I don't know what's happening, but I've got to go. I've got to make something happen. I'm sick of being confused and feeling like an outsider. I've been with him all this time, and I still don't understand what he says, what he does -- washing our feet, him of all people.

I can still feel those hands of his on my feet. I can still hear him say, "He who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me." Heel? Feet? What did he mean by that? I don't understand what he does and what he says. Then he said, "Truly, truly, one of you will betray me." Does he mean me? What does he know?

"Truly, truly!" How many times have I heard that! That's what they're all buzzing about, but I'm not like them. I caught what he said before that: "Truly, truly, I say to you, he who re-ceives any one whom I send receives me."

I heard that -- but what did he mean about "sending" and "betraying"? I couldn't get it all; the ones closest to him, that inner circle, they could hear. He might have been whispering just to them, for all I can tell.

Does he mean me? Is he sending me? Is this odd man out or something else?

Then he dipped that piece of bread into the sauce, gave it to me, and said, "What you are going to do, do quickly." You can see how hard it is to understand him. Was he honoring me or was something else going on? Was he singling me out? And for what? "What you do, do quickly!"

Do what? I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know some-thing has to be done. I know I couldn't have stayed there another minute.

He'll never treat me that way again. No more meals, no more shame. "The poor you always have with you." Mary and her ointment and hair. No more singling out, no more shame, no more not understanding. I've had enough. No more cold, lone-liness; no more dark. No more not understanding.

I understand this much. I feel more alive right now than I've ever felt. I feel something I've never felt before. I feel a surge of energy. I may not understand him, but I know what I feel.

Every sense is sharp:

Did they hear them? Did they guess? No, those clods were too busy whispering to each other, "Lord, who is it?" Is what? I despise them. They're so stupid that if they even noticed, they probably thought it was our money, not the money the others gave me. And they're the ones I'm going to. Some-thing's got to be done. I understand that much.

"Quickly," he said. "Well, all right then, I'll give him 'quickly.'"