Unidentified Funny Objects 2 (3 page)

Rebecca smelled the newly repaired golem. “Jujube, apples, grapes… and honey, I think.”

“
Aiya
. That explains the problem. When I told you to get mud, did you think I meant ‘sweet mud?’”

“Now you sound like my mom. ‘Go get mud! Go get mud!’ You didn’t say anything about what had to be
in
the mud.”

“Are you a mindless golem? Do I have to specify everything? God’s servants show initiative!”

“I did the best I could. Seems to me that the flaw was the lack of detailed instructions.”

“Again with the blame.”

“Wait a minute,” God said. “What’re you sprinkling on it?”

“MSG.”

“No. No no no no! I told you to use salt.”

“But MSG is better. With this much MSG, even a rat would think twice about eating the golem.”

“You think rats care about the health effects of MSG? When I told Noah to use gopher wood to construct the Ark, do you think he just substituted cedars? No. When I tell you to do something, you do it exactly the way I tell you. No modifications!”

“‘Show initiative!’ ‘No modifications!’ I’m getting conflicting messages here.”

“I get that complaint a lot. Join the club.”

God waited as Rebecca sprinkled salt over the golem. “More, more. Lots more. Make it inedible to the rats.”

“I’m going to get a taste of this at Passover, aren’t I? Parsley in salt water?”

“Where do you think I got the idea? All Jews remember the taste of tears. It comes in handy.”

NOW SOAKED IN SALT, the golem was having a much easier time fending off the attacking rats. One after another, it captured the rats and brought them back. Soon, the bathtub was filled to capacity. The rats climbed over each other. A few almost jumped out.

“This isn’t going to work,” God said. “You need a bigger tub.”

Rebecca decided that the best way to hold all the rats was to use the entire bathroom.

She opened the fan vent in the ceiling of the bathroom, and ordered the golem to herd the rats towards that opening until they dropped down into the locked bathroom.

“Whatever you do,
don’t
go into my bathroom,” Rebecca said to her mother and rushed off before she could ask any questions.

“JUST ONE MORE rat to go,” God said, excitedly. “I think we’ll be able to do this.”

The last rat was strong, fat, about the size of a cat. His black-and-white fur was getting patchy in places. He waddled a bit when he walked, but he could still put on a sprint when he needed to.

Not for nothing was he the smartest rat on the ship. He knew that he was being herded, and he dodged the golem in the maze of HVAC ducts, refusing to go anywhere near Rebecca’s room.

Rebecca ran through the ship, following the skittering and pounding footsteps overhead. She ran through the promenade deck, dodging couples standing by windows full of red-shifted star fields; she excused herself as she rushed into and out of a seminar room full of startled cruise passengers listening to an investment lecture; she ran up and down flights of stairs, hoping to help the golem.

Finally, the rat decided that it was better to reveal his existence to the ship’s crew than to be captured by the lumbering, terrifying mud monster. He dropped out of one of the overhead vents and landed in the middle of the kitchen.

Rebecca burst into the kitchen from the dining room and lunged after the rat, but he changed direction at the last minute, leapt onto a nearby stack of boxes, and jumped onto the stainless steel counter.

The head chef, sous-chefs, waiters, and busboys stared, mouths agape. A fat rat was running loose in their kitchen; a little girl was yelling and chasing after it; and
plop
, a pile of mud fell out of the vent over their heads, landed on top of the counter, and stood up like a little person.

The head chef fainted.

“Get him!” Rebecca yelled. “I’ll cut off his retreat.” She rushed to the other end of the counter, hoping that the rat, trying to get away from the pursuing golem, would skid right into her waiting plastic bag.

The rat kept on running towards Rebecca.
But why was the rat grinning?

In the middle of the counter was a sink, half filled with water and dirty dishes. The rat jumped right into the sink and swam across the soapy water with little effort. It climbed up the other side and turned around.

Oh no
, Rebecca thought.
Water and mud
.

“Stop!” She shouted at the golem and waved her arms frantically, smacking the face of a busboy who was trying to get a closer look at the animated mud statue. “Sorry!” Rebecca glanced at the boy to be sure he was okay while still shouting instructions to the golem, “Go around! Get him on the other side!”

The golem tried to stop, but it slipped on the soapy puddle next to the sink and fell into the water. It sank immediately.

“What happens now?” Rebecca asked.

“I’ve never seen this,” God said. “None of this is very orthodox, you understand.”

The water in the sink bubbled and churned, and finally, a much wetter, more amorphous golem emerged, climbing up the other side of the sink. It now lumbered forward like a walking starfish. The water had dissolved most of its facial features, but the eyes were still vaguely there, two small pits.

The golem paused, looked around, and went after the busboy standing by Rebecca. It passed right by the rat, chittering next to the sink, and launched itself into the air. Before anyone had a chance to react, it latched onto the startled face of the busboy, and began to punch his nose and bat him about the ears.

“Aw! OUCH!”

Rebecca yelled at the golem to stop, but the golem ignored her.

“It can’t hear you,” God said helpfully. “The water’s dissolved the ears, which you should have made bigger. The last order it heard from you was ‘get
him
on the other side.’ Since you were looking at the busboy, the creature thought that’s who you meant.”

Rebecca ran to help the boy. She grabbed onto the slick and soapy golem. But it was like trying to grab onto a jellyfish, her hands slipped and the golem easily slithered out of her grasp. The creature turned around and stuck out a pseudopod of mud, and punched Rebecca in the lips.

Rebecca reeled back, seeing stars. She could taste the MSG, too. Mixed with salt and apples and grapes. And soap.
Blech
.

The boy was now on the ground, rolling around and trying as best as he could to protect his face with his hands and forearms. The golem was strong and relentless. Rebecca could see bruises and swelling on the boy’s face.

“It’s really hurting the boy,” Rebecca said. “How do I make it stop?”

“You have to erase the aleph from the
emet
on its forehead,” God said. “Turn
emet
into
met
, or ‘death.’ That will stop the golem.”

“Which one is aleph again?” Rebecca asked in a panic. “Remember I’m new at all this!”

God groaned.

Rebecca turned around and faced the rat, still chittering on the counter.

“Listen,” she said. Her heart pounded. She had no idea if this would work. But God’s helpers were always creative, weren’t they?
They
showed initiative. She was going to be the best Chinese-Jewish helper of God ever.

“I need your help to stop the golem. If you do this good deed, God will help you and the other rats find good homes.”

“I will?” God asked.

“I’m God’s helper. I can speak for Him.”

“You can?” God asked.

“It’ll be much better than hiding on this ship and stealing people’s table scraps,” Rebecca said.

The rat looked at Rebecca quizzically, chittered some more, stroked his whiskers, and then launched himself at the golem.

“Good rat,” Rebecca said, and went after the golem too.

The rat dove into the golem. The golem let go of the boy and tried to defend itself. It wrapped its limbs around the rat and
squeezed
, like a python. The rat squeaked and his eyes bulged out.

Distracted by the rat, the golem couldn’t pay attention to Rebecca. She leaned in, and with the palm of one hand, wiped away the Hebrew letters on the golem’s head. Grabbing a chopstick from the floor, she wrote the Chinese character for ‘death’ in their place.

“Good thing I can read Chinese,” God said. “And I’ve gotten used to your chicken scratch.”

The golem stopped moving. It was just a pile of shapeless mud on the ground now.

REBECCA SAT ACROSS THE large oak desk from the captain. In the middle of the desk was a pile of mud, the remains of the golem. The office was large and spacious, but she felt claustrophobic. She was boxed in and had nowhere to go.

Her father sat to her left, her mother to her right, and behind her, blocking the door, stood a line of stony-faced witnesses: the head chef, sous-chefs and their staff who had to scrub the kitchen all afternoon, as well as the busboy whose eyes were swollen almost shut.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lau,” the captain said, drumming his fingers on the smooth surface of the desk. “Your daughter has caused a great deal of trouble for Blueshift Cruise by bringing contraband creatures onto the ship. There are reasons that pets like your daughter’s rat and this exotic alien creature that wrecked my kitchen are forbidden! But she apparently thinks rules only apply to other people.”

Rebecca silently seethed at the injustice of the accusation. There was no point in arguing. Her parents always thought she was in the wrong whenever authority figures like teachers were involved, so of course they would believe the captain. Indeed, they might even interpret her “crazy” rants about rats yesterday as evidence of her guilt. She was as good as convicted.

The captain went on, “Now, we need to discuss the matter of compensation–”

“Indeed, we should,” David said. “Starting with how you’re going to compensate my daughter for accusing her unjustly.”

Rebecca stared at her dad in surprise. He smiled at her and patted her hand.

“I suggest you send someone to take a look in Rebecca’s stateroom. You’ll find that she did not bring any animals, rat or otherwise, onto your ship.”

Oh no
. Rebecca started to speak, but her father gestured for her to remain silent.

Rebecca cringed at the thought of the discovery of the rats trapped in her bathroom. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her before her parents were disgraced because of her.

The captain looked at the Laus suspiciously, but he ordered a steward to do as David suggested.

You have a plan for this?
She mouthed silently at God.

“Plans are not as good as surprises,” God said.

“Now, while your man is gone, I’m going to address your ridiculous claim about the ‘exotic alien creature.’ That’s clearly just a figurine made of mud, no more alive than any of the plastic flowers that fill this ship.”

The captain sputtered indignantly, “I’ve got a whole room of witnesses—”

“Does this thing look alive to you?” David poked at the remains of the golem. “I made this with her. I know what it is.”

Helen got up to examine the mud. “This is from our facial at the spa.” She sniffed it and made a face. “And it’s gone bad. What did your people put in this?”

“But, but—” the captain sputtered.

“The mud is from
your
spa,” Helen said. “If anything was causing this to move, then you might want to check your spa for alien infestations before other customers complain.”

The captain sat down sullenly and kept his mouth shut. Helen put an arm around Rebecca, who was too stunned by the turn of events. Not only was her mother not mad at her, but she was actually defending Rebecca.

“Parents, they sometimes surprise you, eh?” God said.

Rebecca wished this moment would last forever. She wished the steward sent to her room never returned.

The door to the captain’s office banged open. The out-of-breath, sweaty steward rushed in, came to a halt by the captain, and bent down to whisper to him what he had found in Rebecca’s stateroom.

Rebecca closed her eyes and waited for her doom.

“What have you done to MY SHIP?” The captain roared at the family sitting across the desk. “Her bathroom is filled to the ceiling with rats!”

David stood up and leaned across the desk to stare the captain in the face. “That’s what I wanted you to see. The rats came from your ship, not Rebecca. You should be thanking her. She was smart enough to trap the rats in her bathroom.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“If you check your ventilation ducts, you’ll find months worth of rat droppings and hair. Rebecca didn’t bring the rats on the ship. She’s the
victim
of your poor pest control procedures! She told us that she was going to catch the rats on this ship, and you’re lucky she succeeded.”

The captain dispatched several men to go examine the ventilation ducts and confirm David’s statement. But his face was ashen. He remembered the reports about odd droppings.

“Now, just imagine if you actually docked at New Haifa and allowed the rats to escape. At a minimum, Blueshift Cruise would be fined, and the press would have a field day writing about the lack of sanitation on Blueshift Cruise ships. I’d wager that you’d be fired in a second. So, let’s discuss the matter of compensation.”