Page 8 of The Golem of Mala Lubovnya
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Despite the golem’s love for evening prayers, they weren’t enough to calm his excitement. He paced the attic from end to end, replaying the afternoon’s events, speculating as to what would happen the next day. He would be permitted out of the attic to work, and at Jakob’s side! He squeezed himself tightly as if he might otherwise burst with pleasure.
The room grew too dark for him to see, and he settled down in his nest of a bed. But he couldn’t fall asleep. He wondered if Jakob was also lying awake, thinking about him. The man hadn’t seemed angry at having been watched. He seemed… curious, as if the golem were a puzzle he might like to solve. The golem vowed to work very hard, to make Jakob happy he’d requested the assistance. Maybe Jakob would even allow him to talk a little, to ask a few questions. There were so many things the golem wanted to know.
Alone in the dark and dusty attic, the golem whispered the mason’s name. “Jakob. Jakob.Jakob.” It was a good name, he thought. A strong name.
The golem awokebefore the sun. He waited impatiently for morning prayers to finish. He always preferred the evening prayers anyway, because the man with the wonderful voice sang only then. The golem folded his bedding and stored it on the shelf. He straightened his too-short trousers and too-small vest. He rubbed the two metal buttons until they shone. Then he stood near the door and waited. Time passed very slowly; he began to wonder if Jakob had changed his mind.
Just as the golem started to truly worry, the door opened. “Come on, then,” said Rabbi Eleazar. He looked a bit rumpled, as if he’d dressed in a hurry that morning. But the golem grinned and hurried to follow him down the stairs. If the rabbi hadn’t been in front of him, the golem would have taken the stairs several at a time, leaping down like a goat.
Two old men stood in the foyer, frowning at him. One of them carried a thick book and the other had a walking stick, which he raised as if to protect himself. Neither said a word as Rabbi Eleazar opened one of the big front doors and motioned outward. “Obey Jakob as you obey me,” he ordered. “While you work, he is your master.”
The golem nodded enthusiastically.
Jakob waited at the bottom of the shul’s front steps. He wore a thick cloak against the morning cold, and a heavy hat was pressed down over his curls. A large wooden box sat at his feet. He looked nervous and didn’t return the golem’s smile. He didn’t speak either. He simply shrugged, picked up the box, and began to march down the street. People gaped as the golem rushed to catch up.
The box looked heavy. “Master? I can carry that for you.”
Jakob flinched a little. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry. What shall I call you?”
“Jakob.”
The golem sighed in relief. He didn’t want to make Jakob angry before their day had even begun.
Passersby stopped in their tracks as Jakob and the golem walked by, and other people stared from house windows. Jakob looked steadfastly ahead, not even glancing at the golem. He walked until the street ended at a stone wall. Then he turned onto a street that paralleled the wall. The golem noticed that plants had rooted themselves in the small cracks between the stones. Maybe in the spring, some would flower. He thought it very brave of them to chance an existence somewhere so precarious.
An arched gateway led through the wall. There were heavy wooden doors to block the opening, but they were propped wide open. Judging from the weeds and bits of debris at their bases, neither door had been closed in a long time.
As soon as Jakob and the golem exited the town through the gateway, the road became packed dirt instead of cobbles. The golem liked the way the soil felt under his soles, although he couldn’t help wondering whether the road minded being walked on. Did it hurt when metal-rimmed wagon wheels rolled over it, or when horses clomped their metal-shod hooves?
Very few buildings stood outside the wall, although a few small houses nestled among the fields. People worked in the fields, gathering the last of the season’s harvest, and a few cows and goats watched curiously as the golem walked by.
Jakob turned off the road onto a narrow path that was hardly more than trodden grass. The path curved around a stand of trees, then rose up a small, steep hill. A space had been cleared atop the hill, and a few stones had been set around the boundaries of Jakob’s future home. The golem wondered why Jakob wanted to live so far from everyone else, but he didn’t ask. Instead he watched the clouds scud across the sky as Jakob set down the wooden box and removed his tools.
“I need more stone.” Jakob pointed to the field below. “I was going to borrow a cart, but perhaps—”
“I can carry it!” the golem exclaimed. “I’m very strong.”
The shadow of a smile flickered at the corners of Jakob’s lips. “I know.”
The golem ran back down the path toward the spot Jakob had indicated. Sure enough, a large pile of rocks sprawled untidily, as if the farmers had been too annoyed by their presence to bother stacking them neatly. No doubt the rocks would prove more useful in the walls of Jakob’s house than scattered across the field. The golem hefted two of them—one under each arm—and rushed back to Jakob.
“Where would you like them, Jakob?”
Jakob’s eyebrows were raised high. “You carry them as if they weighed nothing.”
“I was made to be strong.”
“Yes.” Jakob shook his head slightly and pointed at a spot a few yards from the cleared space. “Put them there.”
The golem obeyed. “Do you want them all?”
“Not all at once. I have to shape them before I can set them in place. Bring the biggest ones now so I can plan the base of the walls.”
“Yes, Jakob.” The golem hurried back down the hill.
