Golem Forgets About Jack

Right off he forgot about Jack and, as things turned out, he shouldn’t have, because it was Jack who created him and, of all people, Jack knew what was capable of coming out of life. When Golem took it upon himself to wiggle up the roots of the tree of life, he hadn’t the background to know that now he was capable of good and evil, and knowing a lot about it, and that the two came together so much as to make it seem as if they were inseparable, and a couple of chapters later when he was on his knees on the page and made himself stand up, and as he started to grow in size until the one foot that was still connected to the paper (the other foot came dangerously near stepping in Golem’s morning bowl of oatmeal most mornings) started to take up a considerable amount of the page, the first thing he found himself staring at was two chicks on towels in nothing but the lower half of a string bikini so small that a fellow couldn’t make out what color it was, all dressed in oil under a noonday sun, and he started to feel another bulge that he had seen written in words but was only now coming to understand. There wasn’t any way he was going to go back down the rapidly closing tunnel in the page, and at that point, he wouldn’t have fit anyway. Well, he might have fit if it weren’t for his continuous erection. He might have been able for a moment to jump up and sort of shoot down vertically into the hole, but the way things stood now he most certainly would have gotten hung up on the rim. He looked around him and started making plans and that’s when, shortly before he died, Jack realized that he had to kill him off quick and shortly after realized that he couldn’t kill Golem off no matter what he tried. The guy was alive and plotting things on his own and no amount of written words with plot could kill a living entity that didn’t have at least one foot stuck in the book. So there it is — a book that pulled itself up by the extension cord and started to write itself and releasing characters out on the world to create havoc. The seeds were planted by Jack, but now a whole vinous jungle of things was sprouted, and there was no way Jack could prune it all practically, or keep things from getting out of hand. So you see that’s one way that Jack could say that some of it was a mistake. He was going to bring this issue up at the pearly gates; one spirit to another.
For now, Golem looked down and yawned. There weren’t any way he was going to believe any more of what he read about himself that he didn’t say himself, so for now he looked around at curves and spaces left open beneath bikini bottoms and skin and at a few topless things on the beach and absorbed the warmth of the sand and longed for a beer and wondered if maybe he couldn’t convince Jack to write in a joint somewhere.