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The man held up a fist. "He was here, and don't act like he weren't."
"Wasn't," she corrected. "That's not a subjunctive mode."
WHAP!.
This one hit harder than the man she'd killed, but the pain had been worth it. Judy blinked the sparkles from her vision, tears misting. "He left here about three."
"Where to?"
"How can I possibly know that!" Her outburst surprised the intruder. "I need more crack!"
"Nuh-uh." He walked slowly about the plush room, idly inspecting things. "No more freebies. You wanna get, you gotta give."
"What? This!" she spat, stood up, and opened her blouse. "You want to rape me again like your friend! Go ahead!"
He looked at her with no interest. "Ain't in the mood right now. I'm sick of ya already. I'm on a hot seat now, baby. What he tell ya when he was here?"
Think, think! Judy urged herself. Then lie. "He told me to look for an alternate bas.e.m.e.nt; he said there's a skull buried in it and he wants the skull. He also said he wanted me to find a wooden mezuzah, a candleholder, and a wooden bowl." She looked him in the stocking-veiled eyes.
"He said if I found it, you guys would give me fifty pieces of crack." She reached under the couch where she'd previously put the golden menorah and bowl.
Behind the mask, the man's eyes turned astonished. "Here's half of what you want," Judy said. "So give me half of the crack. Now. It'll take me a while longer to find the rest."
He picked up the items. "Well if that ain't..."
"I want twenty-five rocks now. A deal's a deal."
"When's loverboy come home?"
"Tomorrow night, maybe," she lied. "He's not sure."
"Well then you's better find the skull and the box by tomorrow day."
s.h.i.+t...
"But if'n ya find that wooden box, we'll be able to find the skull."
Her face screwed up at the comment. She knew full well that the parchment within the mezuzah contained no clues as to the whereabout of the skull. What the h.e.l.l is he thinking? It was best to not ask, better to bide her time. "Fine. Give me twenty-five rocks-"
He tossed her a bag. "There's ten. Ya get the rest when we get the rest." He turned and began to walk away.
"What time are you coming tomorrow?"
"Any time I f.u.c.kin' want." He grinned through the sheer mask. "Maybe to night, if I get h.o.r.n.y." He went back through the kitchen. A moment later, the back door slammed.
At least I didn't get raped this time, she thought in a tense relief. She ground her teeth when she looked at the bag of crack, smoked a piece to buff off the edge, then let herself think.
She'd give him the mezuzah tomorrow or the next day, but for now she'd keep looking for the skull. She still couldn't imagine what he meant. If he has the mezuzah, he can find the skull himself? What did that mean?
Her thoughts slowed- Wait a minute! She rushed to her office, skimmed the books there, mostly her philosophy and theosophic texts. She had one shelf, too, of books on Kabbala.
"Here it is..." She pulled down a volume ent.i.tled The Golem of Prague & Other Rabbinic Legends. Suddenly a piece of the puzzle had occurred to her: what the bald intruder had said, plus the bizarre note left in the mailbox last night. She felt strangely certain that the late-night messenger had been Mr. Croter, the Realtor. I'm sure that was his car. But of all the things to leave in the mailbox...
As a professor of theosophy-basically high-falutin' folklore-it was natural for Judy to know what golems were, for their mythology had a way of weaving in and out of Talmudic texts throughout the ages. An inanimate being crafted from mud or clay and given a false life through certain mystic rituals. But of course it was all myth. Judy stared at the book's chapter-opening definition:
GOLEM: n. (p.r.o.nounced goilm), in Jewish folklore, an artificially created being-most often bearing human shape-endowed with life by supernatural means.
The mere definition rekindled her recollections from the history of Judaic myth. The most famous golem came from the narrative of one Rabbi Judah Loew, the Marahal of Prague. Loew, one of the most prominent sixteenth-century Jewish scholars, was said to have used Kabbalistic magic to create a golem in the spring of 1580. The creature was made of clay from the Vltava River, clay reputed to have been enchanted by angels before the time of Adam. Loew's golem repelled a ma.s.sive military persecution of the Jews in the Prague ghettos and was so formidable in its b.l.o.o.d.y onslaught that the emperor quickly begged Loew to call off the monster, and in return promised protection for the Jews. Loew agreed, deactivating the creature but keeping it close at hand should it ever be needed again.
But that's just a story, Judy knew. A fable.
The coincidence irked her. Loew, she thought. Lowen. Lowensport. And now a note in my mailbox about golems...
She read further: Though there are many methods of animating a golem, Loew's remains the most famous. On the golem's chest he inscribed the word "aemeath," (meaning "G.o.d's truth") just after performing a secret ritual. When time came to deactivate the creature, Loew merely rubbed out the first two letters of the holy word, leaving "maeth," (meaning "death"). More obscure methods predated Rabbi Loew's famous achievement, during the schism between the twelfth century Kabbalists and the Kischuphs (for more, see "Kischuph and Anti-Hasidic Sects"). Originally Kischuph existed as an even more severe variation of Kabbala, but later became disenchanted with G.o.d when their mysticism gravitated toward occultism. Whereas Kabbala wors.h.i.+ps the Ten Sefers, or Ten Books of G.o.d's Enlightenment, the Kischups are said to have-via use of black magic-discovered the Eleventh Sefer, or the Sefer Met (the Book of Darkness) whose secrets were overheard by S'mol (Samael, the Jewish heriarchal fallen angel) when G.o.d was teaching Kabbala to the angels;hence, the most extreme Kischuphites became to Judiasm what medieval satanists became to Catholicism and Orthodoxy. It was these sects in particular who would masquerade as Kabbalists while serving the devil in secret. It is further thought that S'mol granted the secrets of the Sefer Met to all who would turn against G.o.d, and one such secret was the engaging of golems for maleficent purposes. Kischuphites used blood rites to charge golems, often through an occultized verge or circination (a circle energized by magic, see "Magic Circles"). A torch was lit within the circle, to light the demon's way, and when that light turned blue, the Gaon knew that the rite had succeeded, for this signaled proximity to the nether regions, which actually shared s.p.a.ce with the fringe of the circle. At this point, an offering was made, typically some corrupt item of food to be bestowed to the demon solicited. Cursed bread is widely referred to through the middle ages, produced by burying fresh bread in the grave of a corpse. (S'mol is reputed to be particularly fond of it.) In return for this offering the solicited demon would give false life to a golem properly prepared.
Judy's mind stalled.
For Kischuphites, an evil golem was best when made impure, by covering the corpse of a sinful person with the spectral clay of the Vltava River, the largest river in Czechoslovakia.
She blinked at the words.
Golems were also engaged by the Gaons of Kischuphites as diviners, to find secret treasure or procureicons and totems lost. Some archival narratives claim that S'mol also bestowed the secret of premonition via kathomancy-that is, beholding the future by inspecting the steam of the baked head of an a.s.s or mongrel dog.
Now the coincidences snapped in Judy's mind. The baked head of a dog, she thought very slowly, remembering the headless dogs she'd seen at the graveyard and the clearing. Clay from Czechoslovakia, and she knew too well that that's exactly where the clay stolen from the bas.e.m.e.nt had come from back in 1880. Blood rites in a magic circle, and what else could the b.l.o.o.d.y stone circle in the clearing be?
"But if'n ya find that wooden box, we'll be able to find the skull," the bald intruder had said, and here she was reading of the golem's power in divining-finding things. And last night, hadn't she seen light in vicinity of the clearing turn blue?
The last connection made her most ill at ease. She reread the pa.s.sage aloud: "An evil golem was best when made impure, by covering the corpse of a sinful person..." And in the bas.e.m.e.nt were human bones, she knew. Bones and mummified flesh...covered with clay...
Her thoughts ticked along with the clock. Kischuph, she thought. Such an obscurity, though she remembered it fairly well from some of the cla.s.ses she'd taught. Kabbalists used the emblem of the Magical Sign of Zohar: the top triangle containing the face of man illuminated by G.o.d, the bottom triangle showing the dark face, or the face of man seeking that illumination. While the emblem of Kischuph had two dark faces, the bottom face seeking the blessings of the unG.o.dly.
Asher Lowen has the Zohar in his house, she thought. It was proof that he was a genuine Kabbalist, so why did Judy have suspicions about him? The similarity of the names Loew and Lowen? More reading told her this:
It was these Kischuphites who honed the black art of golem-making to serve the most nefarious purposes; in fact, heretical Gaons and their Kahals were often highly respected scholars of the Kabbala, while meeting in secret at night to pursue their unholy craft, animating golems to rape and kill gentiles and Jews alike, all in homage to Samael. Riches were bestowed to them in remuneration.
Judy muttered the conjecture aloud, "So maybe Asher Lowen and his Kahal are really..." But then she severed the notion, thinking, No, no, no, it's just myth!
The next pa.s.sage: Unlike the famous Rabbi Judah Loew, Kischuphs would animate their golems with special words contrary to G.o.d, generally the name S'mol or other higher demons, or merely with a word denoting the function desired, such as "tzahch" (murder), "nohv" (steal), "ahf" (rape, adultery), or any other word to execute the desired function.
Aside from de-animation (erasure of the animating word on the creature's forehead or chest), it is thought that golems may only be destroyed by severe impact, dismemberment, or fire. Warding spells, prayers of exorcism, and Judaic icons are thought to keep golems at bay.
More unease, for she knew that the wooden mezuzah contained a prayer of warding. She rushed down to the bas.e.m.e.nt, pushed open the door to the hidden room. Now the prayer cabinet contained only the mezuzah. She picked it up. Why would a redneck rapist and drug dealer want this?
She paused, wincing at the beckoning withdrawal, then ran out of the bas.e.m.e.nt, taking the mezuzah with her. Upstairs, she found the proper address in the phone book. She pulled her bike from the closet and rode off down the road.
IV.
Several of the crack girls had revitalized the old clay with warm water and trowels, mixing it into a perfect, tacky mash, and it was Ahron and Eli who carefully spread it out over the dead woman's body, a slow process for meticulousness was crucial. The Gaon watched, his eyes aglitter.
"How long's it take?" D-Man asked.
"Once the corpse is properly covered?" Asher replied. "Only as long as it takes me to write the melech's name on her chest."
Great, D-Man thought with some sarcasm. Then we'll have two'a them things, and if we get that skull we'll have three...
"You're gonna use the skull for the head of the next one, huh?" he remarked. "But what are you gonna use for a body?"
"It's my hope that we'll be able to use Seth Kohn's body," Asher answered. "I like the irony. The man who owns Gavriel's house-the house that rightfully I should own." He patted D-Man's shoulder. "If you like, you can be the one to cut off his head."
"Uh, well..."
"And you were wise not to torture or kill the girl," Asher said next. "That can come later, and perhaps we'll try out the new addition to our family for the task. But she did find the menorah and holy water bowl, so it's logical to give her a chance to find the mezuzah." Asher looked back to the table where the dead woman lay, her nude features still robust in death, the face remarkably intact. In darkness, she might even pa.s.s for a living woman. "Take care, Ahron, to spread the clay smoothly."
"Yes, Gaon."
"Once enlivened, her features cannot be changed. We want her to look pristine."
I could be throwing back a beer or watchin' a t.i.t flick, D-Man thought. Instead I'm watchin' a bunch'a rabbis spread wet clay over a dead chick. "How come the one in the box hadda have its flesh all cut off 'fore they could put the clay on?"
Asher regarded the long box that housed the surviving 1880 golem. "To reduce the total surface area, my friend. You see, in the time of my great ancestor they had so little clay to work with, they were forced to strip the bodies down to the bone. The less body ma.s.s, the less clay required. Now, though, we needn't worry about that." He looked at the four barrels of clay pilfered from Kohn's bas.e.m.e.nt. "The hilna of the Vltava." His eyes gleamed at D-Man. "It's magic."
D-Man gulped.
"Gavriel Lowen could've made a platoon of goilems with that much clay, but he died before he could receive it. Now we have what he so needed, and we'll follow in his footsteps. Last night's supplication went perfectly. I know it will work." Asher glanced to the steaming dog's head sitting in a pot. "I've foreseen it."
s.h.i.+t, man, I just wanna sell drugs, D-Man thought. I don't want nothin' to do with this black magic s.h.i.+t... But it was too late, wasn't it? He was already neck-deep.
Was it an inner thought-or a premonition-that suddenly stole Asher's attention? Eyes narrowed, he walked to the fireplace and swung out the iron bracket that held the next metal pot. With tongs he removed the lid, and the simmering dog's head within gave off a plume of steam. Asher stared into that steam, then closed his eyes.
What the h.e.l.l's he seein'? D-Man thought with a twinge. "I sense quite clearly now that your partner is no longer among the living. It's no matter, though."
"No matter?" D-Man objected. "If he's dead then some one must'a killed him. Maybe it was the girl, like you said."
"No matter," Asher repeated. He seemed dazed but content by the vision he'd just been shown. "Something much more important has just been unveiled to me."
"Yeah?"
"It seems the girl has not only found the mezuzah, but she's also taken it out of the house."
"So then-"
Asher nodded. "That blasted hex has finally been removed from the gravesite of Gavriel Lowen. S'mol is with us, good servant." Asher's pendant-the Sign of the Eleventh Sefer-dangled about his neck. He smiled at D-Man. "Go now, and take care of that other problem I mentioned."
D-Man made a dark nod. "Should I take that thing with me?"
"No." He opened the back door for D-Man. "I have other plans for him."
When D-Man left, Asher moved to the long box on the floor. He removed the lid, and said one word: "Rise..."
V.
Croter lived in a small house a mile out of Lowensport, nestled back in the woods. Judy was all but there before the teeth of her addiction bit down. She pulled her bike off between some trees and smoked another piece of crack, then collapsed to the ground, cringing. I hate myself, I hate... But what good was that? There'd be no quitting before Seth got home; deep down she knew that.
All she could do was continue to lie to herself.
She lay there for a time, as the sun sank through the trees. Eventually, she was able to steel herself and make it to Croter's house.
The man looked harried when he opened the door to her knock. "Miss...Parker? What are you-"
"Doing here?" She took the mezuzah from the bag and held it up. "You know what this is, don't you?"
Croter was taken aback. "Uh-why, it's an old-style mezuzah, like people used to hang on their doors."