Rosalie was the oldest of seven sisters, and got the prettiest name. She got the prettiest face too, but she turned down all the men who came asking. She said they were all too independent-minded to be good husbands. Finally, when all her sisters were married and Rosalie still wasn’t, she said she’d make a husband for herself.
Next day, Mister Shem came to call. Mr Shem was tall and well-built and a nice sort of red-earth colour, and he wore a carnation on his lapel and had his hair down almost over his eyes. Rosalie took him in to meet her daddy and said this is Mister Shem, and he’s new in town and he’s a good worker and he wants to marry me. Isn’t that right, Mister Shem?
Rosalie’s daddy knew what was what, and he said you tell me Rosalie, is this man here a golem, and did you make him yourself? Rosalie frowned and her daddy said, babygirl, you can’t just make a person, that’s not right. And Mister Shem, how do you feel about all of this? But Mister Shem only blinked and looked at him, and Rosalie said I want a man who’ll do what he’s told, and what I’m telling you both is we’re going to get married this weekend. So that was that.
There weren’t any children, of course, but they had a big old house and a nice garden. Mister Shem did everything Rosalie said, and maybe they were happy together, and maybe they weren’t. When she died, everyone thought Mister Shem would crumble. But instead he left town in the middle of the night, and was last seen by Alberto Rosencrantz boarding a train to San Francisco, with a light in his eyes like no-one had ever seen.
Jude Mason is a Yorkshire-based writer who is convinced most problems can be solved by spending more time talking to cats.
No comments:
Post a Comment