* * *
“It is time, Cohen. Yom Kippur is upon us.”
I said nothing as I set about my task—as if I were a butcher in the stockyards.
I tried not to think about my actions. With almost sickening disbelief—I dressed the monster in ceremonial garb. The Rabbi, meanwhile, whispered a silent prayer into the creature’s ear. When we finished our appointed duties, the Rabbi closed his eyes. He then poured a ladle full of water over the creature—which, upon contact with its slimy skin, turned to steam. The Golem glowed white hot, and then its chest rose as it filled with breath.
Slowly, it raised a heavy arm. Then it made a clumsy attempt to sit up. On instinct, I reach out to support its back. The thing was cool to the touch, and I pulled my hand back. It turned to face the Rabbi.
In a hollow voice it said, “Father?”
The Rabbi nodded.
He looked down at the creature, and then said, “You exist solely to protect the community, and everyone in it, from harm.”
Thus, the Golem understood its purpose.
Life in the City Page 7
