Very softly, Reb Jeshaia asked me, “Evsise, how long ago did the Archdruid say he changed Kadak into this thing?”
“Ten years ago,” I said, “but what—”
And I stopped. And I sat down again. And knew we had lost, and we would still be there when the gonifs came to rip the planet out of orbit, and we would die, along with the crazies in the Apostate Cathedral and the nafkeh, and the Rock and the Archdruid and everyone else who was too nuts to get safely away the way they were supposed to.
“What’s the matter?” asked Meyer Kahaha, the oysvorf “What’s wrong? Why does it matter he’s been a butterfly for ten years?”
“Only ten years,” said Shmuel.
“Not thirteen, schmuck, only ten,” said Yankel, sticking his pointing arm in Meyer Kahaha’s ninth eye.
We looked at Meyer Kahaha till the light dawned, even for him. “Oh my God,” he said, and rolled over on his side. The butterfly, that miserable Kadak, fluttered up and flew around the shoul. No one paid any attention to him. It had all been in vain.
Scripture says, very clearly there should be no mistake, that all ten of the participants of a minyan have to be over thirteen years old. At thirteen, for a Jew, a boy becomes a man. “Today I am a man,” it’s an old gag. Ha ha. Very funny. It’s the reason for the bar mitzvah. Thirteen. Not ten.
Kadak wasn’t old enough.
Still dead, still lying on his face, Snodle began weeping.
Reb Jeshaia and the other seven, the last blue Jews on Zsouchmuhn, now doomed to die without ever again gumming their lust-nest concubines, they all slumped into seats and waited for destruction.
I felt worse than them. I hurt in more places.
Then I looked up, and began to smile. I smiled so wide and so loud, everyone turned to look at me.
“He’s gone crazy,” said Chaim.
“It’s better that way,” said Shmuel. “He won’t feel the pain.”
“Poor Evsise,” said Yitzchak.
“Dummies!” I shouted, leaping up and rolling and hopping and unwinding like a tummeler. “Dummies! Dummies! Even you, Reb Jeshaia, you’re a dummy, we’re all dummies!”
“Is that a way to talk to a Rabbi?” said Reb Jeshaia.
“Sure it is,” I yowled, reeling and rocking, “sure it is, sure it is, sure it is, sure it is…”
Meyer Kahaha came and sat on me.
“Get off me, you schlemiel! I know how to save us, it’s been here all the time, we never needed that creep snuffle butterfly Kadak!”
So he got off me, and I looked at them with great pleasure because I was about to demonstrate that I was a folks-mensch of the first water, and I said, “Under a ruling in Tractate Berakhot, nine Jews and the holy ark of the law containing the Torah may, together, hey nu, nu, do you get what I’m saying, may together be considered for congregational worship!”
And Reb Jeshaia kissed me.
“Evsise, Evsise, how did you remember such a thing? You’re not a Talmudic scholar, how did you remember such a wonderful thing?” Reb Jeshaia hugged and kissed and babbled in my face at me.
“I didn’t,” I said, “Kadak did.”
And they all looked up, as I’d looked up, and there was that not-such-an-altogether-worthless-after-all Kadak, sitting up on top of the Holy Ark, the Aronha-Kodesh, the sacred cabinet holding the sacred scrolls of the Lord. Sitting up there, a butterfly, always to remain a butterfly, sitting and beating his wings frantically, trying to let someone know what he knew, something even a Rabbi had forgotten.
And when he came down to perch on Reb Jeshaia’s shoulder, we all sat down and rested for a minute, and then Reb Jeshaia said, “Now we will sit shivah. Nine men, the Holy Ark and one butterfly make a minyan.”
And for the last time on Zsouchmuhn, which means look for me, we said the holy words, this last time for the home we had had, the home we would leave. And all through the prayers, there sat Kadak, flapping his dumb wings.
And you want to know a thing? Even that was a mechaieh, which means a terrific pleasure.
Adonai—The sacred title of God. Pronounced ah-doe-NOY.
averah—Loosely, an unethical or undesirable act.
bar mitzvah—The ceremony, as in many cultures, of the beginning of puberty; held in a temple, it is the ceremony in which a thirteen-year-old Jewish boy reaches the status and assumes the duties of a “man.”
bialy(ies)—A flat breakfast roll, shaped like a round wading pool, sometimes sprinkled with onion.
bissel—A little bit.
brechh—A sound you make when varfing.
bris(es)—The circumcision ceremony.
buhbie—Usually an affectionate term of endearment, although occasionally it is used sardonically.
bummerkeh—A female bum, a loose lady. A nafkeh.
chutzpah—Gall, brazen nerve, audacity, presumption-plus-arrogance such as no other word, and no other language, can do justice to.
dreck—Shit, dung, garbage, trash, excrement, crap.
Evsise—A native of Theta 996:VI, Cluster Messier 3 in Canes Venatici. (See illustration.)
farblondjet—Lost (but really lost), mixed-up, wandering around with no idea where you are.
farchachdah—Dizzy, confused, dopey, punchy.
feh!—An exclamatory expression of disgust.
folks-mensh—This has many meanings. In the story it is intended to convey the meaning of a person who is interested in Jewish life, values, experience, and wants to carry on the tradition,
galus—An exile.
Gentile—The goyim. Non-Jews.
gevalt!—A cry of fear, astonishment, amazement.
glitch—A shady, not kosher or reputable affair.
goldeneh medina—Literally, “golden country”; originally, it meant America to Jews fleeing the European pogroms; a land of freedom, justice, and rare opportunity. Well, two out of three ain’t bad.
gonif(s)—A thief, a crook; sometimes said with affection
goniffed—to mean a clever person; a dishonest businessman; the act of stealing, as in swiping Zsouchmuhn out of its orbit,
guderim—My mother used to say, “That kid is eating out my guderim from aggravation,” which leads me to believe the word means, literally, heart, guts, liver-and-lights, stomach, everything in the middle of your body. Pronounced: guh-DARE-im.
Kaddish—A prayer glorifying God’s name. The most solemn and one of the most ancient of all Jewish prayers; the mourner’s prayer.
kayn-ahora—The phrase uttered to show that one’s praises are genuine and not contaminated by envy.
kike—A word you won’t find in this story.
kosher—As a Hebrew-Yiddish word it means only one thing: fit to eat, because ritually clean according to the dietary laws. As American slang it means authentic, the real McCoy, trustworthy, reliable, on the up-and-up, legal.
krenk—An illness. Also used to mean “nothing” in a sentence like, “He asked me for a loan of fifty bucks; a krenk I’ll give him!”
mechaieh—Pleasure, great enjoyment, a real joy. Pronounced: m’-KHY-eh, if you roll the kh like a Scotsman.
mensch—Someone of consequence, someone to emulate and admire; a terrific human being; I always pictured a mensch as someone who knew exactly how much to tip.