Page 16 of The Golem of Mala Lubovnya
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Emet was shy with Jakob the next day, too much in awe of him to talk as they walked to the hill. Jakob was quiet too; he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Even when they began to work, Jakob spoke only to issue orders.
During the previous week, a cartload of timbers had been delivered to the bottom of the hill. One of Jakob’s brothers drove the wagon but remained seated and silent as Emet carried the big pieces of wood up to the house. When the wagon was empty, he drove away without a word. Emet lifted the timbers so Jakob could fasten them in place, and by the end of the day, the roof was formed. “That would have taken my family the entire week,” Jakob said with wonder. “And we’d all have been sore afterward.”
Once the roof supports were in place, Jakob showed Emet how to install the thatch. That job required skill more than brute strength and took them some time. After they eventually finished, they went inside and smeared clay daub over the ceiling. Emet thought the clay might have come from the same place he did, which made him happy—it was as if Jakob would always have a bit of Emet in his home.
Today the daub was dry. Emet helped Jakob smooth it out; then they swept the debris off the stone floor and scattered it outside. Many small tasks remained after that. They glazed the small windows, hung the solid door, and built a few shelves and cupboards. While Jakob worked on carving the mantelpiece, Emet assembled the boards for the front porch.
Woodworking was still very new to Emet, and he asked frequent questions. He was inside the house, asking yet again, when a woman’s voice called from outside. “Jakob? Jakob!”
Jakob set his tools down very quickly. “Mama,” he muttered. He rushed out the door with Emet behind him.
Jakob’s mother stood a short distance from the house. Her head was tilted to the side as she inspected the structure. She wore several layers of sweaters and stockings and scarves, and a small wheelbarrow was at her side. “It is a very pretty house, Jakob.”
Jakob embraced her. “Thank you, Mama.”
“I am amazed by how quickly you’ve built it! You’ve worked yourself to exhaustion.”
“I haven’t. I had Emet’s help.” Jakob gestured in Emet’s direction and then seemed struck by a thought. “I should introduce you properly. Mama, this is Emet the golem. My friend. Emet, this is my mother, Mrs. Rivka Abramov.”
Emet had never been introduced to anyone before and wasn’t sure what to do. “Hello, ma’am,” he said softly as Mrs. Abramov peered sharply at him.
“Hello,” she responded finally. “You have worked very hard for my son.”
“I’m happy to help.”
She nodded, then clucked her tongue. “And even a golem must be cold in such clothing, in this weather! I thought so yesterday when I saw you in the shul. So I’ve brought you something. It’s not much—I had very little time, and we are not wealthy people.” As Emet watched with curiosity and astonishment, she pulled something out of the barrow. It was a folded piece of fabric. At first he thought it might be a curtain for Jakob’s house or perhaps a rug, but when Mrs. Abramov unfolded it, he saw it was actually an enormous cloak.
Mrs. Abramov flapped the fabric a little. “Ach, it’s not such a pretty thing. If I had all winter, I could knit you a sweater. This is only bits and pieces of old clothing sewn together. You see?” She pointed to a dark-red patch. “This was a tunic Jakob wore when he was a boy.”
Jakob grinned widely. “You’ve made him a coat of many colors, Mama?”
She flapped her hand at her son as if she were annoyed, but Emet saw the sparkle in her eyes. She walked to Emet and held the cloak out, and when he hesitated to take it—he couldn’t quite believe it was for him—she clucked again and stood on tiptoes so she could settle it on his shoulders. It was heavy and warm, and it smelled like Jakob.
Emet wrapped the cloak around himself. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
“Ach, it’s nothing. Just a rag.” Her face glowed with pleasure.
Jakob watched the interchange with puzzlement on his face. Now he came forward to kiss her cheek. “That was nice of you, Mama.”
“It’s nothing. I brought other things too, for you. Some old household goods, which I thought you could use. A soup pot, bedding… remember that little green rug from when you were small? You used to trip over it every morning. You were such a clumsy child.”
He grinned at her. “Thank you. Would you like to see the inside? It’s not finished, but—”
“No. It’s bad luck. You can have me for a proper visit when you’re through with it. Go put these things away. I want a word with your golem.”
Emet and Jakob exchanged uneasy glances, but Jakob nodded. “All right.” He pushed the wheelbarrow to his porch, struggled to get it up the single step, and then brought it inside and shut the door.
“Emet is a good name,” Mrs. Abramov said.
“Thank you. Jakob gave it to me.”
“Hmm. You work well together, you and my son.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turned her head to gaze down the hill at the town. She had Jakob’s eyes, but they were troubled. She crossed her arms over her ample chest, hugging herself. “Speak truly, Emet. Will you protect my Jakob?”
