“Creator…you are here.” The golem's smile was wide enough to reach the edges of her clay face.
“As I had promised I would be, child,” Goldsmith crooned as he approached the counter. “Fraulein Jenkins, a confession must be made that I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“For what?” I asked in mild surprise.
“For many things,” the rabbi explained, putting the package on the counter. “For taking in my charge after her unworthy mistress’ murder. For being more interested in the truth of the matter of that unfortunate affair than the natural solution of finding me guilty. For having your very brave cat stand guard over my gift to my dear one until my release early this morning. Good reasons are these all. I shall leave it to you to decide which is the most important to you.”
“Well, to be fair, I didn’t have anything to do with Fraidy doing what he did,” I said, holding up my hands. "But, yeah, he’s kind of a neat guy when he wants to be," I said with true affection.
Rabbi Goldsmith waved his hand toward me. “He is happy to serve a true and noble leader like yourself,” I blushed at his words for some reason.
Then, turning his attention to the golem, he said, “Now, dear heart, would you do the honor of opening my gift to you?”
The golem didn’t need another invitation. Her strong hands tore through the paper like a Mainland weedeater would through a patch of tall grass. I swore that I could see tears in her eyes as she got a look at the book beneath the wrapper.
“You remembered,” she said in awe as she held up the impressive volume.
“As if forgetting were possible,” Goldsmith said with a smile of his own. “I knew that you always loved that cookbook above all and no doubt, had I, that the copy you had at Nebula Dreddock’s is long since confiscated.” The Rabbi smiled with real warmth at the look of gratitude on the golem’s face.
I looked over the golem’s shoulder to see the title: Milton Powderdry’s Art of Baking. The golem hugged it to her breast and sighed.
“If only I had a place to do such baking,” she said from a daydream of said 'place.'
“You know,” Millie said as she came in from the back. “Not to eavesdrop or anything…”
“Though, most assuredly, that is what you were doing,” the rabbi interjected with a chuckle.
“But, do you remember, Hattie, Mrs. Hubbell’s old bakery, which has just been standing there since she died last spring?” Millie went on.
I nodded. “Yeah, and none of the heirs wanted anything to do with it. They just took off for the Mainland and never looked back. I seem to remember them charging a ridiculous amount for selling the building outright.”
That irked me on a personal level. The only reason that those ungrateful kids were even able to go to the Mainland in the first place was that Mrs. Hubbell had worked her fingers to the bone and didn’t believe in unnecessary expenditures. But then maybe I was biased. I had been willing to carry on in my grandmother’s footsteps, and there wasn’t a thing about the Mainland that would ever make me want to abandon this shop or the Coven Isles.
“Weeeeeeelll,” Millie said, her tongue rolling out the word. “I’m pretty sure that it wouldn’t be too hard to get a small business loan to cover the cost of buying the building and rebuilding the bakery itself as long as whoever took it over had a good co-signer…like, say, a particular herbal shopkeeper who just happens to be my boss.”
I frowned a little at Millie volunteering me for the role, but I was giving it serious thought. What did the golem really have to her name? I, Millie and, by proxy, David had been the only ones who had shown her any kindness since Nebula’s death, but we all knew such charity couldn’t go on forever. Further, the golem had mentioned wanting to go back to cooking anyway, and this would be a good way to make sure she could make a decent living doing it.
Knowing the final decision wasn’t mine, I asked the golem, “What do you think?”
“I cannot do that,” the golem said, her tone as flat as it was final.
Millie and I glanced at each other in confusion.
“But, honey,” Millie said. “Doing it this way would mean—“
“I am sorry, Millie,” the golem said, holding up one hand while the other clutched her cookbook. “I misspoke. What I meant to say was I cannot do that yet.”
“Far from the only thing is the book that must be given to my child this day,” the rabbi said. “Today, she claims a name for herself.”
“Because having an actual name for yourself is a sign that you are truly free,” I deduced, nodding my head.
“Correct, Fraulein,” Goldsmith confirmed with a nod of his own.
“It is something I have given much thought towards for the last several days,” the golem said, wrapping her free arm back around her book. “But I have yet to come up with a name that would…”
Her voice trailed off as a revelation suddenly seemed to dawn in her eyes. Setting the book carefully on the counter, she looked at me and asked, “Hattie, would it be possible that I could speak to you in private about this?”
I frowned a little. “I don’t know what I can contribute to this but…sure.”
The golem looked relieved as she gestured towards the back.
“Dear one, what are you—“ the rabbi started to ask as he came around the edge of the counter.
“Ummp!” Millie said, getting in his way. “She did say this was going to be private, so let’s give that to her, alright?”
“But as her father, do I not have a right to—“
The sudden cutoff of his words made me turn around. His face had the unmistakable look of an Oblivascatur charm in action. Eclipse was up on the shelf, using his stare to deliver it to the rabbi. I smiled at my memory-shredding kitty cat and went to the back with the golem.
From the front, we heard the rabbi say, “What? What happened?”
“Oh, Hattie and the golem just went to the back to check something,” Millie lied smoothly. “Would you like some green tea while we wait?”
“I very much would, fraulein,” Goldsmith said, the confusion still not completely out of his voice. “Danke.”
“Bitte,” Millie said without missing a beat.
I gave the golem a sheepish look. “I’m sorry about that. Believe me; it wasn’t—“
“It gave us the opportunity we need to have that private talk, Hattie,” the golem said. “As it was Eclipse who performed the Obliviscatur charm, no apologies are necessary.”
“So,” I began, glancing at our reflections in the mirror as I leaned against the nearest wall. “What did you need from me?”
“Something I did not think that you wished for the others to hear publicly,” the golem explained. “I would like to know your True Name.”
I felt my hackles rise at the subject. By now, I would have hoped that the golem would understand that, as far as I was concerned, Hattie WAS my True Name.
Seeing my anger, the golem held up her hands and said, “Please…let me explain. I have spent the last several days in your shop contemplating the question of my own name. Again and again, I come up with names that do not seem to fit. So…I ask this question because I want my name to reflect the one person who was directly responsible for helping me to become free.”
I felt ashamed at the simple, heartfelt statement she made at the end. As I looked at the floor, I said, “I don’t think I deserve that sort of respect, especially with what I said to you the first day.”
“I did not understand you,” the golem countered, pointing at me.
Then turning the finger back on herself, she added, “You did not understand me. But we talked and worked together, which made the understanding happen. So, there are no recriminations and no blame for what came before.”
Suddenly I just wanted to cry. It wasn’t about the golem. It was about me and how I still, after all these years, blamed myself for not saving my parents. I don’t think I realized how much of the guilt I had been carrying around.
The
golem seemed to understand. She came close to me and put a pair of sisterly hands on my arms to steady me. I still fought the tears, mostly because I was afraid that they wouldn’t stop once they got started.
I felt a rubbing against my leg. I half expected it to be Onyx, there to do his usual psychotherapy to help me right my ship. I was surprised to see Fraidy, who pressed against me with a soft purr. The fact that he was looking at the golem like she would crush him like a bug made me chuckle a little.
I looked into the golem’s eyes, and I saw infinite patience and great compassion looking back at me. I nodded, took a deep breath and said, “Seraphim Joyvive.”
The golem looked at me in puzzlement.
“My True Name,” I explained. “Or the name I was born with, whichever way you want to talk about it. See, when I was born, the Warlock cold war was at its height. Nearly one hundred years after the Warlock Wars, the Isles were locked in another standoff. Sure, there were no weapons fired, but, still we needed an army. The drafts began. Only a few at first, but when the cold-war tensions began climbing, well a full draft of able-bodied men came next. But, luckily would-be draftee’s with children under two years old could remain home. So along I come and my dad is spared from going into military training.” I blew my nose and swallowed. “My parents named me Seraphim.”
“What does Seraphim mean?” The clay woman asked.
“Seraphim belongs to the highest order of angels. Mom and Dad saw me as their guardian angel, because my birth kept my father out of military school.”
“I see,” said the golem. “If you are not too upset, I’d like you to continue.”
I closed my eyes and this time there was no stopping the tears from falling. “Then, came the fire and…”
I felt the burn of salty water roll down my cheeks as I opened my eyes again. “After that, I didn’t want to be anybody’s guardian angel. I mean, there was my chance to live up to the name and I just…I just couldn’t get the fire to go out.”
I felt my knees go out from under me. The golem caught me and stroked my head as I cried into her shoulder. After the worst had passed, the golem said, “So, as soon as you were old enough, you changed your name so that you could be someone other than the person you expected yourself to be.”
“And, what my parents expected me to be,” I said, wiping the tears from my face.
“No,” the golem said firmly. “The only thing your parents expected from you was to be their child. I would think that they would both be proud of the young woman you have become.”
I felt a smile tug at the corners. “But…how does this help you?”
After patting my arms with affection, the golem dropped her hands and said, “In spite of your name change, you still acted as a guardian angel to me. You gave me a place in the world after my mistress’ death. You gave me work. Now, if Millie is correct, you are on the verge of giving me my own business. My name should reflect my gratitude and should be an homage to you, dear Hattie.”
“So…what name is that?” I asked with genuine curiosity.
A small smile came to the golem’s face. “Gabrielle.”
The moment she spoke the name, her flesh seemed to transmogrify. In place of the clay, I saw real -- albeit dirty -- human skin appear in its place. It still seemed to have a dark tan that reflected the original clay composition, but there was definitely a human cast to it. A pinkish light erupted from the golem's skin and filled the tiny room, in a near angelic blaze. As the glow lost its intensity, I saw the smile widen on Gabrielle’s face as she looked at her hands and then the mirror to confirm her transformation. She was a woman. And, a beautiful and kind looking one at that. I felt choked. The angel Gabriel(le). It was so fitting.
She suddenly gave me another hug with tears of her own touching my shoulder. “Thank you, Hattie. That was all I needed.”
I awkwardly gave the hug back, still uncertain how what I had told her had made such a big difference. But it obviously had, so I just went with it.
As she broke off the second hug, I asked, “What about the last name?”
“Oh, that was never in dispute,” Gabrielle said with a chuckle that seemed more animated than what she would have given before the transformation. “Goldsmith.”
I hummed and tilted my head to the side. Made sense to me. The gesture provoked honest-to-goodness laughter from Gabrielle, which sounded every bit as musical as her new name.
“Time to share the good news, don’t you think?” I asked with a smile of my own.
“Absolutely,” Gabrielle said.
So we went back to the front to do just that.
A good part of the rest of the day was spent gathering the paperwork for the loan and arranging the sale of the bakery. We had to do this in between regular shop business, including the walk-in customers and deliveries. Gabrielle (or “Gabby,” as Millie insisted on calling her) was adamant about doing her usual work around the shop one last time. I had to admit that it helped make everything else run smoothly while we took care of the business of setting Gabrielle up.
Rabbi Goldsmith turned out to have a keen eye for legal paperwork. He was not only able to take care of the fine print in both the sale of the bakery and the loan but begin the process of getting new identity papers for Gabrielle. Per Talisman policy, her post-golem status had to be acknowledged for the record. But, Glessie, unlike some of the other isles, was progressive enough to make sure that all such people like Gabrielle were able to enjoy basic rights that we pure-born humans took for granted. The Rabbi had to leave briefly, to recover some needed documentation on Golem rights back at his cabin in the Sugar Dunes. We were making good headway on all matters Gabrielle.
It was near closing time when the rabbi returned with the needed documents to get everything started. He looked distracted as he came to the counter to look everything in order. Still, we got his nod of approval at our hard work. While I locked the front door, I asked, “You are welcome to stay here tonight, Rabbi, if you don't want to make the trek back to the cottage?” The dunes were at least two miles from the Angel.
“You are very kind, dear,” he assured me with a smile as he looked up and neatly arranged the papers in an orderly stack. “But, the cottage -- as dilapidated as it is -- is astoundingly charming, and the bed is very comfortable.”
I cringed a little bit. “That sounds less idyllic and more flophouse to me.”
Goldsmith gave a deep, rich laugh at my statement. “Oh, no, no, no…quite excellent it is. Having slept in genuine flophouses, the accommodations are much more comfortable; I assure you.”
“You know, Rabbi, in all my years on Glessie, I’ve still never seen this mystery cabin. I hear it’s hidden in the witch gorse pretty well?” I questioned him.
“Yes, that’s correct. I hear that only a select few have availed the cabin of its earthy delights. And, it’s guarded well by the Fae.” he added solemnly.
“Don’t you mean looted?” I quipped. I’d heard the stories of the Faeries breaking and entering and taking, well, pretty much whatever was there. I was surprised the owners — whoever they were — could actually rent the place. It didn’t exactly sound charming.
Gabrielle and Millie were coming out the back with fresh herbs to restock the shelves at this point.
“What about you, Gabrielle?” I asked while I walked back to the counter. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
“Oh, Hattie, call her Gabbie, would you?” Millie chided me. “Rolls off the tongue easier, don’t you think?”
Gabrielle smiled at Millie. “It is no matter, Millie. I daresay that Hattie has very good reasons for using my full name.”
Then, turning to me, she said, “I will be spending one last night with Millie, I think.”
“Probably more than one, girlfriend,” Millie said. “Sure, the bakery’s got some living quarters in the back, but who knows how long the paperwork is going to be? And do NOT get me started on what it costs to sleep at any of the inns. Damn tourists make that
way too expensive…”
To head off one of Millie’s rants about the economic unfairness of Glessie, I said, “There is one more thing I wanted to do before you go.”
Going to the cash register, I opened up the drawer and pulled out some money. Gabrielle was just finishing putting up her herbs when I put the money in her face. She glanced down at the cash and then at me, confusion on her face.
“What is this, Hattie?” she asked.
“Your wages,” I said. “Today, you worked as a human, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s earned you some money for your trouble.”
Rabbi Goldsmith watched all this with a fatherly smile while Gabrielle shook her head. “I only did what I was—“
“Created to do?” I countered, raising an eyebrow. “That part of your life is over, Gabrielle. If nothing else, accept it as a birthday present from someone who wants you to succeed.”
The tears came back to the ex- golem's eyes at my words. She took the money and swept me up in another hug in the same motion. Even though she was human, the strength I felt in her embrace surprised me.
“I promise, Hattie, that I will not let you down,” Gabrielle said with another smile.
“When have you ever, Gabrielle Goldsmith?” I asked back, grasping her shoulders with genuine affection.
“And, on that heartwarming note, I fear that I must now take my leave,” the rabbi said, picking up the stack of papers. “The back door is still unlocked, I presume?”
“Always,” I confirmed. “But I wouldn’t recommend coming back in without Millie or me opening that door first.”
“Duly noted,” the rabbi said. “No idea have I to file this paperwork…I was wondering if—“
“Why don’t you let me handle that chore, Isaac?” Millie asked with her most winning smile. “I’ve certainly charmed enough of the guys in that office to get it done quickly.”
Murder, Magic, and Moggies Page 16
