The Golem Part 17

Judy wasn't surprised. "Before I know it I'm so habituated to cocaine that I'm not even myself anymore. The other teachers in my department can tell that something's wrong, but I can't. My lessons slide, students start dropping my cla.s.ses, several filed complaints." Judy had to look at the wall to go on. "The dean's office ordered me to take a leave of absence and get treatment, but in the meantime powdered cocaine stopped working. It wasn't enough of a kick. So instead of going to treatment, I go to a crack dealer. That was the beginning of the end, but the end came pretty quickly. I...got arrested, the college fired me, and..." Judy's monologue faltered. "Well, to make a short story long, I eventually did get treatment, and that's how I met Seth. We both checked into the same rehab center." Judy laughed to buff off some of the grim edge. "That guy I dated was right about one thing, though. I did lose weight, though I wouldn't recommend this particular diet."

They all laughed lightly at the remark.

"And the best part is," Asher said, "you've both survived the odds, proof of your own free will overcoming the error we're all subjected to. Just as it says in the Bible, you've dressed yourselves in the new self, and discarded the worldly clothes of the old with nothing more or less than the free will granted to all of us through the wisdom of En Soph."

"En Soph?" Seth questioned.

"One of the Jewish names for G.o.d," Judy said. "There's Yahweh, of course, and Elohim and Hayyim."

"It's remarkable that you know that," Asher said.

Judy shrugged. "I was a theology professor."

"Judy knows more about Judaism than I do," Seth chuckled, "and she's a Christian."

"Yeah," Judy said, "I'm Seth's goylefriend."

Asher had to stifle amus.e.m.e.nt. "You really are something, Judy." He turned to Seth. "Now, Seth, I did read the article about you in the paper, but I'll admit I don't know much about this career of yours. A video game developer?"

"That's essentially what I do, but I also devise the creative elements of the game."

"And this House of Flesh... it's science fiction, right? It's not..."

Seth laughed, now that he felt fully unwound. "No, no, Asher, I know the t.i.tle sounds like something X-rated but it's just a sci-fi fantasy scenario."

"You must've outdone yourself, based on the game's success."

"In truth I just got lucky. I gave an old concept a new look, and fans took to it."

"Seth can be a little too humble sometimes," Judy said. "The first run outsold any game in history."

"That's quite an accomplishment," Asher said.

"And I'm his level tester," she added. "The game's really big now on multiplayer mode, which means people all over the country can play against each other on the Internet."

"Judy, I'll be honest," Asher remarked. "We here in Lowensport don't know the difference between the Internet and a hairnet. We don't even have computers. But I'm very happy for your success."

"Thanks, Asher," Seth said. "It's a lot of fun developing, but like I said, I just got lucky."

A door swung opened, and Eli appeared. "Anyone for more coffee or blintzes?"

They all declined, but for the moment that the door was opened, Seth and Judy noticed something on the wall of the other room: a diagram with two pyramid shapes joined at the base and a face in each pyramid. The top face was light, the bottom dark. Seth had no idea what it was but Judy seemed to recognize it at once.

"Asher," she said, intrigued. "You're a Kabbalist." "Why, yes." Again, the rabbi was surprised by her knowledge. "Does it show?"

"I saw the Head of Zohar in the other room. Can't believe I didn't figure it out before that. No visible synagogue, and your reference earlier to emanations."

"I'm very impressed by your learning. Genuine Kabbala is barely known these days."

"Well, I was a theology professor but I also taught a course on theosophy."

Asher seemed enthused. "Now there's a word you hear these days even less than Kabbala. The study of the mystical elements of G.o.d."

"It was a terrific course but not too many applicants," Judy said. "But you'll be happy to know that the very first leg of the cla.s.s covered Kabbalism."

Seth felt remiss. "I've heard of Kabbala but I really don't know what it is."

Asher looked at him. "You have to understand what it isn't first, Seth. It isn't magic, or shamanism, or anything like the current rage of Kabbala popping up in California. It's not esoteric or mystical, and it's not a denomination, it's simply a deeper and more subjective interpretation of Judaism."

Judy added, "True Kabbala is an oral tradition, right? Said to be the first religion, taught to the angels by G.o.d himself?"

"Exactly," Asher agreed, "and then taught to Adam by the angels-"

"Via the Ten Sefers, or books, reflecting the ten ideal numbers-"

"-and the Ten Emanations of G.o.d," Asher clarified. "I must plead ignorance again," Seth said. "Some Jew I am, huh?"

"All that matters is faith, Seth," Asher said. "The Kabbala isn't for every Jew in the same way that, say, Jesuitism isn't for every Catholic. It's merely a deeper than usual study of the earliest tenets of Judaism."

Seth pointed to the door. "What was that diagram in the other room?"

Asher's eyes beamed at Judy. "Judy? I'd be interested in hearing your answer."

"The Magical Head of Zohar," she replied. "The top-or bright-face represents man in G.o.d's image enlightened by the Ten Emanations, and the bottom-or dark-face is the..." She chewed her lip. "Oh, I can't quite remember the name."

"The Neptesh," the rabbi responded. "Man's cruder soul, struggling to be worthy of the Emanations and their light."

"The more the pyramid shapes draw together the more enlightened the Neptesh becomes," Judy carried on, "and when they draw in to even angles, the shapes become the Star of David."

"Very good, very good," Asher complimented. "The Head of Zohar is our symbol just as Judy's cross is the symbol of a Christian."

Seth slumped. "Every day I learn more and more, which only reminds me of how little I actually know."

"Don't feel bad, Seth," the rabbi laughed. "Very few people know anything about genuine Kabbala. But it's the heart of my faith, and of everyone else in Lowensport."

"Was Gavriel Lowen a Kabbalist, too?" Seth asked. "Your great-great-grandfather?"

"Great-great-great-grandfather." Asher smiled. "And, yes. He probably led the very first Kabbala kahal in America." Asher gestured a small portrait on the wall, depicting a stern-faced man with a beard and no mustache. "That's him there. He was a great man...but met a tragic end."

Oh, right," Seth recalled. "The Realtor who sold me the house mentioned that."

"Persecution is everywhere, like any other evil." Asher looked at his watch and quickly raised his brows. "My, I've lost track of time. I'd love to chat longer but Lydia and I have to have some face time over at the clinic."

"We've got to be going, too, Asher," Seth said and stood up with Judy. "But thanks so much for having us. You're a very inspiring man."

"Why, thank you!"

They all shook hands. "Why don't you and Lydia come to dinner at our house some time?" Judy asked.

"Yeah," Seth said. "In your great-great-great-grandfather's house?"

"What a wonderful idea. We will, very soon." Asher showed them to the door. "And next time you're up our way, please stop by. My door is always open to you. And, Judy, based on your experience and the wonderful example of your own victory, perhaps I could impose on you to give a little talk to our residents at the House of Hope."

"It's no imposition at all, I'd be delighted."

They were about to leave but Seth stalled at the door. "Asher, you take donations, right?"

The rabbi didn't seem to understand. "Donations? For what?"

"For your rehab center."

"Oh, Seth, I didn't bring it up to needle you for a donation-"

"I know, Asher. But you must take donations."

"Honestly, we never have. It's all run by volunteers and any surplus in the community coffers, but I suppose-"

"We'd like to make a donation," Seth said and wrote off a quick check. "Please take this."

"Why, thank you." Asher nearly choked when he looked at the check. "Seth, I-I don't know what to say."

"No need to say anything. It's just a little something to help out."

"Well, well," Asher gulped. "Thank you so much." "Sure, and thank you. We'll call you soon about coming up for dinner."

Seth felt vibrant when they left. "What a great guy. And you're right, he's very inspiring."

"Rabbis are supposed to be," Judy said. "How much did you give him?"

"Thirty grand."

"Seth!"

Seth shrugged. "It's because of guys like him that you and I are still walking and talking."

"I know but...That was very generous."

"I'm just grateful that I have anything to give." He took her hand as they headed for the car. Some pa.s.sersby, mostly couples, were seen strolling the sidewalks, the men dressed like Asher, and women in dark conservative dresses akin to Lydia Lowen's. Those who took note of Seth and Judy smiled warmly and waved. At the end of a side street, the river gleamed, and seagulls floated in the air. "But now I think it's time to spend a little more money," Seth suggested. "Let's find a good restaurant."

III.

"Where you at?" Rosh asked into his "special occasion" cell phone, a simple TracPhone with a calling card and no server to subscribe to. "I need to rap with ya."

"Rap, huh?" replied D-Man's fuzzy voice. "Can't wait. I need to rap with you, too. We're near the clearing-you know the little place at the edge of the woods, near...you know."

Rosh thought he did. His curiosity twisted. "Isn't that where you guys bury-"

"Yeah, we bury people here-usually for you, R-" "Don't ever use my name-or anyone's name-over the phone," Rosh ordered. "Ever."

"Yeah, I know..."

"What's that?" Rosh snapped. "Yeah, I know...sir."

"Good, and don't forget that s.h.i.t. We're in town now, but sit tight. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"We'll be here," D-Man's voice fuzzed out.

What the f.u.c.k are those two idiots doing up there? Rosh snapped his phone closed and grimaced at the scene.

The SWAT men were packing up, the responding patrol cars already pulling away from the teetering house whose roof looked sucked in. Another day, another crack house, the corrupt captain mused. Just...not the right one...

The sun set quickly, as if escaping; it left Rosh to stand in orange-tinted darkness. Stein came out of the house and walked over.

"Can't believe it," Rosh complained. "Lazy gave us bad info. How do you like that for audacity-lying to cops."

"Actually, Captain, she wasn't lying."

Rosh felt a surge of expectant joy. "You're not telling me you found Jary Kapp on the second sweep of the house?"

"No," Stein said with little interest. "All I said was Lazy wasn't lying. Jary ain't inside but he was." Stein flapped something against Rosh's chest.

A Boston Red Sox hat.

"You're right," Rosh admitted. "His brother wore Yankees but Jary always wears Red Sox."

"Thought you'd like the souvenir," Stein commented with a snide smile.

"Yeah, thanks a f.u.c.kin' lot. Now come on. You drive." They got into the car and pulled off.

"Jary ain't stupid, Captain," Stein observed. "He knows there's a dragnet on for his a.s.s, so he's not holing up in the same place for long."

"Probably stays in a different hideout each night. f.u.c.ker must think he's Bin Laden."

Stein lit a cigarette at the wheel. "We'll probably get him when he tries to get back to Florida."

"Probably's not good enough, Stein." Rosh dug his own fingers hard into his thigh. "I want him."

"You gonna tell me where we're going?" Stein asked. "That clearing where the Two Stooges bury the sc.u.m-bags we contract."

"What for?"

"I just want to...ask them something. D-Man said he needs to talk to us, too."

"Next switch is two days from now. Maybe he's got it early."

"Maybe," Rosh muttered, and watched the moon follow them along the top of the endless switchgra.s.s.

Both men made sour expressions when they pulled into the clearing behind the familiar black step van. A gas lantern hung on a pole, lighting the macabre scene: D-Man and Nutjob both digging a hole.