The Genie of Sutton Place by George Selden Read Free Book Online

Looking up at those eyes, I suddenly realized they were alive. It would have been a big relief if there had been thunder. The genie figure from the tapestry was just there, all at once, in front of me, with his arms still lifted above his head and that awful expression on his face … And big!—was he big—about six foot six, as big as in the tapestry.
    I thought to myself, If he clobbers me with one of those hands—
    But he didn’t. In one single movement—a very beautiful, graceful movement—he brought his hands together, the right over the left, glided down on his knees, with his hands outstretched till they touched the floor, then touched the floor with his forehead as well. And then he whispered something in Arabic.
    â€œSir,” I gulped. “I don’t know that much Arabic. Do you speak any English?”
    With his head still lowered, he said, “Master, I speak all the tongues of Earth, the Dark World, and Glorious Paradise.” Then, very slowly, he lifted his face, and for the first time I saw that secret smile of his. “What I said was, ‘Lord, I come from endless servitude to do your bidding.’”
    â€œYou mean you’re not going to hit me—?”
    â€œI would plunge my fist in the fire that knows no quenching first.”
    â€œAnd—and you’ll help me?”
    â€œMaster, to satisfy your will was I created.”
    â€œâ€”And do what I ask?”
    â€œWere it even to steal the seven precious eggs of the Giant Roc that nests on the summit of Jabal Aja!”
    â€œSam!” I forgot where we were and shouted, “Sam! You can come out. He’s safe!”
    Sam came tearing from behind the urn, put his paws up on the Genie’s shoulders, and started to lick his cheek. I thought that was going a little far, and it might make him angry. It didn’t, though. His smile got even longer, and he put his arm around Sam and let him go right on licking his face. Sam caught even more of my excitement and began to bark like mad.
    â€œShh, Sam!” I remembered. “You’ll wake the guards!” Sam whimpered a little, because he was enjoying his barking, but then he shut up.
    And me—I was just bug-eyed! “Um—do you have a name? My name is Timothy Farr.”
    â€œYes, Master Timothy. But may I rise first?”
    â€œOh, gosh, yes! Please! I didn’t know—” You get flustered when you realize a genie is waiting for your orders.
    He stood up, towering over me and Sam and everything else in the room. “The Wizard, Al-Hazred, who made me, called me Abdullah.”
    â€œDid he really make you—?”
    â€œYes, master.” What a wonderful voice he had, too! As rich and deep and dark as his skin. “Over a thousand years ago he kneaded my flesh from the golden sand of the burning desert, mixed with the darkness of starless night. From the running salt tides of the sea he drew my blood, and carved my bones from granite mountains. Moonlight he filtered for my eyes, and he tore my voice from the throat of the roaring simoom. Upon my finger he placed the Ring of Immortality.” Abdullah held out his left hand. On the longest finger a beautiful silver ring softly glowed in the dark. (I never did find out whether it was silver or platinum or some magical metal.) “And when he had made me, he said to me—‘ Live !’ And I lived. I stood up and I laughed—I laughed! —because I was alive.” A big boom of laughter began in his chest.
    â€œShh, shh! Please,” I warned.
    â€œPardon, master. But to laugh is bliss, after all the centuries when my soul was imprisoned amid the threads.” He turned to look at the tapestry. His figure was still there, but different now—just a little bit changed. The eyes looked as if they were woven now, not real eyes, trapped. “Oh, the fury I felt when I knew my fate! I believe I would have destroyed the