Satan in Goray - Isaac Bashevis Singer [29]
13
"The Others" Arrive It was after midnight. In the bright night that lay over Goray a wind blew, a strong wind that swept away the dry snow and bore it off to pile up in mounds. The frozen earth was bared; trees shook off their winter white; branches broke; moss suddenly appeared on the housetops. In the very middle of the winter the roofs faced the world, with all their rotten shingles and patches. Crows awoke and cawed hoarsely, as at some unexpected sorrow. Snowflakes whirled through the air like wild geese. Between dark, plowed clouds, full of pits and holes, a faceless moon rushed through the sky. One might have thought the town had been doomed to a sudden alteration that had to be completed before the rising of the morning star. That night Rabbi Benish lay down to sleep later than usual on the bench bed in his study. In his white trousers and prayer vest he lay, resting on three feather-soft pillows, and covered with a comforter. Nevertheless, he could not fall asleep. A whistling and a howling rose from the hearth, and now and then in the stagnant air a sigh as of a soul in torment. The rafter, piled high with ancient holy volumes no longer fit for use, shuddered, and dull thuds were heard from above, as though someone were moving heavy things about. Though the clay oven was stoked, and the windows shut and sealed with braided straw, a cold gust blew through the air, chilling Rabbi Benish's old limbs. Rabbi Benish attempted to concentrate on Torah as he usually did when sleep had deserted him. But tonight his thoughts ran too rapidly, crowded close on one another, tangled. He pressed his eyelids down over his eyes, but they opened again of their own ac-cord. Half awake and half asleep, his ears caught the sound of speech that seemed to be issuing from many mouths. Several voices were debating stubbornly and hotly. It was the same old everlasting wrangling about Sabbatai Zevi and the end of days that had been running ceaselessly through his mind. Suddenly he started, so violently that his bench bed moved with him. The voices ceased. In their place there came a rapping at the rabbi's shutter. He shook himself awake, sat up, and trembling with fear asked: "Who's there?" "It is me, Rabbi. Forgive me." "Who are you?" "Grunam." Rabbi Benish sensed bad news, and his skin prick-led.