The Collected Stories

Taibele sent a messenger to seek him out, but neither her husband nor the messenger was ever seen again. At thirty-three, Taibele found herself a deserted wife.
    After a period of searching, she realized that she had nothing more to hope for. God had taken both her children and her husband. She would never be able to marry again; from now on she would have to live alone. All she had left was her house, her store, and her belongings. The townspeople pitied her, for she was a quiet woman, kindhearted and honest in her business dealings. Everyone asked: how did she deserve such misfortunes? But God’s ways are hidden from man.
    Taibele had several friends among the town matrons whom she had known since childhood. In the daytime housewives are busy with their pots and pans, but in the evening Taibele’s friends often dropped in for a chat. In the summer, they would sit on a bench outside the house, gossiping and telling each other stories.
    One moonless summer evening when the town was as dark as Egypt, Taibele sat with her friends on the bench, telling them a tale she had read in a book bought from a peddler. It was about a young Jewish woman, and a demon who had ravished her and lived with her as man and wife. Taibele recounted the story in all its details. The women huddled closer together, joined hands, spat to ward off evil, and laughed the kind of laughter that comes from fear.
    One of them asked: “Why didn’t she exorcise him with an amulet?”
    “Not every demon is frightened of amulets,” answered Taibele.
    “Why didn’t she make a journey to a holy rabbi?”
    “The demon warned her that he would choke her if she revealed the secret.”
    “Woe is me, may the Lord protect us, may no one know of such things!” a woman cried out.
    “I’ll be afraid to go home now,” said another.
    “I’ll walk with you,” a third one promised.
    While they were talking, Alchonon, the teacher’s helper who hoped one day to become a wedding jester, happened to be passing by. Alchonon, five years a widower, had the reputation of being a wag and a prankster, a man with a screw loose. His steps were silent because the soles of his shoes were worn through and he walked on his bare feet. When he heard Taibele telling the story, he halted to listen. The darkness was so thick, and the women so engrossed in the weird tale, that they did not see him. This Alchonon was a dissipated fellow, full of cunning goatish tricks. On the instant, he formed a mischievous plan.
    After the women had gone, Alchonon stole into Taibele’s yard. He hid behind a tree and watched through the window. When he saw Taibele go to bed and put out the candle, he slipped into the house. Taibele had not bolted the door; thieves were unheard of in that town. In the hallway, he took off his shabby caftan, his fringed garment, his trousers, and stood as naked as his mother bore him. Then he tiptoed to Taibele’s bed. She was almost asleep, when suddenly she saw a figure looming in the dark. She was too terrified to utter a sound.
    “Who is it?” she whispered, trembling.
    Alchonon replied in a hollow voice: “Don’t scream, Taibele. If you cry out, I will destroy you. I am the demon Hurmizah, ruler over darkness, rain, hail, thunder, and wild beasts. I am the evil spirit who espoused the young woman you spoke about tonight. And because you told the story with such relish, I heard your words from the abyss and was filled with lust for your body. Do not try to resist, for I drag away those who refuse to do my will beyond the Mountains of Darkness—to Mount Sair, into a wilderness where man’s foot is unknown, where no beast dares to tread, where the earth is of iron and the sky of copper. And I roll them in thorns and in fire, among adders and scorpions, until every bone of their body is ground to dust, and they are lost for eternity in the nether depths. But if you comply with my wish, not a hair of your head will be harmed, and I will send you success in every undertaking …”
    Hearing these words, Taibele lay motionless as in a swoon. Her heart fluttered and seemed to stop. She thought her end had come. After a while, she gathered courage and murmured: “What do you want of me? I am a married woman!”
    “Your husband is dead. I followed in his funeral procession myself.” The voice of the teacher’s helper boomed out. “It is true that I cannot go to the rabbi to testify and free you to remarry, for the rabbis don’t believe our kind.