The Old Genie Hottabych

HASSAN ABDURRAKHMAN IBN HOTTAB’S STORY OF HIS ADVENTURES AFTER LEAVING THE SHOP

“Know ye, O my young friends, that my story is strange and my adventures most unusual. I want you to sit beside me while I tell you how I came to be here again.

“It so happened, that when the ruddy-faced foreigner left the shop, he continued on foot, in order to shake off a little of the fat that covers his well-fed body so plentifully. He walked so quickly that I was barely able to keep up with him. I caught up with him on another street and fell down before him crying, ‘Order me to follow you, O my master!’

“But he would not listen and continued on his way. I caught up with him eighteen times in all and eighteen times I fell on my knees before him and eighteen times he left me where I was.

“And so we continued on until we came to his house. I wanted to follow him in, but he shouted, ‘You do not push into my rooms or I will be calling a militia man!’ Then I asked him whether I was to stand by his door all day and he replied, ’Till next year if you want to!’

“And I remained outside the door, for the words of one who possesses Sulayman’s ring are law to me. And I stood there for some time until I heard a noise overhead and the window opened. I looked up and saw a tall thin woman in a green silk dress standing by the window. Her laugh was bitter and taunting. Behind her stood the same foreigner who now looked extremely put out. The woman said derisively, ‘Alas, how mistaken I was when I married you fourteen years ago! You always were and always will be a very ordinary haberdasher! My goodness, not to be able to tell a worthless silver ring from a platinum one! Oh, if only my poor father had known!’

“And she tossed the ring down on the pavement and shut the window with a bang. I saw this and dropped senseless to the ground, for if Sulayman’s ring is thrown to the ground terrible calamities may occur. But then I opened my eyes and became convinced that I was alive and nothing unfortunate had happened. I gathered from this that I can consider myself lucky.

“Then I jumped to my feet and blessed my fate. I picked up the ring and ran back to you, my friends, having previously procured the presents you so desired. That’s all I have to say.”

“It’s just like in a fairy-tale,” Zhenya cried excitedly when the old man had finished his story. “Can I hold the magic ring a little?”

“Of course! Put it on the index finger of your left hand. Then turn it and say your wish out loud. It will be fulfilled immediately.”

“Golly!” Zhenya said, putting on the ring. He turned it and said in a loud voice, “I want a bicycle right now!” All three held their breaths in expectation. However, no bicycle appeared.

Zhenya repeated still louder, “I want to have a bicycle immediately! This very minute!”

But the bicycle just wouldn’t appear.

“Something must have gone wrong with the ring,” Volka said, taking it from Zhenya and looking at it closely. “Look, there’s something written inside. It’s written in Russian!” he said and read aloud: “Wear this, Katya, and remember me. Vasya Kukushkin, May 2, 1916.”