Kissing the Golem Read online

  Kissing the Golem

  by

  Danielle Summers

  Second Edition/Published by Tulabella Ruby Press/2015

  First Edition/Published by Dark Hollows Press/2014

  Copyright 2014 Danielle Summers/All Rights Reserved

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

  Other titles by Danielle Summers:

  Once Upon a Harem Boy (Tales of the Thasali Harem Book 0)

  The Prince's Assassin (Tales of the Thasali Harem Book 1)

  5 Easy Chocolate Pieces: A BDSM Love Story

  Editor: Cassandra Pierce

  Cover design: 3 Rusted Spoons

  Table of Contents

  Prologue/Saul Kisses the Golem

  Kissing the Golem

  About Danielle Summers

  Other Titles by Danielle Summers

  Connect with Danielle Summers

  Prologue

  Saul Kisses the Golem

  Saul got dressed for his sister’s 75th birthday sure of at least one thing. It was time to tell his nephew Jacob about his birthright. He generally avoided family events. He loved his sister, but he knew everyone called him a faygelah, Yiddish for fairy, behind his back. He knew they thought he was queer. He was far too old to care at this point. More than fifty years of being gay, and he had seen it all, and he had something he had to do.

  He saw the shadow in his vision. That shadow had been there for fifty years, just a little beyond the corner of his eye. He knew it was there but could never look at it directly. It was time to pass it on.

  Fifty years ago, his great uncle Avrum, had told him the family secret. Avrum had survived the Holocaust even with a yellow star for being Jewish. He should have had a pink triangle too for being gay, but he managed to keep that under wraps. He couldn’t have survived any other way. He also had the family birthright. Fifty years ago, he passed it onto Saul. Now, it was Saul’s turn to pass it onto Jacob.

  The family possessed a Golem, a mythical figure made of clay, dirt and/or mud imbued with life who saves Jews. Or maybe the Golem possessed them. It wasn’t always clear, but the Golem had been created by an ancestor in 17th century Poland as protection from marauders that were pillaging the region. The village was burning, and the ancestor had made this giant man of clay who chased the invaders away and carried his family through the flames to safety.

  Saul didn’t know if his forebear knew that he had created a gay Golem, but he did. And somehow this gay Golem got passed from one gay relative to another. There seemed to be at least one in every generation.

  A couple of weeks after Avrum had told Saul the fantastical tale of their family Golem that he hadn’t really believed, he was attacked. It was 1964, and Saul had been cruising in a local park. No one was gay then. There were a few homophiles, but, for the most part, that night he was looking for the love that dared not speak its name.

  That was also the night he met Roger in the dark bushes. There was something about being jumped by a gang of thugs, being saved by a giant clay man and then having sex with him that bonded them until Roger’s death five years ago. He said Kaddish, the Jewish mourning prayer, every day. This was more than required, but he needed it. He found comfort in it.

  He had never introduced Roger to his family. It was easier to stay distant than to let them near and deal with the shit. He and Roger lived in a gay neighborhood and hung out with gay people as much as possible. It was a bubble, but it was their lovely bubble.

  He barely knew his nephew Jacob, but he was pretty sure he was gay. He had a “roommate” with whom he was awfully chummy. He had a good job. He didn’t need a “roommate.” Saul knew better.

  Roger had been his roommate, too.

  Saul looked in the mirror as he straightened his tie and slicked back what was left of his hair. There was a photo of him and Roger tucked into the frame, and the Golem seemed to be inching into his vision. It was almost like he knew that the time was near for him to protect someone else.

  Saul blew a kiss into the mirror. “Soon, Golem. Soon.”

  Kissing the Golem

  Jacob Edelman stabbed at the gefilte fish on his plate sure of one thing. He really hated gefilte fish, but he knew his mother would be hurt if he didn’t eat all of it. She had made it special for Great Aunt Fanny’s 75th birthday, which they were celebrating that evening. There were two dozen relatives gathered around trying to get the gefilte fish down without triggering some kind of drama. He sliced off pieces of the fishy ball, and he tried his best to eat it with a smile. It wasn’t enough.

  “You know, I worked on that all day,” his mother said to those gathered and thumped her chest. “Most people don’t make gefilte fish from scratch, but I do.” Then she really turned up the guilt and looked at Jacob. “You’re not eating the carrots. What, you don’t like the carrots?”

  His father cut in. “Sophie! Will you leave him alone! He’s trying to eat.”

  Jacob sighed. When it came to food, he could never make his mother happy. If he ate one thing that she had slaved over for hours, it was because he didn’t like the other thing that she had slaved over for hours. Saying he didn’t like something was never an option. He had to like everything and give it all equal time or else misery ensued.

  Marcus Hampton, Jacob’s boyfriend, sat next to him, head down. Jacob could tell that Marcus was stifling a giggle. His lips were pinched tightly. He shifted his fork around the plate like he didn’t know what to do with it, but at least he had eaten some carrots.

  “You see, Jacob? Marcus is eating the carrots. You should eat carrots like Marcus,” Sophie said. “Follow the example of your roommate.”

  At the sound of the word roommate, Marcus’ foot came down on Jacob’s. He tried not to shout out, but, man, that hurt. They fought over that word. Actually, it was what they had been fighting about just before they had entered his parents’ house to celebrate Great Aunt Fanny’s 75th birthday. Jacob loved Marcus. He had a beautiful heart and a beautiful body. He could stare into his deep brown eyes for hours. Jacob loved Marcus’ family, but, while he was sure about disliking gefilte fish, every day he was less sure about the viability of their relationship.

  Marcus’ parents accepted Jacob like the Jewish son they never knew they wanted. They weren’t Jewish. They, along with Marcus, were African-American and Christian. Jacob even took them to the gay synagogue for services one Friday night. They seemed to enjoy them. He’d never taken his own parents there. Jacob had never come out to his own family. It seemed like there was always some reason to wait. There was his father’s heart attack when he was a freshman in college. Then his grandmother died. His parents were conservative religiously and politically, and he was afraid they wouldn’t pay for college. College had been over for three years, but he still couldn’t seem to do it. His excuse today was that he didn’t want to distract from Great Aunt Fanny’s birthday celebrations.

  Marcus always said to Jacob that he hated the fact that his boyfriend introduced him as a roommate. After four years of dating and a couple of years of living together, the protests were getting more strident and more frustrated. The recent legalization of same-sex marriage in their state made Marcus even louder on the subject. He wanted Jacob to come out to his family and friends. He talked about marriage. He wanted monogamy. He shot Jacob a self-satisfied look. Jacob rolled his eyes and shoved
a chunk of gefilte fish into his mouth. Too much! He started hacking. Uncle Shem slapped him on the back, too hard. Bits of gefilte fish sprinkled out of his mouth and onto his plate, covering the uneaten carrots like light, mealy snow.

  Jacob stared at the carrots while he wiped his mouth. There was no way he was eating the carrots now. His mother snatched the plate off the table and marched into the kitchen.

  “Dude, you’re off the hook,” Marcus said.

  “Are you kidding? She’s getting more.”

  Sure enough, Sophie marched back into the dining room and placed a full plate of carrots and gefilte fish in front of Jacob.

  “There’s more where that came from,” she said ominously as she returned to her seat.

  Jacob ate a carrot. Then he ate another one. He sliced the gefilte fish slowly, wondering how long he could draw it out before he had to put a piece in his mouth.

  “What? You don’t like the potatoes?” his mother whined.

  Oh yeah. He had forgotten to give equal time to the small streaming mound of mashed potatoes.

  “Sophie, let him eat in peace!” bellowed his father.

  Jacob begrudgingly dug into the potatoes while Marcus gave a quick surreptitious squeeze to his thigh. He was clearly still trying to stifle a giggle.

  And then Great Aunt Fanny started singing. Jacob didn’t know what the song was. The words were Yiddish, and her voice was beautiful. The melody seemed to soothe even his mother who was perpetually high strung. When she finished, those at the table clapped. Then she stood up and raised her glass.

  “I’m 75,” she said. “And I am done waiting for permission to sing. May we all sing our heart out every day. May we all live honestly and follow our hearts. Love is worth it.” She sat down with a thud. She’d always been the fun aunt, but now she was downright defiant, thought Jacob. She got more applause and cheers.

  The meal continued as Jacob’s family jumped from one crisis to the next. Someone knew someone who had cancer. Someone knew another person who had gotten their identity stolen after buying something online.

  “Buy from a store, I tell you, a real, honest-to-goodness store,” said Jacob’s father, rubbing his fingers together as if he was feeling a piece of fabric. “You should take things for a test drive. See how things fit. See how they feel.” He was a retired car salesman and added extra emphasis on the word “feel.”

  Someone had gout. Another person had their car stolen a few months before. The daughter of Maggie from down the street married a woman from Cambodia.

  “Feh,” said Jacob’s father. “You call that a marriage? You can’t produce children, and she’s not even Jewish. Feh! I say. Women are acting like they don’t even need men. Men are acting like girls. It’s just wrong.” His face curled up into a snarl.

  Jacob’s cousin, Abe, excused himself frequently from the table. “Prostate,” he said while his wife, Ethel, wrinkled up her nose and gave him a dirty look, possibly for sharing a little too much information.

  Finally, it was coffee and cake time. Jacob hated gefilte fish, but he loved the super-strong coffee that his mother made for special occasions like this. He wafted the fumes under his nose, taking in the rich smell. For other coffees he added cream, sugar and various fancy flavorings. This coffee he drank black. He even managed to relax slightly, and he loved the cake. Fortunately, Ethel turned it down, which took up some of his mother’s attention.

  “Diabetes,” said Ethel.

  “Oh, come on, have just a little. You can have a little,” said Sophie, pushing a plate towards her, only to have it intercepted by cousin Abe.

  “Prostate,” he said before alternating between eating the cake and using it to taunt his wife.

  Then Jacob realized that his Great Uncle Saul was trying to make eye contact with him. Fanny was the fun aunt, but Saul, her brother, was always considered the odd bird. He never married. If he showed up to family events, he was always alone. Jacob didn’t know him well. He never seemed around that much, and, yes, Jacob heard his relatives in whispered tones call Great Uncle Saul a faygeleh, Yiddish for fairy. And now it seemed like he had something he wanted to say to Jacob.

  Jacob nodded in response, and they went out to the back porch. Jacob had tried to take the coffee with him, but his mother had protested.

  “Not my best china! It’s not going out there!”

  “Out there” was beautiful, mild and sunny. It was the last weekend in June. The equinox was just a few days before. Even though it was getting late, the sun was high in the sky. A delicate breeze blew off the lake, which was about a five-minute walk away, keeping the air fresh.

  “You should probably know the family secret at some point,” said Great Uncle Saul, standing next to Jacob and speaking in low tones.

  “We have a family secret?” exclaimed Jacob. He knew that there were things they didn’t say too loudly. Disease names were always whispered. There were things that were said indirectly, behind people’s backs, even though gossip was “evil tongue” and a sin, like calling Great Uncle Saul a faygeleh. Jacob had his own secrets, like the fact that he was gay and in love with his “roommate,” but that was his. It wasn’t his family’s.

  “Shhh!” Great Uncle Saul looked so serious that Jacob decided to humor him. He got closer. He could see the deep wrinkles that surrounded Saul’s mouth and nose. Jacob could smell a slight odor of coffee and gefilte fish on his breath.

  “We have a Golem who protects us,” whispered Saul.

  “You mean like in the comic books?” Jacob asked. He had heard of the Golem, a mythical figure made of clay, dirt and/or mud imbued with life who saves Jews, and who had, yes, been turned into a comic book character at some point. Scary Golem stories were told around the fire at summer camp. Saul slapped the back of Jacob’s head.

  “Our Golem is not the stuff of comic books. You must listen and remember,” Saul said sternly. “I hope you never need to call on him, but you need to know.”

  Saul proceeded to tell a fantastical tale about an ancestor who in 17th century Poland had created a Golem to protect his family from marauders that were pillaging the region. The village was burning, and he made this giant man of clay who chased the invaders away and carried the family through the flames to safety.

  “This Golem is your birthright, Jacob. You can call him with a prayer and by saying his name when you need him. He will form out of whatever is available for him, but you must always remember to set him free when his work is done. He will always be with you, but you must always set him free.”

  “Uh, yeah, cool story, Uncle Saul,” Jacob said, wondering if Uncle Saul was in the grips of dementia.

  “It’s not just a cool story! Men in our family have been calling on our Golem in times of crisis for more than three centuries. You’ll understand when you need to,” said Saul. “And you should know that this Golem our ancestor made, he in particular likes men like us. He likes us very much.” Without giving Jacob a chance to ask him what he meant, Saul turned and walked into the house.

  Jacob took a deep breath and counted to five before following him. Once inside, Saul was nowhere to be found.

  “Your coffee is getting cold,” screeched his mother. “I thought you liked it.”

  “Where did Uncle Saul go?” said Jacob.

  “Feh,” said his father. “He said he had some other party to go to.” He turned to Uncle Shem. “We know what kind of party that’ll be.” He then made a limp-wristed gesture and sneered.

  Shem and Jacob’s father guffawed at what they undoubtedly thought was rapier wit.

  Sophie bristled. “Marvin! Shem! Stop it. Don’t talk about Saul like that in front of the boys,” she said, darting a look at Marcus and Jacob, who had sat down again.

  “They’re not children, Sophie. Anyway, he’s gone,” Uncle Shem said.

  Jacob drank some coffee. It was no longer steaming, but it was still warm and delicious.

  “Welcome back,” said Marcus. “What was that about?”

&
nbsp; “Something about a family Golem,” said Jacob.

  “A what?”

  Jacob’s father cut in and spoke sharply. “Don’t listen to Saul. He’s crazy. It’s a myth.” His father seemed angry, although Jacob wasn’t sure why. He was going to ask, but Great Aunt Fanny started singing again. Her voice calmed everyone down. Jacob’s mother started clearing the table. Marcus gave the signal that he wanted to leave.

  Jacob stood up. “I think we’re going to head out.” He wished his Aunt Fanny happy birthday once more. He hugged and kissed his mother. He said goodbye to the other assorted relatives. His father shook Jacob’s hand and held it for longer than usual.

  “Jacob, meet a nice girl. Stay away from Uncle Saul.”

  “Uh, sure, Dad,” Jacob said, thinking that his father was acting odder than usual. When he turned to Marcus, he could see that Marcus looked less than amused. Jacob shrugged.

  They walked out to Jacob’s car in silence. Jacob had fallen for Marcus when they were both college seniors. He first saw him dancing on top of a speaker at the local gay bar. He was shirtless, although he had a thin white t-shirt tucked into his jeans for later. They had gone home together that night. He loved his smooth dark brown skin and closely shorn hair. They kept their trysts a secret as much as they could. Marcus had his frat brothers to worry about. Jacob was worried about his rabbi.

  After they had graduated, Marcus talked about being out, and he did come out to his family and friends. His parents prayed for guidance, and the guidance they got said to accept their son and his boyfriend, although Marcus was still closeted at work. He worked in finance and said it just wasn’t possible to be black and gay and work in finance. He said he liked being out as much as he was, and he wanted Jacob to follow suit. He also wanted Jacob to be monogamous. Jacob wasn’t that great at that, either. It seemed like every other week there was a new phone app that connected him to guys just a few feet away. He was particularly popular with German tourists, who always wanted to tell him about some synagogue that was being rebuilt in some German town and then suck his dick. Some of them specifically asked him to wear a yarmulke, the traditional head covering for Jewish men, and he would oblige. So some German dudes had a kink for Jewish guys in yarmulkes. Who was he to complain? Besides, some of them gave really good head.