Jenny Everywhere: Origins 1
Feb. 17th, 2023 03:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scott_sanfordIt's Fiction Friday again!
Wasn't Jenny Everywhere supposed to be in these stories? Oh, yeah.
Jenny Everywhere in
Chapter One
David was at home reading when a polite knock came at his door. And a woman walked effortlessly through the closed door into his living room.
“Pᴇᴀᴄᴇ. I ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏ ʜᴀʀᴍ.” Her voice was soft but distorted, like multiple replays of the same person repeating a line several times, slightly out of synch.
“Harm I’m not so worried about,” he said, saving his place and putting his book aside. “You, though, you look like you’re here for a reason.”
He looked her over, attempting skepticism despite it all. She looked… human, or close enough. But then, so did he. She looked about the same age he did, an indeterminate thirty-something, young enough to be fit and energetic yet old enough to be taken seriously. Medium height, short black hair, maybe Chinese or Japanese or something. Dressed normally enough in a skirt, blouse, and scarf, save for a pair of goggles shoved up on her forehead that were definitely glowing from within. But up close she was slightly blurry, as if seen by a camera not perfectly focused, and the effect got worse when she moved.
Between that and the reverb on her voice, he hardly needed the demonstration of intangibility.
“Yᴇs. Mʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs Jᴇɴɴʏ Eᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ I ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇʟᴘ.”
He nodded, having expected as much.
“You’d best start from the beginning.” He made a gesture, offering a chair across from his.
“Yᴇs, I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ.” She sat down and continued, “Mʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪʟʟᴜsᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ. Yᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇs ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ.”
He nodded, She smiled.
“Gᴏᴏᴅ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴀᴠᴇs ᴜs ᴛɪᴍᴇ. Mʏ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴀᴍ ɪɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs. A Jᴇɴɴʏ ɪs ʙᴏʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴜs. Sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇɴᴇss ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs, ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢs. Wᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴍᴜsɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴠᴇs.”
“Sounds nice, I guess. So what’s the problem?”
“Tʜᴀᴛ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴇǫᴜɪʀᴇs sᴏᴍᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs, ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ Jᴇɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɴ ᴅᴏ, ᴀɴʏ Jᴇɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ. Iᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋɪʟʟs ᴏғ ᴀɴʏ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ-ғᴏʟᴅ. Fᴏʀ ᴜs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ɪs ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ, sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ.
“Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴍᴇ,” she pointed out. “I ᴀᴍ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇssɪᴏɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀɴ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜs ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɴ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ.”
“I was wondering, yes,” David said, nodding. “So, all this, why are you…?” He gestured at her, hoping she’d elaborate.
“Iᴛ ɪs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴅᴏ, ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴇᴘ ᴀsɪᴅᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ sɪɴɢʟᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ. I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ Jᴇɴɴʏ Eᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ; I ᴀᴍ – ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ – ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟ Jᴇɴɴɪᴇs, ᴇxɪsᴛɪɴɢ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇᴅ ʙᴜɴᴅʟᴇ, ᴄᴏɴsᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ sʜɪғᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ I ᴀᴍ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ Dᴀᴠɪᴅs ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’s ᴀʟsᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ. Lɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ɢɪᴠᴇs ᴜs ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴛᴀɢᴇs I ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs.”
“Hu, yes, I’d think so,” he agreed.
“Yᴇs. Tʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ. Iɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴀ Jᴇɴɴʏ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇɢᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴ. Sʜᴇ ɪs ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ sᴇʟғ, ᴛᴏᴏ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴛᴜᴅʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ I ᴀᴍ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ᴍᴇ, sᴛɪʟʟ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ sɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀɪʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀs ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs ᴅᴏ. Mᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ʙɪɢ sɪsᴛᴇʀs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ… ᴀʙsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ. Sʜᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ, ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ sʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴍs ʜᴇʀsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs.”
“You can’t do it?,” David asked, thinking this over. “You’re supposed to be her, more or less, you can’t help her?”
“Nᴏ! I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴀʀᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ. Tʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ sᴜsᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ Jᴇɴɴʏ Eᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ. Iɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. Iғ sʜᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ᴀᴍ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ.” The woman shuddered, her discomfort and fear obvious.
“For you or for her?”, David asked.
“Fᴏʀ ᴛʜɪs ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ.”
“Oy.” He thought to himself that he didn’t need this – but who did? “And you came to me. Not a bad idea, you could do a lot worse, but why me?”
“Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. Oᴜʀ ʙɪɢ sɪsᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ ʙʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ɪɴ ᴡᴀʏs ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ. Tʜᴇʏ sᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. I ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ sᴀᴠᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴏʀɴ.”
“Prophecies no less. This again.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully and asked, “Maybe you’d better know some of the why, being a messenger from outside the world and all. You know of the Tzadikim Nistarim?”
She raised an eyebrow in surprise, looked off into the distance for a moment, and nodded slowly. “I’ᴠᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ.”
“Right. Some parts of the world, they need protecting. Looking after. A helping hand now and then, maybe. So here I am, me and some others. Never too close, but in the neighborhood if we’re needed.
“I sᴇᴇ,” she said, understanding.
“And don’t go looking for the lamedvavnik,” he added, warning her, “some things are secret for good reasons.”
“As ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ,” she said. “Bᴜᴛ I ᴛʜɪɴᴋ I ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. Wᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ʏᴏᴜ sᴘᴏᴋᴇ ᴏғ.”
“Hu, yes, it sounds like it. So I need to find a dead woman, an eshet chayil to save the world, nu? Not that many who can lend a hand.” He shrugged expressively, then gave her a knowing smile. “But now that you mention it, yes. I think I know one who can help...”
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The character of Jenny Everywhere is available for use by anyone, with only one condition. This paragraph must be included in any publication involving Jenny Everywhere, in order that others may use this property as they wish. All rights reversed.
Wasn't Jenny Everywhere supposed to be in these stories? Oh, yeah.
Chapter One
“I live on Earth at present, and I don’t know what I am. I am not a thing – a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process – an integral function of the universe.” – Buckminster Fuller
David was at home reading when a polite knock came at his door. And a woman walked effortlessly through the closed door into his living room.
“Pᴇᴀᴄᴇ. I ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏ ʜᴀʀᴍ.” Her voice was soft but distorted, like multiple replays of the same person repeating a line several times, slightly out of synch.
“Harm I’m not so worried about,” he said, saving his place and putting his book aside. “You, though, you look like you’re here for a reason.”
He looked her over, attempting skepticism despite it all. She looked… human, or close enough. But then, so did he. She looked about the same age he did, an indeterminate thirty-something, young enough to be fit and energetic yet old enough to be taken seriously. Medium height, short black hair, maybe Chinese or Japanese or something. Dressed normally enough in a skirt, blouse, and scarf, save for a pair of goggles shoved up on her forehead that were definitely glowing from within. But up close she was slightly blurry, as if seen by a camera not perfectly focused, and the effect got worse when she moved.
Between that and the reverb on her voice, he hardly needed the demonstration of intangibility.
“Yᴇs. Mʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs Jᴇɴɴʏ Eᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ I ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇʟᴘ.”
He nodded, having expected as much.
“You’d best start from the beginning.” He made a gesture, offering a chair across from his.
“Yᴇs, I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ.” She sat down and continued, “Mʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪʟʟᴜsᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ. Yᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇs ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ.”
He nodded, She smiled.
“Gᴏᴏᴅ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴀᴠᴇs ᴜs ᴛɪᴍᴇ. Mʏ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴀᴍ ɪɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs. A Jᴇɴɴʏ ɪs ʙᴏʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴜs. Sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇɴᴇss ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs, ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢs. Wᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴍᴜsɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴠᴇs.”
“Sounds nice, I guess. So what’s the problem?”
“Tʜᴀᴛ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴇǫᴜɪʀᴇs sᴏᴍᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs, ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ Jᴇɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɴ ᴅᴏ, ᴀɴʏ Jᴇɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ. Iᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋɪʟʟs ᴏғ ᴀɴʏ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ-ғᴏʟᴅ. Fᴏʀ ᴜs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ɪs ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ, sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ.
“Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴍᴇ,” she pointed out. “I ᴀᴍ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇssɪᴏɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀɴ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜs ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɴ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ.”
“I was wondering, yes,” David said, nodding. “So, all this, why are you…?” He gestured at her, hoping she’d elaborate.
“Iᴛ ɪs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴅᴏ, ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴇᴘ ᴀsɪᴅᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ sɪɴɢʟᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ. I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ Jᴇɴɴʏ Eᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ; I ᴀᴍ – ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ – ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟ Jᴇɴɴɪᴇs, ᴇxɪsᴛɪɴɢ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇᴅ ʙᴜɴᴅʟᴇ, ᴄᴏɴsᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ sʜɪғᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ I ᴀᴍ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ Dᴀᴠɪᴅs ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’s ᴀʟsᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ. Lɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ɢɪᴠᴇs ᴜs ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴛᴀɢᴇs I ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs.”
“Hu, yes, I’d think so,” he agreed.
“Yᴇs. Tʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ. Iɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴀ Jᴇɴɴʏ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇɢᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴ. Sʜᴇ ɪs ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ sᴇʟғ, ᴛᴏᴏ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴛᴜᴅʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ I ᴀᴍ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ᴍᴇ, sᴛɪʟʟ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ sɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀɪʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀs ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs ᴅᴏ. Mᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ʙɪɢ sɪsᴛᴇʀs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ… ᴀʙsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ. Sʜᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ, ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ sʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴍs ʜᴇʀsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs.”
“You can’t do it?,” David asked, thinking this over. “You’re supposed to be her, more or less, you can’t help her?”
“Nᴏ! I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴀʀᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ. Tʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ sᴜsᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ Jᴇɴɴʏ Eᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ. Iɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. Iғ sʜᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ᴀᴍ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ.” The woman shuddered, her discomfort and fear obvious.
“For you or for her?”, David asked.
“Fᴏʀ ᴛʜɪs ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ.”
“Oy.” He thought to himself that he didn’t need this – but who did? “And you came to me. Not a bad idea, you could do a lot worse, but why me?”
“Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. Oᴜʀ ʙɪɢ sɪsᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ ʙʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ɪɴ ᴡᴀʏs ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ. Tʜᴇʏ sᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. I ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ sᴀᴠᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴏʀɴ.”
“Prophecies no less. This again.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully and asked, “Maybe you’d better know some of the why, being a messenger from outside the world and all. You know of the Tzadikim Nistarim?”
She raised an eyebrow in surprise, looked off into the distance for a moment, and nodded slowly. “I’ᴠᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ.”
“Right. Some parts of the world, they need protecting. Looking after. A helping hand now and then, maybe. So here I am, me and some others. Never too close, but in the neighborhood if we’re needed.
“I sᴇᴇ,” she said, understanding.
“And don’t go looking for the lamedvavnik,” he added, warning her, “some things are secret for good reasons.”
“As ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ,” she said. “Bᴜᴛ I ᴛʜɪɴᴋ I ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. Wᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ʏᴏᴜ sᴘᴏᴋᴇ ᴏғ.”
“Hu, yes, it sounds like it. So I need to find a dead woman, an eshet chayil to save the world, nu? Not that many who can lend a hand.” He shrugged expressively, then gave her a knowing smile. “But now that you mention it, yes. I think I know one who can help...”
