Holy Cow by David Duchovny

Author:David Duchovny
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780374712891
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux

27

KOSHER KORNER

Shalom was in bad shape. Pigs don’t bounce back so fast, not known for their resiliency are pigs. They tend to roll in the deep mud. We had a few hours to kill before we had to be at the airport and we needed to pick up a few things, so I decided we should find Little Israel, the part of town that was heavily Jewish. I thought Shalom might be happy to get a taste of the world he was about to enter.

We found the neighborhood and popped into a clothing store to buy a couple of raincoats and some glasses and hats as disguises. I say “buy,” but we actually stole. It was easy, no one expects a cow or a pig or a turkey to steal a pair of Ray-Bans (product placement) and velvet shorts like the guy from AC/DC, so they look right through you and do not see you. People see what they think they’ll see and unless you do something really stupid, you can be invisible. Then we went into a bookstore and lifted some books on Judaism for Shalom and a Star of David for him to wear around his neck and a yarmulke for his head.

Shalom was perking up, smiling at the men walking by in the big fur hats and the women in the drab, colorless clothes. He started nodding at folks, and saying “My people!” and “Shalom, brother, Shabbat shalom” and a bunch of words I didn’t understand. People took a wide berth around him. The pig was right, these people did not want to touch him. They looked at him like he was crazy, and I’m not sure they were wrong.

A couple of wiseass kids flew by on their bikes, almost clipping us, and Shalom yelled, “You little schmucks!” He started using those foreign words, he called it Yiddish, but it sounded a lot like pig German, and I think he made it up like pig Latin. He spoke this Yiddish at passersby and a strange new accent subtly and then not so subtly took over his voice, like he was from Poland by way of Brooklyn. He said the kids were “meshuga.” At one point he yelled out: “Remember the six million!” He started complaining about the “goyim,” and that he was going to find himself a “shiksa.” I thought, Isn’t that a type of razor to shave with? A Schick? (Product placement.) What did I know, there aren’t a lot of Jewish animals in upstate New York outside the Catskills.

Shalom started dancing the hora and singing “If I were a rich pig, hamma deedy dada deedy dada dum…” from Fiddler on the Hoof. When he finished with that, he started in on any Barbra Streisand song he knew, and then it was on to the Neil Diamond songbook. No one seemed to care, though, not even the chair. Then, suddenly, Shalom stopped mid-Diamond.

Cliffhanger!!!

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