TEAR OUR GODS TO BITS

Suddenly the wooden door to the side chamber opened, and an older woman stepped inside. Yael froze, standing in the murky tub as she had been reaching for the linen towel.

The woman was holding a massive bucket of water, and she did not react to Yael’s nudity nor the filthy water now in the tub. Instead she set her bucket down, locked the door behind them, and rolled her sleeve up.

“Well, step out, my dear. I need to drain it and refill it so you can get properly washed.”

Yael stepped out, gray drops running down her legs onto the wood-slatted floor. She made sure to step away from the clean clothes and the towel, watching the woman as she stepped closer to the bath. She kept her distance from Yael.

“I suppose you wouldn’t have had plumbing that far north back then, but even my village had pipes and water as a girl, and that was some forty years ago. But yours was nearly twice that, wasn’t it? Anyway.” She reached right into the filth and pulled the drain, the water swirling away.

“We didn’t have any pipes like that,” Yael replied, voice still trembling slightly. Not from fear, but from being kept inside for so long. “But I could have figured it out.” She referred to the handles the woman was now turning, refilling the tub with clear water.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She did not seem so. Yael couldn’t blame her. She was sure she looked like some feral beast, barely able to speak. And she hadn’t even tried to turn the handles, to be fair, barely even noticing them nor the faucet, only focused on her own skin.

“Who are you?” Yael said instead, hands crossed limply over her nakedness. She thought of the stream where she had gotten water. It was easy enough to be sent there by her father with a bucket. There was no one and nothing to kill in that stream.

“Miryam Rivkovna,” the woman replied, testing the temperature with a hand before looking back up at Yael, still apparently completely unconcerned with the fact that she was nude.

“What village are you from?” Yael tried next. Perhaps she would know it.

“Orenah. I left that place a long time ago.” Miryam wiped her hands on the front of her apron, which looked fairly pristine otherwise. “You are from Tovetz, aren’t you?”

Yael flinched at the name. She knew of Orenah, but Tovetz she wished to remain a distant memory. Did it still exist? Had the fire claimed it all? Had it been abandoned in fear of her? She did not ask.

“Yes.”

Miryam’s mouth twitched, and after a moment of watching Yael, she gestured to the tub. “Well, get in. It’s a bit cold now, for rinsing. A sort of banya, if you squint.”

Yael had never been to a banya. They were public, and she could be near no one. It was that simple. Her father had tried to build their own behind the house, but he was never very good with his hands, so it became a shed for wood in the end. He purchased a brass tub for the house instead.

She got back in the water without another word, kneeling and using the fresh water to rinse the remaining gray droplets from her skin and hair. When she stood again she really did feel clean and refreshed, and Miryam was waiting to hand her the linen. Yael clammed up again, still in the water.

“Set it down, please.”

“You can take it from me. We won’t touch.”

Yael grimaced, feeling suddenly very tired. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

“Oh, I am, dear. But I’m intelligent enough to realize that you aren’t trying to kill me, and if we don’t touch, you won’t. Just grab the fabric and nothing will happen.”

Yael didn’t bother mentioning that it wasn’t that simple. She didn’t have the energy. She reached out and ripped the linen away as quickly as she could and began drying herself off, stepping out of the tub to finish her legs. Once she was dry she took the comb and carefully untangled her hair. It had been years, before the grave, since she had used a proper comb and not her fingers. She just couldn’t get one, and she didn’t exactly have the tools to make one. She wasn’t going to sneak into some home in the night to steal one either.

Only when she began dressing did she feel suddenly embarrassed by Miryam’s eyes on her.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Miryam raised her brows. “My dear, I heard tales about you when I was a child. It’s fascinating to see someone who could be my own mother and my own daughter simultaneously. I don’t especially care that you’re naked.”