I’d like you to meet my father.”