”I am a rock, I am a gooooo—ho-ho-lem”—Stonemon and Rockfunkle, circa 2000 BCE

SAMUEL AND THE GOLEM

by Lee Pelham Cotton © 2003

The Hebrews had been slaves to the folk of the Nile for years without number. But none ever gave up hope of freedom. Generation after generation prayed fervently that a deliverer would one day appear to save them. In the meantime, these brave people did their best to accept their lot.

A Hebrew boy named Samuel found himself employed in the household of a wealthy Egyptian nobleman named Horus. Samuel learned that his new master was a cherished advisor of the Pharaoh and was reputed to be a sorcerer. The Egyptians whispered that Horus, namesake of the hawk-headed god of healing, worked in league with the gods themselves.

Horus quickly recognized the worth of his new serving lad. Samuel rose rapidly in the nobleman’s household and, before a year had passed, the Egyptian offered to make Samuel his apprentice. But Horus told the boy he must first discuss the offer with his own people.

Samuel’s folk violently opposed their son’s apprenticing to a sorcerer.

"But I could help our people with the skills I’d learn," argued Samuel. "I could read the stars and predict our future."

"No, Samuel!" objected the frowning rabbi. "Our fate is in the hands of the Lord, and for Him and Him alone to know."

"I could take something common, like lead, and turn it into gold. Our new wealth would improve our position."

"Samuel, show some sense!" exclaimed his grandmother, shaking her head. "And what would the Egyptians think? That we’d stolen the gold, of course. Then we’d be worse off than ever."

"I could transport our people to a safe place, far from the overseers’ whips."

"What are you saying, you arrogant boy?" demanded his father, throwing up his hands in dismay. "Only a deliverer could do that. Are you calling yourself our deliverer, Samuel?"

Samuel, downcast, returned to his master’s house. When Horus approached the boy, Samuel admitted that his folk had objections. "So," the Hebrew lad suggested to the Egyptian sorcerer, "perhaps I could assist you all the same, but not as a formal apprentice. You wouldn’t have to teach me, Lord Horus. Just let me help you in your work."

"But that’s teaching, young Samuel," said Horus.

Samuel shrugged. "I want to learn."

Horus smiled. "We’ll begin your lessons tomorrow."

Three years passed quickly. Each time Samuel mastered some new skill or another, he would tell himself excitedly, "Who can say? This may be exactly what I need to know to help my people."

One day, Horus and Samuel began a special undertaking. They would make a being of clay which looked like a man but which was much stronger and never tired. Horus explained that this creature was different in another way. It had no soul.

Samuel nodded. "You mean a Golem."

That word was unfamiliar to Horus. Samuel explained it was the name for the being that his people’s God formed of earth and brought to life as Adam, the first man. Before God gave this being a soul, it was called a Golem.

"Our creature will stay a Golem," said Horus. "Even the cleverest sorcerer wouldn’t dare create life. We’re merely making a machine by means of magic."

The Golem was formed by Horus of moist river clay to which rare oils and potions were added. The sorcerer chanted ancient invocations over the lifeless form which lay by a splashing fountain in the full moon’s light.

"And now for the final bit of magic." The sorcerer held up a carving of a scarab beetle, which his folk associated with eternal life. Leaning over the clay man, Horus placed the amulet on its brow.

"Watch, Samuel. Listen." Horus solemnly whispered three words in a language so old even the Egyptians had forgotten it. Then, he plucked the scarab from the brow of the statue.

The sorcerer held up the small blue charm, explaining, "Whoever bears this amulet rules the creature." Looking down at the gigantic figure stretched out on the marble tiles, he commanded, "Open your eyes."

The Golem obeyed. It no longer looked like a rough image of damp clay, but like a huge man with a gray hue to his skin and dark gray eyes.

"Stand up."

The Golem did as it was bid, although clumsily and slowly.

"The creature will become more nimble soon." Horus told his apprentice. "And it’ll do exactly as told, so we must be careful what we order it to do."

"We?"

The sorcerer smiled. "Didn’t you say your people were overworked? This creature can help them at their tasks. That’s why we’ve created it."

Samuel’s eyes lit up. He was already planning the hard jobs the Golem could do for his friends and relatives. The Egyptian interrupted Samuel’s speculations. "But remember this, lad. It’s not wise to keep this being ‘alive’ all the time. Tradition says the longer it’s conscious, the more it starts to think for itself. That could prove dangerous. But there’s a way to immobilize the creature when you aren’t using it." Horus fetched a stool so he could replace the scarab on the Golem’s forehead. Immediately, the creature became nothing more than an unmoving, gigantic image.

Within a month after the Golem was created, the lives of the Hebrews had changed profoundly for the better. Samuel would venture forth in the daytime, chatting with folk about their present burdens and their upcoming tasks. He would listen and remember. At night, he would travel to his peoples’ workplaces with the Golem.

Whether chopping straw to make bricks, harvesting a field of onions or preparing flax for spinning into linen thread, the creature had become both quick and clever. After a hard night’s work, Samuel would lead the Golem back to a storage room in Horus’ house to remain quiet in the dusty shadows.

Samuel, often assisting the Golem in its tasks, spoke often to the silent, toiling creature of the sad plight of the Hebrew slaves.

"Things are better now, Golem, because of you. You’re such a blessing to my people." The boy sighed. "But, no matter how much you help, the fact remains that we’re still in bondage." Samuel watched the giant tirelessly treading grapes for wine. "You can’t help us gain our freedom. I wish you could. Those Egyptians are cruel and wicked to keep us here to do their work."

The Golem had stopped working. It was regarding its young master, its face expressionless. Samuel felt his own face flush. He was thinking, is it just for me to command this creature to work harder than any slave? Am I any better than the Egyptians holding the Hebrews in bondage?

Don’t be foolish, Samuel told himself fiercely. This is entirely different. The Golem’s a magical creature. Horus said it was only a tool. It’s not even human. It doesn’t feel pain or get tired as we do.

A little voice inside Samuel whispered, isn’t that just what the Egyptians say about us Hebrews? Samuel remembered once coming into the storage room in the middle of the day. He had discovered the huge creature peeping out of a corner of the window at some children playing in the alley. The Golem’s gray eyes had looked sad as it listened to the laughter. Samuel hung his head. He decided to take the Golem home early. He looked over to tell the creature so, but it had vanished.

The Golem, as Horus had predicted, was becoming more and more human with the passage of time. Doing the work of the Hebrew slaves, it experienced their burdens firsthand. By listening to Samuel, it understood the misfortunes of the apprentice’s people.

Poor, frightened Samuel hastily followed the tracks of the Golem, the huge purple splatters which looked like blood in the moonlight, as far as they went. "Where do I go now?" he asked himself frantically. Samuel winced at the shrieks and shouts which rent the air, telling him all too well which way to go. As he hurried towards the dreadful sounds, he fumbled for the scarab. He couldn’t find it!

The young man was now before the sorcerer’s house. He could hear crashing and screaming within. Samuel flew through the doorway and skidded down a corridor. He gasped with horror at what he saw. The Golem had cornered Horus and was closing in on him.

The apprentice howled at the Golem, "Stop, stop! Leave my master alone. Not all Egyptians are bad. And killing them isn’t the answer anyway. Stand still where you are!"

The Golem paused in mid-grab. Horus, his voice soft, advised, "Act swiftly, my young apprentice. Use the scarab, Samuel. Use it quickly."

"I can’t find it," moaned the boy.

The Golem’s gray, stony stare was fixed on the sorcerer. Its hands were twitching.

Horus said calmly, "Tell the creature that this isn’t the place for my execution. Tell it to carry me, without harm, and to follow you."

"But," began the boy.

"Just tell it," insisted the Egyptian.

Samuel, at his master’s instructions, led the Golem where huge stone blocks were being worked to build a temple.

"Tell the creature to stand there with me," instructed Horus, pointing.

At Samuel’s command, the Golem moved into position.

"Now, Samuel, tell it to set me on the ground and untie that big rope." Samuel nodded, feeling suddenly dizzy with relief. Horus would be able to escape while the creature was busy with the knot.

The Golem obeyed Samuel. It deposited the sorcerer on the ground, but then positioned its foot firmly on Horus’ robe. The Egyptian was trapped. Horus shrugged and closed his eyes. Samuel bowed his head in defeat.

The rope was thick and the knot was hard to work, but the Golem was both strong and nimble. The knot began to loosen.

It was then that Samuel saw what his master’s whole plan. "Horus!" he screamed, "No! No!"

The sorcerer shook his head and put his finger to his lips. "This is the only way," he said serenely. "This is my choice, Samuel. I’m not afraid to die."

The knot came free at that moment. The huge stone poised over the heads of the Golem and the sorcerer fell with a great, earth-shaking thud. The Golem was destroyed, due to the sacrifice of Samuel’s master.

Samuel wept bitter tears as he trudged slowly back to Horus’ house, where he packed his belongings. Suddenly, the young man gasped. As he was shaking out a tunic, the blue scarab fell to the tiles. Samuel kicked it into a corner. "Let it lie there forever," the boy whispered bitterly. "It’s nothing but a curse." But then he picked up the little amulet. It was all he had left of his master. Samuel left the sorcerer’s house, still holding the blue scarab. The dawn was breaking. The sky was flushed and fresh.

As he walked towards his parents’ house, Samuel whispered, "I didn’t use this great power properly. But I’ll remember the secrets my poor dead master taught me. Perhaps I’ll teach someone I can trust the secret of the Golem. Maybe someday, someone wiser than I will use the creature to bring joy and freedom rather than death and sorrow."

Some say that Samuel did indeed reveal the Egyptian mysteries to an apprentice before he died. Some say that the wisdom of Horus has been passed down even to the present day amongst Samuel’s people. Some even say that, from time to time, someone has dared to make a Golem. Sometimes good came of the creation, and sometimes evil. But those are tales for another time.

x x x

I love fresh twists on old legends. This story both entertained me and inspired a story of my own. My thanks to Mr. Cotton. And your comments, please?




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