The Eternal Jew’s Tale, #153, Batkol’s Journal, 9

In this episode: poison.
Warning: this episode makes mention of sexual acts.

The Eternal Jew’s Tale
Nineteenth Era, Part 5, ~1425 C.E., back in Genoa
Batkol’s Journal, part 9
The Lesser Yikhud,* The Sorceries of Lilah bat Eve

* Hebrew: union, merging, divine or human

I sit down on a rocky ledge, sudden struck by how weak I be. Somethin’ ain’t right. Suspicious and scared,
“What happened to me that I’m so weak?”
Avoidin’ the question, she just asks,
“How long you think you be here?”

Annoyed at bein’ so tired, I stand and almost faint. I sag back down.
“Serious. How many days?” she ask.
“You know as well as me,”
says I,
“two days; yesterday and today, plus the three when I been lost in the hills.”

“Let’s go inside and sip some broth.”
Heavily leanin’ on her shoulder, and slow, I make my way thru the low-cut door. So few steps, and yet so far.
“This be the sixth day you been here.”

I don’t believe her. She’s Lilithin’ me. I know full well the hours that passed. Still more suspicious, I’m a-feared to eat, till she offers only berries and nuts of pine.

“You face be talin’ what you mouth won’t say, that I poison you foods and twis’ you thought. But why? I don’t need you for slave, and I much regard you holy path, nor seekin’ battle with the God you praise. I ain’t tryin’ to slave you mind.”

“You sayin’ I don’t know how many days passed? What was clearly two you say was six.”
“I’m sayin’ you near die, my dear. You soul be fightin’ most dangerin’ giests, and not my smudge and not my broth and not my medicine bringt you harms. But I see you ain’t believin’ me.”

This last be true, but all the rest be soundin’ like clever, dissemblin’ lies.

I smelt the fumes of them arcane herbs and been dragged thru delusions they brought on, and tasted that bitter mushroom broth that opens a fault-line on Lilith’s world, and I fallt thru chasms to another soul.

“I have some carrot and beet to roast, as also include them herbs you smelt. I take you outside if you worries the smoke be dangerens or trouble some.”
A sharp anxiety grips my gut but I don’t want her to see my fear, so I just lay down and close my eyes and soon them herbs be thick in the air. All trembly I brace for the waves of orgasm cloudburst and demon sex.

Beets and carrots, the first cooked food that has passed my lips in a long time. Then tea. Rosehip the strongest taste. The light fades. The smoky air clears in the evening breeze. I doze.

Anxious dreams. Naked men pursuin’ me. I hide inside an abandoned hut. Under a table a fire burns. I pick up a pail of water, but every time I try to douse the flames, it spills on me.

Such dreams toss and turn me all night. Mornin’. I sit up rather surprised. I’m not so weary that I want to die.
“I see you strength beguns a return. Here some berry, and carrot, and tea.”

“Poison. You wanna know about that? You been poison, but not by me, and not with mushroom and broth and herb. You whole life be poisonin’ you, you own choices, you own works. Growed it, harvested, threshed it well; boils it, strains it, gulps it down. You man, you rabbis, you holy books, poison history, poison truth, poison values, poison faith, poison you can’t taste or smell. *It’s you wife and its you life*. And you won’t break away from it. My waters here be untaint and pure; my food be simple, my words be few. My clarity here as terrify you.”
* ‘Heroin’ by Velvet Underground

At last she makes her intentions known. Pagan shaman and Christian priest, Muslim sheikh and king’s decree, all been longin’ to strip my soul of its Jewish pulse and its Godly voice. This be Lilith screechin’, the same. Nothin’ new here. Not to fear.
“Then what’s the magic you perform to bring them visions down on me?”

She just keep on a-hummin’ her psalm, stirrin’ her soup, bindin’ up herbs.
“Most peoples learns their magics from books. That ain’ knowin’ the power the Lor. That be shammin’, posin’, fluff. Maybe you seen what magics can do — bring down powers, bring on truth. I jes remove a veil from you eye, open you soul to higher speres hid by you doctrine, you senses, you fear. You come here in you own intents. What you seen you wantin’ a see. Have a sip of broth and tea.”

I sup her smoky broth and tea, but I ain’t suppin’ her smoky words. What I seen, that weren’t me, nor of my world, nor of my soul. Devil worlds and devil words. I close my eyes and there she be, hummin’ psalms the devil writ, hummin’ them in her devil tropes.

Must have fell asleep again. Dark. Silent. The dark so dense it presses down. I can’t move.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the next episode, kaleidoscoping worlds.