Haman In Heaven

Jewish World Review /March 1, 1999 / 13 Adar, 5759

Where the Book of Esther ends, this short story begins. ...

While Jews celebrate the evil Haman going to the gallows, in this original, our own Yaacov Luria imagines him -- can it be!? -- in heaven.

Haman in Heaven

By Yaacov Luria

T WAS A slow season in Heaven. The Celestial Court being between seasons, the Heavenly Harmony Quartet was seated on stools under great billowing clouds and getting in some licks for the annual Purim concert.

Michael was at the lyre, Uriel at the harp, and Raphael doubling at the timbrel and the cymbals. Gabriel was blowing a mean ram's horn and giving the beat to the combo. He was grinning happily, for they were really in the groove. This was the coolest Rachmunis Rhapsody ever.

uddenly, the mists around the malachim (angels) parted and revealed a group of strangers coming toward them. There was an even dozen in this group --- an older man and woman, and ten males who looked similar to both.

Gabriel cut short a C sharp trill and blew his breath out in annoyance. Looks like a population explosion. Who can it be?" he wondered aloud.

"We can't accommodate them. They have no business coming here without reservations," muttered Uriel.

"We can manage to put them in one of our lower stratosphere annexes overnight. We've got our reputation to consider. Heaven Hospitality, ya know," Gabriel reminded him.

y this time, the newcomers were close enough to be scrutinized. Such sad faces were rare in Heaven. And their clothes! Robes of a color once known as "royal purple," but so faded and ragged and old-fashioned now.

"These birds have been knocking around for quite a while," Michael whispered.

"Somewhere with a tropical climate," quipped Raphael.

Gabriel drew himself up to his angelic grandeur and intoned,"Shalom Aleichem (Howdy, all)."

The man kept his eyes lowered to a cloud below, but did not answer. The woman stared bitterly at the angels. Anyone could see what a hard time her husband had had.

"We gave orders that we were not to be disturbed. Didn't they stop you at the gate?" Gabriel demanded.

"We snuck in the back way," he mumbled. For a moment he raised his eyes. The angels caught their wicked gleam.

"Who are you, anyway?" asked Gabriel.

The man bit his lip and muttered something into his beard that sounded something like "Hamaddy."

"SPEAK UP, MAN!" commanded Gabriel.

The woman poked the man in the back and hissed: "Did I marry a shlemiel! Where's your tongue?"

he man gulped once or twice and then stammered, "I am Haman, the son of Hamedatha the Agagite."

There was a rustle of amazement among the angels. "Who?" they chorused.

"Not Haman-the-Evil!" cried Gabriel. The man nodded and buried his face in his chest.

Gabriel whistled. "Well, this is a surprise. We never expected you here."

"No wonder he looks wilted. I told you he came from a warm spot." Raphael chuckled.

"He hasn't had it so hot though, I'll bet," Uriel smirked.

Gabriel silenced them with a flash of his eyes. "That will not pass for Heavenly humor," he chided.

This is my wife, Zeresh, and these are my sons," Haman bleated.

"I divined as much," Gabriel said dryly. "I'm quite familiar with the Book of Esther, thank you very much."

t the mention of Esther's name, Haman winced. He licked his dry lips, then muttered. "The Queen was my ruination, ya know. She tricked me into overdrinking at her party. And before I knew what was happening, it was off to the gallows with me and my boys!"

Gabriel smiled. "You're just telling the tail end of the Megillah. How 'bout the beginning of it?"

Zeresh shook a long, bony finger at her husband.

"If only you'd listened to me! I warned you it was dangerous to pick on the Jews," she shrilled.

Haman shrugged. " You spoke up too late, Zeresh, my love," he reminded. "But I won't quarrel with you. It's all in the Book of Esther --- the whole megillah and all."

"And it's a mighty sorry record, indeed," Gabriel said, sternly.

"I won't argue with that," Haman muttered.

"Well then?" asked Gabriel.

For some moments Haman just stood glumly.

t last, he blurted out: "How long must I go on paying for my crime? I can't even remember how long ago it happened, but at least 25 centuries must have gone by. Haven't I been punished enough already?"

"What punishment could be severe enough to fit your crime?" thundered Gabriel,"You were willing to destroy an entire people just because a single man offended your pride!"

aman lowered his head. "True, I had bad intentions. But what came of them? Only good."

"Good?"

"The jolliest of Jewish holidays. The Purim feast and mishloiach manois (Purim baskets) and hamantaschen pastries -- named after me, mind you -- and Jews drinking until they can no longer tell my name from Mordechai's."

"If you had your way, Purim would have been a day of mourning, I bet."

"But consider the way it turned out. I and my sons were hanged, but the Hebrews had "light and joy and gladness."

"Only because you were thwarted."

Haman's eyes turned craftily on Gabriel.

"Strange thing, you know, the story doesn't mention your G-d at all. But wasn't I chosen to bring about a happening with a happy ending?"

Zeresh's face wrinkled in scorn. "A fine reward you've had for it too! Your name has been hissed and hooted and stamped at from one end of the world to another."

"It looks to me as if you've come here to pleabargain," mused Gabriel. "When you say you were chosen, you're raising an old, old question all over again. G-d is no dictator. He runs a tight ship, but He lets people make their own decisions. Otherwise, nobody could be held responsible for what he did, no matter how horrible."

aman looked mystified. "My head's swimming. My IQ was never my strong point," he said "I just want to throw myself before the High Court. You Jews have a word for it, rachmunis. I want to beg for rachmunis.

At the mention of the word, one of Haman's sons squirmed like a tadpole in a fishbowl. "Rachmunis!" he cried. "Wasn't that the Rachmunis, Rhapsody you were just beating out?"

Gabriel nodded. "You were sure with it," said the son. "There's a combo called the Leaping Flames that raps it out down our way."

Gabriel smiled and turned back to Haman. "Why don't you come back when the spring session of the Court convenes? Around Passover time. It's a happy session usually. I can tell the Court to expect you."

aman and his flock were getting ready to descend when Gabriel called, "Just give yourself every benefit, you ought to bring a good lawyer with you."

"Who do you recommend?" asked Haman.

"Well Moses," by all means, if he'll take the case. Or Solomon. Actually, Alan Dershowitz would be keen. I'm sure you heard down there about his OJ role and everything. But he's not due to leave Earth for some time. But, then again, you've already waited so long, anyway. What's a little more waiting?"

Gabriel grew thoughtful after the visitors had gone. "You know that Haman is making a bid for clemency," he said. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least if next, Pharaoh and his Red Sea Regiments showed up shortly. And very likely for the Passover Session, too."

JWR contributor, Yaacov Luria, is the dean of Jewish-American columnists.