Genies, Meanies, and Magic Rings, page 4
“Why?”
“It gives me great pain to say this,” said Abu Keer, “because I used to know the man, but it’s all a plot against Your Majesty’s life. He wormed his way into your favor, built the bathhouse, and got you to enjoy the baths—all so that you’d trust him. It’s a setup. The next time you go there, he’s going to have an evil potion ready for you. He’ll call it massage oil. But it’s really poison. It will make you scream with agony, and within the hour you’ll be dead.”
“But why would he want to kill me?” asked the king.
“Well,” Abu Keer said, “it’s like this. Four years ago this villain and I went on a business trip to Spain, with his whole family. While we were traveling north, we were captured by the king of the Christians. But because the king saw that I have a very honest face, he let me open a dye shop. And, of course, he was so amazed at the quality of my work that he gave me my freedom.
“So I returned to Alexandria and then came here to your illustrious city. To my surprise, whom did I run into yesterday but this villain, Abu What’s-his-name! He told me that shortly after I left, the king of the Christians had a big meeting and let all the prisoners attend. The meeting was about you, Your Majesty. The king said that you were his enemy, and that you were a dangerous man and an infidel, and that if anyone succeeded in killing you, he would be given whatever his heart desired. This Abu What’s-his-name stepped forward and volunteered. The deal is this: If he kills you, the king of the Christians will set free his wife and children. And tomorrow is the big day,” he said. “If it weren’t for me, Your Majesty, and if it weren’t for the great love I bear you, I’m afraid your goose would be cooked.”
“I don’t believe it,” said the king. “He seems like such a kind man.”
“He’s cunning. Very cunning, Your Majesty,” Abu Keer said.
“I still can’t believe it,” said the king, shaking his head.
“If I’m lying, Your Majesty,” said Abu Keer, “may God strike me dead on the spot. Just go to the baths and see if he doesn’t try to rub you with that evil-smelling poison! That will be the proof.”
Chapter 11
The next morning the king went to the bathhouse.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Abu Seer said.
“Good morning,” said the king.
“This morning I have a special treat for you, Your Majesty.”
“Oh?” said the king.
“Yes, it’s a wonderful massage oil we used to have in Alexandria. It will make you tingle all over.”
The king took one whiff of the oil and shouted, “Guards! Seize him!”
They grabbed Abu Seer and tied him up. Then the king called for his admiral.
“Take this villain,” said the king. “Stuff him in a bag, fill it with rocks, and throw it into the sea! The sooner the better!”
“Aye-aye, Your Majesty!” said the admiral. “And where in the sea would you like him thrown, Your Majesty?”
“Right outside my palace,” the king said. “I will be sitting in the window, waiting for you to row by. Just shout up to me, ‘Now?’ And I will shout, ‘Now!’ Then you can heave him in. And I hope that he drowns slowly and painfully.”
Chapter 12
The admiral took Abu Seer to a small island facing the king’s palace, untied him, took the gag from his mouth, and said, “Tell me, old friend, what in the world did you do to deserve this punishment?”
“As God is my witness, I don’t have the faintest idea,” said Abu Seer.
“Hmm,” said the admiral. “Either you’re lying, or the king has gone crazy, or someone is plotting against you.”
“I can’t understand it,” said Abu Seer, with tears in his eyes.
“Well,” the admiral said, “I have seen court politics, and it looks as if there’s foul play going on here. Someone’s trying to ruin you—probably someone who envies your success. I believe you, so I’m going to let you go, even if I am risking my life by doing it. You just lie low on this island. Don’t let anyone see you. We’ll stop the first ship that docks here and send you off on it. No one will ever know.”
“Thank you, dear friend,” said Abu Seer, kissing the admiral’s hand. “But what will you tell the king?”
“Oh, I’ve got that figured out,” the admiral said. “I’ll just put a large rock inside the bag, a rock as big as a man, and throw that overboard.”
“Ah,” said Abu Seer.
“One more thing,” said the admiral. “One of my jobs is to provide fish for the royal kitchen. But with this errand, I’m not going to have time for fishing today. Would you do me a favor and go out with this fishing net? You’ve been lucky once today; maybe you’ll be lucky again.”
“I’d be glad to,” Abu Seer said, taking the net. “And I’ll remember not to let anyone see me.”
The admiral found a huge rock, put it in the bag, and sailed in front of the window where the king sat.
“Now?” he shouted.
“Now!” shouted the king, with a flick of his hand. The movement was so abrupt that it shook loose the magic ring on his middle finger, and off it flew, down into the sea.
The king knew he was in trouble now. If his enemies found out that he had lost his magic ring, they would realize that he had lost his power, and they would arrest him and put him to death.
Chapter 13
Meanwhile, Abu Seer was having wonderful luck. Every time he pulled in his net, it was full. By now he had a large heap of wriggling fish in front of him.
“I might as well have one for lunch,” he said to himself, and he chose a nice fat fish. He cut off its head, but when he slit its belly, his knife hit against something hard.
That’s strange, he thought, and opened up the fish. There was a ring inside its belly.
Beautiful! thought Abu Seer, and he put it on, without knowing that it was the magic ring.
Just then, two cooks from the royal kitchen arrived.
“Hey, you!” they shouted. “Where’s the admiral?”
“He’s not here,” Abu Seer said.
“We know that, you moron. Where has he gone? He’s supposed to give us some fish.”
“Oh, he went that way,” said Abu Seer, pointing toward them. Immediately both their heads fell off. They hit the ground with a thud, rolled a little, and stopped.
Dear God! Abu Seer thought, feeling very sorry for them. What in the world happened?
Soon the admiral returned. He saw the dead bodies of the two cooks, with their heads lying a few feet away, and he saw the ring on Abu Seer’s finger.
“Stop! Don’t move your hand! The one with the ring on it! If you do, you’ll kill me, too!”
“I won’t make a move,” said Abu Seer.
“Take it off, right now, and put it in your pocket!”
Abu Seer took off the ring.
“Ah, that’s better,” said the admiral, with a sigh. He guessed that Abu Seer had found the magic ring, which somehow had fallen off the king’s finger and dropped into the sea.
“Take me to the king,” Abu Seer said.
“Certainly,” said the admiral. “You have nothing to be afraid of now. In fact, if you want to, you can kill the king and the whole army as well, and be king yourself. Just put on the ring and point at them.”
Chapter 14
He took Abu Seer to the throne room. The king looked very anxious. His brow was furrowed, and he kept his hands hidden behind his back.
“My goodness,” said the king. “Didn’t we just throw you into the sea? How did you escape?”
Abu Seer told him the whole story: how the admiral had saved his life, how the fish had swallowed the ring, how he had cut open the fish and put on the ring and accidentally killed the two cooks, and how he was very sorry about that but he hadn’t known what he was doing. “Anyway, Your Majesty,” he said, handing over the ring, “I wanted to return this to you. You were always kind and generous to me, except for our last meeting, and I wanted to show you that I’m grateful. And if I have offended you in any way, please tell me. I have thought and thought about it, but I still can’t understand why you were so angry at me.”
As soon as the king put the ring back on his finger he felt much better. He walked up to Abu Seer and embraced him.
“Anyone but you would have kept the ring for himself,” he said. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“You’re very welcome, Your Majesty,” said Abu Seer. “But please, tell me what my crime was.”
“Oh, I know now that you are innocent,” the king said. “Only an innocent man would return this ring.” And he repeated Abu Keer’s accusations.
“That massage oil?” said Abu Seer. “But it’s perfectly harmless. It may smell bad, but it feels wonderful. And, anyway, it was Abu Keer’s idea to use it on you.”
Then he told the king the whole story: how Abu Keer had sponged off him on the ship and in the hotel, how Abu Keer had taken his money and left him sick and helpless, and how Abu Keer had insulted and whipped him in the dye shop.
The king was furious. He had his guards arrest Abu Keer and bring him to the palace.
“You monster!” the king shouted. “I am going to have you stripped naked and whipped in front of your own shop. And I will personally rub that massage oil into your wounds, with a little salt and cayenne pepper sprinkled in. And then I am going to have your mouth sewn shut so that you can’t tell any more lies. And then I’m going to have you stuffed inside a bag and dropped into the sea. How do you like that?”
“But this is absurd, Your Gracious Majesty,” Abu Keer said. “It must all be a terrible misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding, my eye!” said the king.
“Please, Your Majesty,” Abu Seer said. “I have forgiven him so many times. I beg you to forgive him just this once.”
“Of course I will forgive him,” said the king. “After he’s dead.”
So the guards hauled Abu Keer away.
“Now, my friend,” said the king, “ask me for anything you want.”
“Well, Your Majesty,” Abu Seer said, “what I’d really like is to go back to Alexandria. Not that I don’t love it here in your beautiful city. But I’m a little homesick.”
“Of course,” said the king. “I understand.”
And he gave Abu Seer a ship filled with gold and jewels and precious rugs and commanded its captain to take Abu Seer straight home.
Three weeks later, when they landed in Alexandria, they found a large bag washed up on the beach. Inside it was Abu Keer, dead. They buried him near the beach. Abu Seer had a gravestone carved for him that read:
HERE LIES ABU KEER.
AS A MASTER DYER, HE MADE NO MISTAKES.
AS A FRIEND, HE MADE MANY.
MAY GOD SHINE INTO HIS SOUL.
Aladdin
and The
Magic Lamp
Chapter 1
A very long time ago, in a city in China, there lived a poor tailor with his wife and his only son, who was named Aladdin.
Aladdin was a very brave, intelligent boy, but he was also headstrong and disobedient. His father wanted him to follow in his footsteps and become a tailor. But Aladdin wasn’t interested. “Someday I’m going to be rich and powerful,” he would say. “And then I won’t have to earn my living with a needle and thread. Just wait and see.” His mother and father would shake their heads and tell him that he was a dreamer. “You won’t be able to support yourself if you don’t learn a trade. Be a good boy and forget these foolish thoughts.” But Aladdin could never be convinced.
Instead of spending his days in his father’s shop, he spent them in the streets with a gang of unruly boys. Aladdin was the ringleader. They would play games all day long: games with balls and sticks and stones, team games and games for two players, games of running and jumping and crawling and rolling and climbing, games in which you had to balance things on your head or your big toe or on the end of your nose, games in which you had to remember long lists of things or invent new names for the most everyday objects or insult your friends just enough to make them laugh and not get angry, games of hide-and-seek, games with pebbles as pieces that they played on an old chessboard someone had found leaning against the wall in an alley. Aladdin was usually the winner in these games, because he was smarter and faster than the rest of the boys.
When they got tired of the games, they would make up little dramas and act them out. Actually, it was Aladdin who would make up the dramas and assign all the roles. He would always assign the leading role to himself. He would be the king or the emperor, and the other boys would be his servants or his enemies.
When they got tired of the dramas, Aladdin would come up with a scheme for a great adventure that usually got them into trouble. He would dare someone to steal a peach from the grocer’s stand (it had to be while the grocer was watching) and then to run around the block and put the peach back onto the peach pile before the grocer or his dog could catch up. Or he would lead them to some rich man’s door, and they would all stand in front of it, singing and screaming at the top of their lungs, and when the rich man’s butler opened the door, they would laugh and run away. One time they found a sheet of heavy gray paper and made a pair of ear flaps out of it, then stuck the flaps over the ears of the mayor’s horse when no one was watching. The horse looked like a huge, long-nosed rabbit. They laughed so hard that they could barely remain standing.
Aladdin’s parents were very disappointed in him. They called him a lazy, disobedient good-for-nothing. They were sure that he was going to end up as a beggar in the streets.
After his father died, his mother sold the tailor’s shop and bought a spinning wheel. She made just enough money spinning yarn to eke out a living for herself and her son. There was barely enough to get by on, but she could almost always put a little food on the table when Aladdin came home. He showed up twice a day for meals. That was the only time he saw his mother. He was never rude to her; on the contrary, when he was with her, he was respectful and affectionate. But he never paid any attention to her constant nagging that he should get a job.
One day when Aladdin was ten, as he was playing with the other boys in the street right outside the candle maker’s shop, a stranger walked by, stopped in front of them, and began staring at Aladdin. The stranger was a tall, dark-skinned man with a long nose; he was dressed in white robes, and on his head he wore a white turban.
This man was a powerful sorcerer who had come from the faraway land of Morocco. One day, six months before, during a magic ritual, he had seen an image of Aladdin’s face in the center stone of his crystal necklace. He then learned that Aladdin was the only person who could hand over to him the most valuable treasure in the world, a treasure he had been trying to locate for a dozen years. Now that he saw Aladdin, he smiled to himself. Finally I’ve found the filthy little ragamuffin! he thought. All I have to do now is persuade him to come with me. That should be a piece of cake.
The sorcerer walked into the shop and said to the candle maker, “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” the candle maker said. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” said the sorcerer, and he pointed through the open doorway to Aladdin and his friends. “Do you know those boys?”
The candle maker leaned over the counter and looked out the open door. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “I know the little scoundrels well. They are always getting into trouble.”
“Do you know the one in the middle?” the sorcerer asked.
“You mean Aladdin?” said the candle maker. “He’s the biggest troublemaker of them all. But he’s a very bright little fellow, and for all his mischief, he has a good heart.”
“So Aladdin is his name,” the sorcerer said. “And what is his father’s name?”
“Oh,” the candle maker said, “his father died three years ago, God rest his soul. His name was Ismail. He was a good tailor, a very hardworking man, but he never made much money. People say that he died of frustration over his good-for-nothing son. But I think that it was his weak heart that killed him.”
“Thank you,” said the sorcerer. “Here is something for your trouble,” and he put a small copper coin on the counter.
“No trouble at all, sir,” the candle maker said. “Many thanks.”
The sorcerer left the shop and walked straight up to Aladdin. He took the boy aside, and with tears in his eyes, he said, “Could it … Could it really be Aladdin? I can hardly believe this! It’s too good to be true!”
“What’s too good to be true, sir?” Aladdin said.
“Is your name Aladdin?”
“Yes.”
“And are you the son of Ismail the tailor?”
“Yes, I am. But he died three years ago.”
At these words the sorcerer threw his arms around Aladdin and burst into sobs.
When the sorcerer’s sobbing stopped, Aladdin said, “Why are you crying, sir? Did you know my father?”
“Did I know him!” said the sorcerer. “I am his brother!”
“I didn’t know he had a brother,” Aladdin said.
“Well, of course you didn’t,” the sorcerer said. “We were parted when we were young men. I left for Morocco, which is a long, long way from here, and your father left for this town, and I made him promise never to mention me.”
“Why did you do that, sir?”
“I was on a very dangerous mission, and I didn’t want any of my enemies to know that your father was related to me. It would have been a death sentence for him.”
“Really!” Aladdin said. “But you don’t look at all like my father. Your skin is dark, your nose is very long, and your beard is bushy, while my father’s skin was yellow and smooth and his nose was short, just like mine.”
“Ah, you noticed,” said the sorcerer. “You are very smart, just as smart as my dear brother was.”
“That’s strange, sir,” Aladdin said. “No one ever said that my father was smart.”
