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Chaykele and Hershele

By Leah Vincent · July 21, 2011 · Fiction

credit: tori wright

Once upon a time, a little girl named Chaykele and a little boy named Hershele lived in a small cottage at the edge of the woods. Their father had died when they were young, and their mother had recently married a new man.

“This is your new father, children,” she said to Chaykele and Hershele. “His name is Unnamable Father.”

Unnamable Father had a knotted, greasy beard and he wore a creased black coat that was stained with ketchup. He smelled like boiled turnips and dirty diapers.

Chaykele and Hershele tried to be polite.

“Hello!” they said.

“Grrrrrrr…” their new father grumbled with a mean frown.

Soon, Chaykele and Hershele’s mother went off on a long journey.

“Be good to Unnamable Father!” she said. “And if you ever walk in the woods, make sure you stay on the path! There are dangerous wolves hiding in the trees!”

“We’ll stay on the path!” Chaykele and Hershele promised as they waved goodbye.

“It’s time to wash the floors!” Unnamable Father told them.

“But we want to play!”

“Wash the floors or you’re going to burn in hell forever!” Unnamable Father threatened, waving a stick in the air.

Chaykele and Hershele became very frightened. They dropped their toys and ran for the mop. Quickly they washed the floors.

“Now dust the chairs!” Unnamable Father commanded. Chaykele and Hershele were going to say they were tired, but Unnamable Father waved the stick in the air, and so they scurried off to dust the chairs.

After they dusted the chairs, Unnamable Father made them wash the dishes and weed the garden and clean the fireplace and scrub the tub and change the light bulbs  and bleach the toilet and organize the closet and file his taxes and darn his socks and wash his clothes.

“Please, Unnamable Father,” Chaykele whispered. “We’re very tired. We’ve been working for days and our fingers are bleeding and our knees are raw and we’d like to go to sleep, it’s way past our bedtime.”

“ROOOOOAAAAAAAR!” Unnamable Father roared at the children. “No! Now it’s time to go for a walk on the path. But don’t you dare go off the path – there are wolves in the woods!”

Chaykele and Hershele followed Unnamable Father on the path that led through the woods. They were so tired, every part of their body ached. Even though they were exhausted, Chaykele and Hershele were very careful to walk in middle of the path, avoiding the grass on either side. They didn’t dare look between the dark trees around them.

“Hurry up, you slowpokes!” Unnamable Father snarled as he strode along.

“You know what,” Chaykele whispered to Hershele. “I’m kinda sick of this bullshit. I’m going to go off this path and run away from Unnamable Father.”

“But what about the wolves?” Hershele gasped.

“I’ve never seen any wolves,” Chaykele shrugged. “I’m going. Are you coming?”

Hershele shook his head fearfully. Chaykele gave him a hug goodbye, and then she ran off the path.

Chaykele stumbled through the dark woods until she came across a large, dog-like animal smoking a fat smelly cigarette and snorting sugar up his nose.

“Yes?” the animal demanded.

“Are–are you a wolf?” Chaykele asked.

“What the fuck you think?” the animal replied. “Shit. You sure are one stupid bitch.”

Chaykele decided that meant he was a wolf, so, a little bit frightened, she backed away and kept on going through the woods.

She walked and walked and walked, enjoying her freedom, napping in the grass when she got tired, picking berries for lunch and whistling to the bluebirds that chirped on the branches.

Soon she came across another large, dog-like animal. This one was reading a book while humming Vivaldi and eating an avocado sandwich on whole wheat toast.

“Ehm, excuse me sir?”

The animal looked up from his book.

“Yes?”

“Are you a wolf?” Chaykele asked.

“Why, yes, I am,” the animal answered. “What are you?”

“I’m a girl,” Chaykele told him. “I wandered off the path and I’m exploring the woods.”

“How lovely,” the animal said. “Would you like me to show you around?”

“Yes, please,” Chaykele said. So arm in arm they strolled through the woods, and the wolf showed her all the best burrito joints and how to fill out a college admissions form and bought her a copy of “Our Bodies, Our Selves”.

“Where are you from?” animals would sometimes ask Chaykele.

For a while, she’d say, “I wandered off the path,” but then she realized how fucking provincial that was. There were a million paths in the forest, and a billion trees and fields and lakes around them. She wasn’t off the path. She was in the woods.

“I’m from the woods,” she began telling people. “I live in the woods.”

And Chaykele enjoyed her life in the woods, and the company of her new wolf-friends and the freedom of her new life. Once she caught a nasty cold and sometimes she missed Hershele and then, her wolf-friend, whom she had begun sleeping with, dumped her for a blond chick from Greenpoint, but still, in the woods there was always a new adventure to be had, a new animal to meet, a new opportunity to create her own happiness.

Meanwhile, in the small cottage at the edge of the woods, Hershele lived with Unnamable Father, doing as Unnamable Father demanded. As time passed, Hershele came to respect Unnamable Father. Hershele admired the fierceness of Unnamable Father’s personality. Hershele appreciated how much he had learned about the art of darning socks, and the details of Personal Tax Law and the field of chemical compositions in dishwashing detergent and bleach and ammonia, over the course of doing his chores.

As Hershele grew older, he established himself as an expert on household cleansers, with a specialty in the cleaning of impossible situations involving nonexistent creatures. He won the Flying Spaghetti Monster Award for his multi-volume scholarly treatise entitled “Effective Removal of Unicorn Shit Stains from Invisibility Cloaks, Should Unicorns, Invisibility Cloaks, and a Chemical Solvent Called Ridiculosum Exist.” His life was full, between his academic pursuits and his never-ending daily household chores. Hershele almost completely forgot about his sister Chaykele.

One bright summer afternoon, while conducting online research for a new paper tentatively titled “How One Might Wash the Cutlery of a Wolf King, if Said Wolf King Produced Green Glittered Permanent Staining Saliva,” Hershele, contemplating wolf species, was suddenly struck with a sharp memory of his sister’s smile. He thought with sadness about her assumed death in a wolf’s jaws. A single crystal tear welled up in Hershele’s left eye. It rolled down his cheek, heading straight for his laptop, as if with a mind of it’s own. Touching the keyboard, the drop splattered into a shallow puddle of sadness.

I wonder how I might clean the keyboard, if my tear was the tear of a wizard, a wizard whose tears had the properties of Elmer’s glue, and if all of the cleaning supplies in the world were suddenly unavailable, except for half a toothpick and a spoonful of Tide?
Hershele wondered.

Before he could formulate a hypothesis, his train of thought was interrupted by Unnamable Father’s bellowing from the other room. Hershele left his thoughts to hurry off and prepare Unnamable Father’s breakfast of licorice baked beans, fried strawberry kishka, and Marmite.

~ ~ ~

One bright spring day, Chaykele and her new wolf-friend named Derek had brunch with a big group of their wolf, pig and goat friends at the new little Italian bistro that had opened down by the creek. They laughed and chatted and ate mini-french toasts, while debating Nigerian politics and planning an upcoming fundraiser for victims of domestic violence. After brunch, Chaykele and Derek took a long walk through the woods, arm-in-arm, breathing in the cool forest air and enjoying the sunshine.

Suddenly, Chaykele and Derek came upon a familiar small cottage.

Unnamable Father was sitting on a rocking chair on the porch, cramming potatoes into his mouth with his fingers. The ground around Unnamable Father’s feet was scattered with cigar butts and broken chicken bones.

“Oh, how quaint,” Derek exclaimed. “Let’s go speak to the charming old man.”

“No, no!” Chaykele hissed, pulling on Derek’s jean jacket, “let’s run away as fast as we can.”

But Derek just patted Chaykele on the arm, and approached the cottage.

Unnamable Father looked up at the two of them. He didn’t say anything to Chaykele but he smiled at Derek.

“Welcome,” Unnamable Father said to Derek. “We are all one family. Come inside, and have some mustard apricot kugel.”

“Don’t go!” Chaykele whispered to Derek. “He’s a bad man!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek said to Chaykele. “Don’t you see? He’s perfectly delightful.”

Derek followed Unnamable Father into the cottage, with Chaykele trailing behind.

Inside the cottage, Hershele was frantically trying to defrost the freezer, while balancing all of its contents in his arms, shoulders and lap.

“I—I’m sorry it’s taking so long, It will be all clean soon, I promise,” he stammered with fear when he saw Unnamable Father.

Unnamable Father curled his lip in disgust and clenched his fist. Hershele bowed deeply, almost losing a frozen Cheerios casserole that was balanced on his elbow, which he recovered with a frantic shaky grab.

“Dude, that’s so frickin’ neat!” Derek said to Unnamable Father. “He actually, like, bows to you!”

Unnamable Father turned to Derek and winked.

“Kinda cool, huh?” Unnamable Father said.

Derek leaned over to Chaykele and whispered, “Man, I love this guy. He’s, like, totally awesome.”

Chaykele thought she was going to hurl.

Then Hershele noticed Chaykele. Hershele blinked, first once, then twice, then three times. He wasn’t sure what to say. He looked at Unnamable Father.

“Grrrr…..” Unnamable Father snarled at him. Then Unnamable Father winked at Derek again.

“We’re all about love and acceptance,” Unnamable Father said to Derek.

“That’s so beautiful, man,” Derek said.

“Our crime rate is zero,” Hershele whispered as he wiped down the insides of the freezer.

Unnamable Father picked a turkey knuckle out of his beard and looked pleased.

“And we are so content,” Hershele continued with sadness in his eyes. “Everybody in this home is always happy and cheerful.” A tear welled up in his eye and Chaykele watched it drop to the floor.

“And we help one another,” Hershele continued as Chaykele slowly backed out the front door. “And the whole world admires us. And those who don’t are simply envious of our beautiful lives.”

“And anyone who leaves us,” added Unnamable Father, “is bitter and sad and angry and miserable.”

Through the small windows of the cottage Chaykele saw Unnamable Father laugh heartily. And she saw Derek slap Unnamable Father good-naturedly on the back before picking up a bottle of dishwashing detergent and heading to the mountain of dishes in the sink.

Tags: fairytale, parable
Recovered from the Wayback Machine (copy of 2014-03-20). Original page in the Wayback Machine.

30 Responses

Suri · July 21, 2011 at 8:56 am

Good parable.

Gutman Braun · July 21, 2011 at 9:08 am

mamash a gevald

Shpitzle · July 21, 2011 at 10:11 am

Dr. Leah Suess, you need an illustrator!

Baal Habos · July 21, 2011 at 10:35 am

I luv it, I luv it, I luv it!

tayqoo · July 21, 2011 at 11:51 am

you must be an ainekel of the dubner maggid.

Justin · July 21, 2011 at 11:56 am

Incredi-fucking-ble
Loved the Journey song reference o tear rolling down check headed straight, etc

ksil · July 21, 2011 at 12:02 pm

i wonder if i printed this (and exed out the bad words) and showed it to my Rov if he would even get it.

seriously

Samuel Katz · July 21, 2011 at 12:09 pm

The Borhters Grimm now have a sister!
Really enjoyed it.

Toeh Pastovich · July 21, 2011 at 5:42 pm

Great piece, but the vivid food descriptions left me gagging!

Baal Devarim · July 21, 2011 at 5:43 pm

Wow. Absolutely incredible and enjoyable and funny. Quite something.

lel shishy · July 21, 2011 at 6:14 pm

Why isn’t Derek put off by the smell of boiled turnips and dirty diapers?

charlie runkel · July 21, 2011 at 6:53 pm

stupid makes no sense one bit

Hakuna Matata · July 21, 2011 at 9:15 pm

I guess given that most fathers are not at all like Unnamable Father, the “we help one another” argument is not that fallacious. And, I guess given that most kids who roam wolf infested forests are indeed eaten, Hershele’s choice of the lesser of the two evils is actually quite the path to choose.

Jake · July 21, 2011 at 9:48 pm

Hakuna Matata, you’ve missed the point. The story is clearly a parable about modern day ultra orthodox jews’ relationship to god and religion. The Unnamable Father is “Hashem” not a literal father.

chaim sofek · July 22, 2011 at 12:23 am

at least you can hear the unnameable father speaks what there are some others you can’t even hear only 3500 years ago

Kafhakela · July 22, 2011 at 3:28 am

Off topic, I thought I’d share this with the chevra here.

George Carlin on God: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeSSwKffj9o

Hakuna Matata · July 22, 2011 at 12:23 pm

No Jake, you, missed the point. Hashem exists in our minds in various anthropomorphic forms. Non of us has the same Hashem. But the Unnameable Father in his black smelly coat as presented here, invoking imagery that that was last used by Herr Goebbels, is not someone most people are familiar with.

God exists mostly so that humans can make sense of mortality, loss and calamity. Mentally stable human beings are adept at feeling that God is on their side. That is why he exists.

GigHauser · July 22, 2011 at 4:38 pm

Great story! But i have a few questions:

What happens when Chaykele grows up and realizes that when Unnameable Father told her to eat her apricot smurf chulent it was in her best interest?

What happens when she finally sees that the boiled turnip was, in reality, an important vaccination that she passed up on just because it smelled bad?

What happens when it starts to rain and she wishes she was back under the shelter of the cottage?

What happens when the wolf finally decides he’s hungry enough to eat her ass?

What then?

Lemme know.
p.s. Truly an amzing piece of writing.

kafhakela · July 22, 2011 at 5:18 pm

GigHauser: You’re buying into Unnameable Father’s scare tactics. He has been claiming all along that the apricot smurf chulent is in her best interest, the boiled turnip was an important vaccination, when it starts raining there will be no other shelter other than the cottage, and the wolf might get hungry enough one day to eat her ass. But where’s the evidence to all of that? There isn’t a shred of it. On the contrary, the wolves, those terrifying scary creatures which were supposed to have eaten her up as soon as they would find her, turned out to be nice and friendly. Harmless. So now Unnameable Father is telling me that one day the wolf MIGHT get hungry… and I’m supposed to believe it? For all I know, Unnameable Father is the one that has been whipping my ass for years now…

GigHauser · July 22, 2011 at 6:04 pm

Proof is in the purple radish pudding :-) One thing is absolutely proven and that is the wolf will get hungry and he will eat her. Maybe not now, maybe not in 10 years, but we always get eaten no matter if we’re on the path, in the forest or the jungle. Look at history. It probably does come from UF, but maybe it’s because we didn’t stay on the path. Or maybe because we couldn’t agree on which path to take or where it started and ended. Who knows. Good journey.

Sam · July 24, 2011 at 4:27 pm

Incredible parable. Bravo!

Der Bik · July 26, 2011 at 10:02 am

I would like to point out that if Communist-sympathizing liberals and the crypto-Muslim Stalinist revolutionary they elected as president, aka Obama, had not forced their big-government tax-and-spend Let’s-Hate-Jesus-and-Spit-on-Capitalism “ecology” propaganda into American elementary schools, then we would not be having the *huge* explosion in the birth-rate of DANGEROUS WOLVES in North America.

The ONLY reason Chaykele was dumped by her wolf “friend” for that blonde in Greenpoint is that Christianity-hating and abortion-loving “environmentalists” have made it ILLEGAL for DECENT and NORMAL AMERICANS to buy and use the kind of weaponry necessary for killing lots of “endangered” wolves, such as surface-to-air missiles and fragmentation grenades and Claymore mines, and so now we have MILLIONS of “endangered” wolves running around our once-great democracy and eating LOTS of American children, even young adults who have abandoned frumkeit.

So, if you are thinking about maybe “escaping” the confines of your nightmarishly insular and unbearably narrow-minded chassidische community to explore the flimsy delights of the secular goyische world, please remember that because of the Communism-friendly Democrats and their pro-planet “environmentalist” co-travelers, you will NOT be able to buy or own a “bunker buster” missile or a rocket-propelled grenade launcher or any of the other useful weapons that the ANTI-GUN LOBBY has made illegal for NORMAL AND PATRIOTIC AMERICANS to own, so that you will DIE from BLOOD LOSS because you have been bitten MANY TIMES by an “endangered” wolf!

Think about it!

Justin · July 26, 2011 at 5:56 pm

Der Bik;
Thought about it. To me, aside from being twisted and absurd, your argument appears to fail to follow any linear logical path of reason. Do me a favor and repost your comment, just replace the analogous parabolic parts with your clear ideas so we may at least understand your viewpoints, however warped they may be.

itchemeyer · July 27, 2011 at 8:14 am

@hakuna matata and @jake:
The father imagery is not just supposed to represent God. Consciously or not, the author did a good job of mixing in fear based authoritarian households. That’s why people who go off the derech do so even though they fear the outside world so much. The point isn’t what idea of God you believe in. The point is that the home-life and sometimes the culture is unbearable.

Leah Vincent · July 27, 2011 at 8:24 am

The deliciousness of Fairy Tales is that, like dreams and modern art, they can mean so many things depending on your own perspective.

I definitely meant “Unnameable Father” to reference “Hashem” (‘the Name’ – ironically, a non-name), the god construct of ultra-orthodox Judaism. But he can represent other ideas as well, including authoritarian fathers in that community, who so often mirror their idea of “Hashem” in their parenting.

itchemeyer · July 27, 2011 at 11:07 am

Imagery is associative. That’s why fairy tales work on ‘different levels’, because they evoke emotions (for example, fear) associated with the base images (wolves) and more specific ones (goyim).

I think that people mirror their idea of God to their idea of authority more than the other way around. God is a relatively advanced condept, it’s theoretical. To a child, it mirrors reality. My father is kind, so is my view of God. My father is abusive and selfish, so is God. Weak, strong, happy, sad ,mad, all mirrored.

Ambreen · July 28, 2011 at 1:10 pm

I liked the parable very much.however, I was waiting for the Unnameable father killing Derek..that would have been a perfect ending!

I don’t think the Parable is meant for GOD. Our relationship with God is open to interpretation as individuals. However, the leaders in our communities( I say communities, cause this is true in all religions) take religious structure to impose tradition and control, which has nothing to do with faith. Faith is a beautiful thing! It was faith that kept Chaykele in high sprits and alive..it gave her the courage to walk away from abuse and live life in a unique way. FAITH keeps hope alive. Fear is the opposite and causes death, hate and isolation of the human spirit and humanities biggest enemy. In all honesty! I have found GOD to be LOVE and FORGIVENESS…Hate is with us, in our hearts we let Hate fester through anger and forgiveness…Evil is the bi-product of Hate, Greed and Sorrow! Which is what will probably happens to the Brother when he grows up..lets not blame GOD for our own weaknesses and inequities. I have known abuse as well..but in GOD I have always found love, hope and forgiveness…The moral of the story…anyone can escape the control of whatever it is…an abusive relationship, religion, or society to find their own identity in the woods of life..All you need is Faith:-) xoxox

Farchapt Innetz · July 28, 2011 at 8:51 pm

Great article!!!

The problem with Unnameable father is that everyone calls him with the name “they” think is most fit, that’s why it’s a little hard for people that use their brain unbiased to figure out if it’s real or not.

Rebrad · January 22, 2012 at 3:22 pm

Thanks for pointing me to this fairy tale. You know who you are.

feefifo · September 22, 2012 at 10:33 pm

unfortunately for you, you are trapped in the resentment you have built up towards Hashem for so long, and instead of learning about Him with objectivity from a point of view you had thus never encountered, you think the limited minds of others in the forest have the answers for you, did you ever think that the one with all the rage and roars is you?

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