it?â
âTreasures and Trash,â one of my students called out.
âCorrect,â Mr. Condom replied. âTreasures and Trash. Perhaps more of the latter than the former but I was not disappointed. Oh no. Far from it! For this, this is what I found.â
He paused for dramatic effect, holding the lamp aloft.
I saw one of my students nudge another and exchange a WTF-type of glance.
âI paid for it and then sat in my car, nibbling on a biscuit, wondering why I had done such an impulsive thing. It is not like me. I donât go out and buy brass lamps on a whim! Even a very cheap one such as this!â
There was that word again.
Whim
. And nibbling on a
biscuit
. I made a mental note to see if I could audit a British as a second language class next semester.
âFor some unknown reason I took the lamp off the dashboard where I had been staring at it, put my biscuit in the cup holder, and rubbed the lamp three times with my left hand. Just like this.â He rubbed the lamp with a slow, counterclockwise motion.
The students were transfixed. They didnât have a clue where the hell this was going.
âSuddenly,
POOF!
â As he yelled the word
poof
, he threw the lamp up in the air, and then caught it.
âDo you know what happened then?â he asked.
It was like story time in the kidsâ section of the public library. My students were wide-eyed, some with mouths agape. They were hanging onto his every word. It was a rare day when I got anywhere close to receiving this degree of rapt attention.
âAt that very moment, just as I finished the last rub, a beautiful genie sprang from the lamp. A genie! She was dressed in a flowing Indian sari of silk and satin comprised of iridescent pink and purple hues. Shapely and buxom with jet black hair and deep-brown skin. Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes. A genie!â
You could have heard a pin drop.
ââPraise be to you, master,â the genie cried. âYou have freed me! I have been trapped in this lantern forever. Praise be to you!ââ He bent his knees and lowered his head, bowing down as the genie had done in his story.
âWell,â continued Mr. Condom. âYou can imagine that I was quite surprised. It is not every day a genie appears out of a brass lantern.
ââMaster!â says the genie. âIn appreciation for my freedom I shall grant you one wish!â
ââOne wish?â I exclaimed. âWhat a rip off! I thought I got three!ââ
The students laughed.
âThe genie shook her head. âOne wish, and one wish only. And no, it canât be for a hundred other wishes or for a billion dollars. It has to be for something politically correct. I am, after all, that kind of genie!â
âWhoa. Was I lucky or what? Talk about being in the right place at the right time. But one wish. Only one. What was I to wish for? The genie asked for a bite of my biscuit, and I was happy to oblige. Evidently one gets quite hungry trapped in a lantern for eternity. While it happily munched away, I thought and thought.
âOne wish. How about, a reversal of climate change? No more melting glaciers, rising sea levels, terrible droughts!â He turned with a flair toward me.
I gave him two thumbs up.
âBut wait?â he went on. âHow about putting an end to species extinction? Why stop at saving the polar bears? Icould keep all of Godâs creatures alive!â He did a little jig and flapped his arms. A few students applauded.
âBut then again thereâs that whole issue of crushing, oppressive poverty. I must think of my brothers and sisters back home in India. So much pain, so much misery. With my one wish I could end it forever!
âWell, by this time the genie had finished my biscuit and was clearly getting bored with my deliberations.
ââLookâ she said, glancing at her watch. âTimeâs a-wastinâ. Iâd
Learning to Kill: Stories