As I type my away at my story, trying to somehow come up with an original, exciting and eye-catching opening, my mind races ahead to the second paragraph where I will segue from the introductory segment into an oblique reference to the main story by way of a clever and moderately humorous secondary tale that actually appears first and thus takes the reader by surprise. I sit back to mull this thought over, and, as I do, I look around at my work area noticing that it is somewhat unkempt and messy. I pull my attentions away from my writing and take a closer look, running my hand lightly across the top of my desk to see faint lines appear, trailing my touch like finger paints, and I realize that the desk is dusty. Gracious! I know that my concentration maintains acute, directed focus toward my work (as I write this, I pause with the thought that I could order a pizza for dinner, get up out of my chair, walk over and look around on the door of the refrigerator for the magnet that has the delivery number on it. I have to hunt rather carefully among the dozens of delightfully designed art magnets that decorate with such bright and snappy flair, stopping to look at a few and remembering when I created the drawings from which they were made, then see my two elongated oblong magnets are stuck there also. So I pull them off, place them in my right hand far enough apart that they don’t snap onto each other, and then toss them up into the air. They come together with a resounding clack and vibrant buzz as their hard attraction joins them in a series of miniscule bounces which sounds like some kind of outer space ray gun: Z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z! Cool! I do this a few more time before dropping them and then having to get down on my hands and knees to reach under the refrigerator ...sheesh, doesn’t anybody dust under here? As I grab my errant toys, I suddenly recall my dusty desk, quickly stand up, intending to get right back to the matter at hand, and handily slap the magnets back onto the fridge. But in doing so, knock off some papers stuck up there under some of the other magnets, dropping them to the floor. I bend to pick these up and see that one is a note for me to call my brother to ask if I can stay with him when I am in town for a volleyball tournament next month. I decide that this is important enough to warrant special attention, so I stick it back on the door, but use the two oblong magnets instead of a flat one. There! Much more noticeable! Satisfied by a responsibility well handled, I return to my desk, sit down and get back to typing. ...ummm, where was I? oh yes: ) and does not easily yield to distractions (I suddenly look up, remember the pizza, push out of my chair, rush to the fridge, find the number, make the call {deep dish, mushroom and onions}
I sit and sputter, knee deep in fresh dust, swirls and clouds of the stuff settling all around, and I hear a voice call out from somewhere, “Be careful what you wish for.” I silently acknowledge this sage advice and, since I can’t see my keyboard to continue on for the moment, offer you this story for today’s entertainment. Take it in stride.
Master Bishu and the Genie
Bishu was out walking along the beach in Tibet one fine summer day when he noticed something unusual sticking out of the sand. He walked over to it, saw that it was some kind of handle, reached down and pulled it out to find it was an old, tarnished oil lamp.
“Hmmm...” he mused, “this looks interesting.”
He rubbed the sand off of it and, as he did, it suddenly grew warm and began to shake. Smoke started coming out of the spout, growing thick very fast and billowing up in the air.
“My goodness,” Bishu said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
The dark smoke coalesced to become a cloud above him, gradually solidifying, colors and patterns appearing within the forming shapes until he could see a humanoid figure rising, stretching, reaching two large and powerful looking arms to the sky.
“Well, well,” murmured Bishu, quite fascinated by all this.
The lower part of the figure was still smoke and cloud, but up from there it had transformed into bright purple pantaloons, a red vest over its bare, blue-skinned, muscular chest, a thickly muscled neck holding a large oval head, pointed ears decorated with golden rings, and above it all, a sparkling yellow turban. A fiercely scowling face bared knife-like teeth below the two steaming nostril slits as its single flaming eye looked down upon the small figure of Bishu, still standing holding the lamp in his hands. The two tree sized arms slowly lowered until the gnarled hands with razor-nailed fingers were poised on either side of Bishu, like living, malevolent walls.
With a further cloud of noxious steam emanating from its mouth, the creature spoke in a thunderous voice, “I AM THE GENIE OF THE LAMP.”
“How do you do?” said Bishu right away, “ I’m Bishu.”
The Genie looked taken aback for a moment, then again spoke, “I HAVE SPENT TEN THOUSAND YEARS IMPRISONED IN THE LAMP. YOU HAVE RELEASED ME BY RUBBING IT. I WOULD SQUASH YOU LIKE A BUG, BUT I AM PLEASED TO BE SET FREE, SO I WILL GRANT YOU THREE WISHES AND SPARE YOUR PUNY LIFE.”
Bishu looked up at the Genie, looked down at the lamp in his hands, looked back up at the Genie and said, “How’s that again?”
The Genie scowled even deeper and his eye burned bright.
“I WILL SPARE YOUR LIFE AND GRANT YOU THREE WISHES BEFORE I LEAVE TO WREAK HAVOC ON THIS MISERABLE WORLD. WHAT ARE YOUR WISHES?”
Bishu looked up to the Genie,
“Wow. Three wishes, huh?”
“THREE!”
“Well, how ‘bout that,” Bishu mused, holding onto the lamp with one hand while scratching the back of his head with the other.
“MAKE YOUR WISHES NOW! OR DO YOU WISH TO DIE INSTEAD?” bellowed the Genie
“No, no,” laughed Bishu, “all in good time for that, I’m sure,”
He looked up at the Genie and said, “Y’know, you seem to be quite a nice fellow, but you have some anger issues that could be resolved.”
“WISH!” thundered the Genie.
Bishu raised his eyebrows and said, “Gee, I wish you had a more pleasant disposition. You’d make a lot more friends that way, you know.”
The Genie looked startled for a moment, then said, “OH. I’M SORRY. I DIDN’T MEAN TO GET ANGRY. IT’S JUST THAT BEING COOPED UP IN THAT LAMP FOR SO LONG HAD MADE ME A BIT GRUMPY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.”
Bishu nodded understandingly and replied, “Of course, no offense taken!” then smiled and said, “I wish you enjoyed being cooped up in this lamp,” waving the thing up at the Genie, “so that you wouldn’t get so cranky when you come out. Don’t you think life would be better that way?”
The Genie again looked startled, and then somewhat anxious, saying, “UM, EXCUSE ME, MISTER BISHU, SIR, BUT COULD YOU PLEASE HURRY UP WITH YOUR THIRD WISH. I’D LIKE TO GET BACK INTO MY LAMP AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE.”
Bishu bowed to the toweringly timid Genie and said, “Of course! I apologize. If that’s what you truly want, why then I wish for it as well!”
And with that there was a sucking rush of air pulling the cloud formed Genie back into the lamp, its face showing a delightedly relieved smile.
All alone again on the beach, Bishu shrugged, tossed the lamp over his shoulder and continued on his walk, mumbling to himself, “I wonder if there are any seashells around here...”
Okay, I’ve dug myself (and my keyboard) out of the dust and am able to type again. The room still needs a bit of cleanup, but I’m sure that with a swipe or two of a damp cloth, things will be good as new. I hope you didn’t get caught in the fallout of my ill-conceived wish, but if so I apologize. In the future I will try to remember to follow the offered advice and be most careful what I wish for. In light of this thought I immediately set it to the test and wish you a most pleasant day!
Written by Michael Steven Platt 4-08-09
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