There was no answer to his question.
Only silence filled the garden, which was gradually turning black, and perhaps due to the aftermath of yesterday’s events, even the grasshoppers had scurried away, leaving the usual sounds absent. All that remained was the flickering light from the mansion in the distance, the sky stained red, and a surreal scene of spiders gathering as if the very atmosphere was being dyed.
Yet, in this soundless space, Jinseong asked once more.
“Who knows the One?”
Silence.
A chilling silence that felt as if the world of the dead had been pulled into existence. The mushrooms kept their mouths tightly shut, saying nothing, and even the branches that should have swayed eerily were controlled so precisely that not a rustle escaped. On the ground, trodden by a soldier’s foot, Jinseong’s weight pressed down, sealing his lips, while above, in the murky sky obscured by smoke, something that might have been a satellite or a star asserted its presence.
Jinseong, enveloped in that dreadful silence, asked for a third time.
“Who knows the One?”
Then, one mushroom opened its mouth.
“I know the One.”
A mushroom, puffed up to the size of a small person.
It wiggled its horizontally split gap like a mouth, and from the cross etched at what could be considered its forehead, a bright red liquid flowed ceaselessly. Like blood oozing from a wound, the liquid trickled down the mushroom’s stalk, and bizarrely, as the mouth-like opening grew closer, it suddenly curved away, refusing to touch the edge of its mouth.
“The One is the Great One. The One who resides above Heaven and Earth.”
The mushroom’s voice was deep and resonant. Unlike the joyless mushrooms that had appeared previously in Russia, not a trace of amusement could be found; only sadness and gravity dwelled within the voice. It sounded like a criminal in confession, and at the same time, a voice filled with remorse and an inability to express it.
Jinseong opened his mouth again.
“Who knows the Two?”
“I know the Two.”
Then, a second mushroom, side by side with the first, spoke up. The second mushroom also wiggled its split line, releasing a voice, and from the cross-shaped wound on top, it dropped beads of red liquid.
“Two tablets of the covenant. But the One is the Great One who resides above Heaven and Earth.”
And thus began a full-fledged exchange.
“Who knows the Three?”
“I know the Three.”
When Jinseong asked, the mushrooms answered in turn.
In the order they settled, the mushrooms opened their mouths, and as Jinseong spun around, they sequentially replied, forming blood droplet lines on the pillars.
Finally, when it was almost the turn of the thirteenth mushroom.
“Who knows the Thirteen?”
“I know the Thirteen.”
The thirteenth mushroom answered just like the preceding mushrooms.
“Thirteen attributes of the divine, twelve tribes, eleven stars, ten commandments, nine months before birth, eight days before circumcision, seven days of the week, six volumes of the Mishnah, five books of the Law, four attendants, three patriarchs, two tablets of the covenant, but the One is the Great One who resides above Heaven and Earth.”
Upon hearing this answer, Jinseong nodded, looking satisfied.
He then moved forward to stand before the fourteenth and fifteenth mushrooms.
He leaned in suspiciously, examining the two closely, and glanced around at the other mushrooms as if unsure of what was happening.
Then he shouted.
“I ask. From One to Thirteen. From Thirteen to One. Only with those numbers can a hymn be made complete, and now, having added to that number. Who knows the Fourteen?”
At that, the mushrooms opened their mouths in unison.
“I do not know the Fourteen.”
“I do not know the Fourteen.”
“I do not know the Fourteen.”
“I do not know the Fourteen.”
Twelve mushrooms claimed they did not know.
But the sixth mushroom did not echo that cry, and only after the others had finished speaking, it opened its mouth to say.
“I know the Fourteen.”
The sixth mushroom spoke amidst the flowing blood.
“The Fourteen is the Unholy. It is that which touches the corpse and is thereby defiled, that which has kept the defilement for seven days, the Father of Defilement (אב הטמאה).”
As the words ended, the snail pattern engraved on the large mushroom began to squirm. The design crawled in varying sizes and shapes according to the twisting movements of the mushroom and, as if alive, began to slither downward.
Downward.
Further down.
And finally, propelled by the twisting and shrinking movements of the mushroom’s body, the pattern reached the mouth’s location and overlapped with it, devouring the horizontal mouth and eliminating it entirely.
Seeing this, Jinseong opened his mouth again to ask.
“Who knows the Fifteen?”
“I know the Fifteen.”
Thus, the snail wiggled its antennae, moved, and elongated its body. It split itself in two to create a gap, and from within, it opened its mouth while emitting a dreadful stench of rotting flesh.
“The Fifteen are those things made unclean through me. Those that receive my seed, grow large, and spread defilement all around. They are the children of Defilement (ולד הטמאה).”
As the words finished, the surrounding mushrooms all retreated from the two. Unlike before when they were huddled together, they now formed a circle around the two, using their two white tentacle-like limbs as legs to move in a dance.
Jinseong slowly moved in circles around the mushrooms, rubbing their stalks with his hands until his entire face turned bright red, and drew dots where they were visible in between. After performing this same action on the thirteen mushrooms, he grabbed black ink and sprinkled it over their faces.
Then, stepping outside the circle drawn by the mushrooms, he said solemnly.
“With faith, I say it is only through faith. Defilement is unclean, and the unclean is that which is forbidden. By the grace granted to us in the name of the Great and Unique Divine with four letters, it is our rule.”
Jinseong spoke like a preaching pastor.
“O believers! There exists that which the Great One has not permitted, and that is the flesh of dead animals, blood, pig, and the meat not sacrificed in the name of the Great One!”
Upon hearing Jinseong’s words, the faces of the mushrooms began to change.
The two unclean mushrooms at the center, while twisting their bodies, began to alter the cross shape that had once been inscribed within them. This figure now appeared a bit deformed like a cross, and it resembled a crudely drawn crescent moon.
“I ask. What is it that must not be eaten as food?”
When Jinseong inquired, the mushrooms continued without ceasing their spinning.
“Things that were choked to death.”
“Things that were beaten to death.”
“Things that fell and died.”
“Things that fought and died against each other.”
“Things that had parts eaten away by other wild creatures.”
“Things offered as sacrifices to idols.”
“Things shot with poisoned arrows.”
In response to the mushrooms’ answers, Jinseong said.
“That is right! O faithful ones, these are unclean things and must under no circumstances be brought to your lips. Those who reject faith will fear you and try to offer sin, so you must only fear the Great One and must not fear them!”
With that shout, Jinseong lifted the leather he had gathered into the air.
Then he threw it onto the two mushrooms at the center of the circle, wrapping it around them, and lifted strands of straw to bind to the position of their mouths.
Finally, he took a long stick he had prepared and set it ablaze.
The stick, wrapped in oil-soaked cloth, flared up mightily, and in the center of the garden where not a breath of wind stirred, as if toyed with by the invisible hand of someone, it moved to and fro, casting shadows. The torchlight illuminated the garden, while the mushrooms danced in a circle, and beneath them, the two bound offerings were cloaked in dark shadows.
Jinseong approached the burning torch toward the mushrooms.
Then, the mushrooms extended their white stiff branches as if waiting in anticipation, and Jinseong brought the torch to them, setting the flames alight as one would with a candle. The tips of the branches ignited with small flames, and soon they blazed in a rush, growing to the size of the torch as if made of oil.
After performing this same work on all mushrooms, he squeezed in between them and began to move in a circle, sometimes dancing and sometimes shaking the torch to induce the shadows to dance. As the circle grew smaller, he would wield the torch as if threatening the mushrooms, and when he stepped back, he displayed movements that seemed to entrust himself to instinct.
And as these actions continued, the smell emitted from the offerings at the center intensified.
The stench of rot filled the air, along with a dreadful odor one would expect from wild animals, and compounded by the smells of urine and feces. It was so strong that it numbed the nose and filled the mouth with a revolting taste, even causing headaches.
Jinseong continued to spin while bearing that smell for quite some time.
And finally, when the stench completely vanished.
Thud—boom!
Jinseong struck his torch down onto the ground with all his might.
The mushrooms, too, followed suit and slammed their burning arms against the earth.
Thud—boom!
The sound of the empty vessels resonated as it spread.
The impact between the fire and the ground caused a burst, erasing any trace, and the sparks leaped to the sky, emitting their final light. The mushrooms crumbled one by one, as if they too had fulfilled their role and soon dissipated into a handful of blood, seeping into the ground.
But unlike the other mushrooms, these two did not emit any smell of blood, nor did they stink, merely shrinking down to the ground, while the leather wrapping around them became crumpled and tangled, forming some kind of shape.
That shape appeared to resemble a wild boar.
From the mouth-like part of the boar-shaped figure, it kept regurgitating the traces of the now-bloodied mushrooms, and the dark red liquid, nearly black, seeped into the ground the moment it exited the boar’s mouth, disappearing utterly.
Jinseong moved closer as the boar expelled all the liquid. He then lifted the offering, which had turned into a mass of leather the size of a human head.
The skin that should have felt smooth instead felt stiff and coarse, and with eyes reinforced by magic, he saw that an unidentifiable sticky liquid and strands of straw were mixed together, forming something resembling fur.
The leather mass was rather heavy, and each time it was shaken, there was a sloshing sensation.
Jinseong, gauging the amount of liquid remaining inside by the sound, turned and headed back to his room.
In the place Jinseong returned to, only the faint smell of blood and the scent of beasts remained.
