Chad Gadya

Whale, I'm Done

The car ride to Puget Sound involved one too many near-death experiences and a lot of patience on my mother's part. My mother took the highway and we sang along to the radio until our voices grew hoarse. We stopped for lunch at a local cafe and ended up all ordering grilled cheese, seeing that the menu was rife with non-kosher options like cheeseburgers and pulled pork sandwiches. We ordered the food and ate in the car. Alexandros ate with gusto. "Remind me to nominate whoever invented this delicacy for the Seraphim Prize," Alexandros said when they finished their sandwich.

      "The Seraphim Prize?" I echoed.

       "It's an award for creatures who have helped repair the world," Alexandros explained. "One of the categories is in cuisine because food brings people together."

     I couldn't agree more, so I finished my Seraphim Prize-worthy sandwich with relish.

     The first near-death experience turned out to be when my mother stopped to gas up. Alexandros stayed in the car working on crossword puzzles. Marzipan was hungry ("the napkins at the restaurant weren't nearly filling enough"), so we took her to a nearby strip of overgrown weeds. She munched on them with much enthusiasm.

      A man wearing a cowboy hat and boots strode up to us. He was heavily tanned and I didn't like the way he was eying my goat. "Is the kid for sale?" he asked.

    I folded my arms over my chest and shook my head. The man scratched his chin. "I'll offer you a good price for it," he said.

     "She's not for sale," I repeated.

     The man's face soured. "And what are you even going to do with this goat? Keeping her like a pet is useless! You could make some serious money by sending her to a slaughterhouse or offering her to your local synagogue as a Passover sacrifice."

    I gave him my snarkiest smile. "A Passover sacrifice? I'm afraid you're several centuries too late for that. Now leave me and my goat alone before I start get really mad."

My goat looked up from her five-course meal. "You heard her, schmuck."

      The man's face contorted with anger as he stepped closer to us. His leather jacket was torn to shreds as wings sprouted from his back. His wings were feathery and white. I looked at Kuni. "I thought angels were supposed to be good!" I squeaked.

He shrugged. "I'll get Alexandros."

He darted off. The winged dude came near me, gnashing his teeth. I remembered what my rabbi had said just before the demon kidnapped him and an idea started to form in my mind. "Hey Mister Nice Guy!" I said, skipping around him.

"That is not my name!" the winged dude said.

"Okay, Bird-Brain," I said in a cheery voice.

Marzipan caught on. "I hear your mother calls you Nun."

I started clapping and doing a little jig. "I hear your father calls you Sin."

The guy was seriously getting annoyed. His wings were beating so quickly that they produced a small wind. "I am not named after Hebrew letters!" he roared. "I am Benjamin, son of Jeremiah."

Marzipan wrinkled her nose. "I think Sin suits you more."

I didn't have a clay pot with me, so I took out a pen and a sticky note from my jeans pocket (I had changed earlier because I was not wearing my bat mitzvah clothes on a quest). I quickly wrote "Benjamin, son of Jeremiah" on it and then stuck it to the guy's back while Marzipsn distracted the guy with her dancing.