Djinn
Copyright © 2006 - 2008 by Mitchell Allen
Originally appeared in a Homeschooling Project, November, 2006.
Burp! “Excuse me,” said David. “Mom, that was delicious!” Throwing his napkin onto his empty plate, David pushed his chair away from the table and got up. His father looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Ahem! I’ll have you know that I cooked that meal.”
“Gee, Dad. I didn’t think boiling noodles counted as cooking!”
David’s mother burst out laughing. “Now, now, boys. No teasing. David, we need some more flour and butter. Would you be a dear and pick some up before the dinner rush?”
“Sure, Mom! Dad, can I borrow the…”
“Boiling noodles, huh? I think you should walk to the market, how ’bout that?”
“Maaa….!”
“Jonathan! Don’t make him walk! We only have two hours to get today’s menu together!”
“Oh, awright.” David’s father tossed the keys to his son. “Drive carefully.”
“Thanks, Dad! See y’all in a few minutes!” David yelled over his shoulder as he ran through the restaurant doors.
David dashed to the car and got in. He loved driving the beat up old Ford, even though his friends teased him about it. He teased right back, telling them that they had to pay for their cars, while David’s family used the money they earned from the family restaurant to pay for theirs.
In fact, David would tell them, their families ate at his family’s restaurant, so they probably paid for his car, too!
That always shut them up.
Well, it worked with everyone except his best friend, Marty.
Marty would say something smart-alecky like, “Yeah, but we get to shoot hoops all summer, while you and your sisters wash dishes!”
If Marty weren’t his best friend, David would get angry. Instead, he just smiled and kept his mouth shut.
Now, carefully easing the car into traffic, David began to think about how weird Marty had become lately. He never hung out at the movies anymore and he didn’t call on Friday nights like he used to …
HONK! HONK!
David sat up straighter in the seat and paid attention to the road.
Wouldn’t do to get into an accident less than six months after finally getting his license. He would have to talk to Marty soon, though.
The supermarket parking lot was practically empty. Of course, it was only 3:30, so the evening shoppers hadn’t even left work, yet. David chuckled. Ahhh, to be in business for yourself! Sure, it wasn’t really his, but Mom and Dad said that if he and his sisters worked hard at it, they could take over the restaurant when they were older.
Neither Mom nor Dad knew about David’s plan, though. As he parked the car and walked into the supermarket, David went over his grand scheme in his head. Without realizing it, he began mumbling to himself:
“Need a good stage name. Merlin, Dave the Brave (that’s dumb), Zoombini the Genie, hee-hee.
“The Amazing Gene Cardini, ahhh, these suck!
“Should I get 25 pounds of flour? Oof, that’s heavy.
“Let’s get the butter. Better get the Butter.
“Better get the Butter so mom can make the batter.
“God, I hate when I babble like that.
“Focus, Dave, focus!
“Maybe Sandra can be my assistant. Or Betty.
“Better get the Betty before the Butter gets the Batter.
“Maybe get the Sandra since the brain will Wander.
“Darn it! Shut up.”
David, frustrated with his inability to concentrate, pushed the whole notion out of his head and marched determinedly toward the checkout counter.
“Mom, open up the door!” David pounded on the service entrance. He had driven around to the rear of the restaurant to deliver the ingredients.
“Coming!” shouted his mother. A split-second later, the service door creaked open and mother and son went to the trunk. “I hope the butter didn’t melt back there …”
David smacked himself on the forehead. “Duh! I completely forgot about the butter, Mom! I’ll just shoot back over there and …”
At that moment, David’s father stuck his head out the door. “Not in that car, you won’t. I need to get over to the bank before it closes. We need more cash on hand for the till.”
David’s mother groaned. “David, why can’t you be responsible. You know I can’t make the pasta without the butter! Now, I’ll have to use the butter I was saving for my cakes. No cakes, no desserts. No desserts, we lose money. Ya see how it works, son?”
“Dag, mom. I said I was sorry. Stop trippin’.”
“You watch your mouth, young man!” said David’s mother.
“Yes’m,” David muttered.
“Deena gets off work in about ten minutes,” suggested David’s father. “David, you call her and ask her to stop at the supermarket on the way.”
“Yessir! Right away, sir!” With a mock-salute, David rushed past his father into the restaurant.
“That boy,” sighed his mother. His father just shook his head. Together they unloaded the flour.
“Deena?” David stage-whispered into the phone. “Can you talk?”
“Stop playing with me, boy! I’m trying to finish up, here. What do you want!”
“Mom said you better pick up some butter so she can make her batter,” now why did I say it like that, David thought.
“Mom knows I’m in the study group until six. You go get it.”
“I can’t. She’s making me clean the ovens,” David lied.
“But, Darlene just did them two nights ago!”
“Obviously, Darlene did a lousy job. Now are you going to get it or what?”
“Put Mom on the phone.”
“She’s out back, unloading the …” David stopped, realizing his slip, but it was too late.
“Ha! You did it again, huh! You forgot the butter! Now you’re trying to get me to cover your butt again. Nope, nope nope. Not gonna happen.” With that, she slammed down the phone in his ear.
David thought about telling on Deena, but he decided to act grown-up about it. “Besides,” he thought, “Mom probably did forget about the study group. I’ll just call Marty. He can give me a lift.”
David picked up the phone again. While dialing his friend’s number, he thought again about how weird he had become. Of course, he wouldn’t bring that up, not now anyway.
“Hello?” Marty chirped.
“Marty, my man! What’s happenin’?”
“Dave, old fart. You got it, man! Wassup?”
“Need a lift to Superfresh.”
“Hooptie broke down?”
“No, my old man took it. Listen, just come get me.”
“Like, I ain’t got a daggone thing to do myself, huh?”
“Come on, man, this is serious! My moms is buggin’ out over some butter.”
“Awright, chill. Give me ten minutes.”
“Cool.”
An hour later, with a fuming David waiting out front, Marty pulled up to the restaurant.
“Hop in, dude!”
David glared into his friend’s car. Marty was acting like showing up fifty minutes late was the most natural thing in the world. It took everything he had to keep from yelling at his friend. God, he was acting weird!
As they set off for the supermarket, David changed his mind about not bringing up Marty’s behavior.
“Um, Marty?”
“Yeah, what?”
“I been wondering…”
“And I been workin’ on the railroad! So what?!”
“Ah, forget it! Always with the jokes!”
“Naw, man. You started it. whachu want?”
“Awright, awright, listen. You been actin’ kinda strange, lately. I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“‘Bout time you asked me. I was waitin’ for you to notice.”
“Huh?” David was confused.
“Look, what time to you have to be back? I want to show you something.”
“I guess an hour, why?”
“I just told you, fool! I want to show you something!” Marty spun the car through a red light, turning left one block before the supermarket. Annoyed drivers honked, but Marty paid them no attention. He sped down first one street and then another, until he pulled up in front of his house. “Come in.”
Up in Marty’s room, David sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the sheet and pillow piled in a bunch near the headboard. It creaked and sagged under his weight. He watched while Marty went to his closet and rummaged around beneath dirty clothes, schoolbooks and sports equipment.
“Ahh, here we go.” Marty pulled out an old teapot.
“What the …?” David looked at Marty like his best friend had lost all his marbles.
“Hush!” Marty put a finger to his lips. “Watch this!” He began rubbing the teapot.
David couldn’t help himself - he fell on the floor laughing. “Oh crap, you done lost your mind, fool! Who the heck are you supposed to be …” he never finished. At that moment, gray smoke shot out of the spout and swirled about Marty. David jumped up, eyes bugged out. The smoke slowly solidified and became what could only be described as a clay-like figurine. It had African features, including a turbaned head and flowing robes. It held a spear in its left hand and a rabbit in its right.
“Good day,” it spoke. The voice was deep, but feminine, like Louise Jefferson, thought David wildly.
“Masamba Hallambra,” intoned Marty.
“No, no. You’re supposed to say ‘Hasamba Mallambra’. How many times do I have to tell you!”
“Sorry,” mumbled Marty. “This is my friend, David, the one I was telling you about.”
The figurine turned toward David. “Good day.”
“Uh…,” stuttered David.
“You must not be nervous. I won’t hurt you.”
“Uh…”
“Marty says you are very intelligent. Right now, you sound like a gibbering idiot.”
“Uh … well, that is …
The figurine turned back toward Marty and actually raised one little clay eyebrow.
Marty giggled.
David looked at Marty, thinking, “he giggled! What’s that all about!”
Now Marty was rolling on the floor, laughing his head off. “Hey man, meet my djinn.”
“Your gin?” David asked. “You mean, you sit up here drinking alcohol?!!”
“No, fool! My ‘dee, jay, eye, en, en’ - djinn! She’s like, this spirit-being.”
“Oh, an African genie, huh?”
“Not African, Arabic. I got her from my great-grandmother years ago. She’s magic! Look!”
Now David glanced toward the djinn. Suddenly, the bed rose straight up into the air and floated.
David yelled, “Whoa!”
Marty explained, “All I have to do is think of something and she does it.”
Slowly the bed returned to the floor. As it sank, the sheets and pillow straightened themselves into a neatly made-up bed.
“Now, watch this!” Marty exclaimed.
The contents of the closet began moving around and organizing themselves into neat piles.
The dirty clothes were not dirty anymore and hung on hangers.
The basketball rolled into a corner, next to the football and boxing gloves.
The schoolbooks became two rows along the left edge.
Suddenly, the history book burst into flames.
David yelped.
Marty giggled. “I hate history.”
David had seen enough.
He was freaking out as he ran from Marty’s room, down the steps and out the front door.
He kept right on running - past Marty’s car, down to the corner, across the street past curious on-lookers.
He was still running when Marty pulled up beside him in his car.
“Get in, man.”
“No way! I’m through with you, you crazy bas…”
“Oh come on, it was just a hoax.”
“I’m not stupid. That was no hoax.” David was running out of breath, but still, he kept running.
“Awright, it wasn’t. Dag! I didn’t think you would be such a punk about it.”
“Punk this!” David made a mean gesture and took off down a side street.
Sweaty and tired, David trudged through the front doors of the restaurant with two bags filled with tubs of sweet butter. His younger sister, Darlene, who was setting the tables in the dining area, started to fuss at him for not being there to help out, but after seeing the look in his eyes, she kept her mouth shut and just watched him disappear into the kitchen.
The next day, David really had to clean the ovens.
He was being punished for his attitude the day before, as well as for not telling his mother where he was going.
Of course, he didn’t say anything about going to Marty’s house.
He was in enough trouble, already. This was the second Saturday in a row that he was going to miss hanging out with Sandra.
” I hate this crap!” he muttered.
Deena came into the kitchen. “I see your lies have caught up with you.”
“This ain’t abouchu, Deena. Unless you told on me, all’s I’m in trouble for is being out too long.”
“Well, I ain’t said nothin’. But, it serves you right. What goes around comes around. Next time, don’t be tryin’ to play me like that.”
“Dag, girl, all I asked you to do was pick up some frickin’ butter. Dad did tell me to call you!”
“Don’t say ‘frickin’! You know Mom hates that.”
“Mom hates what?” came a voice behind them. It was Darlene.
“Frickin’, frickin’, frickin’, frickin’, frickin’, frickin’! That’s what! Mind your frickin’ business.”
Just then, as it always seems to happen in these situations, their mother walked into the kitchen.
“My, my, my. My little boy is all grown up. His vocabulary is soooo impressive. He speaks so well! He speaks so well in fact, I oughta wash his frickin‘ mouth out!”
Both sisters spun around, looking wide-eyed at their mother. David gaped (busted!, he thought.)
Suddenly, their mother burst out laughing. “Look at y’all. Actin’ like y’all stole something!”
Relieved, the children started laughing, too.
David sat back on his haunches and put the dirty sponge down beside him on the floor.
He took in the scene - it made him feel good that he was able to get everyone laughing.
For some strange reason, it made him want to keep that feeling going.
He had no idea what to do or say, so he just enjoyed the moment.
“Back to work, young man,” commanded his mother in a mock-serious tone, “and I’ll thank you to keep your mouth as clean as that oven’s gonna be!”
Darlene cackled.
“And you, young lady. I need you to take the linens to the laundry.”
Darlene grumbled, gave a smart-alecky curtsey, and backed up out of the kitchen, bowing and scraping.
Deena frowned disapprovingly at her sister. “Those are the kinds of stereotypes we must fight every day. We should not be feeding into them!”
“BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!” yelled Darlene, David and mother.
They were sick of Deena’s Afro-centric diatribes. She could never seem to take a joke.
This time, it was Deena who grumbled, “Forgetchall, then! I got things to do. Mom, I’ll be back in time for this evening’s menu.” She followed her clowning sister through the door.
Alone with his mother, David decided to ask his mother if she knew anything about djinns.
Just as he was about to speak, she gave him the shock of his life:
“Oh, I know all about the fire-spirits, son.”
How did she do that?
“I am very close to the spirit-world.”
You are? But, how did you know what I was thinking?
“I can read your thoughts, when you let me.”
David recovered enough to blurt out, “How did you do that?”
“David, there are many things of which we know nothing.
“How does your heart beat? Where do dreams come from?
“Not knowing how a thing happens does not mean you can’t do that thing. Let me tell you a story.”
When I was a little girl (she began), I used to play in the attic of my great-grandparents’ house. There were so many things to play with, up there! Old gowns, floppy hats, walking sticks, broken phonographs - they called them Victrolas, back then - wooden rocking horses. There was even a dollhouse that was almost as tall as I was!
One day, I found a big old trunk. It looked like one of those treasure chests you see in the pirate movies. Of course, it was locked, but that didn’t stop your mom. I got a hammer and a screwdriver and I just pounded on that old lock until it popped open.
At first, I was afraid to open it, but something was telling me to go ahead. So, I did. And, you know what? It was empty! I was so mad, that I kicked it. Well, when I did that, the velvet covering on the inside of the lid tore loose and a little gold key fell out.
I was so excited, I didn’t stop to think about why the key to the trunk was locked inside the trunk! All I know, I was rubbing the grime off the key, when suddenly, out popped the ugliest little critter I ever laid eyes on.
I thought it was a mouse, so I started to come at it with the hammer. Don’t you know, that critter raised its skinny little arm and that hammer flew out of my hand! Because it all happened so fast, I didn’t realize right then that the critter caused the hammer to leave my hand. I actually thought I must have let it slip out of my hand when I raised it back to smash the mouse. Because I still thought I was trying to kill a mouse.
So I ran to get the hammer before the mouse got away. That’s when the hammer rose straight up in the air! Higher than I could jump. Finally, I guess I realized that something strange was going on.
I spun around to look more closely at the critter. It was pointing its hand towards the hammer, all the while glaring at me like I did something naughty!
After a few minutes of us staring each other down, I said to the thing: ‘Who are you?’
It said, ‘Good day. I have no name that you can use. Just call me with your key of binding.’
I had no idea what he was talking about. It sounded like a he, so I started thinking of it as him. So, I asked him what was this business about blind keys and he laughed at me!
‘Little one, you must learn to hear as well as see. I said key of binding. I am bound to the key that you hold.’
‘Oh,’ was all I could say.
‘If you don’t need me now, I must go away.’ And just like that, he was gone.
Of course, I had to rub the key again, and this time, I watched to see where he would come from. But it happened so fast, I never could figure it out.
David, he was angry with me for calling him without a reason. I didn’t know.
Every time he went away, I rubbed the key. He would come back and wait for me to ask him to do something. After six times, I finally caught on.
So, the next time I rubbed the key, asked him to make me a jelly sandwich.
In no time flat, there was a plate with a jelly sandwich on it!
I was excited! This was the greatest treasure I had ever found!
I kept that key for years, and I always used it for selfish things.
In fact, because of my selfishness, I lost the key forever.”
David was stunned. This was a side of his mother that he never knew existed. He couldn’t get enough of it.
“How’d you lose the key?”
“Well, when I was in high school, I had to take a class in Ancient History - you know, the Greeks and the Romans and all of their stupid wars.”
“Yeah, but what happened?” asked David breathlessly.
“It was the final exam. My teacher told me that I needed an ‘A’ to keep from failing the class. The best I could hope for was a ‘C’ grade, if I passed the exam with an ‘A’!
I was frightened. It would be the worst grade I had ever brought home. And you know how Grammy and Pappy are about education - I swear Deena takes after them.
Anyway, I couldn’t study, I couldn’t eat. I was a nervous wreck!
There was only one thing to do, but I had never done something so drastic.
I wanted my djinn to save me.
I could have snuck it into the class to take the test for me, but what was the point? I still faced getting a lousy ‘C’.
So, I came up with the craziest idea ever: the night before the exam, I walked to school, stood in the yard and rubbed my key.”
“Oh, God, Mom! what happened next?”
“My djinn popped out and said ‘Good Day.’
I said ‘Maleeka Basoomi’, which means something to him - I guess it is a respectful greeting, I never did ask him - and then I said ‘This school has to go.’
He squinted up at me and said, ‘What is this foolishness that you speak? This building has no legs! Do not waste my time!’
I realized that he had to have exact instructions, so I said, ‘MAKE THIS SCHOOL DISAPPEAR!’”
“For real?”
“Yes, for real. And just like that, the school was gone.
I was grinning like a maniac! I actually said out loud, ‘No school, no test. No test, no grade. No grade, no problem! Ha ha ha ha ha!’
The djinn tugged on my sleeve and said, ‘I must tell you something.’
I looked down at him and said, ‘Yeah, okay. What?’
‘You have committed one of the sins against Sulayman.’
‘Sue Lee Who?’
‘You know him as Solomon the Wise. He gave power to all fire spirits.
He commanded us to obey every order. He also commanded us to abandon any person who ordered us to violate one of his sacred oaths: first, that no djinn shall live after taking the life of another being; second, that no djinn shall serve a being who seeks to enrich himself unjustly; finally, no djinn shall serve a being who seeks to destroy an institution where others gain wisdom.
You have violated the third - and yet not the least - of these oaths.
Therefore, the key is to be destroyed, and I shall leave you forever. Good Day.’”
“Get out of here! So what happened next?” asked David.
“I’m not really clear on what happened next, but I must have fainted right there in the schoolyard.
When I woke up, the school was back where it belonged, and my precious key was gone.”
“Dag, that’s too bad, Mom. You coulda used that key yesterday to get some butter!”
“Well, David, it wasn’t all bad. I like to think my djinn left me with a gift.
A gift of second sight, with which I can see into the hearts and minds of all people.”
“Oh, like ESP? You gonna take Miss Cleo’s place?”
“Ha and ha, son. Go on, now. I’ll finish up this stove.”
“But, what about my punishment?”
“I don’t need to be psychic to know you’re pining for your friend. Go take her to a movie or something.
“THANKS, MOM!”
David gave his mother a big hug and a kiss and ran out of the back door, before she could change her mind.
The End
