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I had two ideas for stories about the wise men. Since I couldn't decide which one I liked better I wrote two stories.
One Night at Eddy's
by Frank Cox
Nov 5 2024
Yeah, so we're sittin' there, the lot of us, warming our hands on cups of bad coffee, when in come these three guys. Not the usual type, mind you. These fellas looked out of place, even in a joint like Eddy's. They had fancy robes on, looked expensive. I nudge Jerry, who's got his feet up on a stool, and nod toward them.
"You see that?" I say under my breath.
Jerry raises an eyebrow, takes a sip from his mug, and grunts. "Yeah. You'd think they'd be freezin' their tails off out there dressed like that."
The three of 'em come up to the bar. One of 'em, a tall guy with a beard that looks like it would glow in the dark, leans in toward Eddy. Eddy doesn't even flinch, still looking half-dead like always.
"Help you gents?" he mutters.
The guy clears his throat. "We're looking for Bethlehem," he says. "Got word there's something special happening there."
I glance at Jerry, who shrugs like he doesn't care. But I'm curious. It's not every day you see three guys wanderin' around lookin' for directions in the middle of the night, dressed like they belong in some fancy painting.
Eddy points toward me. "That guy knows the way," he says. Thanks a lot, Eddy.
I stand up, pushing my chair back, and walk over. "Bethlehem, huh?" I ask. "What's goin' on there?"
The tallest one, the guy with the beard, gives me a look like he's deciding if I'm trustworthy. "A child is born," he says. "A king, they say. We've been following a star."
Well, that explains the fancy robes. "A king, huh?" I scratch my head. "Never heard of Bethlehem being a spot for kings. You sure about that? There's been a lot of folks headin' that way lately. Heard it's hard to find a room though--some big census or shindig goin' on."
The guy nods like he expected that. "We've heard that. But we do need to get there. Do you know the way?"
"Yeah, I know the way. Hang on." I grab my coat and motion for them to follow. Jerry and the others stay put, watchin' us go.
We step outside, and sure enough, there's that star they've been talkin' about. It's big and bright, right above where Bethlehem's gotta be. "There's your sign," I say, pointing. "Just follow that star and keep straight. You'll hit Bethlehem in a couple of hours, maybe less."
They thank me, give a polite nod, and head off. I watch them walk away, robes swaying in the wind. They're real serious about this king business.
As I'm about to head back inside, I hear something--like a soft drumbeat. I turn, and there's this kid, couldn't be more than ten, walkin' by. He's got a little drum strapped to him and he's beatin' it as he walks, like he's part of a parade only he knows about.
He gives me a wave and keeps walkin'. I stand there for a second, watchin' him head in the same direction as the wise men.
"Strange night," I mutter to myself, before going back inside to the warmth.
*******
Three Wise Men in the Big City
By Frank Cox
Nov 5 2024
On a clear, starry night long ago, three wise men, Melchior, Balthazar, and Caspar, were on a long journey to Bethlehem. They followed a particularly shiny star that seemed to have its GPS coordinates set to "Divine Baby." The wise men were excited, but let's be honest, camels are not exactly the fastest ride. After days of travel through sand and desert, they were getting cranky, hungry, and more than a little saddle-sore.
So when they saw the gleaming lights of a bustling city ahead, they decided it was time for a pit stop.
"We're ahead of schedule," Balthazar said, checking his sundial watch.
"Let's grab some food and maybe a little rest," added Caspar. "Plus, I hear the falafel here is legendary."
The three wise men rode into the heart of the city, parked their camels (after checking for no parking signs), and headed straight to a market square cafe. They piled their treasures -- gold, frankincense, and myrrh -- on a nearby table.
They were so engrossed in the menu they didn't notice a shady character with an eye patch and an overcoat slinking around the marketplace. This guy, Slick Felix, had a nose for treasure and an appreciation for other people's property. Like a snake, he slipped in, grabbed the gold and the other goodies, and disappeared into the crowd faster than you could say, "Magi heist."
"Hey, where's my gold?" Melchior said, his voice suddenly higher than normal.
"My frankincense!" cried Caspar.
"Seriously? My myrrh? Who steals myrrh?" Balthazar started flapping his arms.
Realizing they'd been robbed, after they calmed down they discussed what they should do. These guys were wise, but tracking down a thief in the middle of a city was not their expertise. They needed help. Real help. The kind that wears trench coats and talks in gravelly voices. They needed... a detective.
Enter H.B. Hayes--a no-nonsense private investigator with a penchant for hard-boiled eggs and harder-boiled mysteries. He was a legend in the city, known for cracking tough cases and even tougher heads. The wise men found him in his smoky office, feet on the desk, sipping from a mug labeled "World's Gruffest Dad."
"Whaddya want?" H.B. grunted, barely looking up from a crossword puzzle. "I'm busy."
"We're the wise men. Our treasures were stolen," Melchior explained. "Gold, frankincense, and myrrh."
"And we didn't get our lunch either," Caspar chimed in.
H.B. raised an eyebrow. "OK, gold I understand. Frankin-whatzit and myrrh? You guys hawking vitamins or something?"
"Not exactly," Balthazar said.
"It's complicated," Caspar added. "We need them back. We're on our way to Bethlehem to deliver these gifts to someone... important."
H.B. grumbled, but his curiosity was piqued. "Bethlehem, huh? That's way out in the sticks. What's going on over there?"
Balthazar shook his head. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you."
H.B. shrugged. "Try me."
"Look," Melchior said. "There's this prophecy, right? About a king being born -- a special one. We've been following a star."
"Uh huh. A star." H.B. squinted. "So you're tellin' me you're three wise guys, you're on some celestial scavenger hunt and your gift basket got jacked."
"Wise men and yeah, that's pretty much it," Balthazar said.
H.B. shook his head. "That doesn't seem very wise to me." He sighed. "Alright, whatever. It's been a slow month. I'll take the case."
Within hours, H.B. Hayes was shaking down the usual suspects: street vendors, pickpockets, even a smarmy conman selling knockoff scrolls. It didn't take long before the trail led him to Slick Felix, holed up in a grubby room in a disreputable inn, polishing the gold and trying to figure out what on earth myrrh was used for.
H.B. kicked down the door, grabbed Slick by the collar, and in his signature no-nonsense style, got the treasures back without so much as a scuffle. Slick Felix, realizing he was outmatched, was more than happy to hand them over.
The next morning, the three wise men were reunited with their precious gifts in the office of H.B. Hayes, their unlikely savior.
"Thank you," Melchior said, handing him a pouch of coins for his trouble. "We owe you."
"No sweat," H.B. said, pocketing the money. "But I gotta ask you again... what's so special about Bethlehem anyway? Why are you three lugging all this stuff across deserts and cities?"
The wise men looked at each other. Finally, Caspar spoke up. "There's a child. A king, actually. We're going to honour him. He's... well, he's going to change the world."
H.B. blinked. "A baby? A king baby?" He scratched his head. "You're going through all this trouble for some kid?"
The wise men shared a knowing smile.
"It's not just any kid," Melichor finally said.
H.B. shook his head. "Well, alright. If you say so. You guys do you. But take my advice and keep an eye on your treasures. This city's got a lot of Slick Felixes."
With that, the three wise men loaded the treasures back into their packs and left the office. H.B. Hayes sighed, shook his head and tipped back in his chair.
"Bethlehem,", he snorted. "Takes all kinds." He picked up the crossword puzzle.
As for the three wise men, they mounted their camels and continued on their way to Bethlehem, ready to meet the king of kings and fulfil their destiny. Thanks, of course, to the toughest detective in the city.
One Night at Eddy's
by Frank Cox
Nov 5 2024
Yeah, so we're sittin' there, the lot of us, warming our hands on cups of bad coffee, when in come these three guys. Not the usual type, mind you. These fellas looked out of place, even in a joint like Eddy's. They had fancy robes on, looked expensive. I nudge Jerry, who's got his feet up on a stool, and nod toward them.
"You see that?" I say under my breath.
Jerry raises an eyebrow, takes a sip from his mug, and grunts. "Yeah. You'd think they'd be freezin' their tails off out there dressed like that."
The three of 'em come up to the bar. One of 'em, a tall guy with a beard that looks like it would glow in the dark, leans in toward Eddy. Eddy doesn't even flinch, still looking half-dead like always.
"Help you gents?" he mutters.
The guy clears his throat. "We're looking for Bethlehem," he says. "Got word there's something special happening there."
I glance at Jerry, who shrugs like he doesn't care. But I'm curious. It's not every day you see three guys wanderin' around lookin' for directions in the middle of the night, dressed like they belong in some fancy painting.
Eddy points toward me. "That guy knows the way," he says. Thanks a lot, Eddy.
I stand up, pushing my chair back, and walk over. "Bethlehem, huh?" I ask. "What's goin' on there?"
The tallest one, the guy with the beard, gives me a look like he's deciding if I'm trustworthy. "A child is born," he says. "A king, they say. We've been following a star."
Well, that explains the fancy robes. "A king, huh?" I scratch my head. "Never heard of Bethlehem being a spot for kings. You sure about that? There's been a lot of folks headin' that way lately. Heard it's hard to find a room though--some big census or shindig goin' on."
The guy nods like he expected that. "We've heard that. But we do need to get there. Do you know the way?"
"Yeah, I know the way. Hang on." I grab my coat and motion for them to follow. Jerry and the others stay put, watchin' us go.
We step outside, and sure enough, there's that star they've been talkin' about. It's big and bright, right above where Bethlehem's gotta be. "There's your sign," I say, pointing. "Just follow that star and keep straight. You'll hit Bethlehem in a couple of hours, maybe less."
They thank me, give a polite nod, and head off. I watch them walk away, robes swaying in the wind. They're real serious about this king business.
As I'm about to head back inside, I hear something--like a soft drumbeat. I turn, and there's this kid, couldn't be more than ten, walkin' by. He's got a little drum strapped to him and he's beatin' it as he walks, like he's part of a parade only he knows about.
He gives me a wave and keeps walkin'. I stand there for a second, watchin' him head in the same direction as the wise men.
"Strange night," I mutter to myself, before going back inside to the warmth.
*******
Three Wise Men in the Big City
By Frank Cox
Nov 5 2024
On a clear, starry night long ago, three wise men, Melchior, Balthazar, and Caspar, were on a long journey to Bethlehem. They followed a particularly shiny star that seemed to have its GPS coordinates set to "Divine Baby." The wise men were excited, but let's be honest, camels are not exactly the fastest ride. After days of travel through sand and desert, they were getting cranky, hungry, and more than a little saddle-sore.
So when they saw the gleaming lights of a bustling city ahead, they decided it was time for a pit stop.
"We're ahead of schedule," Balthazar said, checking his sundial watch.
"Let's grab some food and maybe a little rest," added Caspar. "Plus, I hear the falafel here is legendary."
The three wise men rode into the heart of the city, parked their camels (after checking for no parking signs), and headed straight to a market square cafe. They piled their treasures -- gold, frankincense, and myrrh -- on a nearby table.
They were so engrossed in the menu they didn't notice a shady character with an eye patch and an overcoat slinking around the marketplace. This guy, Slick Felix, had a nose for treasure and an appreciation for other people's property. Like a snake, he slipped in, grabbed the gold and the other goodies, and disappeared into the crowd faster than you could say, "Magi heist."
"Hey, where's my gold?" Melchior said, his voice suddenly higher than normal.
"My frankincense!" cried Caspar.
"Seriously? My myrrh? Who steals myrrh?" Balthazar started flapping his arms.
Realizing they'd been robbed, after they calmed down they discussed what they should do. These guys were wise, but tracking down a thief in the middle of a city was not their expertise. They needed help. Real help. The kind that wears trench coats and talks in gravelly voices. They needed... a detective.
Enter H.B. Hayes--a no-nonsense private investigator with a penchant for hard-boiled eggs and harder-boiled mysteries. He was a legend in the city, known for cracking tough cases and even tougher heads. The wise men found him in his smoky office, feet on the desk, sipping from a mug labeled "World's Gruffest Dad."
"Whaddya want?" H.B. grunted, barely looking up from a crossword puzzle. "I'm busy."
"We're the wise men. Our treasures were stolen," Melchior explained. "Gold, frankincense, and myrrh."
"And we didn't get our lunch either," Caspar chimed in.
H.B. raised an eyebrow. "OK, gold I understand. Frankin-whatzit and myrrh? You guys hawking vitamins or something?"
"Not exactly," Balthazar said.
"It's complicated," Caspar added. "We need them back. We're on our way to Bethlehem to deliver these gifts to someone... important."
H.B. grumbled, but his curiosity was piqued. "Bethlehem, huh? That's way out in the sticks. What's going on over there?"
Balthazar shook his head. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you."
H.B. shrugged. "Try me."
"Look," Melchior said. "There's this prophecy, right? About a king being born -- a special one. We've been following a star."
"Uh huh. A star." H.B. squinted. "So you're tellin' me you're three wise guys, you're on some celestial scavenger hunt and your gift basket got jacked."
"Wise men and yeah, that's pretty much it," Balthazar said.
H.B. shook his head. "That doesn't seem very wise to me." He sighed. "Alright, whatever. It's been a slow month. I'll take the case."
Within hours, H.B. Hayes was shaking down the usual suspects: street vendors, pickpockets, even a smarmy conman selling knockoff scrolls. It didn't take long before the trail led him to Slick Felix, holed up in a grubby room in a disreputable inn, polishing the gold and trying to figure out what on earth myrrh was used for.
H.B. kicked down the door, grabbed Slick by the collar, and in his signature no-nonsense style, got the treasures back without so much as a scuffle. Slick Felix, realizing he was outmatched, was more than happy to hand them over.
The next morning, the three wise men were reunited with their precious gifts in the office of H.B. Hayes, their unlikely savior.
"Thank you," Melchior said, handing him a pouch of coins for his trouble. "We owe you."
"No sweat," H.B. said, pocketing the money. "But I gotta ask you again... what's so special about Bethlehem anyway? Why are you three lugging all this stuff across deserts and cities?"
The wise men looked at each other. Finally, Caspar spoke up. "There's a child. A king, actually. We're going to honour him. He's... well, he's going to change the world."
H.B. blinked. "A baby? A king baby?" He scratched his head. "You're going through all this trouble for some kid?"
The wise men shared a knowing smile.
"It's not just any kid," Melichor finally said.
H.B. shook his head. "Well, alright. If you say so. You guys do you. But take my advice and keep an eye on your treasures. This city's got a lot of Slick Felixes."
With that, the three wise men loaded the treasures back into their packs and left the office. H.B. Hayes sighed, shook his head and tipped back in his chair.
"Bethlehem,", he snorted. "Takes all kinds." He picked up the crossword puzzle.
As for the three wise men, they mounted their camels and continued on their way to Bethlehem, ready to meet the king of kings and fulfil their destiny. Thanks, of course, to the toughest detective in the city.