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  • A Fish StoryFound in The NY Times, 2007
  • Jane Shore

They're still debating whether or notit was God revealing Himself that dayto the two fish cutters in the Catskills.Mr. Luis Nivelo, a born-again Christian,was lifting a live 20-pound carpout of the box of iced-down fishand was about to club it on the headwhen it began to speak Hebrew.

The shock of a fish speaking Hebrew—or any language, ancient or modern—threw Luis against the wall and downto the slimy wooden packing cratesthat covered the cutting room floor.He looked around to see if the voicehad come from the slop sink,or the shop's cat. But it had not.

So he ran to the front of the store,screaming, "It's the devil! The devilis here and he's speaking in tongues!"blubbering and genuflectingin front of his boss, Mr. Zalman Rosen,a Hassid with eleven children."You meshugeneh!" yelled Mr. Rosen."This fish I must see for myself."

But as he approached the giant carpflopping on the stainless-steel cutting table,he heard it muttering and shoutingapocalyptic warnings like the prophetElijah—an Elijah with fins and gills."The end is near!" the fish yelled.It next commanded Mr. Rosento pray every day and study the Torah.

The fish identified itself as the soulof a former customer, a piousHasidic man who'd died, childless,the year before. He'd often bought carpat the shop to chop up and grind intogefilte fish for Sabbath meals for the poor.He said that to be reincarnated as a fishwas an honor. At that, Mr. Rosen panicked,

hacking at the fish with a machete,but it wiggled and bucked so wildlyMr. Rosen sliced his own thumb insteadand was taken by ambulance to the ER,leaving Luis alone to mind the store.Mr. Rosen gone, the fish flopped offthe counter and back into the carp box;quickly butchered by Luis, and sold.

Was the talking fish a rare glimmerof God's spirit, or a warning aboutthe coming war in Iraq? Was it a hoax—a Purim prank? Some doubters saidthe story was about as credibleas the Burning Bush or sighting a U.F.O.,and can't be verified, since the proofhas long been eaten up. Or it's a miracle.

Two men do not dream the same dream.But when they do, you cannot ignore it.Both men still stand by their story,which they are only too happy to repeat,beside bins of sturgeon, tuna, mackerel,and kippered salmon in gold-foil skinslined up on ice-beds like Dead Sea Scrollsbeneath the sign—"Our fish speaks for itself."

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