Flyaway Tales

by Stefano Amadei

  Ali walked around the merchant and crouched on one side behind the amphora where the scribe was holding the water to drink during the working day.

  Without realizing it, however, Ali gave a little kick to the scribe’s chair who instinctively looked down and saw him.

  The scribe cleared his throat and, lifting the hand he used to write, asked to take break, dipped a cup into the amphora. Then, not seen by the merchant, he motioned to Ali to hide under his desk. The scribe had indeed noticed the boy’s movement as he had just appeared out of the alley.

  Relieved the child sat down exhausted on the ground putting his arms around his knees so as not to bother the scribe. Meanwhile, the merchant increasingly urged: “Come on, Hazir, I don’t have all day! Let’s resume. Where were we?”

  “Lordship, we had come to ... And thus I will barter my saffron with your fabrics and your tea...”

  “Well, that’s it!” and Aziz Stuvir began to dictate the letter.

  Without realizing it, Ali, under Hazir’s counter, began to softly repeat all that the merchant was dictating.

  At first Hazir gave Ali a kick to make him stop, but, as soon as he did so, he regretted it. He noticed that the boy had an excellent memory, which was essential in his work. Besides, doing so meant that he would not have to ask the merchant to repeat and, not least, he could serve more customers in one day.

  Luckily for him, Ali decided to return to repeating the business letter in a low voice and Hazir thanked Allah for this gift.

  Surprised by the change in Hazir’s speed, the merchant Aziz Stuvir decided to congratulate the scribe: “Say, it’s been a long time that I’ve seen you in such good shape!”

  Thank you sir. It must be that today, your presence inspires me more than usual.”

  The merchant laughed loudly holding his stomach then put a hand in his purse and paid Hazir.

  “You saved me time and time is precious for us merchants, so I want to give you a present: here’s a piece of gold!”

  Hazir could not believe his eyes.

  “Sir, I don’t deserve so much! You are as generous, as you are beneficent, my benefactor!”

  Still in a good mood the merchant went down to the harbor with his letter.

  Hazir looked under his desk and saw Ali who looking at him with his big eyes full of questions.

  He smiled at him: “What’s your name boy?”

  “Ali, sir”

  “You’ve been very helpful, Ali. Want to earn a copper coin for each day of work? Here’s what you have to do... “

  Before long the fame of Hazir the scribe increased. He became famous throughout the city as the scribe with a long memory, the quickest and fastest scribe.

  Soon he could afford to take a better place with his desk, by buying the position used by another scribe, right next to the entrance of the main market.

  Ali was also pleased. The man was very kind to him and treated him better than he treated himself. He fed him twice a day and, now, under the counter he had wooden boards and even a worn pillow. Behind the counter Hazir had put up a small tent, and when asked why, he replied that it was used to shelter from the sun during the hottest hours, when in fact it was used to conceal Ali who, from time to time, had to stretch his legs.

  Sometimes then, as well as the copper coin, Hazir brought Ali some yummy bread that was all for him.

  The scribe, however, knew that this could not last long: soon Ali would no longer be able to sit under his desk.

  He decided to start the small boy off in the noble art of reading and writing.

  He had hidden Ali from everyone. Some things, it was said, would be better to keep to himself. But the human spirit is often easy to fall to feelings that are not exactly uplifting, such as envy and avarice and, in a city like theirs, entirely devoted to trade and business, his sudden fame and skill had become an object of suspicion and envy.

  There were those who did not want to sell anything to Hazir because it was believed he was possessed by a demon, there were those who swore they heard voices coming from the scribe’s desk.

  But as there was no evidence these were only people’s words. But things changed with the beginning of Ali’s lessons, certainly he could no longer be keep quiet where the suggestions were coming from.

  Hazir was often seen in the streets in the company of Ali, no one understood.

  But one evening Mohammed, a man who sold animals, saw Hazir enter his friend’s smoking-room with the child.

  To see those two strange customers go in so late made the animal seller a little suspicious, so he decided to pay more attention.

  Mohammed, therefore, saw Ali and Hazir go into the smoking room at other times.

  After closing time, in fact, the scribe explained his art to the child away from prying eyes, or so he thought.

  He knew he was risking a lot: not everyone could take up the craft and become a scribe. Also it took years of practice and exercise and he needed to know at least Arabic and Latin.

  But Ali had entered into his heart and Hazir now thought of him like a son. Even the small boy never stopped thanking Hazir for his good heart and considered him in turn as a father.

  He believed, in his innocence, that he was not doing anything wrong and it would be nice to learn the magic of reading and writing slowly, while growing up, he was a model student and a quick learner.

  But Hazir was seen entering the smoking room one time too many.

  Mustafa, the head of the guild of scribes in the city, asked to see what Mohammed had told him about, before he had not believed his ears, and now his eyes.

  Hazir himself, one of the ablest and righteous, it was he himself.

  The circumstances were further checked, verified.

  An apprentice, everyone knew, by order had to be declared, and, until he had obtained the seal of the scribe, would be owned by the scribe who had accepted him.

  For this ownership the share of the dues to the order would rise by half.

  The apprentice had a year of time before being having to take an examination.

  To start an apprentice without permission was like declaring a mutiny, it meant being disbarred from the order and no longer being able to practice in the city.

  So it was that Mustafa went along with a couple of disciples to the smoking room and found Ali sitting at a desk with a feather in his hand and Hazir on a chair about to start dictation.

  Frightened by the interruption, Ali jumped up, spilling the ink.

  Mustafa told Hazir: “So it is true. Today, what sadness is in my heart. Do you know what the rules are?”

  “The rules...” interrupted Hazir “...should be reviewed. It is just because I have a heart that I started to teach my son, who fate caused me to meet. Thanks to him I discovered another side of myself I did not know. However, Mustafa, if you still hold to your opinion, the order must make an official investigation. I promise to answer everything.”

  Meanwhile, before they could take him, the boy fled away crying.

  The next day Hazir went to the place that housed the order of the scribes, a large white tent just in front of the temple.

  The associates were being sent customers and jobs, as they gathered.

  Hazir entered the tent and greeted Mustafa and the members of the gathering.

  “We know you have tried to take an apprentice...” began Mustafa without answering Hazir’s greeting, who almost did not deserve that honor, “...without informing the order. What have you to say for yourself?”

  “It is not my fault, but I have loved him like a father loves a child. For a year he has helped me by repeating words under my desk. In this time I have learned of his intelligence, his memory and his honesty. I’m here to ask you to let me take him on as an apprentice.”

  “As a father you say? And where, father, is this son of yours, your apprentice? Why is it that today he is not with you at your time of need, just when we have to decide on his and your fate? Didn’t he run away when we surprised you teach
ing him to write?”

  “You are wrong Mustafa!” exclaimed a powerful voice. Someone darkened the sunlight that entered the tent.

  It was Aziz Stuvir the merchant, who had Ali by the hand.

  All got up in surprise. The merchant was one of the wealthiest clients and his word, like the rest, had a certain weight. Ali told me everything. I was sure you’d be here Hazir.

  Ali ran quickly to embrace his father’s legs who smiled.

  “He is a very intelligent boy your Ali, Hazir.”

  Then Stuvir Aziz turned to the order, “Gentlemen, I understand that my friend Hazir, according to you, cannot take on an apprentice and that he hadn’t reported this to you to avoid paying the fee. I am an experienced trader and I must draw your attention to the fact that the other scribes certainly take the fee that should be paid to you out of their apprentice’s pay, making them, in the end, work for free.

  Hazir instead gives his apprentice a copper coin a day. How then could he have an apprentice, this is real nonsense! You own things that you have, you respect people, and you love your children!”

  “Ali...” continued Aziz Stuvir “... he could squander his fortune, instead he preferred to bring his money to me because I made it bear fruit. How could I refuse such a thing? I treated that money as if it were my own and combined it, the little there was, with my business. Little by little I bought, I sold, I dealt. Ali has now tripled his amount in goods.”

  “Needless then to talk about your stupidity. I will never cease to praise Hazir’s ingenuity!” Azir Stuvir indicated the scribe with an expansive gesture of his right arm.

  “Without his trick in fact I would probably have lost my biggest deal. As soon as I got the letter I rushed to the port where I knew an explorer was arriving who, along with other merchants, was preparing for a long journey on the Silk Road. What you, Mustafa, have not understood is that the scribes are at the service of the merchants and that time is money!”

  So he turned to Hazir: “My friend, give your seal to these gentlemen, they do not deserve you here. Come with me, you will be my own personal scribe: no one will understand me where we will be going. I’ll pay you ten gold coins a month.”

  At these words all the members of the order were amazed and murmured between each other.

  “Your magnificence, I would be with you for half! And where are we going, if I may ask?” asked Hazir.

  “We wait a month. The one organizing a caravan wants to go far to the east.”

  “The Indies?” ventured Hazir still surprised.

  “China!” concluded Aziz Stuvir. “And don’t forget to bring your son Ali.”

  Hazir looked at Mustafa and saw him for the first time for what he was: a little man full of himself who had learned one of the greatest lessons of his life.

  Hazir added nothing to what was said by his new master.

  Strangely, he felt satisfied: it was priceless to see the entire order of scribes in the city open-mouthed with surprise and envy.

  Hazir placed his seal on the desk right in front of Mustafa.

  Then he turned, took Ali’s hand: “Come, let’s go buy pens and ink, we’ll need them...”

  A GENIE’S WISH

  That past year had been a real paradise for Badwinter. Unfortunately for him, Badwinter was a devil.

  As well as he tried, it always ended the same way, which is badly.

  Or rather, he had always been overcome by good.

  Therefore, to recover and regain the right concentration and the usual nastiness, he had requested and received special permission to travel for meditation, a sort of evil spiritual retreat.

  And as all devils think of Beelzebub for inspiration for their misdeeds, so for Badwinter it seemed the most natural thing in the world to meditate his devilry on the point of the nearest land to His Infernal Evil, the Mariana Trench, the deepest ocean abyss on the Earth.

  He left quietly from the mouth of an underwater volcano in full eruption, and headed into the dark depths of the ocean propelled forward by his pointed tail moving quickly like a snake.

  When he reached the bottom he realized that it was totally dark. He tried to pass a claw in front of his eyes, but saw nothing.

  He certainly could have taken advantage of the darkness to become isolated and discover within him the reason for some of his failures but, he said, he could have achieved the same result in his cave.

  He decided to try to bring a little light into that world to see if, instead, he could find something to inspire him.

  He covered his nose and blew hard. His large spiral horns glowed a bright red, illuminating a few steps before him.

  Nothing to be done: he had hoped for something better there and instead there was only sand and a few rocks.

  Disappointed he began to wander around, searching the area using his tail to move around, just as he had done before.

  Some fish-monsters of the deep sea gathered around, attracted by the strange light.

  At first Badwinter thought of having fun by sparking hunger in some predator, but that would be like throwing a stone into the water and expecting to see a hole.

  Not funny at all!

  After all, he would have only speeded up what would have happened naturally. And then there was no satisfaction with animals, because they are neither bad nor evil, not even those that eat other animals.

  While Badwinter wandered about in this way thinking about how lucky he was to live in a world chock full of human beings to tempt and from whose goodness of spirit he drew nourishment and strength, his eyes saw a spark.

  He stopped.

  There was a chest on the ocean floor. It was wrapped in heavy chains that had been tied to a big rock, as if someone had wanted to hurry its descent into the abyss.

  A grin instantly came over his lined face.

  He effortlessly tore away the padlocks that had been corroded by seawater over time and opened the trunk.

  Inside there was an oil lamp that seemed to have been used.

  There had to be a good reason if someone had sent the chest down there and Badwinter had an idea.

  Perhaps the day would become more interesting.

  He rubbed the lamp vigorously and waited.

  It didn’t seem that anything had happened, but then an oblong, white, phosphorescent bubble came out. Then there came another, and another until they formed a kind of figure, as they joined.

  It took shape, in more and more detail, the shape of a genie, dressed as they used to be in Arabia centuries ago: a sleeveless waistcoat, wide trousers, slippers and so on.

  He was more than three and a half meters tall and he was looking at him from top down, with his arms crossed, the devil let the lamp that was still in his hand fall to the sand in surprise.

  “Master, thank you for having freed me. You called, how may I be of help to you?”

  Badwinter clapped his hands with delight and then turned to his new slave.

  “Tell me, I have wishes can you satisfy them?”

  “Yes master, I can fulfill three wishes!”

  “Well I will think about them. But first I want to know why you were in that trunk. How did you end up there?”

  “My previous wise master did it. He wanted me to disappear to a place where no human being would ever find me. And so it was until you pulled me out, master!”

  “And in fact I am not human... I understand. Yes, I like your subtle way of thinking, it is very familiar to me!” This pleased Badwinter who put his thumb in his mouth and blew with all his might. In a moment the mighty genie had grown double the size. You never knew how certain things might go and so he had to be clear from the start who was in charge and who was not.

  “Master, I see that you have many powers, maybe you have more than I have myself. If you will allow me, what can I do to serve you?”

  Badwinter grinned again at the white figure.

  “You have spoken well, I’m a Devil of the Seventh Round and I certainly have more powers than you. This does
not mean you can’t come in useful...” he said looking distractedly into the distance of the dark ocean depths.

  After all he had never heard of any devil stumbling upon a genie, and this was an opportunity that was not to be wasted.

  “Well, my slave, I have only one wish. Genie, I wish for all the souls in the world!”

  “Master,” answered the genie without hesitation “I am very sorry, but I am unable to fulfill this wish even if I wanted. As you know the spirits and souls go to hell on their own or because they’ve been deceived by the thousands of temptations they meet up within their earthly lives: they do so on their own initiative following their own will. I cannot give up even a soul that does not want to on its own, but in that case, Master, you can get that soul on your own without me. If you believe Master I could show you the richest treasures of the seven seas that you could use to convince many souls to follow your way.”

  To hear those words seemed almost to be making fun of him, Badwinter got so hot that the water around his horns began to bubble rising up as thousands of tiny bubbles.

  “Slave, do I look like a fool to you? Or, even worse, a human being? Do you think I don’t already know where and how to find priceless treasures, fame, beauty, honor and a thousand other useless vanities that all humans crave? Do you think you can teach me, a devil, the art of deception, seduction and temptation? But maybe you were kept in that lamp for too long and don’t know that we devils don’t just want as many souls as possible to go to hell, but to corrupt and tempt the most sincere and noble, to lead them down the wrong path and make the holiest of people and those on the right path commit the worst sins. Since, therefore, after all, you can’t be of any help I think I should definitely get rid of you. In the end, you’re just wasting my time with your useless talk.”