A Miracle Lost - A Miracle Regained

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A MIRACLE LOST — A MIRACLE REGAINED
BY: RAMI

A Miracle Lost — A Miracle regained recounts the events Of Halloween Night 2010, when a young girl, who had formerly been a boy, reverts to his old self, because of horrifying events, and then through a new miracle and the assistance of an ancient hero who is commanded back into existence regains her lost femininity.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, I screamed in a voice that I had not heard since March. The voice I heard was that of Robert Ian Mazel. A boy’s voice. It was the voice of the boy I had been, before that miraculous Purim night. On that night, a miracle had happened and I transformed, from a boy, to a girl, named Robyn Esther Mazel. The girl that I always knew I was and whom I always wished and prayed to become.

My scream had awoken me from a nightmare. I could not recall it exactly, but I knew horrible things had occurred. I could recall that I was in danger, and that evil supernatural beings had tried to destroy me. It all seemed very real. I knew I was dreaming about a real event, about something that had occurred recently. I sensed having seen something too atrocious to contemplate. A name kept on repeating itself in my head. It was an odd name, but one I’ve heard before. The name was Molech.

I related in “The King’s Outstretched Scepter,” that my transformation from boy to girl had occurred when during the reading of the Megilah, King Ahasuerus stretched out his scepter to his queen. I did not really realize that a miracle had occurred until the next morning when I woke up. On waking, I immediately knew I was a girl. I had done a quick survey of my important bodily parts, and noted the significant differences. But, what I knew in my heart, was confirmed, when my entire family began treating me as a 12 year old girl.

The miracle of my transformation was so complete that even our family’s photo albums, contained photos of me as a girl. The photos started when I was a baby girl in a pink outfit, and included pictures of me as Queen Esther. Nothing remained that indicated that I had ever been a boy.

I still had memories that I had been a boy. But after the first couple of days, those memories were never in the forefront of my brain, and unless something specific triggered a memory, such as playing softball over the summer instead of baseball, my past remained my past. As far as I knew, there were only two people who knew what had happened. They were my cousin Susan and my Bubby Elka. Of course, they kept the secret. It was seldom discussed.

I woke up terribly shaken and sobbed, with great big tears. I was scared about my nightmare and afraid of what the return of my old voice portended. My cries began to get worse, until I realized that I had better get a grip on myself. Such a racket would surely lead to someone, a parent, or sibling to come running to my room to check out the commotion, and see if I was safe.

The first thing I did was look at the clock. It was one of those fancy ones that had both the day, date and time. It read Monday, November 1, 2010, 12:00:55 A.M. Since I had gone to bed at just after 11:00 P.M. Sunday night, October 31, 2010, it meant that I had been in bed, asleep, for less than an hour. I was surprised that I had awoken after such a short time, since a 11:00 bed time was unusual for a school night, but I had been up late because, Sunday night was Halloween and I had been out with a few of my girl friends from class doing Halloween things like trick or treating. On reflection they were not girl friends, they were just like classmates.

As I slowly awakened, and shook out the cobwebs I remembered my scream. The scream that had actually awakened me, and whose voice it had been in. I felt a terror, course through my body, a terror that would rival the terror that had awakened me. In fact, for a fleeting second, I felt like dying. Of course, I was rational enough to reject that feeling immediately.

I knew what I had to do, so I commenced a body check, reminiscent of the one I had conducted when I had awaken on that happy March morning. I started at the top of my head, my long gorgeous brunette hair that hung down several inches past my shoulders, was now a typical boy’s cut. It was even shorter and more in style with the hair that other boy’s wore then what I had worn before that March day. As I worked down my body, I felt the material and feel of what I was wearing. A pair of boring boy’s pajamas replaced my pretty pink nightie. Of course, as I glanced down I did not see those tiny little bumps sticking out of my chest that signified that I possessed a pair of A cup boobs. I was now as flat as a board. I then worked my way down; I lifted the hem of my pajama bottoms and looked inside. The slit that signified where my vagina had been had been replaced by a penis and a scrotum. My examination of course revealed that I was no longer a girl, but had returned to the boy I had been.

My next rational thought was to convince myself that I had had a nightmare and it was all a dream. Perhaps I decided if I went back to sleep it would all go away. I convinced myself that remaining awake would do me no good. So I tried to go back to sleep, but doing so was difficult. I tossed and turned, tried to rearrange the pillows and blankets, and counted sheep.

I guess I finally fell asleep, because the next thing I knew, actually the next thing I felt was this feeling in my bladder that indicated that I needed to pee. I got up and ran to the bathroom turned the knob and pushed. The door did not move, it was locked. That door had not been locked since March. My sister with whom I shared a bathroom had no recollection of it ever being required to be locked because she had no recollection that I had been a boy, and sisters did not need a locked door between them.

As I jiggled the doorknob, to try to let Ellen know I needed to get in, I yelled, “Ellen I got to pee, open the door”. From behind the closed door, I heard her snap back, “Twerp, stop bugging me, use Michael’s. I ran to my brother’s room, entered the bathroom, and out of instinct, at least recent instinct, I sat to pee. As I started to pee, I realized that something was protruding between my legs that must be held to direct the stream. I immediately grabbed my penis, and while finishing my pee, sighed with despair. What had occurred last night was not a dream. With a tear in my eye, I finished my business, washed up and returned to my room to dress for school.

As I entered my room, I looked around, and it was defiantly a boy’s room. No more vanity and the decorations had changed. As I opened my closets, and then my drawers, they contained only typical boy’s clothes. No dresses or skirts hung in the closet. No panties, bras, pantyhose, or tights were in the drawers. There was no jewelry case. None of my much-depleted pairs of shoes contained even one with heels. Everything looked the same as it had before I became Robyn.

As I completed changing, I heard my mom calling. She called out, “Robert hurry up, get down here and eat breakfast. You’ll be late to school.” The words filtering up from the kitchen were similar to those that I have heard since I was in Kindergarten. But for the last 7 months or so, they had been directed to Robyn, and not Robert. I listened to her and came down for breakfast.

“Susan called”, mom said to me as she was serving breakfast, “She said to tell you to wait for her to come over before you leave for school”. I wondered why Susan would make such a call. We were best girl friends as well as cousins. We always walked to school together. Then I realized that she walked to school with Robyn, and I was now Robert. While Susan and I were close for cousins of different genders, we seldom walked to school together when I was a boy. But, I thought, how did she know I was no longer Robyn?”

I quickly recovered my composure, “Mom, did Susan say anything else like why she wanted to walk to school with me. I was planning to walk with the guys. I hope it something important, and she doesn’t bug me”, I whined.

“What is the matter with you; were you up too late; did you eat too much candy; I warned you about that”, mom scolded. “Your right, I’m sorry, for a girl she is okay,” I muttered.

I finished breakfast, and got my backpack. Of course, it was for a boy and not my pretty pink one. I told mom I was leaving. I walked through the living room towards the front door. Before exiting, I stopped to look at the Purim album I had told you about last March. As I looked at the pictures I let out a small sigh, all of the pictures in the album were in their original form, showing me as a boy from birth.

I went outside to wait for Susan. I was dressed as a typical guy. I had on a watch and my Chai on its chain, but of course, I was wearing no other jewelry; my ears were not pierced; and I wore no make-up what so ever. I felt weird and wished I were dressed differently.

I spied Susan walking up the street, and she was alone. That was weird, because even on the few occasions when we walked to school, when I was a boy, before I changed, at least another friend usually accompanied her. As she walked up, I noticed that my mom was standing outside near the front door.

“Good morning Tanta,” Susan said, “I hope you have a good day; thanks for asking Robert to wait for me to get here”. I turned to mom, waived to her, and said, “Bye”.

As we turned and started walking to school, she looked at me very strangely. She looked me up and down, stared at my chest and I thought she also looked at my crotch. I felt very very uncomfortable. We continued to walk to school; we had not spoken with each other since we started out from my house.

“Huh, what the matter with you” I said, “stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous”.

“You had to do it didn’t you! You would not listen to me! You could not resist the urge”, she sneered at me!

“What the fuck are you talking about”, I shouted, immediately upset that I used profanity.

“You had to go trick-or-treating; with those so called friends of yours didn’t you Robyn!”

I was shocked; I started to stammer and could not say anything.

“Yes, Robert, I know you used to be Robyn, at least you were still her when I left you at your front door when we walked home from Hebrew School yesterday. And I also know that you became Robyn, after as you say ‘King Ahasuerus stretched his scepter out to you last Purim’. What I do not know is what caused you to change back. Can you explain it?”

“I don’t know why. I can’t remember everything that happened.” I started to sob, hysterically. Susan came over and gave me a big hug, and tried to calm me.

“You need to compose yourself. You need to calm down, we have to get to school”, she stated in a soothing voice; continuing she said, “I will try and keep an eye on you during school. But you cannot freak out. We’ll talk more after school. We’ll go to Bubby Elka’s. She may know how to solve this”.

I took some deep breathes, and calmed down just a little. “Susan, why didn’t I listen to you, why was I such an ass. You warned me not to go trick-or-treating. You told me that Halloween was not a holiday Jews should celebrate. That it was a either a pagan holiday or a Christian holiday. You told that if had to go, I shouldn’t go as a witch, that I should go as a princess or something, but I refused to listen. I’m such a schmuck, look what happened to me”. I started to cry again. She comforted me again.

“Calm down, please. Somehow, we will work this out; I just know it. Tell me as much as you can.”

I looked at her, saw her smile at me. I stopped walking for a second took some more deep breathes, and felt just a little better. I had this strange inkling that she was right, that somehow everything would work out. That somehow, some way, sooner or later I would be Robyn again.

“As you know that I never had the opportunity to go trick-or-treating as a girl. So I figured I would do it this year, before I got too old. I was concerned because I did not want to go myself, and had to find someone to go with. That proved to be difficult since, most of the girls I knew, thought they were too sophisticated go out in a costume this year,” I paused as we crossed the street in front of the school.

After we crossed Susan said, “Go on.”

As she said that, I stopped, and pointed to three girls gathered in front of the school talking with each other. “I went trick-or-treating with Kaitlin and Emily from our class, and with their friend Cozbi, who think is in Ms Jackson’s class.”

“I know Kaitlin and Emily, heck I’ve known Kaitlin since kindergarten. But I’ve never seen that other girl before. Cozbi is a strange name. I know I have either heard that name before or read it somewhere, but can’t recall where”, Susan said. “Are you sure she is in Ms Jackson’s class”.

At that moment, the three girls turned towards us. Kaitlin and Emily waved to us, but Cozbi just glared at me with this strange and mocking smile. I looked at her and then noticed her eyes. Her eyes were not normal. Instead, they were burning red spheres, No pupils just red spheres, like burning flames.

I immediately felt a jolt passing through my body. I felt faint. I felt nauseous. My body became rigid. I immediately knew that my nightmare had not been a dream at all, but a recollection of a real event. I almost collapsed, but luckily, Susan had seen my reaction and grabbed me before I collapsed to the ground.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter? What happened?” Susan asked.

I finally was able to compose myself somewhat, and gasped, “We need to get out of here. I am in
danger. So are you. I know how I changed.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Susan, please believe me. You have to help me get away. If I don’t get away immediately, I will be killed or worse my soul will be excised from our people”.

“Okay, let’s go, but this had better be good, or Robert, you will owe me big time”.

I was hurt that she called me Robert, but then I realized she said it to get my attention. We turned around and began to retrace our steps. As we were retreating, I turned around and noticed that Cozbi had parted from the other two girls. She headed away from them, the school, and us. She looked at me with a mocking smile, with the same burning stare. My fear and trepidation increased when I realized that Cozbi was flying.

We raced down the streets away from school. After we had gone several blocks, we stopped. We had received several stares from friends and schoolmates who saw us running in the opposite direction of school, and glares from some folks we had bumped into.

“Okay Robyn, what gives? Tell me what scared the hell out of you. What do you mean you’re in danger?” Susan asked. “You also might as well tell me how you changed while you are at it”.

“I promise that I will tell you everything, but we need to get someplace safe. I need to tell the story to someone who will know how to help”.

I guess we were both thinking of where to go and who would be able to help us, because we both simultaneously screamed out, “Bubby Elka will know what to do”!

We immediately headed toward Bubby’s house. Luckily, we all lived in the same neighborhood, so the walk to her house took less than 15 minutes. We were knocking in fact pounding on her door at just after 9:00 AM.

We heard Bubby coming to the door. Through the closed door, we heard her ask who was there. Her voice was cautious, as if she was apprehensive about who was pounding on her door, at such an early hour. We answered in unison, “It’s me Bubby, It’s Robyn”. Susan added, “and me, Susan.”

The door flew open, and Bubby looked out concern in her eyes. Of course the first words out of her mouth were, “Rachel, uh Raphael, what is wrong”. I started to cry. Bubby pulled me close to her and gave me one of her trademarked hugs. The one that enveloped you and made you know everything would be okay. “Maidalla it will be all right, stop crying. Let me know what’s wrong.”

Of course there were some kisses on my keppie with the hugs. I did not notice her looking over my head to my cousin with a look that was asking her what was wrong. I finally broke the hug, and stepped aside as bubby hugged and kissed Susan.

Bubby said, “Come children, let’s sit in the kitchen, I will get some mandlebread and my special iced tea and we can talk”.

We sat at her kitchen table, bubby brought us the cookies, and the tea and we sat for a few minutes before anyone said anything. The first to talk was bubby.

“What is the matter darling. What happened? Something strange must have occurred to cause you to change back to Raphael.”

While we were walking over to Bubby’s and while sitting at her table, I was able to think about what had occurred to me since 5:00 PM the day before. I was able to recall what had occurred and what had happened to me, what had caused me to change back to Robert. It was scary and horrible, but I knew that I could tell, had to talk about what happened. I took a deep breath and began my tale.

“Bubby, please forgive me, I know I should not have done this, but I went trick-or-treating yesterday. I guess that’s the reason all of this happened.” While glancing at Susan I continued. “Susan argued with me, told me not to go. I drove mom and dad crazy before they agreed, but I got them to do so”. As I was saying this tears came to my eyes.

Bubby who was sitting opposite from me, motioned for me to join her on the couch, held my hand and calmed me by saying, “Maidalla, it will be okay, there’s nothing to forgive, you’re my girl and I love you. Please continue”. She then kissed me, as she used to do when I was a baby. I also realized that she called me Maidalla, which meant she still thought of me as a girl.

“Once I got permission to go trick-or-treating, I had to find someone to go with and what costume to wear. I asked around class, and found two girls, two nice girls, bubby, who I could go with.” I turned to Susan, and said, “Susan, tell bubby, about Kaitlin and Emily.”

“I know both girls, and they are ok”, replied Susan with a shrug.

“We talked about what we would do, and what costumes to wear. I decided that I wanted to go as something very girly. So I decided to go as a Princess”. I gave a sort of shy smile, and continued, “I know it sounds silly for a 12 year old to go as a Princess, but, but you know now that I am a girl”, I hesitated, “I guess was a girl, I wanted to dress the most girly as possible”.

“The next day, Kaitlin and Emily, told me that the plans had changed, and that another girl would be joining us. They introduced me to this girl, who was from one of the other classes. I did not know her, but that did not bother me. The three of them told me, that we should all go as witches. Even though I did not want to go as a witch, as a Macher-Schaefer, I did not say anything. I did not want to get into a fight with them, I really wanted to go trick-or-treating with them”, I said.

“This new girl has a really strange name, bubby,” said Susan. “I never heard a girl with a name like that. Maybe you know what kind of name it is,” she added. “Robert, excuse me, I mean Robyn, told me her name was Cozbi”.

Bubby let out a gasp, and her face turned ashen. “Are you sure, positive that that is her name? Are you positive? Please think it is quite important!”

“Yes, that is her name. She is evil. I don’t think she is a real girl, at all. I think she is a real witch or maybe some kind of monster,” I cried.

Bubby, who had seemed to have lost her composure, took a deep breath, sighed, looked at me and then Susan and began, “I guess at 12 years old, you may not have studied this in Hebrew School, or paid much attention in Shul, but Cozbi, is an evil, evil woman who is discussed in the Torah. She was a Midianite woman. She and her family worshiped an idol named Baal-Peor. After Balak, the prophet, you know the guy with the talking donkey, failed in his attempt to curse the Jewish people in the Sinai desert, the enemies of our people tried to harm them, by getting them involved in worshiping this idol.” She paused and then continued,

“I guess you’re both old enough to hear this. The evil Midianites did this by using their daughters to try to get the leaders of Israel to reject Ha’Shem, through illicit sexual relations. Cozbi was the King’s daughter, but still participated in this evil. She tried to seduce Moshe, but he resisted her attempts. She succeeded in her efforts with Zimri, the leader of the Tribe of Simeon.”

A terrible plague broke out among the Israelites. The plague ended when Pinchas killed both Cozbi and Zimri by sticking a spear through both of them. So if you saw Cozbi, you were seeing a ghost.”

“Bubby, I definitely saw her, and talked with her. She convinced me to dress as a witch. Now that I recall she seemed to hypnotize me and I had no ability to think clearly”. I turned to my cousin, “Susan, I should have listened to you. You warned me about doing this Halloween Narishkeit. You were even more explicit, I think you called me a moron, when I told you that I was going to dress a witch. Next time I don’t listen give me a kick in the ass.”

“So child tell us what happened next”, bubby said.

“We met at Caitlin’s house at about 6:30 and started Trick-or-Treating. We were all dressed as witches. We, Caitlin, Emily, and I were dressed as Macbeth’s three witches and Cozbi was dressed as the queen of the witches. We must have been out for about an hour, our bags were full and we were starting to get a little tired, but mostly bored with what we were doing. So we turned and headed back. We were just passing Jezebel Street, when Cozbi, pointed to this big black house and said we should make that our final stop, before going home.”

Both Susan and bubby stopped me by talking almost together. Bubby shushed my cousin, and asked, “Where is this Jezebel Street? I’ve lived in this town since I was younger then both of you, and there is no Jezebel street. I also do not know of any black houses around here.”

I looked at her and said, “Well that was the name on the street sign. But your right I do not remember a street by that name, either.”

She told me to continue my story, so I did.

“We all agreed to what Cozbi wanted and walked to the door. We knocked on the door, and that is when everything got very strange and scary. The door opened, and there was a flash of very bright light. After the flash, I was disoriented and blinded for a moment. When I came back to my senses, I noticed several things, several terrifying things. First, Kaitlin and Emily seemed to be frozen in time and not moving. The women who had answered the door had taken on the shape of what I could only describe as the witch Maleficent from ‘Disney’s Sleeping Beauty.’ Cozbi also changed. I cannot really describe her transformation, but as best as I can she was looked like ‘Gollum’”.

“The witch moved her hands and chanted something. I quickly came under some sort of spell. I had little or no will power. She started to communicate with me. I am not sure if she spoke, or did so telepathically.”

What I heard or sensed her to say was, “We have finally found you. We cannot let you survive. You are a danger to the old religions. The priests or priestesses of Baal, Astarte, and Molech condemn you to death. Your only salvation is to accept one of these idols to worship.”

I began crying and moaning. My body began to float as I followed the witch down a dark hallway. The creature that was Cozbi scampered after us. In a moment, we entered a strange room. It appeared that to one side of the passage we entered through, was a raised platform. Spaced equally around the rest of the room were three curtains.

I floated to a position in front of the raised platform, and then dropped to the ground. I bumped the ground with a thud. The witch then raised me to my feet. She stood to one side of me; the creature was on the other side. The witch commanded me to watch, listen, and learn my fate.

Majestic music began to play, and I saw three people dressed in ancient royal garb approach the raised platform. Some sort of light illuminated the platform and I beheld a throne. As I watched, one man sat on the throne, another man stood next to him and the third person, a woman approached me and stood behind me.

As soon as the women stood behind me, my witch costume changed into what I knew to be Queen’s Esther clothing.

The women whispered into my ear. “Usurper, you tried to gain my throne. Because of you, I was deposed. You took my place next to my beloved husband. But you will not win. I will prevail. Marduck and Ishtar have come to my assistance. They have rescued me, and your evil plot against my husband and dear Haman, will not succeed. Watch what occurs when you try to approach my husband’s throne.”

What I then saw before me was a scene from the Megilah. Queen Esther approached the King, hoping and praying that he would stretch his scepter out to her. In the Megilah, that is what happened. But that was not occurring now. As Esther approached, the King looked to the person standing next to him, the light then illuminated that person, and it was Haman. They both began to laugh. The scepter was not extended. The royal guards ran into the room, seized Esther, and dragged her from the room. At that moment I began to feel my body tingle, and the next I knew, I was no longer Robyn. I was again Robert. I blacked out.

When I awoke, the King, Haman, Vashti, and the throne room had disappeared. I was now dressed in a Dracula costume and was standing in front of one curtain, with the others to my right and left. The witch and the creature were still on either side of me.

The witch simply said, “Boy, watch and choose. Choose whom to serve and live, or reject all and die.”

The curtain to the right, opened, and I saw before a strange tableau. There was a path leading to what seemed to be a raised hollowed out metal slab. On either side of the path, there was a trench. Standing by the slab, was a man in a goat’s costume holding a torch, and a man and a woman holding a young child, a 3 or 4-year-old boy. The couple with their child approached the beginning of the path and halted.

The goat man, in a shrill voice intoned, “Approach the alter of Molech. Pass your child through Molech’s fire.” The parents responded, “We will bring our son to Molech’s fire”. The goat man then took his torch and touched the trench, which burst into flames. The flames surrounded the pathway as well as the metal slab. The man and the woman, holding the child’s hands led him down the pathway, with the flames leaping up almost reaching the child. The parents’ had a glazed drunken look about them. The child screamed hysterically. The goat man had a gleam in his eyes with a demented smile on his face.

The parents then reached the metal slab. The father lifted the child. He waited as the mother hugged and kissed the child. She whispered something to her son, but I could not hear what she said.

Then the father kissed the child. He turned and handed the child over to the goat man. As the parents fled back down the path, the goat man raised the child over his head. Over the crackling of the flames, the screams of the parent’s and the cries of the toddler, I heard the goat man intone, “The fires of Molech await you. You shall pass through Molech’s fire.” He then brought the child down and placed him on the slab. He then screamed, “The fires of Molech accept you and consume you”. At that moment, a burst of flame consumed the child. I screamed, vomited and fainted.

The next I knew, I was inhaling a foul smelling concoction that woke be. I noticed the creature passing a vial under my nose. I sat up and began retching. I must have vomited up my guts previously as nothing came out this time.

The witch turned to me and intoned in her evil voice, “Do you wish to serve Molech or should I reveal to you other paths”. With what strength I had left, I glared at her and shook my head. She then said, “If Molech does not appeal to you then other paths remain open to you.” The curtain to the left opened, and she continued, “Behold the glories of Baal.”

The creature left my side and climbed upon a metal bull, which occupied the center of the stage. The creature began to howl. A pounding of drums and a blare of horns surrounded me. A group of six men all dressed as bulls entered from one side and began to dance clockwise around the metal bull. Following them a few moments later, six women dressed as cows entered from the other side and began dancing counter clockwise. As they did so, another man and woman jumped on top of the bull and kicked the creature to the ground.

The drums continued to pound, and the horns blared louder and louder. The tempo of the music increased. The dancing became frenetic. The dancers starting screaming a chant, “Baal, Baal, Baal. Baal is great. The seed of Baal is the seed of life”. They repeated that chant again and again, as the dancers resembled Whirling Dervishes. The next I knew the man and woman on top of the bull shed their clothing. Those below had stopped their circling and after pairing up, also shed their clothes.

The music and dancing had hypnotized me, but at the last moment, I was able to regain my wits and turned away from the horrendous happenings. I did not want to look at the orgy that was occurring before be. The witch grabbed my head and tried to force me to watch. I don’t know how, but I resisted her efforts. I glanced back and the curtain had closed on the immoral activity.

In a similar manner as she had done before, the witch turned to me and intoned in her evil voice, “Do you wish to serve Baal-Peor or should I reveal to you other paths”. This time, with strength that I did not know that I possessed, I looked her in the eye, and said, “HELL NO!” She started to laugh, and said, “If Baal does not appeal to you then you may save yourself by taking the only path that is still available to you. Accept Astarte and live. Accept none and you shall roast in the fires of Geheena”.

The center curtain opened. What I beheld was nothing like the previous apparitions. I saw a beautiful garden. There was a bubbling brook running through the garden. The garden contained flowers of every type and color imaginable. There were fruit trees, loaded with the most delicious looking fruit one could imagine. In the center of the garden was one particularly large and magnificent tree, loaded with a golden looking fruit. Music played in the background. The symphony was soothing. Nothing composed by the greatest composers that ever lived could compare with it.

Seven identical sisters inhabited the garden. They were beautiful, and they beckoned to me. Though I knew in my heart, that it was wrong to do so, I wanted to join them.

As I approached the stage, I heard the witch, saying, “Yes child, join the sisters, and accept the beauty of Astarte. Join us and live.” I wanted to stop. But I was unable to do so. I climbed onto the stage and was helped up by two of the sisters who held their hands out to me. Hand in hand, the two of them led me towards the center of the garden and the singular tree.

One of the sisters said, “I am Lilith, and I serve Astarte. Eat of the fruit of Astarte’s tree and gain immortality.” She smiled at me; I nodded and walked towards, the asherah that stood next to the tree. The smell of the fruit was intoxicating. Lilith reached up, and picked a large piece of fruit from the tree. She handed it to me, and I raised it to my mouth. Just as I was about to bite into the fruit and go to my doom, I saw a snake, coiling itself around the asherah, in a similar fashion to the snake one would see on a caduceus.

My fear of snakes, saved me. I dropped the fruit, and fell to the ground. As I did so, my shirt caught on a branch of a bush, and tore off me. The seven sisters, the witch and the creature who had returned all turned and looked at me. I noticed their eyes go to my exposed chest, and they all stared at the chain and the Chai that hung from my neck. Instantaneously, there was death-curdling screams emanating from everyone in the room. The legation of evil beings from the other stages and the throne room came running in to see what was occurring. They stared at me, saw the Chai and the commotion grew greater and greater. The ground shook, and everything went black.

“Somehow, I returned home. I don’t remember if I was Robert or Robyn. I showered and went to bed about 11:00 P.M. The next I know, my screaming Nooooooooooooooooo awakened me. You know the rest.”

I stopped my tale, and looked at Bubby and Susan and said, “Now you know everything. I cannot explain what happened, and would have dismissed it all. Except, I am now Robert, and Cozbi was at school today. I guess I am lucky to be alive, and have my sole. I guess it could be worse. I now understood that Pesach song Dayenu.

Everyone was silent for what seemed liked minutes.

Bubby then asked, “Darling, obviously this was not a dream. Something real and dangerous happened to you. Your Chai, which means life, saved you by popping out at the final moment. It would appear that this symbol of life threatens these evil creatures.”

“If this Cozbi is still around then you are not safe. Possibly the world is in danger as. We must do something now. I have an idea; I will be back in a moment”.

Bubby got up, and walked out of the room. I stared at Susan and she looked at me. I started trembling. Susan got up, joined me, hugged me, and told me, “Robyn, everything will be alright. I’m sure Bubby has an idea of what to do. I am sure she’s working on that now, and you know if Bubby takes on a project, she always succeeds.”

At that moment, she returned to the room. “Girls, I have called your parents, and told them, that you were both with me.” We both groaned, but she shushed us. “I am sure that the way you ran from school someone must have told your teacher that something was wrong. In fact, that is what happened. The school called both of your homes, just a few minutes ago. Luckily, I caught them before they got panicked and called the police. I said everything was okay and that I would explain what occurred when I returned you home later. Of course Robyn, your mom was asking about Robert as was your Aunt Dottie.”

We both nodded our understanding.

She continued, “Children, get your coats, we are going to see Rabbi Lowe. I just spoke with him. He needs to know about what happened. Rabbi Lowe will certainly know a way to handle this matter.”

Susan and I knew better then to argue with Bubby we got our coats on, and went out to her car. In a few minutes, we got to the Shul and Rabbi Lowe was outside the Synagogue waiting for us. He looked quite concerned. We all exited the car, but I was quite apprehensive. What would the Rabbi think when he heard my story. Would he think I was crazy, and tell Bubby to have me committed.

Rabbi Lowe greeted us and led us into his study. He seated us, asked if we wanted anything to drink. After we all refused, he closed the door and took his seat, behind his desk.

He turned to me, and I almost fainted, as he said, “Rachel Hadassah, it seems that you have been through a strange adventure last night”. I started to sputter and tried to say something. He waived me off and continued. “I know that beneath that old shell is the real you. I know what happened on Purim. I felt something happened when I chanted the Megilah, but did not know what until the next day when, Rachel Hadassah came to the Purim carnival and, Raphael was nowhere to be found.”

“I did not know you were involved, but last night I felt something evil was occurring. As they said in those Star War movies, ‘I felt a tremor in the Force’. Now Rachel Hadassah, tell me what happened.”

Even though it tired me out, I retold the tale from the beginning. As I was telling the story, the Rabbi was playing with his beard and twisting his peiyess. He kept saying okay and uh huh.
He was in deep contemplation. When I finished he looked very disturbed. He got up walked to his bookcase and got a large tome off the shelf, and brought it to his desk.

“Girls, I know your grandma probably knows most of this, and I hope you have learned some of this in Hebrew school and through stories that may have been read to you as children. As you know, my name is Rabbi Lowe. My first name is Yehudah or Judah, and I am the 10th person in my family to carry that name. I am named after my multi great grand grandfather, who lived in Prague, Czechoslovakia, from 1525-1609 CE. He was known as the Maharal of Prague and was a famous Rabbi. He was well known for his writings, both religious and secular. But in common lore he is most well known for making the Golem, a man like being made out of clay.

Susan said, “Of course we know about the Golem, in fact, I have a story book about him at home.”

Rabbi Lowe continued, “My grandfather as the story goes, built the Golem to protect the Jewish community of his city. He activated the Golem by placing an amulet with Ha’Shem’s real name around its neck. When the amulet was removed, the Golem ceased to function.”

“Most people think the story a myth. Other’s think Mary Shelly had heard the story, and in part based Frankenstein on my grandfather’s companion. I do not know about Ms Shelly, but those who think the Golem is not real are sadly mistaken.”

As he said, this Susan and I stared at him incredulously.

“I think your ‘Disturbance in the Force’ calls for drastic measures. I think the Golem can help us.”

He beckoned us to follow him, and he led us into the Shul’s basement. He unlocked several doors, and led us into a darkened room. As he switched on the light, we saw a 7-foot tall creature, which had human features, but apparently was not alive. It was inanimate.

“Mrs. Solomon, Sarah Adina, Rachel Hadassah, this is the Golem. It is the same Golem that my grandfather made and he has been passed through the generations from father to son. I now have possession of it. I also have possession of my grandfather’s writings. So I know how to activate the Golem.”

“Those books were unfortunately lost for over 100 years, from 1850 through 1952. I do not know if the Golem could have helped, but my great-grandfather, of blessed memory was unable to activate him during the Shoah. However, few people know it, but my friend here and I spent the summer of 1967 in Jerusalem. Though I wished to take him to the Kotel after it was liberated, I thought better of it.”

Bubby, Susan, and I walked over to the creature and touched him. He felt like a lump of clay. While we were doing this, the Rabbi was writing something in Hebrew with a quill on pieces of parchment. The Rabbi completed two documents. As he finished he said,

“This piece of parchment contains instructions for what I want the Golem to do. I am instructing him to enter the mansion in which you were imprisoned and to destroy all witches, ghosts, necromancers, sorcerers, and idolaters in the building along with their idols and alters. I will place that document in the Golem’s mouth. The next parchment contains the complete name of Ha’Shem, as pronounced by the Cohen Gadol on Yom Kippur in the Holy of Holies. I will place it in this amulet and then place that around the Golem’s neck. Once I do so, the Golem will become alive and will follow my commands.”

The Rabbi then placed the first parchment in the Golem’s mouth. He placed the parchment into the amulet, and placed the amulet around its neck.

Miraculously the creature began to stir. It bowed to the Rabbi and stared at him. The Rabbi spoke to the Golem in Hebrew. He then said to us, “Mrs. Solomon, take your grandchildren and follow my car. I need Rachel Hadassah to point out the house where this all occurred so that there will be no mistake. You should not be frightened, because the Golem can do you no harm. He can only vanquish the enemies of Ha’Shem and the Jews.”

I gave him directions to where to go and we followed his car. The Golem entered the Rabbi’s van and had to lie down in the back seat or he would not have fit. We finally arrived and parked across the street from the mysterious house. The Rabbi walked over to our vehicle and asked us to get out. He and I talked and I confirmed that this was the mansion in question.

The Rabbi began to concentrate. He nodded several times, and the confirmed that this in deed was the house in question. The Rabbi said, “This house contains the essence of the Evil Inclination, the Yeitzer Hara. It must be destroyed.”

Rabbi Lowe, spoke to the Golem in Hebrew, and led him to the path leading to the front door of the house. The Golem ambled down the path and reached the front door. The next I knew there was a great commotion as the Golem ripped off the door and entered the building. Instantaneously the building seemed to implode and disappear. In all the commotion, I must have fainted.

I awoke later that night in my bed. I was trembling. I looked at the clock, it read Monday, November 1, 2010, 12:00:00 A.M. Exactly Midnight. I pulled the covers off me, and walked to the bathroom. The door was open. I walked in, and stood next to the toilet to pee. I began to reach down to grab my penis and do my business when I realized I was wearing a nightie, and before I could do anything, I needed to pull down my panties and sit. As I sat I glanced down, my boobs had returned. There was nothing for me to grab while urinating. I finished my business, washed up, and returned to bed. Before going to sleep I whisper a prayed of thanksgiving. While I was trying to be silent, Robert's voice did not utter the prayer. It was definitely Robyn. Another miracle had happened at Midnight.

You can bet all the money in the world that I will never go Trick-or-Treating again. Enough of that silly nonsense for me.

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I can't think of anything more horrifying

Andrea Lena's picture

...than going back to what I used to be. For Robyn, it was more than just horrifying, and it's good to seen that even Halloween has it's miracles. Thank you, dear friend for this tale!



Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Esther in a modern context

Puddintane's picture

This is the second of two stories which draw on the Megillah, the Book of Esther, which seems perfectly appropriate for this purpose.

The Book of Esther is an anomaly in the midst of a vast desert almost devoid of women, who are trotted on stage for a moment and then put back in the closet as soon as they become inconvenient. So we see Jael when she drives a tent stake through the head of an enemy, but then she disappears. We see Miriam only briefly, but all the good stories are relegated to Midrash, oral history, where we find out about her miraculous Well, which followed her around and enabled the wandering Jewish people to survive in the desert, and others of her miracles, including her role in preserving the life of Moses to begin with. When Miriam died, her Well disappeared, and there you go.

The Megillah is the only book in which women play the central role, two heroines who separately confront two villains.

The first heroine is Vashti, the Queen, whose husband, the first villain, decides to throw a little party for his pals, while Queen Vashti has a separate — and much more dignified — party for her women friends, women of quality and refinement, many of them queens and noblewomen in their own right. The King, of course, gets drunk, and decides to order his wife do a little hoochie coochie dance for his male guests, all in good fun.“Show us your tits, baby!” Although it’s not mentioned in the actual text, the Rabbis ’drash the text, which says that Vashti was ordered to appear wearing her regal diadem, by reasoning that, if the people who’d set the story down had meant that Vashti could wear anything else besides the jewellery, it would have been mentioned, so Vashti was ordered to appear naked before the King and his guests. QED (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, a surprisingly humane inference, despite the text, which is not nearly so understanding)

Vashti refuses, the first feminist act of defiance to arbitrary male cruelty and oppression to be recorded in history.

The King, of course, is outraged and horrified. “What will the guys say?” so of course he asks, the nebbish. The men all agree that Vashti must be stripped of her honours and cast aside, lest all the women of the country be encouraged to defy the “natural” authority of men (Have you noticed how astonishingly prescient this ancient text is? not to mention sexist.)

Here’s the pertinent text, in case you don’t trust the scintillating and concise ’drash of yours truly:

16
And Memucan answered before the king and the princes: “Vashti the queen hath not done wrong to the king only, but also to all the princes, and to all the peoples, that are in all the provinces of the king Ahasuerus.
17
For this deed of the queen will come abroad unto all women, to make their husbands contemptible in their eyes, when it will be said: The king Ahasuerus commanded Vashti the queen to be brought in before him, but she came not.
18
And this day will the princesses of Persia and Media who have heard of the deed of the queen say the like unto all the king’s princes. So will there arise enough contempt and wrath.
19
If it please the king, let there go forth a royal commandment from him, and let it be written among the laws of the Persians and the Medes, that it be not altered, that Vashti come no more before king Ahasuerus, and that the king give her royal estate unto another that is better than she.
20
And when the king’s decree which he shall make shall be published throughout all his kingdom, great though it be, all the wives will give to their husbands honour, both to great and small.”

In other words, “Take that, bitch, and there’s plenty more where that came from.”

The Rabbis who set down the story are almost equally horrified, and vie with each other (as did the advisors of the King) to devise fitting punishments for the wicked Queen who dared to defy male authority, no matter how cruel or abusive.

Interestingly, one of the top favourites among many punishments imagined in the Talmud is that God affixes a “tail” on her, by which they understood a penis — although leprosy runs a close second, since the Prophetess Miriam was punished with leprosy for being uppity toward Moses — so we can also imagine Vashti as the first transsexual to enter history, who is promptly turned out into the desert, where she vanishes into the normal obscurity reserved for women in the Bible, although there’s a lovely poem, re-imagined and re-created, Vashti Records Her Life in Exile by Carol Barrett, which records her life in the wilderness, still proud and independent, but admired by all the women of the court, who know that she took one for the side, and secretly aid her with gifts of food and items of value.

The poem, unfortunately, doesn’t address the question of whether Vashti, like the protagonist of this story, still has the penis that was inflicted upon her as punishment, but perhaps this was only a nightmare in which the men imagine ‘ladyboys’ where none exist in reality. Certainly Barret’s conjuration of the past makes no such inference.

The King, however, wakes up with a terrible headache and a hangover, and wonders for a minute where his lovely wife might be to comfort him. But she’s gone, tossed out, bag and baggage, and all the guys tell him that he can’t ask her to come back, no matter how much he regrets his drunken tantrum, because all the guys will laugh at him, and Royal Decrees can never be undone, which was the very first Reluctant Genie story.

So the unfortunate King, who is in fact powerless in this story, because every time he makes a wish it turns out badly, needs a new Queen, but of course it would be ignoble of him to go to the trouble of looking, much less asking, so he makes another stupid decree, and sends a bunch of men out to gather up all the most beautiful women they can find, kidnap them, and throw them into beauty prison. While they’re in jail, they’re subject to all the rules these stupid men can think up, and naturally they aren’t very creative. Their best idea is to oil them up, since every man knows that oily women are *hot*. “How long?” they ask. Better make it six months. Then a particularly inventive moron says, “What about perfume?” That’s *hot* too, so better give them all six month’s worth of perfuming. All the men agree on this, a year in prison for being beautiful seems only fair.

The truly interesting thing about the Book of Esther, though, is the extent to which women are objectified by men, twits one and all, who are completely unconscious of the fact that women are uniformly diminished and commodified in the story, and all the men are made to look like fools without once realising it, and yet the truth shines through, as clear and bright as daylight after coming out of a cave after a year in darkness.

Here, for example, is the text from the Book of Esther which describes the regimen the women were subjected to in the King’s beauty prison before they were allowed to enter into his august presence:

...for so were fulfilled the days of their annointing: six months with oil of myrrh and six months with sweet fragrances... (c. 478 BCE)

Yet in Genesis, when Jacob dies, this is how the treatment of his corpse was described, oh so many long years before:

“...for so are fulfilled the days of those who are embalmed...” (c. 1684 BCE)

Such an amazing parallelism there! Can we see it?

A: If female, the correct answer is yes.
B: If male, the correct answer is usually no.

If only the refrigerator magnet had been invented by then, the whole course of history might have been changed, since someone could have written a note to remind ourselves to treat dead bodies and living women differently.

As it turns out, Esther, who is the twin sister of Vashti, at least in spirit, was one of those rounded up by the King’s kidnappers and trafficked into sexual slavery. Eventually, she’s let out on parole, so she can take her turn being in raped by the King in a sort of wicked lottery. If she manages to pretend to like it, and convinces the King that he’s the bee’s knees and the cat’s pyjamas in the sack by saying the secret word*, a magic duck falls down from the ceiling with a hundred dollars and she’s Queen for a Day!

As it happens, the secret word was “No, thank you,” because they had a little trick arranged. After the dirty deed was done, they asked the victim if she’d like something to compensate her for her trouble, since she wasn’t a virgin anymore, and thus the loser in the ancient marriage market. Most of the young girls thought this was fairly reasonable, in the context of the times, and would give them some small measure of independence, so named whatever came to mind, which was duly supplied, the King being no piker, and they were sent off to the stable of the King’s official prostitutes, the King having “blessed” them with his sacred “sceptre”, which meant that no lesser sceptre could ever touch them.

When Esther’s turn came, and the question was put to her, she said, “No, thank you,” and the duck dropped down from the ceiling. She’s now the Queen.

Esther has an uncle Mordecai, the second villain in the story, who’s raised her for some reason, her parents having succumbed to some ancient disease or another. Before antibiotics, and modern antisepsis, this was astonishingly easy to arrange, so there were lots of orphans floating around. In his own charming way, he’s just as much a putz as the rest of the men in the story, so naturally he thinks that he’s now her pimp, and can use the fact that Esther’s the new Queen to his own advantage, and starts giving her contemptuous orders, just like the King did poor old Vashti, except that his orders involve more than a striptease before the assembled men, but rather essential suicide.

Just like Vashti did the King, Esther tells Mordecai to go fuck himself, and keeps her own council, ignoring his, which doesn’t seem to involve being screwed by the King and, like all the men’s plans in the Book of Esther, was incredibly stupid.

Now as it happens, Esther was Jewish, although she didn’t go around blabbing about it, this being in the times of the Babylonian Exile, when many of the Jews felt sorry for themselves — although they’d just been given permission to go back to Israel and re-build the Temple by the Persians (Iranians), who’d cleverly conquered the Babylonians (Iraqis) — and a lot of people hated them. One of the King’s counsellors — a ringleader of the same pack of fools who made the hapless King get rid of Vashti, the woman he loved, or was at least very fond of, was one Haman, had put in place a plot to execute a little pogrom, and thereby elevate his own importance in the Kingdom, a sort of early Beer Hall Putsch and Kristallnacht combined.

Since this would necessarily involve another decree put forth by the King, which we already know will always turn out badly, poor Haman is doomed, just as all those hapless magic lamp rubbers are doomed in the genie stories.

And so it comes to pass. Esther cleverly enlists the help of the women around her — as does Robyn in the story — unlike Vashti, who’d finally stood alone against the King’s abusive wrath, and adopts just the right tone with him to flatter his ego, and impel him toward largesse. Quelle surprise!

Mordecai, of course, turns out to have been just as bloodthirsty and cruel as Haman, and uses Esther’s power to murder Haman, all his sons, and many of his supporters. Same old story, different players.

-----------

* http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3d8VXGaGA6o

When, though, I wonder, will women finally create a morally defensible re-write of these chapters? Why aren’t we insisting that our synagogue communities cheer and stomp their feet at the mention of Vashti’s name? She is a foremother in the best sense of the word – assertive, appropriate, courageous (Susan Schnur)

…the Purim flag offers us an opportunity to do more than balance our attention to men’s names with attention to women’s names; it does more than allow us an opportunity for some feminist fun. When we wave our flags at the mention of Vashti and Esther’s names we begin to shift the focus of Purim. No longer do we need to accept that the opposition of “blessed Mordecai” and “cursed Haman” encompasses the story of Purim or the story of Jewish experience. By focusing on Vashti and Esther, as well as Haman and Mordecai, we open up the possibility of telling a more complete and complex Purim story, a story that includes the experiences of women and a story that honors the possibility of potential alliances between Jews and non-Jews. (Tamera Cohen)

Vashti Records Her Life in Exile an excerpt from her dissertation, The Unauthorized Book of Esther: New Poems & Commentary on Revisionist Biblical Literature.

-

Cheers,

Puddin'

A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style

Thank you for the history lesson!

History has always fascinated me, especially when it comes to G_d and (wo)man. And thank you Rami for such a wonderfully delicious tale. I hope Robert/Robyn is going to make appearances throughout the year as well.


Blissful Memories Belle

Robyn Esther Mazel

Must admit that a Hebrew style Horror story is quite differnt, but a fun read.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

A Hebrew style horror story

WillowD's picture

I don't like horror stories but this one had me riveted until I finished reading it. Thank you.

Interesting story and

Interesting story and definitly something else...

Thank you for writing,

Beyogi

Robyn Esther Mazel

Had quite a fright! Glad her nightmare is over.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine