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Subject: {ASSM} Anniv-Party: Alassin (f)
Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 20:10:03 -0500
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Alassin
by oosh@nerve.com
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, there was a little Chinese
restaurant. And while Mr Cheng, the proprietor, strutted importantly
among the tables, and his wife supervised the cooking in the
kitchen, a young girl stood at the sink, her arms deep in the hot
water, staring sightlessly through the kitchen window into the
darkness beyond.
"Dreaming again, Alassin? Get on with your work!" snarls Mrs Cheng
angrily, "I don't know why we adopted you!"
Wearily, Alassin begins to rub at a plate; but as soon as Mrs Cheng
is distracted, her movements slow to a halt.
"Mr Cheng! Mr Cheng!" calls his wife. "I can't get through to that
girl. You'll have to do something. Just look at her!"
Mr Cheng comes in and looks. Alassin is just standing motionless at
the sink. She is becoming shapely. Over the last few months, her
hips have rounded out, her shoulders broadened. Mr Cheng sees the
whites of her staring eyes reflected in the glass of the window.
Mrs Cheng throws herself at him, beating her fists upon his massive
chest in soft desperation.
"She just dreams and dreams. I don't know what's got into her
lately. And every time I speak to her, she just looks at me. Her
eyes frighten me. Do something! Please do something!"
Mr Cheng comforts his wife, then advances to the girl at the sink.
He goes to touch her, then draws his hands back.
"Alassin!" he says, fiercely.
She turns. Her eyes are big and dark. She does not blink. Her mouth
is lax and pretty. She is becoming a woman.
He looks again into those eyes, and is suddenly furious.
"If you won't work, then into the cellar you shall go!"
Grabbing her by the waist and lifting her as if she were weightless,
he throws the cellar door wide and bounds down the steps into the
darkness. At the bottom, he throws her roughly to the floor.
For a moment, Alassin is stunned. She hears his heavy footsteps as
he mounts the stairs, slams the door - and locks it.
Silence. Darkness. And even in the darkness, the whites of her dark
eyes seem to glow with bitter fury.
After a while, Alassin's anger begins to subside. She has never been
down here before. She is curious. She begins to feel about her, her
eyes round and wild in the deep darkness. And then she finds
something. It is hollow, and tapers to a little point. It is shaped
like a lamp, an ancient oil lamp. Carefully she feels in the hollow.
There is just a little oil. It is smooth, it is pleasant on her
fingers. She rubs the lamp. There is more oil. More and more. This
thing is magic. Soon, she senses a strange glow.
Angry feet stamp about in the kitchen overhead. Voices are raised.
Alassin does not hear them. The oil is smooth, and very pleasant to
the touch. Soon, the eerie glow seems to fill her whole body.
Gently, she rubs. And as she rubs, the glow flickers into a light, a
light which fills the whole cellar. Alassin gasps. It is blinding,
and still it seems to grow and grow.
"Oh!" cries Alassin, amazed, as the light seems to shatter - and lo!
the cellar is filled with gold and precious jewels. For here, down
here in the cellar, is treasure beyond compare. It is the answer to
all her longings, all her yearnings.
Hours later, "What can she be doing down there?" Mrs Cheng complains
to her husband. "I hear her moaning, but she makes no attempt to get
out. Go and find out what's happening down there!"
Mr Cheng is a big, strong man, but there is something strange about
that adopted girl of theirs. Cautiously, his heart beating
uncomfortably in his chest, he approaches the door. "Alassin!" he
calls threateningly. There is a soft moan, but nothing else. He
opens the door, and is amazed to see the cellar flooded in dazzling
light. Immediately he closes the door. He turns to his wife, who is
looking at him blankly.
"Did you...?" he falters.
"What?" she snaps angrily. "Go and see what she is doing!"
Mr Cheng realizes that she has seen nothing. "Dear, just go and look
after our customers," he says softly, "I'll deal with this."
She obliges.
Once more, carefully, Mr Cheng opens the cellar door, blinking in
the fierce light from below.
"Why... Alassin... What is that light?"
"It is... something I have found." Alassin's voice is steady and
cool.
Mr Cheng thinks fast. He swallows noisily. "Give me that lamp, and I
will let you out."
There is a long silence. Mr Cheng blinks in the dazzling light. At
last, there comes an answer.
"No. You let me out first."
Mr Cheng grimaces in frustration. He must have that lamp. "If you
give me the lamp, I will not make you do the washing-up any more.
You may do as you please, if only you give me that lamp."
But from below comes the teasing reply: "Perhaps I prefer to remain
down here."
Mr Cheng pounds his fist into his palm. "A thing like that - in the
hands of a mere girl... it is monstrous!" he mutters fiercely to
himself. "I must have it. I must trick her somehow." The light is
blinding. It seems to mock him. "Alassin!" he calls out. "Alassin!
I will give you anything - your heart's desire!"
Alassin gives a contemptuous little laugh. "First, you let me out,"
she says.
The bead curtain behind him twitches. At once Mr Cheng slams the
door and turns. His wife is there. He blushes guiltily.
"Well? Did you get any sense out of her?"
"Darling... give me time. Five more minutes... please!"
Mrs Cheng's mouth sets in a hard line. She jerks her head in
disdain, and wheels back to attend to the customers.
When he is sure that she is gone, Mr Cheng reopens the cellar door.
The brilliance of the light still shocks him.
"Yes... all right... You can come out. Anything you say, Alassin.
You shall sleep in the best bed..."
"You're just saying that!" Alassin's voice is sceptical, petulant.
The light seems to glow brighter than ever.
"No! No!" Mr Cheng sounds frantic. Obscurely, he knows that the
light is not good for him; but she cannot be allowed to keep it.
"Just come out! Please! If I grant your heart's desire... will you
lend me your lamp? Just for a little while?"
"If you let me out..." Alassin seems to be in no hurry. "...I just
might..."
Mr Cheng breathes a sigh of relief. This seems to be working.
"Anything, Alassin. You have only to ask."
"Would you grant me three wishes, then?"
"Yes, yes, if only you will give me your lamp!"
"I thought you said 'lend'." Alassin's tone is light, mocking.
"Yes, just for a few minutes only!" Mr Cheng cannot conceal his
desperation.
"But you will grant my three wishes first?"
"Yes! The three wishes first! Anything you desire! I promise!"
There is a quiet little laugh, and the light begins to subside. As
Mr Cheng watches, it fades into a dull, warm, red glow; and
presently, the cellar is quite dark again.
And then, noiselessly, Alassin comes up the stairs. She moves like a
dancer. Her flesh is pale, ghostly against the darkness: he sees how
beautifully it flows over her bones. Her mouth is soft. Her eyes are
round and staring. His heart pounds. He dares not lay a hand on
her.
She pauses and stares at him a moment. Her eyes are black, fierce
with anger. But her hand is gentle, as she extends one finger to his
cheek, and scratches it languorously with her nail.
Mr Cheng looks at her. He is speechless. He cannot move.
She looks at him. Her eyes burn, but her voice is cool.
"No," she says. "It is mine."
She turns and walks out. She moves beautifully. She is like a
princess: untouchable.
Mrs Cheng bursts through the bead curtain. Her husband is standing
stupidly by the open cellar door, as if in a trance.
"She just walked out! Cool as you please! And oh, that look she gave
me! How she frightens me! But why do you just stand and stare like
that? Tell me: what happened?"
Mr Cheng holds up his hands soothingly. "My dear, you will see:
everything will be all right."
Mrs Cheng is beside herself. "What have you done?" She rises on her
toes, clenching her fists. "You bastard, what have you done?"
* * *
Moral: Ye who dance not / Know not what we are knowing.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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