Free Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel by Maggie Anton Page B

As a matter of fact, I have a pot on the hearth right now for Elisha.”
    Rachel gulped. “Elisha’s sick too?”
    “He’s just a little warm, with some excess phlegm.” Miriam took in Rachel’s fearful expression and tried to sound calm. “With a diet of foods that are mildly warm and dry, to balance the cold and moist phlegm, I would expect our children, may the Holy One protect them, to be better in a week.”
    “Do you have enough broth for Shemiah too?”
    “Of course.”
    But things were not to be so easily mended. By the end of the week, all Miriam’s children were sneezing, coughing, and complaining how bad they felt. Meir sent word that his too were suffering the same malady, and that he was needed in Ramerupt to help Joheved care for them. Papa reported that few women were in synagogue these days; they were all home caring for sick children.
    At Rachel’s house, Shemiah was neither better nor worse, and his sister was ill as well. Little Rivka burned with fever and was so fussy that Rachel, who was nursing Asher every three hours, needed Mama to look after her.
    It was Mama who had the first inkling of what troubled the children of Troyes; that it was not merely a common case of excess phlegm. She was sitting at Miriam’s dining table after souper , trying to rock her cranky granddaughter to sleep while Miriam hovered over a pot of some new medicine. That’s when they heard the coughing sounds coming from upstairs.
    “Miriam, who’s making that noise?”
    “I’m not sure, Mama.” She cocked her head to listen. “It could be Elisha or Shimson.”
    A short while later, the coughing began again, although this time it seemed to be a different child. Mama left little Rivka in her cradle and rushed upstairs, Miriam and Rachel at her heels. They arrived in the boys’ room in time to see that it was Elisha whose body was doubled over in a coughing fit. He couldn’t seem to stop, and each spasm was followed by a strange hooting noise as he struggled to breathe in enough air.
    Miriam took her son in her arms and tried to soothe him, but his coughing continued until, with another desperate gulp of air, Elisha began to vomit. Rachel was terrified that he would choke to death in front of her, but his coughing spell eventually subsided. She began to relax until she saw the horror on Mama’s face.
    “Heaven help us.” Mama was clutching the amulet at her neck. “Shibeta has returned.”
    Once the three women were downstairs, Rachel turned to her mother, her eyes wide with fright. “You’re certain?”
    Mama’s chin began to quiver. “I’ll remember that sound if I live to be 120: the awful cough that goes on forever while she’s choking them, and then that dreadful yelp they make when she lets go for a moment and they try to catch their breath.”
    Miriam put her arms around their weeping mother, who continued, “You and Joheved were strong enough to fight her, to survive her nightly attacks, but not my little boy. For three months I thought I’d finally given your father a son, but Shibeta was determined to take him.”
    Rachel felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Shibeta! The only demon that new parents dreaded more was Lillit. Shibeta, who strangled infants and young children in the night. Shibeta was here in Troyes, in their own courtyard. “How can we fight her?” Rachel could not bring herself to name the demon. As she feared, Papa’s pious efforts had not prevented the Evil Eye from summoning her.
    Miriam stared at Rachel sternly, defying her to give up hope. “Like the Evil Eye, Shibeta is dry and cold. Keep a pot of simmering water on your hearth, and as soon as she attacks, bring a bowl of it to your child’s face so he can breathe in the steam.”
    “You can also use a steaming wet towel,” Mama added.
    “We must be diligent in our prayers,” Miriam said. “And give our children as much broth as possible so Shibeta doesn’t desiccate them.”
    “How long until she