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| Herman
circles me a few times, glancing at my naked body from different
angles. He then drags his sculpture stand to my right. The squeaking
sound of the stand’s rusty wheels penetrates my body and
sends an electric wave from my feet upward that stops at the arch
in my neck. Herman mumbles to himself “ ... finished establishing
the figure... now I’ll work on her Malkuth, Hod, Netsah and
Yesod.” He mumbles some more words I cannot understand. A
minute later I hear his hands begin to work. “Today, I will
keep my eyes open” I think. With my head in my lap, I speak
loudly so he can hear me: “So, I thought about what you said
last week, about me having a Jewish soul. And after thinking about
it, I now know for sure that you were wrong.” I hear no break in his work. His hands continue to hit the clay at a steady pace. I wonder why he is not responding. Is it because he is too absorbed in his work to hear my words? Is it because he is waiting for me to elaborate? I continue: “You see, before I do something, I don’t think about God. Not about a Jewish God or any other God. I think only about the results of my action. And sometimes I choose to do things that I know are wrong. This means that I really don’t believe he exists.” I hear him clear his throat from a deep place. “My child, are you saying that because you don’t always do the right thing, you are not Jewish?” With my head motionless between my legs, I feel his words hitting the back of my neck. “He is twisting my words” I think. “I have thought out this logic several times over the past week and it made complete sense. Now this man is trying to confuse my thinking.” |
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