I asked around my class today, and luckily, it seems that I am not the only one who didn`t know. Unfortunately, I don`t share great company. There`s Derrin, who would be the class bully if he had half the brains to be one, and Bryan, who daydreams so much, I am surprised he knows that anything exists. The more and more I hear about them the more I am confused. Are they made out of wood or stone? Are they really alive? Are they secretly robots from the future? I heard Ryan even has a golem in his house! Of course, if I believed everything that Ryan said, he also has a circus, a tank, and every book ever written, so I am not keen to take Ryan`s word for it.
I asked around to see if maybe dragons and wizards existed without my knowledge, but it turns out it is just golems. Which makes sense in a weird way. Well, no, it doesn`t, but I really can`t argue with what exists. It has been rumored that the golem`s name is "Robert Werich" which doesn`t really seem like much of a name for a golem. though I suppose the image in my mind of a golem is a huge mass of stone, mud, and wood, gathered together to make the shape of a giant man. I also heard that they can not speak, so I am not really even sure what it is going to do when it gets here.
I got to lunch and I discussed this problems to my friends Will and Bernard. Much to my amazement, they seemed to be more concerned with their own little arrangement of personal problems. Will was concerned that his mom seems to be packing less and less into his lunch, and Bernard was concerned that he wasn`t too worried about Grace not returning his affections. I couldn`t believe it. The world and everything I thought could and couldn`t exist has been turned on its head and the people I associate the most seem to be completely oblivious to it. I couldn`t decide whether that was more telling of my friends, or my own cluelessness. I tried to shift the conversation to what exactly a golem was, but they would always try to shift back to their own problems. We eventually hit a middle ground in discussing bands we have been listening too.
Lunch recess we did what we did every lunch break, we walked around the playground and talked. I know it isn`t what most of the normal kids do, but Will can`t run fast so we always end up being separated if we play tag or sports like the other kids do. Sometimes Will will mention how fun the conversation is and, "if we were running around with those dolts, we would be as dumb as them!" I`m not so sure, but Will has been my friend since kindergarden, and I don`t just want to leave him alone. And I sometimes wonder why Bernard hangs out with us, but I am beginning to think maybe we are the only ones with the patience to listen to him. It never really annoyed me before until right now. The idea of a golem just wading through my head like a ghost, every time I try to look at it, the vanishes away. I kept trying to interrupt him and all I got was him telling me I would know soon enough. I was scared, and suddenly my friends didn`t really seem like the pals they cracked up to be.
After lunch, 5th period rolled around. English. I did not especially like English normally, but with the gloom of the idea of a Golem over me, I was dreading the class even more. The teacher, Mr. Morris, always had a way of speaking down to me that I didn`t like. He would never shoot down an idea of mine, he would just dismiss it and move on. The worst was when at the parent-teacher conference he told my parents that I "don`t read in-between the lines enough." That is so stupid. Why don`t people just write what they mean? Well, okay, I know that sometimes you can`t always tell the truth 100% of the time (much like Derrin, who would get caught less if he just didn`t blabber to the teacher what prank he just pulled) but maybe if the books we read we a little more clear then maybe I wouldn`t ask so many darn questions about what the heck the story is about. We are reading Ivanhoe right now, and I have no idea what that book is about. Whatever it is about, Mr. Morris seems extra happy today for some reason. It was then that I heard a creaking noise.
It was a horrible sound. I thought it was the floor breaking, but then I realized that the creaking was coming from outside the classroom, and was getting closer. I held on to my desk for impact. The door opens, and in the doorway is a hulking mass. It was a moving pile of what looked like stone, but forming and deforming to fit through the door. I was glad I went to the bathroom before lunch, because if I didn`t, surely my pants would become unsuitable for wearing. Mr. Morris than declared that Mr. Werich is here to observe our class.
Whenever I think of golems, I think of them as just like a normal man, but made out of stone. Mr. Werich was more like a bunch of stones trying their best to take the shape of a man, but not quite succeeding. As he walked inside, he had an odd sort of grace that was the complete opposite of how he looked. He came closer to me and I involuntarily dropped my book on the floor. I was going to pick it up, but I was frozen in fear of the mass approaching my desk. The golem forms a hand and picks up the book.
"Ivanhoe, huh?" the Golem said in a voice that was much higher than I expected, "It`s a good book, but I don`t know if kids today can really relate to these types of things today, eh?"
The golem formed what I think was a smile, and gave me back my book. I tried not to stare, but he had a way of lurching through the desks as Mr. Morris was talking about something or another. How he would carefully avoid knocking into a desk, but then doing so, knock someone else`s stuff their desk. He was careful not to knock anyone with his giant frame, but couldn`t quite manage it. What really through me off was his voice. I expected some deep growl of rocks clashing together to form some sort of "stone speech," but I think Mr. Morris has a deeper voice than him. The golem also had this odd way of giggling whenever someone said something funny. It would be comforting, if it wasn`t coming from the huge rock monster.
I felt bad. Mr. Werich seemed like a good guy, but I couldn`t shake this fear inside me. I was afraid he would destory the entire building. I was afraid he would go crazy and explode rock shards everywhere. I was afraid to take my eyes off him. Then, at that moment, he caught eye with me, and for the first time I really looked at his eyes. They were normally covered but what I imagined to be auni-brow, but I was amazed at how shiny they were. They were like diamonds glistening a deep blue. Then he did what I think was a eyebrow raise, and he left the room, I guess to observe other classes. It was frightening, but there was somethingexhilarating about it.
So 6th period rolled around and the whole school gathered into the auditorium. I sat in the back, just so I could feel safer, I guess. The golem took the podium and cleared his throat.
"Good morning!" he said almost too cheerfully, and you could hear the audience chuckling because it was clearly the afternoon at this point. Mr. Werich clears his throat again.
"Good afternoon, of course! It has been such a busy day that I completely lost track of time. So, many of you may be asking yourselves, why is their a golem on stage today?" It was something that I was wondering. I was thinking perhaps it was a special rock day or something.
"I am here because the best way to fight ignorance is to educate. I have been told by many that golems such as myself are soulless, dumb animations that don`t deserve to exist. I have been told that I am an abomination and I am a disgraceful parody of life. My race has become a word of slander, and some of you didn`t even know my kind existed!" I felt my face turn bright red.
"Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. Well, here I am. A golem in the flesh," he takes cue cards from under the podium and wears what would be comically small glasses if they were used in any other situation,"Let me introduce myself. I am Robert Werich. I was created in 1960 by Joseph Werich in what was known as Czechoslovakia. Joseph Werich was a frustrated man. He would create and create, but he would never show his work. He was afraid of the society around him. He became lonely and decided he wanted to personify his work. He crafted me. He put every ounce of frustration andmadness of his work, smuggled a book that taught him the proper spells, and I was born. He raised me as his own son, the son he could never have, because his brilliance was just not accepted by the people around him. He taught me how to talk, he taught me how to read, he taught me how to function in a normal society. He was eccentric, but all he ever wanted was the best for me. Then, in 1968, what I think were Soviet troops invaded our home anddemanded that he come with them. It was because he created me, and was terrified of what I could do. They wanted to destroy me then and there, but my father, began to wrestle these men to the ground. I managed to get away, but they gunned my father down in the process. The final words he cried out to me were to escape to his cousin`s house in America. So I traveledacross Europe, with no one ever lending a helping hand. They all feared me. They all would rather ignore me than accept that I was there. I learned a lot. I learned love from my father, but the world was teaching me how to hate. Not a single soul would help me. And I began to think. How many are there like me? How many are suffering through the same thing as I am? How many have there ever been? These questioned I stewed on as I stowed myself on a boat and I went to America."
"I was more accepted here. No one would talk to me, but while Werich`s cousin Jan had returned to Czechoslovakia, I was able to stay at his old place and work in a factory. I worked in that factory for 10 years, and every night after work, I would go to the library and research what happened to the other golems. How many of my people got out, and what are they doing. I found nothing. 10 years of books,newspapers, and magazines, and all I got were legends, speculations, and people decrying my existance. I became enraged. My father didn`t die so I could be forgotten. I do not exist merely to pose a philosophical question about the sanctity of life, I exist because I exist! And that is why I am here today, to proclaim that I exist, and that starting today, I am giving your school several copies of my book nearing publication about the history of my people, so perhaps no one else, whether they be made of stone or flesh, will be able to excuse lack of knowledge as their rationalization for their lack of reason."
People applauded. The speech continued about specifics about the first golems and how the history of them throughout Europe. I tried to pay attention, but I kept trying to imagine how Mr. Werich managed to get through all of Europe and stow away on a ship. Or how come when he got to America, no one in his story seemed too surprised. I guess it was just a different time back then. After Mr. Werich was done, our history teacher, Mr. Bently, gave him a hardy handshake and you could tell that he absolutely loved every second of it. I don`t know what I think. It was funner to think of golems as mystical beasts that ravaged the countryside, but thinking about Mr. Werich running from Soviet troops just makes golems like every other bad thing that happens in this world. Maybe that is what makes the world go round in a way.
I still wish wizards and dragons were real, but in the end, I bet they would be just as screwed up as the rest of us.
After lunch, 5th period rolled around. English. I did not especially like English normally, but with the gloom of the idea of a Golem over me, I was dreading the class even more. The teacher, Mr. Morris, always had a way of speaking down to me that I didn`t like. He would never shoot down an idea of mine, he would just dismiss it and move on. The worst was when at the parent-teacher conference he told my parents that I "don`t read in-between the lines enough." That is so stupid. Why don`t people just write what they mean? Well, okay, I know that sometimes you can`t always tell the truth 100% of the time (much like Derrin, who would get caught less if he just didn`t blabber to the teacher what prank he just pulled) but maybe if the books we read we a little more clear then maybe I wouldn`t ask so many darn questions about what the heck the story is about. We are reading Ivanhoe right now, and I have no idea what that book is about. Whatever it is about, Mr. Morris seems extra happy today for some reason. It was then that I heard a creaking noise.
It was a horrible sound. I thought it was the floor breaking, but then I realized that the creaking was coming from outside the classroom, and was getting closer. I held on to my desk for impact. The door opens, and in the doorway is a hulking mass. It was a moving pile of what looked like stone, but forming and deforming to fit through the door. I was glad I went to the bathroom before lunch, because if I didn`t, surely my pants would become unsuitable for wearing. Mr. Morris than declared that Mr. Werich is here to observe our class.
Whenever I think of golems, I think of them as just like a normal man, but made out of stone. Mr. Werich was more like a bunch of stones trying their best to take the shape of a man, but not quite succeeding. As he walked inside, he had an odd sort of grace that was the complete opposite of how he looked. He came closer to me and I involuntarily dropped my book on the floor. I was going to pick it up, but I was frozen in fear of the mass approaching my desk. The golem forms a hand and picks up the book.
"Ivanhoe, huh?" the Golem said in a voice that was much higher than I expected, "It`s a good book, but I don`t know if kids today can really relate to these types of things today, eh?"
The golem formed what I think was a smile, and gave me back my book. I tried not to stare, but he had a way of lurching through the desks as Mr. Morris was talking about something or another. How he would carefully avoid knocking into a desk, but then doing so, knock someone else`s stuff their desk. He was careful not to knock anyone with his giant frame, but couldn`t quite manage it. What really through me off was his voice. I expected some deep growl of rocks clashing together to form some sort of "stone speech," but I think Mr. Morris has a deeper voice than him. The golem also had this odd way of giggling whenever someone said something funny. It would be comforting, if it wasn`t coming from the huge rock monster.
I felt bad. Mr. Werich seemed like a good guy, but I couldn`t shake this fear inside me. I was afraid he would destory the entire building. I was afraid he would go crazy and explode rock shards everywhere. I was afraid to take my eyes off him. Then, at that moment, he caught eye with me, and for the first time I really looked at his eyes. They were normally covered but what I imagined to be auni-brow, but I was amazed at how shiny they were. They were like diamonds glistening a deep blue. Then he did what I think was a eyebrow raise, and he left the room, I guess to observe other classes. It was frightening, but there was somethingexhilarating about it.
So 6th period rolled around and the whole school gathered into the auditorium. I sat in the back, just so I could feel safer, I guess. The golem took the podium and cleared his throat.
"Good morning!" he said almost too cheerfully, and you could hear the audience chuckling because it was clearly the afternoon at this point. Mr. Werich clears his throat again.
"Good afternoon, of course! It has been such a busy day that I completely lost track of time. So, many of you may be asking yourselves, why is their a golem on stage today?" It was something that I was wondering. I was thinking perhaps it was a special rock day or something.
"I am here because the best way to fight ignorance is to educate. I have been told by many that golems such as myself are soulless, dumb animations that don`t deserve to exist. I have been told that I am an abomination and I am a disgraceful parody of life. My race has become a word of slander, and some of you didn`t even know my kind existed!" I felt my face turn bright red.
"Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. Well, here I am. A golem in the flesh," he takes cue cards from under the podium and wears what would be comically small glasses if they were used in any other situation,"Let me introduce myself. I am Robert Werich. I was created in 1960 by Joseph Werich in what was known as Czechoslovakia. Joseph Werich was a frustrated man. He would create and create, but he would never show his work. He was afraid of the society around him. He became lonely and decided he wanted to personify his work. He crafted me. He put every ounce of frustration andmadness of his work, smuggled a book that taught him the proper spells, and I was born. He raised me as his own son, the son he could never have, because his brilliance was just not accepted by the people around him. He taught me how to talk, he taught me how to read, he taught me how to function in a normal society. He was eccentric, but all he ever wanted was the best for me. Then, in 1968, what I think were Soviet troops invaded our home anddemanded that he come with them. It was because he created me, and was terrified of what I could do. They wanted to destroy me then and there, but my father, began to wrestle these men to the ground. I managed to get away, but they gunned my father down in the process. The final words he cried out to me were to escape to his cousin`s house in America. So I traveledacross Europe, with no one ever lending a helping hand. They all feared me. They all would rather ignore me than accept that I was there. I learned a lot. I learned love from my father, but the world was teaching me how to hate. Not a single soul would help me. And I began to think. How many are there like me? How many are suffering through the same thing as I am? How many have there ever been? These questioned I stewed on as I stowed myself on a boat and I went to America."
"I was more accepted here. No one would talk to me, but while Werich`s cousin Jan had returned to Czechoslovakia, I was able to stay at his old place and work in a factory. I worked in that factory for 10 years, and every night after work, I would go to the library and research what happened to the other golems. How many of my people got out, and what are they doing. I found nothing. 10 years of books,newspapers, and magazines, and all I got were legends, speculations, and people decrying my existance. I became enraged. My father didn`t die so I could be forgotten. I do not exist merely to pose a philosophical question about the sanctity of life, I exist because I exist! And that is why I am here today, to proclaim that I exist, and that starting today, I am giving your school several copies of my book nearing publication about the history of my people, so perhaps no one else, whether they be made of stone or flesh, will be able to excuse lack of knowledge as their rationalization for their lack of reason."
People applauded. The speech continued about specifics about the first golems and how the history of them throughout Europe. I tried to pay attention, but I kept trying to imagine how Mr. Werich managed to get through all of Europe and stow away on a ship. Or how come when he got to America, no one in his story seemed too surprised. I guess it was just a different time back then. After Mr. Werich was done, our history teacher, Mr. Bently, gave him a hardy handshake and you could tell that he absolutely loved every second of it. I don`t know what I think. It was funner to think of golems as mystical beasts that ravaged the countryside, but thinking about Mr. Werich running from Soviet troops just makes golems like every other bad thing that happens in this world. Maybe that is what makes the world go round in a way.
I still wish wizards and dragons were real, but in the end, I bet they would be just as screwed up as the rest of us.
