Читать книгу Short stories to read on a bus, a car, train, or plane (or a comfy chair anywhere). Includes the novella «Duck Creek» - Colin David Palmer - Страница 2

“THE ORPHAN GENIE”

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Evan Floyd stepped out onto the dark street on the most momentous day of his life. Not that anything had occurred … yet! To Evan, it had just been another day like any other day, nothing remarkable to think about and no additional stress in his already over-stressed life which sort of made it good day. But he never got to think that way as events transpired to change his life in a most unusual manner and everything that happened before was relegated to another time, another life even.


I could see him coming down that dark street as I’d seen him on previous occasions, sometimes during the day and sometimes like now in the early evening, his thoughts utterly dependant on whatever drives him from his office at this exact time almost every single day. I know he is in Real Estate; I’ve seen his office and even took one of his business cards which is how I came to know his name – no slight of hand, no wizardry, no spells, no trickery – just for a change. His steps are closer and though I see him, he has never set eyes upon me before until he walks around that corner … now!


‘What, what the hell! Hullo? Are you alright?’


I had awashed myself with bright light as he rounded the corner so that when I materialised, it was during a brief period of blindness. For Evan, it would have appeared that I had always been there but the wash of light, he would explain to himself, was caused by the lights of a car in the adjacent car park. I felt positive about this otherwise I would not have risked such an overt exposure.


It was imperative that he think that way or it could mean my demise. My insight did not fail me and his words of concern soothe me. I reach up with one hand like a leper or some street beggar (which was indeed how I was portraying myself), and though my appearance would be shocking to some, Evan was homely enough not to ignore a fellow man in such poor circumstances as I appeared to be. I had always known I would have to do something to attract his attention, and his attention alone, but I also had to be certain that he was a suitable subject as my alms are not delegated lightly. My hand hung limply but he didn’t step forward to take it, his face struggling with revulsion of my slovenly appearance.


‘Help me Mister’ I said as pathetically as I could, ‘help me?’


He paused for such a length of time that I thought he might turn and run, his loathing at my sight like a neon sign on his cringing face. Then resolve and charity perhaps took ahold, and he stepped toward me and grasped my hand, and as they met then so did a certain immediate understanding, for I passed that on to him to assist in the commission of my duty and his favour. Instead of helping me rise he squatted down in front of me, his hand still in mine and the care that shone from his face was like a trophy for me.


‘Hey, it’s all right fella,’ his comment eliciting such sweet sorrow that tears spilled over my ancient cheeks. ‘Whoa, it’s okay, let me help you up?’


The exhilaration at hearing these words made me cry even more and with fabricated effort and his assistance, I gained my feet. He quickly released my hand and stepped back in surprise, for sitting against the wall I had appeared childlike, a waif, but on uncoiling my frame I towered like a collossus over his own six foot tall and overweight mass. Fear replaced his surprise, fear and revulsion but just for a moment – then my disheveled and desperate appearance reasserted itself and he tentatively slipped his hand into the crook of my elbow.


‘Come my man’. He spoke loudly with false bravado, given away by the slightest tremor and the fact that he was looking around desperately for other sources of possible assistance … for himself or for me, I could not be certain.


‘Where … where are you taking me?’ I stooped slightly so he could more naturally and comfortably lead me.


‘Well, I’d say we’d best get you cleaned up first,’ he pinched his nose for effect, ‘then maybe some food? You hungry?’ He peered into my face waiting for an answer but then went on, ‘I hope you’re not fussy, I, I don’t have much. Hey, I’ll just get pizza, order it while you’re showering! What d’ya reckon?’


I nodded at him, my tear streaked face appearing sad, my exhilaration well camouflaged, ‘thank you.’


His modest home was close by and he ushered me around and fussed like an old woman. Ensconced in the bathroom with the shower beckoning, he smiled at me and closed the door, the apparel he had provided draped across the edge of the bath. I completed my ablutions in short order (just a thought away) and left the shower running for some minutes. My powers are more useful than merely materialising wealth for others! Not that I had done so for a goodly length of time, provided for a Master – but that is my purpose here and I had selected Evan to be that Master, if he should so choose. Did he rub a bottle or a lamp? No, he had not. He had earned it.


He knocked at the door and announced the pizza, I donned his ill fitting garments and retired my now sweet smelling soma to his living area. Evan was opening two pink pizza boxes and he stopped as I approached the table, looking me up and down, then his face broke into a cheery grin which he initially tried to swallow before his laughter burst forth in an unstoppable delight. I looked down at myself and apart from the trouser hems only reaching halfway between my knees and ankles, and the sleeves of the indian cotton sweatshirt coiling loosely about my elbows, I felt my appearance was not too unkempt. His continued guffawing and the tears now rolling down his face forced my own mirth to surface and I bellowed away with him, deep and resonant chortling roiling over the top of his laughter. Light fittings jingled and crystal ware in an adjacent display case chinked away with us, until I realised he had ceased and was staring at me intently.


My laughter died. ‘There is a problem?’


‘You’re bloody tall, you’re bloody skinny, but that’s one hell of a voice you have’ he smiled. ‘God, I haven’t laughed like that for ages – come on, hook into the pizza,’ and he sat down at the head of the table. ‘Sit, um, what’s your name anyway?’


I pulled out a chair and as my knees would not fit under, I sat back away from the table. He briefly laughed again at that and I was becoming happier by the minute with my choice.


‘Zoltan’ I informed him, then even though I already knew, there was a certain pretence to maintain so I asked, ‘and you?’


He reached out a hand which I grasped, careful to be gentle and not crush his delicate human fingers.


‘Evan. Welcome to my home.’


He picked up a pizza box. I had never eaten pizza so presented and was concerned that it might taste similarly to the box. Taking his lead I delved in and selected a piece and after a tentative taste was pleasantly surprised with my first mouthful.


‘Mmm, good, excellent’ I nodded at him as a streak of molten cheese dangled from my hairy chin.


No other words were exchanged as we ate ravenously and it was painfully evident how Evan got so portly! He eyed off the last piece in my box but when I offered it to him, he shook his head. His charity was never ending so I insisted and rubbed my stomach to show him I was sated. In truth, I could have consumed another three or four whole pizzas.


‘Thank you Evan.’


‘Wuffor?’


‘Your hospitality. Your kindness. Your concern. Everything.’


‘S ‘right’, he swallowed his final mouthful looking a little sheepish.


‘I’d be even more grateful if you would let me reward, repay you.’


‘Of course, when you’re back on your feet again. It’s fine really.’


‘What do you desire more than anything else in the world?’


‘Hey? Oh, I dunno, you shout me a couple of pizzas and we’ll call it even … that okay?’


‘But are there no riches, wealth your heart may desire?’


He shook his head with a shy smile and swept his arm around at the room. ‘I have all I need, a comfortable home, a new car every couple of years and a successful business. What more do I need?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Why? you some prince in pauper’s clothing that’s going to shower me with riches?’ His laughter shook the air but this time I did not join him – my seriousness stifled his giggling. ‘Are you?’


I shook my head but before I could make reply, he jumped to his feet. ‘So, Prince Zoltan, how ’bout a beer then? I’ve only got light, that okay? Sorry, I should have got them when the pizza arrived,’ and he was gone before I answered, his laughter following.


He returned with two small glass bottles of amber fluid and placed one in front of me before resuming his seat. He took a deep swig from his and I followed – the taste was like sugar water, but a pleasant warmth spread throughout my body all the same. It had been many decades since I had consumed alcohol. ‘That okay?’ he asked, and I was pleasantly surprised to see he was even concerned that I enjoyed his beer.


‘It is wonderful, thank you once more.’ He looked down at the table, becoming uncomfortable with my continuing gratitude. ‘Evan?’


‘Yes?’ He didn’t look up.


‘There is no need of shyness or modesty. You have done more than most.’


He sat up straight and stared defiantly. ‘Nonsense. I couldn’t do anymore under the circumstances. Besides, I know how I would want to be treated’ and his eyes fell again.


And from that I knew even more about him … he was lonely. There were no signs of feminine accoutrements in his household, even in the bathroom, and he was enjoying the company, my company, even though barely an hour had passed since our meeting. My recall from the months of surveillance confirmed that he had not attended one social engagement in all that time. A few after hours business meetings had been the extent of his extra-curricular activities. I leaned forward and placed my long fingers on his arm and he looked up at me again.


‘My friend, would you bear with me? No, I am not a prince as you suggest but I have partaken of your hospitality, so then am I obligated to repay you for that is the way it is written.’


‘Nonsense’ he snorted. ‘You were, are in need … you don’t owe me anything. If you must repay me because that’s your way, then do it when you can but all you owe me is a couple of pizzas. I haven’t done anything ….’


‘Yes I do Evan and yes you have. And I will. Of that I promise and I always repay my debts, so no more talk of this for now, let us enjoy each other’s company shall we for it has been many years since I have done so and for that I also owe you thanks.’


Evan appeared to accept my final speech and we relaxed for the remainder of the night, he chatting incessantly. He got pleasantly drunk while he talked and though the first beer imbibed a certain


warmth, the remainder were somewhat wasted on me. I ended up draping him on his bed to


sleep while I retired to the comfortable floor in his living room to mull over the tasks


that lay ahead. While I rested I also passed my mind to many of the cities and nations of the


world that I had not seen for considerable time, some of them so altered that they were


unrecognisable to me both in name and appearance.


Evan rolled onto his side and opened his eyes. He was painfully aware the beer had left their morning-after calling card, both in his head and his bladder and he groaned at the thought of rising. A voice beside him made him jump, and for a second he believed his heart had ceased such was the shock.


‘You are all right my Master?’


The speaker lay beside him half-hidden under the bedclothes but when she sat up, the doona fell and revealed her nakedness. His eyes opened wide at her raven haired beauty and pert exposed breasts but oblivious to the concern shining from her vivid green eyes, and Evan did the only thing he could think of under the circumstances – he blushed and looked away. It was then he discovered his own nakedness and his embarrassment multiplied. Ignoring his pounding head he plunged down under the bedclothes and rolled onto his side.


‘Who, who are you?’


He felt as she spooned up behind him, her arms wrapping around his chest and the feeling of her naked breasts pressed against his back forced an immediate reaction in spite of the pressure from his bladder.


Her lilting voice softly crooned into his ear. ‘I am Melissa, my Master’ she spoke as a mother would to a child.


‘Where, what, where did you come from?’


Her hair brushed the side of his face and brought an even firmer response than he ever thought was possible, but it was the soft tickle of breathe that made him react.


‘Because you wanted me.’


Evan didn’t even realise that she hadn’t answered his question, his desire too strong to ignore; he rolled over and they made furious love for all of sixty seconds, her moans and cries allayed any embarrassment he felt. He lay gasping on top of her, her arms wrapped around him though he was attempting to support his not inconsiderable bulk off her petite body. He huffed and puffed as he raised his head to gaze into the wanton desire expressed across her whole face and surprisingly, he felt the amazing sensation of his erection returning. Not as surprising as this and far less noticeable was his headache – it was gone! He felt clear headed as if he’d just slept for twelve hours. This time their lovemaking was even more urgent, if that was possible. With no pretense other than to satisfy himself, and encouraged by Melissa’s enthusiastic urgings, Evan finally collapsed onto her totally sated for the first time in his life and drifted off into a blissful sleep.


His eyes opened, in focus immediately, and the red beaming figures of the clock radio announced that it was nine o’clock. He blinked once then turned rapidly on the bed.


‘Melissa?’


The bed was empty but the small indentation on the pillow and the turned back covers displayed her presence, as did a few wisps of her hair starkly contrasted against the white bed linen. Evan looked around the room noticing the ensuite door was open and the mirror over the vanity


echoed it’s emptiness. The dim light made it harder see around the remainder of the room and Evan reached over to turn the lamp on. She was not there.


‘Goddam, a dream?’ he muttered.


He padded into the ensuite, relieved himself and checked his nakedness in the mirror, noticing that he did not avert his eyes as he usually did. He didn’t look as portly as usual and he frowned at the visage before shrugging and turning on the shower. As he bathed he recalled Zoltan, then hurriedly shut off the shower as concern for his household took over. Zoltan must have found Melissa – he did strongly suggest that he wanted to repay me. But what if he’s also ripped me off while I was asleep? He dressed rapidly.


‘Dammit’ he muttered as he slammed open his bedroom door, the darkness surprising and initially disorientating even though he had lived here for over ten years. He flicked on the hallway light and stopped dead. From the hall he looked across his once sparse lounge room to the dining area where he and Zoltan had shared pizzas the night before. Where his comfy but tattered old settee had been was a deep red leather chesterfield and matching recliner, both facing a large screen plasma television mounted on the wall complete with a full sound system, VCR and DVD players mounted on beech coloured shelves beneath. The carpet had gone, his old but still serviceable carpet replaced by gleaming dark floorboards. A huge persian rug matching both the leather and the beech, framed a large glass top fossil stone coffee table. Luxurious drapes surrounded timber venetians on all windows and the dining room now had a dining setting that matched the coffee table. His china cabinet had also gone, replaced by a mahogany bar, a match of the floorboards. Overhead shelves and racks staggered with exquisite glassware and bottles of alcohol. Every surface in both rooms had been painted and the blank walls adorned with designer paintings and sculptures.


Evan realised he was standing with his mouth wide open and he closed it with a loud ‘plop’, briefly shut his eyes then shook his head as it dawned on him that he wasn’t dreaming. The door from the kitchen opened and Melissa appeared carrying two plates. She did not look at or acknowledge Evan, placing the two dishes onto the table, one at the head and the other beside. She walked back into the kitchen and returned almost immediately with a large covered stainless tray, setting it down between the two plates. Evan stood transfixed … she was still beautiful fully dressed. Melissa fished into the pocket of her dress and produced cutlery for both settings, then serving implements. She stood beside the head of the table and looked directly at Evan, no surprise at all evident on her face.


‘Dinner is served My Master’ she beamed.


‘Who, what … where, where is Zoltan?’


‘Master Zoltan is here My Master.’


‘Where, what, you?’ For a brief horrifying moment, Evan thought that Zoltan had somehow transformed himself into Melissa and that he had made love to her/him. Twice! Zoltan’s booming voice welcomed and relieved him from the kitchen doorway.


‘I am here Evan, My Master.’


Evan turned his head to where Zoltan stood framed, his face impassive as he stood slightly bowed to miss the architrave. As Evan watched, he stepped forward and straightened – gone were the cast offs, the humurous attire that had so tickled Evan’s fancy the previous evening, gone was the unkempt figure of the beggar and gone was the long faced look of resignation and sadness, replaced by one of smiling self-satisfaction. Rich robes hung from shoulders to ankles where the points of highly polished boots jutted from the hem and competed with the halation from the timber floor. Gaily coloured sashes rode across one shoulder and sparkling jewels bedecked his fingers and exposed wrists and Evan thought the ornate butt of some sort of weapon protruded from the lowest portion of the sash. Zoltan’s long hair was beaded back like Evan had seen was the fashion with young girls but it did not look silly or inappropriate, it appeared almost regal. Evan’s thoughts flashed again to the night before and his comment about the prince.


‘Who are you?’ Zoltan swept into the room and with a flourish of his robes assumed the chair held for him by Melissa. He looked at Evan as Melissa offered the chair at the head of the table. Evan walked slowly forward but stopped halfway. ‘I said who are you, and she, Melissa, and all this,’ he allowed his eyes to leave them and glance around the room.


‘Sit please, my friend. I told you that I always repay my debts. Sit down please and I shall explain. Melissa is quite the wonderful hostess so do not let her culinary skills be wasted,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.


Evan walked slowly to the chair, Melissa squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek as he sat. He pulled away warily, surprised. She patted him on the shoulder for reassurance and didn’t look offended at his slight rejection, then he smiled as he recognised the irony that he, the overweight, middle aged and not too attractive Evan having rejected the young and beautiful Melissa. He relaxed, slightly, and looked back at Zoltan.


‘Alright. Tell me what’s going on? Is this some kind of joke, Changing Rooms, or Just Kidding or some other show …’


‘Easy my friend’ Zoltan interrupted, ‘no. It is no joke as you call it. Melissa?’


She uncovered the silver tray and the wafting aroma of roast lamb immediately assaulted Evan’s senses. His stomach rumbled loudly as the perfectly baked vegetables gleamed at him from the tray. Evan shrugged. ‘Why not? All this,’ he waved his arm around the room, ‘and a roast dinner for breakfast!’


‘But it is evening now my friend. You have slept all day’ and Zoltan’s smile was not a little mischievous as he snuck a peek at Melissa.


‘I … I didn’t think I’d drunk that much’ was all he could mutter.


‘Do you like it?’


‘I do, yes, I do, but you have to understand, it’s such a dramatic and surprising change that I wasn’t, I’m not prepared for it, I don’t know …’


‘It is alright my friend’ Zoltan interrupted again. ‘As long as it is to your approval? Is there anything you would like me to change, something else your heart desires?’


Evan shook his head, looking bewildered. ‘I don’t understand how I slept all day, um, I havn’t missed a day at work for three years, and how, how did you do this, all this without waking me?’


Melissa finished serving them and retired out of sight to the kitchen, nodding once to Zoltan and smiling at Evan. Zoltan returned Evan’s baleful glare with one of amusement. ‘You have heard of magicians, shamans, wizards, warlocks, sorcerers and the like? I have variously been described as one or all of those at one time or another, but in your vernacular you probably know me as a genie.’ He held up his hand as Evan prepared to interrupt and nodded to his plate. ‘Let me complete my explanation and that should satisfy most of your questions. Please, eat your dinner as I speak then it shall be your turn. I cannot solve the mystery of how I became a genie for you as it occurred too long ago for my recall. What I can tell you is that I am over two and a half thousand years old,’ his mischievous grin appeared again, ‘and yes, I lived through the time of your Jesus Christ, though I know of him only from your own history. You see, I am only conscious when I am serving a Master, the remainder of time does not exist for me. Each and every time I return to your world I see the amazing changes that have occurred, and on some occasions that has been as short as a year or two, up to hundreds of years. This time, I have returned for over a year to a Master who was a wealthy, wise and patient man. His first wish for me, yes, that part is true, three wishes for the finder of the genie – his first wish was that my next Master would be a worthy recipient of my powers as he believed that he already had everything in the world that he could ever want or need. We spent many, many nights conversing over his remaining two wishes until tragically, he was killed in an automobile accident. I had never enjoyed anybody’s company before, satisfied with both my position and my own solitary life, but my Master showed me something that nobody before him had done, and that was true companionship is indeed a worthy life. If this secret could be shared amongst the world’s many natives, then peace would be all encompassing.’


He paused as Melissa returned with two crystal glasses of red wine. ‘Will there be anything else my Master?’


Evan was surprised to see she was addressing himself and not Zoltan. He merely shook his head – even Melissa’s beauty could not take his mind from this incredible, this unbelievable, story.


‘Go on Zoltan, please.’


‘There is little more to tell, except the death of my Master occurred some forty years ago, but now I believe that in accordance with his one and only wish, I have found a worthy recipient – you.’


The silence between them lay for long seconds, Evan studying Zoltan’s face as if seeking further clarification and Zoltan staring back impassively, knowingly. Finally, Evan cleared his throat, his meal so mouth wateringly tempting yet so insignificant.


‘You expect me to believe something so unbelievable? Genie? Genies only exist in stories and fairy tales and you could have done all this while I slept, it’s possible.’ He concluded sounding as if he was talking to himself rather than addressing Zoltan.


‘You want some proof, of course. As I believed it would be. I am not a charlatan Evan, and I am most definitely not a liar. Behold!’


With a gesture of one hand, the entire room returned to it’s former antiquity, there was no noise or billowing of smoke or any other theatrics that Evan could see. It was like blinking and seeing two totally separate scenes after the blink. Even his dinner was now congealed eggs sitting with coldly rigid bacon on his own old plates. He peered again at Zoltan dressed once more in the clothes he’d supplied last night, hair disheveled, his face worn and long. Zoltan gestured again and the room, and himself, reclaimed their new appearance. Evan shook his head and uttered one word.


‘Melissa?’


‘She is very real my friend, one of many wards, and she agrees with my decision as well as telling me that you are a lovely man!’ He spoke the last with a broad smile.


‘And so, I get three wishes when?’


‘Just two my friend, the two remaining from my previous master.’


‘My God! Zoltan, I’m just having a little trouble digesting all this, if you understand what I mean. Um, does that include any spurious wishes I may make, you know, like in jest.’


‘It does, so you must be careful.’


‘What about you, what happens to you after I’ve made my two wishes.’


‘Not for you to concern yourself with. You could say I go back into hibernation, like a bear in winter, yet mine is normally a very long winter.’


‘And I can wish for anything?’


‘Yes, anything as long as it does not involve hurt to others but I warn you again my friend, be careful, as your wishes will literally come true. I cannot say more than that.’


‘I think I understand, thank you. Don’t wish for my long dead mother or something like that because I will get her back exactly as she is today, ashes to ashes if you get my drift.’


‘I do, and I see you also ‘get my drift’ as you put it. That is how it is my friend.’


‘Well then, I think I know what I want already, if I may?’


‘Anytime, but make sure …’


‘I am sure – my friend.’


Zoltan looked at Evan quizzically – it was the first time he had seen him so positive.


‘Then let it be – let us do it.’


Evan took a deep breath. ‘I’m likely to mistakenly send someone to hell or something if I wait and think about it too much, so I have to do it now.’ Another deep breath. ‘Zoltan, my first wish is nothing atypical, it is selfish but my intentions are good. I wish to be always financially wealthy so that I can assist the poor and underprivileged of the world.’


‘It is done,’ Zoltan nodded, smiling.


‘Secondly, I have only known you a short time but in you I see the same loneliness I feel, the need for a friend, a companion as you found with your previous master. I truly believe that, so,’ he paused and took a deep breath but failed to see the look of resignation on Zoltan’s face, ‘it is my wish that you be free and should you so choose, you can remain here for as long as you like. You will always be welcome.’


Zoltan stared at him, no surprise evident. Melissa came out from the kitchen and stood at the end of the table, looking expectantly at each of them. Evan continued to look at Zoltan and finally nodded at him in assurance.


‘That is my wish, those are my wishes. Now, genie, tell me they are done – both of them.’


‘I should have foreseen this, your charity, your philanthropy is unfathomable. But I warned you also of consequences and you have wished me to be something that I am not. If not a genie, then I am nothing, I do not exist. I cannot forestall any longer my friend, I see you did have all good intentions however … uumph.’


Melissa had token on a ghostly pallour as Evan glanced at her, the look of horror on his face surpassed only by her sadness. She became more transparent as he watched, until disappearing from his view within a few short seconds. He was sure her last act was to blow him a kiss. The horror did not leave him as he looked back to Zoltan, now also fading quickly.


‘Noooo … ' he yelled.


The voice came to him muffled, the booming qualities gone, the crystal rattling volume seemed to be lost somewhere in the short distance between them.


‘Goodbye my friend. Good luck. It is done.’

THE END

Short stories to read on a bus, a car, train, or plane (or a comfy chair anywhere). Includes the novella «Duck Creek»

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