Aaron finally got a ruling on his Nativity petition and found the machine had transported him to Bethlehem. He emerged in a hovel in the forest, God only knew where, and walked to the nearest town.
“Who goes there,” a black-bearded man asked that evening when he walked by the market. “Halt and make yourself known.”
“It is I, Aaron Aardvark of California.”
“I’ve never seen hair that color, nor a face so white. Not even among the most northern of Romans. And your robe wears too closely to your legs.”
“I come in peace, kind man. Please forgive my odd appearance.”
The man reached for his knife, but paused. He squinted his eyes, looked at Aaron shivering in just dungarees and flannel. “Where is this California you speak of? Is it somewhere east of Persia?”
After a fashion, Aaron supposed. “Yes, it is quite east. I come to witness a very special birth. I seek Joseph and Mary of Galilee.”
The man grunted. “Never a more pitiful pair of nomads did I see enter the village. Off you go then, in that direction.” He pointed and went back to his hides and pelts.
Aaron turned down the alleyway the man indicated. Before too long, the small houses of the village came further apart, and then he came upon the stable. A star shone brightly above the structure and light came from within. Aaron entered the stable and just as he turned to witness the Savior’s birth, he saw a three-ringed circus with ponies, acrobats, clowns, and a strong man.
“Damn that time machine,” Aaron thought. “I knew I should’ve downloaded the latest upgrade when it prompted me.”
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