“No, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone back and bragged to those kids,” wailed Annie.
“I should have acted more humble, like Merlin said.” Annie sounded like she was about to cry.
“It’s okay,” said Jack. But he knew it wasn’t. The book was destroyed. They’d failed in their mission.
“Maybe—maybe we can fix it,” said Annie.
Jack shook his head. “No, we can’t,” he said. “It’s completely destroyed. It can’t be fixed.”
Annie looked up. “What—what did you just say?” she said.
“I said it can’t be fixed,” said Jack.
A big grin crossed Annie’s face. “Right! It can’t be fixed!” she said. “Help me gather up all these pieces!”
“Why?” said Jack. Had Annie gone nuts?
“Just do it! Quick!” said Annie.
Jack and Annie rushed around the stable, gathering up all the torn pages.
“Now pile everything over here on top of the cover and give me the book,” said Annie.
“What book?” said Jack.
“The rhyme book!” said Annie.
“Oh. Oh!” said Jack. “Right!” He reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out Teddy and Kathleen’s book of magic rhymes.
Jack opened the book and read down the list. “Here it is: Mend What Cannot Be Mended,” he said.
“That’s the one,” said Annie.
Jack flipped through the pages until he came to the rhyme. He held up the book so he and Annie could both see. Standing in a shaft of sunlight, Jack read in a loud, clear voice:
Heal what is broken beyond repair!
Annie read the second line:
Avi-bree-all! Fen-a-mare!
The paper bits fluttered. They began to swirl off the floor. They swirled up and around as if they were caught in a small tornado. The tornado captured all the torn pieces in its funnel and twisted them together. The papers swirled into a blur of blinding light.
Jack shielded his eyes. He heard a loud whoof! When he looked up, the bright tornado had vanished.
Lying on the floor of the stable in front of Jack and Annie was the ancient book.
Holding his breath, Jack carefully picked up the treasure. He opened the leather cover. “Oh, man,” he whispered. Aristotle’s priceless words of wisdom were neatly written on the yellow pages. There was no sign of a rip or tear anywhere.
“Thank goodness,” breathed Annie.
“Yeah,” said Jack.
“So what do we do now?” said Annie.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “What’s the next thing Merlin tells us to do?” He pulled out Merlin’s letter and read:
Beneath birds who sing
in the Room of the Tree,
greet a friend you once knew
and a new friend to be.
“What’s that mean?” said Jack.
Suddenly Jack heard someone behind them. He and Annie turned around. A girl was standing in the doorway of the stable. She wore a long white gown. Her hair and face were hidden by a veil.
“Hi,” said Annie. “Who are you?”
“I am a servant of the palace,” the girl whispered. “Come.”
She motioned for them to follow her.
“Let’s go,” Annie said to Jack.
“Where is she taking us?” asked Jack. “And why is she whispering?”
“I don’t know,” said Annie. “But I feel like we should follow her.”
“Okay,” said Jack. He put the book of wisdom and the book of magic rhymes into his bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder and followed Annie and the servant girl out of the stable.
The three of them walked through the courtyard and through the palace doors. They walked down a wide candlelit hallway over a thick woven carpet.
At the end of the hallway was a tall, carved door. A boy servant stood by the door. He wore baggy trousers and a long shirt. His face was almost completely hidden by his head cloth. He did not speak or look at them.
The servant girl stood close to Jack and Annie. In her strange, whispery voice, she said, “In front of the chair, bow to the floor. Do not look up and do not speak until you are spoken to.”
“But what—” said Jack.
“Go quickly,” whispered the girl.
The boy servant pulled open the heavy door. The girl servant pushed them into the room.
“Wait,” said Jack.
But the boy servant closed the door behind them, leaving Jack and Annie alone.
“Jack, look! We’re here!” said Annie. “The Room of the Tree!”
Jack turned around. A giant tree stood in the center of the room. It had silver leaves that fluttered as if blown by the wind. Mechanical golden birds sang “Tweet-tweet!” from the silver branches.
Beneath the strange tree was an empty black chair. Jewels sparkled in its shiny wood.
“We’re in the right place,” said Annie. She quoted from Merlin’s letter:
Beneath birds who sing
in the Room of the Tree,
greet a friend you once knew
and a new friend to be.
“Another mystery solved,” Annie said.
“Not really,” said Jack. “Where are the two friends?”
“I don’t know, but we better bow in front of the chair like that servant girl told us to,” said Annie.
Jack and Annie knelt in front of the shiny black chair. They bowed their heads to the floor. Jack gripped his bag with the treasure inside.
“Remember what else she said,” Annie reminded Jack. “Don’t look up and don’t speak until we’re spoken to.”
“But there’s no one here,” said Jack. He felt foolish, bowing in front of a chair and listening to the chirping of mechanical birds. Why are we doing this? he wondered.
The door opened with a low creaking sound. Jack squeezed his eyes shut. He heard footsteps moving past them.
“How did you get into the throne room?” a deep, gruff voice asked.
“A servant brought us here,” said Annie.
“And why have you come?” asked the voice.
“We have a priceless treasure to give to the caliph of Baghdad,” said Jack, keeping his head down. “It’s a book of wisdom.”
Jack fumbled in his bag and pulled out the book. He kept his eyes tightly shut as he held the book up toward the voice.
There was a long silence.
“We hope it will help the caliph spread wisdom to the world,” said Annie.
“How did you come to be in possession of this book?” the man asked.
“We were helping a friend,” said Annie. “And we got separated in a sandstorm.”
“Ah, then I suppose you brought this book to Baghdad to gain a reward,” said the man.
“No! No, we didn’t,” said Jack. “It was our mission to give it to the caliph.”
“Surely you must be seeking some payment in exchange for this treasure,” said the man. “Would you not like precious perfumes gathered from the sweetest flowers on earth?”
“No thank you,” said Annie.
“Rubies as large as hens’ eggs?” said the man.
“No thanks,” said Jack.
“You would not accept the book’s weight in gold?” said the man.
“We don’t need a reward, really,” said Jack.
“Since he likes books so much, why don’t you just tell the caliph to use his gold and rubies to buy more of them?” said Annie.
Again, there was silence. Then the man cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was gentle and familiar-sounding. “Look up at me, Jack and Annie,” he said.
Jack opened his eyes. He slowly lifted his head. First he saw gleaming gold slippers … then a long white robe with gold trim … then a familiar face.
Jack gasped. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The man wasn’t a scary person at all. The man was Mamoon!
“Mamoon?” said Annie.
“Yes,” said Mamoon. “I am very glad to see that you have
safely arrived in Baghdad.”
“We’re glad you’re safe, too!” said Annie. “We were worried about you.”
“I looked everywhere for you after the sandstorm,” said Mamoon. “Finally I gave up my search and returned sadly to Baghdad. I assume you found your family?”
“Uh, sure,” said Annie, “we found them.”
“And we found your book,” said Jack. “When we couldn’t find you, we decided that we should give the book to the caliph.”
Mamoon smiled. “You still do not understand, do you?” he said.
“Understand what?” said Annie.
“I am Caliph Abdullah al-Mamoon.”
“You’re the caliph?” said Annie.
“But—how—what?” stammered Jack.
“For many years, I have wanted a book of Aristotle’s wisdom,” explained the caliph. “I heard that such a book had been found in the city of Damascus, and I made arrangements to acquire it for my library. It was most important that it arrive here safely. I have long wished to travel again through the desert as I did when I was a boy. So I disguised myself as a humble merchant and made the journey. My fellow travelers never knew my true identity.”
“Wow,” whispered Jack.
“You have shown me that you have a great respect for books and learning,” said Caliph al-Mamoon. “And you have also proven you have humble hearts. Before you join your family, I want to show you a very special place. I call it the House of Wisdom.”
“The House of Wisdom?” breathed Jack. “That sounds great.”
“It is my hope that the world will indeed find it ‘great,’” said the caliph. “Come.” He started to leave the room. Jack and Annie rose from the floor and hurried after him.
Carrying the ancient book of Aristotle, the caliph led Jack and Annie out of the Room of the Tree. His gold-trimmed robe billowed about him as he swept down the corridor. Every person he passed bowed low to the floor.
“Another mystery solved!” Annie said to Jack. She quoted from Merlin’s letter:
Greet a friend you once knew
and a new friend to be.
“Both friends are the same person!” said Annie. “Mamoon from the desert and Caliph Abdullah al-Mamoon.”
“Right,” said Jack, smiling.
The caliph led Jack and Annie out the front doors of the palace. In the courtyard stood two camels with long poles attached to their saddles. Resting on top of the poles was a small carriage decorated with gold tassels and brass bells.
Servants helped Jack, Annie, and Caliph Abdullah al-Mamoon into the strange little carriage. Bells jingled as the camels began to move slowly through the courtyard.
The caliph opened tiny shutters to let in air and sunlight. Jack looked out. Everyone bowed as the royal carriage passed by: the boys playing ball, the gardeners weeding flower beds, the women carrying pots.
Jack had lots of questions about the House of Wisdom. But now that he knew their friend Mamoon was the mighty caliph, he felt shy. Even Annie seemed to be at a loss for words as they rode past the date palms and the palace gardens.
“We are here,” said the caliph as the camels came to a stop. He helped Jack and Annie out of the carriage. Then he led them up the steps of a large brick building.
“Welcome to the House of Wisdom,” said the caliph, “a learning center for the entire world.”
“What happens here?” asked Jack.
“Come, I will show you.” The caliph escorted Jack and Annie through the front door and down a wide hallway. “We have a laboratory for discovering new medicines,” he said, “and an observatory for viewing the stars and planets. But this is my favorite room of all.”
The caliph stopped before an arched doorway. He opened the door and led Jack and Annie into a huge, silent room. “This is the library,” he said in a hushed voice. “Even I must be very quiet here.”
Late-afternoon light slanted down from high, open windows, streaming over bookshelves and colorful carpets. Men read at long tables. When the readers looked up and saw the caliph, they all started to rise.
“Please continue with your work. Do not mind us,” the caliph said softly.
The men sat down again and returned to their reading and writing.
The caliph pointed to a bearded man sitting by a window, hunched over a pile of papers. The man was writing furiously.
“That is al-Khwarizmi,” whispered the caliph. “He is a truly great mathematician. He has perfected the Indian way of writing numbers.” The caliph pointed to numbers written on a board on the wall: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. “We call these the Arabic numerals,” he said.
“Arabic numerals?” said Jack.
“Yes,” said the caliph.
Jack whispered to Annie, “We use the Arabic numerals, too. They must have come from that guy.”
The caliph pointed to another man reading by the window. “He is al-Kindi. He is perhaps the most brilliant scientist and thinker in the world,” whispered the caliph. “But he is very humble. He believes knowledge cannot belong to only one person or country. It belongs to all. The world grows wise only when wisdom is shared. I agree. And that is why I built this house.”
“I agree, too,” whispered Annie.
“Me too,” said Jack.
“Scientists and scholars from many countries come here to read and study and share their knowledge,” whispered the caliph. “We have thousands of books. They have all been copied by hand.”
“By hand?” said Annie. “That’s a lot of writing!”
“What kind of books?” asked Jack.
“Books of history, mathematics, geography, and medicine,” said the caliph. “But we also have a very special book of fantasy and wonder.”
The caliph took a large, thick book down from a shelf. He rested it on a table and turned the pages to show Jack and Annie. The book was filled with fancy writing and beautiful illustrations. There were pictures of Aladdin and Ali Baba, magic lamps and flying carpets.
“Oh, Tales from the Arabian Nights!” said Annie. “We know those stories.”
“You do? Wonderful!” the caliph said with a smile. “It seems someone from our land has traveled to yours and shared our stories. Perhaps someone will soon bring stories from your land back to us. That is the great power of a book, no?”
“Yes,” said Annie.
“And I hope your land will hear of this book, too, someday,” said the caliph. He held up the book of Aristotle’s writings. “After I have read it, I will have it copied so I can share its wisdom with the world. Thank you for helping me.”
“Sure,” Jack said modestly. “That was our mission.”
“I fear I must now return to my duties,” said the caliph. “But please, stay in the library. Read until you must go to meet your family. And come back someday to visit me.”
“We’ll try,” said Jack.
“Good-bye, Annie. Good-bye, Jack.”
“Bye, Mamoon,” Annie said.
The mighty caliph gave them a warm smile and a deep bow. Then he left Jack and Annie in his wondrous library.
Jack and Annie looked around the big room. The scholars and scientists were all deep into their reading.
“I can’t believe Mamoon is the caliph,” whispered Jack.
“Remember that life is full of surprises,” Annie repeated from Merlin’s letter.
“Yeah, and Return to the tree house before the moon rises,” Jack finished.
“I almost forgot that part,” said Annie.
“Me too,” said Jack.
“Shh!” said one of the scholars and scientists.
“Sorry,” said Annie.
Jack and Annie looked up at the open window. The sky was pink. The sun would be setting soon. “We have to get back to the tree house,” Annie whispered, “before the moon rises.”
“I know,” said Jack, “but how?” He felt a moment of panic. The tree house is really far away, he thought. If we traveled on Beauty and Cutie, it would take a whole day and night
to get there. And what about sandstorms? And bandits? Jack looked at Annie.
She was smiling. Magic, she mouthed.
Jack caught his breath and nodded. They both looked around to see if any of the scholars or scientists were watching. They weren’t.
Jack quietly slipped Teddy and Kathleen’s book out of his bag. He and Annie turned their backs to the others and opened the book to the table of contents.
Annie pointed to Turn into Ducks.
Jack gave her a look.
Annie pointed to Fly Through the Air.
“Yes!” said Jack.
“Shh!” said a scholar.
Jack turned to the right page. He held up the book so they both could see.
Jack said the first line of the rhyme:
Sail through the sky where you wish to go!
Annie said the second:
Sawn-ee-fore, sawn-ee-row!
“You must be quiet, or you will have to leave the library!” one of the scholars said grouchily.
“Don’t worry, we’re going,” said Annie.
A wind blew through the tall open window, fluttering the pages of the Arabian Nights book. The scholars and scientists grabbed their papers before they blew away.
The wind picked up a corner of the small carpet Jack and Annie were standing on. The carpet rippled. Jack and Annie fell forward. As they tried to stand, the carpet lifted off the floor.
“Oh!” cried all the scholars and scientists.
The carpet began floating up. It rose above the long tables. It rose above the shelves of books. Everyone jumped out of their chairs and scrambled out of the way, shouting, “Help!”— “Move!”—“Watch out!”—“Impossible!”—“What is happening?”
“Bye!” called Annie.
The carpet floated to the tall open window and glided out of the House of Wisdom.
Chilly air blew against Jack and Annie. Their head cloths flapped wildly as they clung to the end of the carpet and sailed through the sky.
“This is great!” cried Jack.
“Really great!” shouted Annie.
The carpet soared over the House of Wisdom, over the caliph riding back to his palace in his carriage, and over the camel stable.
Season of the Sandstorms Page 4