Читать книгу Pigs In Paradise - Roger Maxson - Страница 18

When Rabbi Ratzinger returned, along with members of his congregation, he was prepared. His congregation opened umbrellas against the possibility of falling objects or projectiles. They did not need to worry, though, for none of the fowl was around to make an impact. They knew what had been done was done.

Not knowing this, the rabbi and company stepped cautiously under tightly held umbrellas through the cow-pod spewed minefield of the barn lot and approached the once-great bull at the watering tank. The rabbi intended to reverse the curse that he had placed on the bull, now steer, ten months and three days before. He wished to formally forgive the bull, now steer, of his sins, and to restore him to his former glory with the help of G-d, and a miracle. “We are sorry, dear sir, for the mistake made against you. Please accept our humble apologies, and give of yourself once again to the Jersey cow,” Rabbi Ratzinger said in earnest. “We resend the curse put upon you, and wish you only good, and to return you to your former greatness. You shall no longer suffer an eternity as a result of our insolence and intolerance. Therefore, it is no longer deemed an abomination against G-d, nor a deed punished, for all is forgiven. You shall once again take up your rightful place, and go where you please, and with your masculine pride intact do what you please with whomsoever you please, please. Hence, go forth once again recognized on this, the Perelman moshav, and all moshavim of your presence, and be fruitful and bear gifts of offspring, and to offer that progeny as an offering to the Jewish people, and the world. Let us pray for the safe return of the missing testicles to their rightful place and ask G-d for the forgiveness of those short-sighted enough not to have known the consequences of their previous actions and wrongdoings against this great creature. Oh, dear Lord, please, unto this bull we ask that you undo our wrongs, and pardon him, this great and powerful Simbrah Bull who is, now as then, without sin. May the Lord return his name under the sun, make his presence known again, his seed fertile, repair the cruelest of cuts, and repair him, and his undoing to his former self among his people, his fellow-creatures, particularly his fellow cows. May they love him from this time forth to eternity as we reverse all curses of the firmament which are written in the book of the law and forgive him his transgressions.”

It was believed by the faithful since the bull had once mated with the Jersey, and as a result of their labors had brought forth a red calf, they could again, as long as he was returned to his former glory with his gonads intact. Unfortunately, it was too late for any of that. Bruce stood between the water tank and the gate he had once broken through, and the fence which now he rested against.

Bruce yawned.

The two American ministers were amused. They stood at the fence near the road and, from a distance, watched as the reverse-the-curse prayer service took place in the barn lot. The old black and gray mule passed by inside the fence and grazed along the fence nearby. From the hayloft, Julius, while clutching a paintbrush in his left talon, saw the expressions that ran across the faces of the three laborers, which he noted, and would remember for another time, but for what he didn’t yet know.

The laborers, embarrassed, their heads tilted, sheepishly stole sidelong glances at one another, adverting the rabbi’s and each other’s stare, for they knew where those gonads had gone, and no matter how earnestly the rabbi prayed, or the male congregation rocked and wailed, no miracle was going to return those gonads to their rightful owner. They were not going to grow back, come back, or be returned, for the three laborers had feasted on the rich delicacy only a few weeks before. Not two shared among three but a platter of many. For their labors, the laborers had amassed an impressive assortment of sheep, pig, and cow testicles. Once collected, peeled, egg and flour coated, salt and pepper added for taste, they were deep-fried to a golden brown. Then as an appetizer as Rocky Mountain oysters, or as the laborers preferred, swinging beef tips, along with a cocktail dipping sauce, served before the main dish of roast goose. “I have one for you, Hershel,” the youth minister said.

“What’s that, Randy?”

“A joke, but Catholics don’t much care for it. It’s about their beloved Virgin.”

“Let’s have it,” Reverend Beam laughed.

“When the Archangel Gabrielle visited the young virgin with the proposition of becoming impregnated by the Holy Ghost, she asked, ‘Will it hurt?’ To which the Angel replied, ‘Yes, but just a little.’ ‘All right,’ answered Mary, the little strumpet.”

In some cultures, among certain peoples of the world, particularly those who lived along the Ohio River Valley and Appalachia in the Southeast United States, it was believed that ingesting cows’ brains or pigs’ nuts would make one smart. It was also believed among the people of Appalachia and along the Ohio River Valley that they were God’s chosen, and heaven was theirs alone.

* * *

Scrambled eggs in America

From the Ohio River Valley region and along Appalachia, a rich delicacy of calf brains was highly prized and often served with scrambled eggs. And bovine spine, brains, and gonads were often eaten, along with pig and sheep nuts, rounding out the top ten dishes that were believed to make a person smart, but with caution, not to eat too many. In this part of the country, regardless of the organ served, whether cows’ balls or brains, the dishes were often collectively called “cows’ brains.” Therefore, a dish of scrambled eggs served with cows’ brains was a euphemism used to protect their young against the nuts and bolts as it were of the vulgarities of the nuts and balls that were being served up on their platters.

As with many people across the face of the earth, the three laborers considered a battered platter of calf or pig or sheep nuts a worthy dish to ward off the ill effects of impotency. Consuming the gonads of a male mammal, it was believed, would repair the gonads of the male mammal eater. The three laborers ate plenty. They feasted on swinging beef tips, believing that the more they consumed the better the aphrodisiac. Therefore, as reality would dictate, Rabbi Ratzinger and his congregation, no matter how earnestly they prayed to G-d, no miracle was going to reverse the curse and return those gonads.

The American ministers, unlike the Asian or the nomad, knew they would one day enter the kingdom of heaven for a life spent groveling at the imaginary feet of Jesus. Unlike others, Jews, Muslims, or Chinese, the ministers knew not only did they have God on their side, but by virtue of their resemblance to the Lord, they were His precious chosen few. They were content, waiting for the triumphed return of their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

“How could these people ever think they’d be allowed into heaven?”

“Who,” Randy said, “the Jews?”

“Any of ‘em,” Reverend Hershel Beam said. “I mean, where does it say in the bible any of these people, people heaven?”

“I don’t know, the Old Testament?”

“Well, it doesn’t. Take my word for it.”

“Well, then, thank goodness.”

“No, Randy, thank God.”

The Thai laborer, like his American counterpart, didn’t need an education he thought as he took a shovel from the shelf and commenced shoveling sheep shit from the stalls. Unlike their American counterparts, though, the laborers had most of their faculties and senses about them and were under no delusion of an afterlife in another realm. They weren’t even white, so how could they possibly even think they’d be allowed into heaven reserved for good, Christian folk anyway? Any good Christian Fundamentalist knew this, for the Bible told them so.

At the edge of the village, Muslim men sat perched on the hill overlooking the farm below with the sheep, and their little lambs, along with the goats, grazing in the fields, the fields of goat and sheep and little lambs, and knew where their next feast was coming from. It was the end of Ramadan and the eve of the joyous three-day celebration of fast-breaking called Eid al-Fitr, which meant trouble for the animals of the moshav, for the Muslims were in a charitable mood and hungry too. It was sundown. Several men struck matches to the ends of cigarettes.