A Curable Romantic (100 page)

“Thanks to my brushing up on what are known in our tradition as the Hekhaloth texts,” the rebbe whispered to me, as he took my arm, “I was able to make my way past all the previous guards.”

“Guards?” I said.

“Naturally.”

“I didn’t see any guards.”

“I’m not certain I’d have been as successful the rest of the way.”

CHAPTER 8

and
hurried us along a knotted rope bridge. Upon entering the Sixth Heaven, however, we discovered it was in a complete disarray. I cupped my handkerchief to my nose. “What
is
that smell?”

“Rats,”
said.

“It appears they’ve broken into the storehouses.”

“And what exactly is stored here?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,”
said, inspecting the damage.

“Trials and vexations,”
told me.

“Trials and vexations?” I said.

“Well, yes.”

I looked about. The place was indeed a wreck. Doors were bursting open, some were hanging off their hinges. Snow and hail had spilled out across the floor, and it was difficult not to slip on the mess. Noxious dew was dripping from more than one vat, and a military magazine stocked with storms had been ransacked, it appeared, as had several cellars holding what
told us were very precious reserves of smoke and ash. Also a laboratory in which a rare bacterium was kept had been pilfered.

“And all so close to the Holy Blessed One,” the rebbe said with a tone of wonder in his voice. Like me, he’d covered his face with a handkerchief.

and
were hanging back, I’d noticed, near the exit doors.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have brought them here,”
said glumly.

“No, no, I want to see it all. I must see it all.” The rebbe circled around, taking in the room. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, that door is all that separates us from the Seventh Heaven and the Throne of the Merciful One Himself.” He pointed down a long passageway toward a door that appeared to be on fire.

“Not exactly, Your Holiness,”
said. “Behind that door is another door, and behind it is another door as well. There are twelve, in fact, each hotter and more blazing than the last.”

“The Throne itself is guarded by the archangel Metatron.”
lowered his voice and whispered this odd-sounding name, and the rebbe nodded, as though he were familiar with the figure. “But you’ll have to take our word for it, as unfortunately …”
said, looking helplessly at his brother.

“Ah, yes, unfortunately … well … how to put this?”