Vengeance
Page 7
CHAPTER 7
The morning was met with the sound of gunfire. Katrina followed the others upstairs to crowd around the window. Soldiers and policemen were everywhere, and there was pandemonium. There were soldiers spilling out of a nearby military vehicle, and people were running in every direction. Rabbi Cejtlin called for everyone to head toward the basement, then came around to Katrina’s side and whispered in her ear.
“Come with me.”
Katrina turned to look at him, and saw that Yehuda had distracted her mother by engaging her in a conversation as she led her toward the basement with the others. Katrina followed him not to the entrance down to the basement, but to his study, where she realized he had the book open on his desk. Yehuda turned quickly toward him before descending, and they exchanged a glance. Katrina saw that glance but it was too quick for her to glean anything from it. Her mother continued down the stairs.
As Yehuda shut the basement door, Rabbi Cejtlin turned to her, pulling another chair beside his.
“Sit, Katrina, sit. We must talk.”
The Rabbi sat before the ancient book and carefully opened it to a page he had marked with a pencil. Katrina had never made it past the cover page of the book, and drank in the open pages with interest. The Rabbi pulled out his reading glasses and turned his attention to the pages, scanning them briefly before speaking.
“This book is very old. Yehuda had heard stories about it, heard the tales about Tzippi, but no matter how much she scoured this temple, she could never find it!”
The Rabbi chuckled quickly to himself, recalling some quiet memory, then snapped out of it when he heard more gunfire outside.
“I do not know how Tzippi found it, or where, but it is older than this temple. It is someone’s interpretation of the Sefer Yetzirah. The Sefer Yetzirah itself is over 1,700 years old. The author of this book claims to have been a Rabbi, and that he wrote it in 5166.”
Katrina tried to do the math, realizing that the book must have been at least 600 years old. She turned her attention back to the book, even more fascinated.
“Your Golem. He is not like anything I have ever seen or read about. The way he . . . devoured those men; there is nothing written about such things. At least I have never read about such things until today.” Rabbi Cejtlin turned to the book and began to read, slowly, translating as he read.
Once the Golem has killed, he will take unto him the bodies of the evildoer, feed on their flesh, their evil, cleansing their souls and lightening their travel to Sheol. Golem is the embodied power of God but not the hand of God.
That which is created by God is filled with light; that which is created by man is without spark, is not complete, and is damned. Abraham’s calf sated but was an empty vessel, a golem, and as dust thou art, unto dust shalt thou return.
The Rabbi turned a page, and continued to read, more slowly this time.
She who wields Golem wields the power of God. However, this power does not come without a price. Righteous vengeance is not for man to exercise.
The Rabbi closed the book and turned his attention to Katrina. He took a deep breath before speaking.
“Katrina, you saved my life yesterday. However, in doing so . . . . Have you ever heard of winning the battle but losing the war?”
Katrina shook her head. Rabbi looked toward the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to ignore the melee outside, and finally focused back on her.
“According to this book, Golem will grow stronger with every kill, and God more angry. Golem is like . . . .” The Rabbi looked into the air and pursed his lips for a moment. “Golem is like stealing a gun from the soldier’s armory and using it to shoot a burglar. Yes, you shot the burglar, but in the end, you, too, are a thief, and eventually the soldiers will come after you.”
Katrina listened carefully, and the Rabbi’s gentle chastising felt like a stuffy veil slowly being draped across her. She had been kicking her feet back and forth under the chair, and she froze them finally, and looked up at the Rabbi.
“So I should have let them kill you. Forget about eye for an eye. God will damn me for using a weapon to defend someone who was defenseless. What kind of God would do that?”
Rabbi Cejtlin looked at her for a moment, the hint of a smile on his face, like that of a dentist that hurt his patient while filling a cavity.
“Dear Katrina, I am telling you what this book says. There is only one God, only one Creator, and He is a good God. But He is a jealous God. You have . . . .” The Rabbi looked up, seeking the right word. “usurped some of his power, using the magic of the Sefer Yetzirah to harness that power. Of course, it is merely a gloomy reflection of God’s power, so your Golem cannot speak, cannot form independent thought. Like Plato, your Golem is merely a shadow of a man on the wall of God’s temple. And yes, you have read the Torah. You know God can be angry and vengeful. Even the righteous have been punished.”
The Rabbi then pursed his lips again and shook his head slightly, and Katrina wasn’t sure whether he regretted his words or her actions. Either way, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder.
“If I understand the words of this ancient rabbi, I believe that your Golem will eventually return to the earth for good. I think, perhaps, that Golem is like, perhaps like a leaking faucet in God’s house. When the leak starts, He begins to hear the drops, and after some time, He will go searching for the source of the leak. Once He finds that leak, He will repair it. In that sense, I believe God will come looking for this leak, and take it from you. He doesn’t like competition.” Rabbi Cejtlin smiled, a thin smile, one that seemed to require effort.
Katrina returned the smile with a frown, turning her eyes back to her feet, which she had begun to swing again. She glanced over at the book, debating whether she should regret her actions. She sifted through her feelings, sitting there in the Rabbi’s study, and eventually concluded that there was no regret in her heart. In fact, the Rabbi’s warnings had the opposite effect. She would not challenge him; indeed, she could not battle the Rabbi with words. He was far too educated, too knowledgeable of the word of God. She nodded slowly, ending the conversation with her nodding, and turned to leave. The Rabbi squeezed her shoulder one more time before returning to his study. She headed toward the basement to be with everyone else, the sounds of battle in the street not relenting at all.