by Lester L Weil
“’Jews bring the Plague’.” The Lord chuckled. “You did an effective job with your sermon yesterday.”
The Lord and the Bishop were watching the mayhem from the balcony of the noble’s town house. “You were formerly believed to have no talent for that.” The Bishop glanced at the Lord, but did not reply to the insult.
Below them, the butchers ran down the street, still wearing their bloodstained aprons as they chased after the Jew. Several carried knives while another held high his killing hammer. Not all of the stains on the aprons were from the animals of the slaughterhouse, but were fresh from the street carnage.
In the street lay the body of the rabbi, his yarmulke embedded in his skull from the force of a hammer blow. Close by lay the bloody body of his wife, while further up the street a large butcher disappeared between two buildings dragging the rabbi’s young daughter by her torn dress.
As they watched, the fleeing Jew staggered and fell. The butchers gave a triumphant roar and engulfed their victim.
“Ah. I see we both are now richer by the cancellation of debt.”
“My Lord. I…”
“Don’t pretend you weren’t in debt to the Jew,” interrupted the Lord crossly. “We both know what this is about.”
The Bishop wanted to respond, but remained silent.
After a moment, the Lord continued in a lighter tone. “Pity about the rabbi though. He was my only real chess opponent.”
Originally published in Doorknobs and Bodypaint 2000
Lester L Weil
Lester L Weil, an ex-professional bassoonist, ex-professor, ex-custom furniture builder, ex-house builder. He is retired in Arizona near the Mexico border.