The Call. Michael Grant

of earthworms before it settled down and became hair.

      Mack whistled softly. There was no doubt in his mind that this, this, this… thing… was related to the ancient man with the ancient smell.

      “I’ve finally gone crazy, haven’t I?” Mack said. “I guess it was just a matter of time.”

      He had the absurd thought at that moment that he still had homework to do. It was right there on his desk.

      “Dude. Or whatever you are… actually, what are you? Let’s start with that.”

      “I am a golem.”

      “Gollum?”

      “Golem.”

      “OK. How do you spell that?”

      The golem raised its eyebrows, which kind of stretched its eyelids upward, revealing more eyeball than was right. “G-O-L-E-M.”

      Mack sidled past the creature and slid into his desk chair. He opened his laptop and clicked on the browser icon.

      He typed the word golem into the Google search box. The first hit was Wikipedia.

      Mack scanned down the page.

      “You’re Jewish?” he asked the golem.

      “I’m whatever you are,” the golem answered.

      “But golems, they’re a Hebrew thing, originally. An incomplete being made of clay.”

      Mack was just beginning to get the idea that having a golem could be useful. He hadn’t quite worked out how, but he was sensing an opportunity there.

      “Do you have superpowers?”

      The golem shrugged. “I am made to be you.”

      Mack pushed back from the computer, swivelled his desk chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

      “Why are you here?”

      “I am here to replace you.”

      That didn’t sound good. “Um… what?”

      “While you are away, I will take your place here.”

      “Am I going somewhere?”

      The golem smiled, revealing its creepy tooth thing and a hint of the little paper scroll. “You are going everywhere.”

      

      he golem was supposed to spend the night on the floor beside Mack’s bed. Mack had sneaked an extra blanket and one sheet from the linen closet in the hallway. But when Mack woke up the next morning, he was looking at the golem.

      It took him a few seconds to become oriented. He swatted the sheets beside him to ensure that he was in fact lying on his back – that he was face-up and that his eyes were pointed in that same direction.

      The golem was awake, too.

      “Dude. Golem. Why are you on the ceiling?”

      The golem was apparently quite at ease on the ceiling. He was lying on his back, mirroring Mack. But not quite directly above because there was a ceiling fan in the way.