H

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Author: Ibraheem Abbas
Co-Author: Eng. Yasser Bahjatt

Copyright © 2013

All rights reserved.

Sales@Yatakhayaloon.com

Hawjan.com

Ibraheem Abbas and Yasser Bahjatt are the
co-founders of Yatakhayaloon—The League of Arabic SciFiers.

Its objective is to establish the Arabian Science Fiction Genre, making it stand out as a unique and new view of Sci-Fi that would also expose the world to our rich Arabian culture.

www.Yatakhayaloon.com

info@yatakhayaloon.com

@Yatakhayaloon @HWJN_English

www.Hawjan.com

DEDICATION

We dedicate this novel to everyone who has ever felt that we are not alone, that there are other beings that live amongst us but we cannot see, feel, or hear them. One form of such beings are called Jinn.

If you have ever felt like someone was watching you, or that things were happening that have had no explanation, we hope this novel would give you some insight into the world of Jinn and put you a little bit on edge…or maybe actually push you off of it.

Author’s Acknowledgments

I want to thank Ali Sheneamer, who listened to my story way before I wrote it and kept bugging me until I did; I also thank Abdullah Alsalamah who stood up and said the truth stopping all rumors about this novel. Finally, I want to to thank Yasser Bahjatt, my comrade on this amazing journey.

Co-Author’s Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Dr. Arlan Andrews Sr., who put me on the spot during his session in GCF2012, forcing me to think seriously about the Arabian Science Fiction industry and how to help in its creation. I also thank Arthur Zards, who pushed me to pitch my sci-fi impact concept to TED, giving me a much-needed boost to move forward with Yatakhayaloon. Last but not least, I would like to thank TED’s Open Translation Project for the translation experience I had built through the program, as it was the first platform where I published my translation work. This experience was was essential for me to now be able to co-author this novel.

A story...

Before the Story

This tale was born of another tale… that is no less crazy. A tale that could not fit onto these paper pages but is engraved on the walls of our lives and hearts. It is the tale of an angelic spirit inhabiting a nymph’s body and living amongst us, thinking she was Human.

I lived a routine life until I met her. She awakened within me everything I am today. Because of her I got to know myself, and here I am—still trying to paint my emotions for her with every letter I write…

Every letter echoes with an eternal tone of affection.

This is all for you…

This is all because of your love…

My beloved Maina.

Ibraheem

(1)

Our Home Is Haunted…

by Humans!

Iam Hawjan…

Hawjan son of Meehal Al-Fayhee

My mother is Alzahra daughter of Elyaseen the Nafary.

A young man in my early nineties.

I will tell you my story…

My story did not really start until a few years ago with Sawsan … the Human.

You know what? I prefer not to talk with those who imagine me as a one-eyed monster with horns and goat legs. We, Jinn, always laugh hysterically when we see those traditional, naïve monster images you create of us. If you think you’ve never heard of us before, I assure you that you have. You surely have heard of one of the most powerful Jinn: Lucifer. Yes Lucifer is a Jinni, all the devils are Jinn, and Lucifer is their Master. Most believers refer to him simply as “The Damned.”

You look surprised… or maybe now you think of me as a devil… this is one of your shortcomings as Humans. By that, I mean, stereotyping.

Hitler was one of you Humans but you never see us saying that all of you dream of world domination or have ethnic superiority issues. By the same vein, not all Jinn are devils. The followers of Lucifer are, but there are other Jinn, like the Nafar, who follow the word of Allah. We also have classes of Jinn based on our powers, like Efreets and Marids.

For now, please forget about all that. Who I am, what species or what origin… what matters is that you hear my story and understand my feelings.

Yes, I see curiosity in your eyes. I know, I look very normal, just like any Jinni, although my mother sometimes exaggerates in pampering me and when describing my handsomeness, as I am her only son. I am sure you would reject the idea were I to tell you that we do not differ much from you. Do not ask me for details, as we have failed to introduce our selves to your imagination:

We are just like you: we eat, drink, sleep, feel happy and sad, get married, and have children, and…most of all, we love! Do we not live in this world with you as intelligent, responsible creatures? Do we not worship Allah and follow his messengers also like you? So why then would you imagine our world with this amusing, shallow view?

Let us get back to my story… Sawsan—that is one of your names; I had never really noticed it until I met her. It was also the name of the flower in the small garden she maintained on her windowsill. I was addicted to its scent from the small flower garden that she maintains on her window. Before I go on, allow me to chat about some prior events…

After I finished my studies with high recognition, I joined one of the largest therapy houses—a medical center, as you say—as an intern, then moved up to become a full-time employee with a nice salary. At that point my mother started her daily nagging, which she still repeats every time she sees me:

“Hawjan, Jane is good for you… Hawjan, I found you a very beautiful girl… Hawjan, Jeanette is amazing.”

When she comes at me this way, I gently change the subject, as I do not want to get married the traditional way—that is, I have no desire to choose between the tens of nominees. I know if my father were still alive he would settle this discussion for one of his nieces—, I think for Jumara specifically, the daughter of my elder uncle Santool. However, to me, that is impossible!

All my uncles are so deep into sorcery and black magic, they have signed contracts with the largest coalition of Marids and Human successors. Heaven forbid I ever follow their path! My father, may Allah bless his soul, was the only one of his brothers who refused to work in the service of sorcerers even though it would have made him many times what he earned at his simple job, which barely fed my mother and me. He also chose to marry my mother, who is a descendant of the Jinn that met Prophet Mohammad, peace be upon him, and heard the Quran from him. This group is known amongst Jinn as the Nafar; they are known for their high moral and ethical codes, which are contrary to my father’s family. So it was only logical that my mother and her father would raise me after my father’s death.

We are humanitarian Jinn, meaning we live in and adapt to Human societies—unlike most Jinn gatherings, which are annoyed by proximity to Humans and prefer living in their own colonies, away from Human cities and houses. Ever since I was born, I lived in this spot on the coast of the Red Sea around ten kilometers north of one of your cities: Jeddah. As your city expanded by filling in the sea, it occupied most of our village. Many of my neighbors moved because of that, but we stayed along with some others. Five years ago, you Humans started one of your huge development projects, and within a few short months the land around us had turned into a collection of scattered villas. We lived in one that remained unsold for more than two years, during which my exposure to your kind increased. Before then, I had not interacted with Humans as my curiosity had never pushed me to. I would, however, cross your city every day to get to work.

It never bothered me to be in that house. On the contrary, I quite enjoyed it. We set up the rooftop for my sick grandfather; I lived in one of the rooms; and my mother spent most of her time taking care of her father and praying under the staircase.

That was until one day when I came back from work and saw two cars parked in front of the villa. That meant one thing: the house was now haunted. Humans were moving in! I quickly toured the place and found my mother under the staircase, crying about her bad luck. I tried to calm her:

“Don’t cry,” I said. “Tomorrow we will prepare ourselves and leave. We’ll go to Ananoh or Hindabah. I’ve saved some cash and—”

“Don’t you dare say it!” she wailed. “I will never leave this place! I will never leave your father’s scent. I will not die away from the place where we lived in together! And what about your grandfather? He is sick and will not live through the move.”

I knew there was no room for discussion—not with her tears and her memories of my father. So I dried her eyes and said jokingly, “Why would these Humans bother us? We keep to ourselves. And anyway, we should not judge them before we see their manners. They might turn out to be peaceful humans who fear God”

My words did help to calm her down somewhat, so I went on: “Let me go check them out.”

The buyer of the house, Dr. Abdulraheem Saeed, was a self-made scholar with gray streaks in his hair and beard. They added to his poise. His wife, Mrs. Raja Maghrabi, had a Master of Science in Education and managed a High School. Their young son, Hattan, was about to finish High School, and their daughter…well, that was Sawsan.

A student in medical school, Sawsan was driven to realize her parents’ dreams. She always strived to be the best at school and maintain a perfect GPA, which was a rarity in medical school, especially in the finals years. She was a very serious young woman, and she turned into a shy kitten when she interacted with people. One would almost think she was a nine-year-old kid with her innocent smile and red cheeks. Sawsan tended to avoid mingling with her peers and spent most of her time with her books or her family, or alone with the flowers she grew in a small garden on her windowsill.

Watching Dr. Abdulraheem as he stood outside our small villa, I could see he had fulfilled a lifelong dream by purchasing it. Before then he had spent two decades of his life in a small apartment, paying rent and saving every penny for his dream house. His eyes now drifted over that villa, his mind torn between happiness and amazement that a man of his stature, with the highest academic achievements and a job as one of the main decision makers in the Ministry of Health, had to go through so much to own such a small home. It really in no way lived up to his dream home.

“Daddy… Daddy, I like this room!” Sawsan brought him back to reality as she pointed to the last room in the corridor—my room, previously. Before I even realized it, everyone was in there along with Sawsan.

“My desk will be here, my bed there, and here I will plant my flowers.”

Sawsan was so excited, and that rubbed off on everyone…except me. I watched them as they left, and understood, from Dr. Abdulraheem’s conversation with the real estate agent, that in less than two weeks they would be moving in.

(2)

Goodbye!

Forced to take a vacation from work because of the new Humans, I spent it comforting my poor mother and watching the workers prepare the house—painting the walls, changing the lighting, and laying out the furniture.

You Humans are obsessed with trivial things; we build our homes in days while you spend half of your lives on it, and the other half in choosing accessories.

I watched her too, the family’s flower: Sawsan. She jumped around her small room as if she were leaping through the halls of a legendary palace, carrying her paint-color snippets, fabric samples, and pictures of furniture. The first piece she set up was her small, window flower garden.

At that point my mother moved to the rooftop with my grandfather; I preferred spending most of my time in the yard or the storage room.

Extremist Jinn find it unacceptable to live in Human houses, but my kind follow a much more lenient view. We find it okay to live with them—I mean with you—so long as we do not harm one another.

Actually, I had no choice in the matter. My mother would not and will not leave that house no matter how hard I have tried to convince her, and I would never leave her there alone with my grandfather.

My life amongst you caused me a lot of frustration in the beginning, as I did my best to avoid interacting with you. I respected all of the Abdulraheem family’s privacy, and rarely did I stay in the same rooms as them. I do not think any of you has ever felt this way—to see someone who does not see you, or to carry the worries of the world while someone next to you is laughing at a comedy clip on TV. Or to suddenly wake up to the sounds of an argument that has nothing to do with you. Or to have to leave a room when a Human enters it and sneak out before she closes the door. These are not just examples; this has all actually happened to me. I would yearn for my room—I mean Sawsan’s room—so sometimes I would go and take a nap there after I came back from work. My shift ended at 8:00 a.m., and when I arrived she had already left for school. One day I was truly exhausted and went into a deep sleep. Suddenly Sawsan entered the room in tears and slammed the door behind her so I could not get out, and I had to stay in her room.

I sat on the floor next to the door, waiting for someone to open it so I could leave. I waited for a long time. Sawsan lay on her bed, crying bitterly. She buried her head in her pillow as her tears flowed. I had always thought we Jinn had enough worries, and we did not need any of your Human problems or complexities, but Sawsan… I had never seen her without a smile, as if her face muscles did not know any shape other than that. When I saw her crying, it piqued curiosity, and I felt pity for her. What on Earth could have made this child cry so? Who had that much cruelty to wipe away her angelic smile?

Half an hour passed while I awaited relief. Sawsan’s crying dissipated, and slowly changed into small gasps for air, then to silent sobs. Then I was frightened by a strong knock on the door behind me.

“Sawsan?” her mother called. “Sawsan! What happened? Sawsan? Open this door!”

The girl jumped to her feet. She was always willing to take any and all pain, but she could not handle her parents’ anguish for her. She skillfully drew that smile on her face despite her sadness, of which all traces were gone other than her swollen eyes and puffy nose. She hid the wet pillow under another dry one, pulled out a tissue to wipe her nose, and headed to the door.

“Yes, mother. Yes?” she said in an Oscar-worthy tone hiding her crying with an imaginary flu. She opened the door, and Mrs. Raja glanced at her in a suspecting way.

“Sawsan. Are you crying?”

I was tempted to take advantage and flee the room before I got trapped in there, but my curiosity got the best of me, so I stood near the door observing the situation, watching this talented actress.

“Mom, did you not hear what happened today at school?” she said in a theatrical tone, with clearly sarcastic fabricated sadness. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching her mother’s worry grow.

“What happened?”

“It turned out I had two exams today I did not know about. All the other students did well. I did not.”

“Really? And what did you do?”

“I had to cheat off of my friend, Farah…”

Her mother’s eyes widened as she shouted, “Whaaaat?”

Sawsan further faked her dramatic sadness. “And the professor caught us! And sent us to the dean, who gave us termination notices and—”

Her mother cut her off, shaking a finger at Sawsan. She had figured out that her daughter was fooling her. “Saaawwwwssssaaaan!”

The girl exploded with laughter. “What do you want me to do, Mother? You make mountains out of molehills. I only have a little flu, and you thought I was crying.”

Mrs. Raja fixed a lock of hair that was covering Sawsan’s eye. “You always do this to your mother. I will punish you for this later. Now go change, and come down to help me with lunch.”

Sawsan’s mother left the room, and I followed her in a hurry before Sawsan closed the door. Before I left I took a last glance at Sawsan… her eyes had gone back to emitting the hot, flowing tears that she had miraculously hidden from her mother.

I wondered who had caused you such sadness. The first thing I thought of was what all girls her age cried about: an emotional crisis! Perhaps she had been hurt by the charming prince she had been dreaming of. She had thought he would come and snatch her up with his strong arms, and throw her behind him on his white horse—only to find out he was nothing but a jerk who threw her off his phone’s contact list to make room for other fools. This story keeps repeating itself with you Human girls. Every day and every moment, you are so obsessed with your emotions. You never tire of your dreams. The luckiest of you uses her intelligence to distinguish a man from a jerk.

Days passed as they routinely do, and every day we got more used to the new situation. Sawsan and her family grew happier with their new home by the day as well. This family was very social by nature, and it did not take much time for their home to turn into a favorite gathering place for those around them, from extended-family get-togethers on the weekends to card nights for Hattan and his friends, who also came over to play video games and watch movies and—sometimes—study. Everyone was happy with these gatherings—other than my mother. The more crowded the house was, the more frustrated she got, and the more I had to try to cheer her up.

Sawsan’s friends hung out in her room all the time, discussing the latest in music and fashion. I noticed during these times that one of her friends would always come with her companion, a very tacky, insidious, and deceptive Jinni. He looked at me with askance every time they crossed the yard coming in or going out of the house. I found out later that his name was Dardeel.

I never really paid much attention to what was going on at these gatherings until one cold night when a scream coming from Sawsan’s room. I immediately jumped to her window, which was half open, to find her friend Rahaf crying hysterically. The other girls around her were trying to calm her down, and Dardeel was on his back in the middle of the room, dying with laughter. I did not understand the situation, but I could not contain my anger — I attacked that villainous character by yelling at him “What have you done to the girls, you vile thing?”

Still laughing, Dardeel tried to get me off of him. “Hey there, prude Jinni. Are you here to help these Human damsels? You afraid they’ll stop throwing their food leftovers in the trash for you?”

I could not keep my cool. I squeezed his skinny body. “If I see you here again, I swear to God I will kill you.”

The scumbag removed himself from my grip and fled to the window. His laugh turned into a mocking smile, and he looked at me. “Keep to yourself, you nosey, good-for-nothing Jinni. You defend these Humans, and they’re the cause of all our ordeals! They’re the ones who begged me to come and play. If you don’t believe me, ask them!”

With that he fled the scene, leaving the girls panicked and confused. One of them, named Khulud, came toward me, saying, “Come, girls. We need to release the spirits!”

Areej followed her, while Sawsan remained next to Rahaf to calm her down. I saw them coming toward me and looking at me— It creeped me out.

It was the first time I felt that one of you could actually see me. But then, I found out that they were going for a wooden board that sat on the floor underneath me. I stood still as Khulud and Areej sat on either side of it and put their fingers on a plastic disk that sat on the board.

Khulud said in a clearly nervous voice, “Goodbye…”

Her nervousness turned into fright as she repeated, “Goodbye… Goodbye!”

Areej repeated it with her as the disk moved beneath her shivering fingers. “Goodbye… Goodbye, Delma!”

Rahaf gasped for air as she watched them. Then she suddenly stopped crying and said in horror, “See? See? The Jinni has possessed me! I am possessed! She said she would possess me! I am possessed!”

Sawsan tried to calm her down. “Girl, don’t say that. This is just a stupid game. I can’t believe an educated girl like you would think that way.”

But Rahaf kept repeating, “I am possessed!”

Khulud’s tension was rising. She shook that disk beneath my feet and repeated with Areej, “Goodbye! Goodbye!”

I know that interacting with you Humans is forbidden, but in that situation I could not stop myself from stepping in to calm things down. I extended my hand toward the disk; the board had English letters and numbers on it, and pictures of the Sun and Moon, and some words like “Goodbye” “No” and “Yes”.

I understood the girls wanted to finish the game, so I started moving it. It slid over the board with the movement of my hand to the word “Goodbye” and the moment it got there I pulled back my hand as if I were afraid I would get struck by that thing if I kept moving it.

Everyone felt sudden relief except me. I think I was more terrified than Rahaf was! I jumped to the window and went back the storage room as fast as I could. I did not sleep all day. For the first time in my life, I had actually interacted directly with Humans, and I did not know if what I had done was okay or not. I would not dare reveal it to mother. It was truly a strange feeling.

For ninety years I had watched you Humans without ever feeling your existence and on that day, I communicated with you. I said one word: “Goodbye!” and then decided I would never say another word.

(3)

H W J N      S W S N!

Overwhelmed by my interaction with Sawsan and her friends, brief as it had been, I could not keep a hold of myself. I traveled immediately to Hindabah, one of our colonies north of the Red Sea, and met my friend Ghurman to ask him about what had happened. Ghurman was a wise Jinni who was more than three hundred years old, and had a long history with Humans. He had traveled around many of your cities.

I told him what had happened, and he said, “That was a Ouija board!”

“Ouija? I have never heard of such a thing. Is it a game? Because these girls were scared to death—and I was even more terrified!”

Ghurman laughed, “I guess it’s only logical that you’ve never heard of it, as it’s not common in the Arabian world. It’s a very ancient game between us and them, that I think originated in India and is now very popular in the West.”

“Really? Sawsan and her friends know how to call on us?”

Ghurman sighed. “Why do you have to make such a big deal out of it? It is a very simple thing, really. With the Ouija we do not interact with the Humans directly. Listen, it is true that humans are limited to their muddy dimension, but their spirits feel all dimensions, very few of them recognize those feelings, what happens is that when humans gather and concentrate their connection to their soul is clearer, thus they better feel our movement and move the Ouija piece with us”

“You mean Dardeer was making them believe he was a female Jinni that possessed their friend?”

“No doubt! A lot of Jinn enjoy playing with the Humans. And every time he made up a new story they believed him.”

I came back from Hindabah with one thought on my mind: Could I really communicate with Sawsan? The more I pushed the idea away, the stronger its hold on me became, especially when I watched Sawsan. Every morning before I went to sleep, she watered her flowers and sang and talked to them. I wished I were a flower on her windowsill, living on her sweet whispers and songs.

“Hawjan? Where have you drifted off to?” My mother’s voice interrupted my imagination as I watched Sawsan one morning.

“Mother? Nowhere. I am here”

“You haven’t been yourself lately, ever since the day these Humans moved into our home. You stay awake all day and keep circling their daughter. That is not right!”

“Mother, you know this was our home before they were even born. It’s not easy for me to move out of my room to the yard so suddenly after all these years.”

“Hawjan! I am your mother. Do not play games with me. It’s not right for us to invade their privacy in their own house. Don’t you dare get close to them, you hear me? If you care about my feelings, keep away from them.”

“Seriously, Mother? Of course I would never get close to them. I have no capacity for Human problems on top of ours.”

My words did little to put her concerns to rest, but her words ignited me. Was I really attached to a Human? No, no. That was impossible. Then why did I, who had known hundreds of Jinn whose beauty and fame had not moved a grain of emotion in me, stand now beneath the balcony of this Human female, moaning to the sound of her song to some flowers? I used to pity the Human lovers who filled mental institutions to get cured of their Human attachments. Now I had become one of them.

I remembered asking my aunt, “Is your passion for that Human worth destroying your life and his?”

“Hawjan,” she replied, “love does not distinguish between Human and Jinn.”

Love? Could I have fallen in love with a Human? Was it possible that I loved you Sawsan?

This kind of love might be some form of madness. Could we overlook the radical differences in our forms, the fact that we could not communicate, the age difference that always seems to be an issue for you Humans? (For us Jinn this is normal. My father was eighty-eight years older than my mother.) Was my aunt’s saying right? Was love really above all differences?

I convinced myself—rather deluded myself—that a little bit of attention, curiosity, and admiration did not harm. At the end we had our own lives in our own worlds, one of which was hidden from the other. It was enough for me to watch you Sawsan from afar, to listen to and enjoy singing.

Oh, but what tore me apart was that she did not notice me. She did not even know I existed! I thought about this while I was in Sawsan’s empty room one day, between her bed and desk. The door suddenly opened, and she came in, closing the door behind her. She seemed anxious. She opened her computer and inserted a USB drive she had taken out of her bag. Sawsan’s worry rubbed of on me, and my curiosity forced me to stand behind her chair and watch the monitor. Some dark pictures appeared on the screen. I recognized a cross-section of a Human head—I’d had to learn Human anatomy at school.

Sawsan flipped through the images. I saw a pale spot in them, which meant only one thing: this person had a deadly tumor in his head. I turned to Sawsan when I heard her begin to cry quietly, as if she were afraid someone might hear her bitterness. Her tears flowed down her cheeks and dropped on her keyboard, her eyes fixated on those images on the screen. I stretched out my arm. I knew it would not touch her, but I passed my fingers across her cheeks as if I could wipe away those tears.

She wiped at them herself, and I saw her hand go through mine. Sawsan shivered and looked behind her, making me shiver as well. She slammed her laptop shut and rubbed away her tears in a hurry while running toward the door. She had heard her mother coming. I got out in a hurry, and looked behind me to see Sawsan floating from the depths of despair to the summits of cheerfulness as her mother came in.

Could it be that Dr. Abdulraheem had cancer? I had heard him talk so many times about how old age was treating him and the pains he had. I thought those were normal symptoms for a person who had gone through so much just to provide a house for his family and see his kids grow up to face the battle of life. Everyone who gets to that point starts obsessing about age, but I never thought it’s that serious.

After that I took any chance I had to be near Sawsan, but I vowed to myself that I would avoid being with her when she was alone. I respected her privacy. Sometimes, however, I would break that vow when I could not resist watching her—from afar, of course—as she perform her daily ritual of pampering her flowers.

Then came the night when Sawsan and her friends (Areej and Khulud) went to a café on the coast, and as usual my curiosity got the best of me. I followed them there. I hesitated as I trailed Khulud’s car, and almost went back home when I remembered my mother’s words, but I brushed that thought aside and kept on going. When the car stopped at a traffic light, I came close to the rear window and eavesdropped on Sawsan and her friends. They talked and laughed about the same old topics: boys and their adventures as well as the latest fashions.

Suddenly Khulud gasped for air and looked directly at me. It frightened me, and I pulled back quickly.

Sawsan asked her, “Khulud, what’s wrong?”

“I felt like someone was watching us through the windows.”

Areej interrupted her. “Can you stop with all your ghost stories? We’re really not in the mood for your superstitions.”

“Khulud,” Sawsan added, “you’re so affected by all those superstitious movies you watch. You should really stop watching them!.”

But Khulud was sure she had felt something: my presence!:

“I swear to God, I am not joking,” she said. “I truly felt as if some shadow was watching us through the window, and then suddenly disappeared!”

Areej lost her temper. “Can you please stop frightening us? Isn’t what happened to Rahaf that day enough?”

That line of discussion was over, but my worry was not. I’d heard before that some of you can feel our presence, or even see us. Some of my friends had told me their kids played with Human kids, and some swore that some Humans could actually see them. But the barrier between our two races is a mystery we know so little about.

I followed Sawsan and her friends into the crowded café. I felt uneasy with so many Humans around me and was suspicious of anyone who looked my way after the shock Khulud had given me when she’d noticed me in the car. Luckily the girls sat at a four-top table, so there was an empty seat for me. As they talked, I drifted into observing that Sawsan was different from the rest of them. She did not share their shallow mentality; although she would complement them with a smile or a nod, her eyes showed a sadness no one recognized but me.

I wasn’t interested in anything they talked about until Khulud reopened the topic of Jinn. I know that Jinn stories have a lot of suspense, pleasure, and fear, and we’re an important subject of discussion at your gatherings. However, as I mentioned before, I have had it with all of the exaggeration with which you describe our reality. Everyone who notices a blanket swaying in the wind on a laundry line claims to have seen a flying bearded man with light coming out of his eyes. Yet I felt on that day honesty in Khulud’s words. As she told her stories of situations that had happened to her personally, most of them seemed at least logical to me. Sawsan and Areej were lured in by them too.

Then Khulud said, “How about we try talking to them again?”

Sawsan asked, “ Did you bring the Ouija board with you?”

Areej objected. “Why don’t you just cool down, girl? I’m getting married in a month, and I’m not planning to go to my wedding possessed.”

Khulud ignored her. “I don’t need the board. Jinn are everywhere. We can chat with them whenever we want.”

She moved the coffee cups aside, removed the paper tablecloth, and flipped it over to the white side while calling out, “Excuse me, please!”

One of the waiters came rushing over, and was a bit surprised when Khulud asked him only for a pen. He brought one, and she wrote the Ouija letters and numbers on the white paper. She was sure the board itself did not have any magic, and this communication could be done in other ways.

When our Jinn expert was done preparing the primitive board, she scanned the area, looking for something. Then she smiled and picked up Areej’s plastic water bottle. “I’m borrowing your bottle cap.”

“You want to cast a spell on me?” Areej asked, sounding a little bit frantic. “And have you ever seen an Arabic Ouija? How far have we advanced?”

Khulud ignored her again. “Come on, girls.” She dropped the cap onto the paper. “Each of you put a finger on it.”

My curiosity fell back this time in light of my fear of Humans—and my promise to my mother.

“Is someone there?” Khulud asked. “Is someone there?” She repeated the question, and Areej joined her.

“I guess Jinn don’t go to Starbucks!” Sawsan said, and Areej laughed. So did I.

But Khulud went on. “Is someone there? Is someone there?”

This chance may never have repeated itself. I could talk to Sawsan! I could tell her who I was, and how her eyes made me—a Jinni—melt. And how her singing mesmerized me.

“It seems you’re right. There are no Jinn here,” said Khulud. She just gave up.

Areej removed her finger from the bottle cap and asked, “Do you really believe the stories? I think it’s all just delusion. Jinn have no time for us! Give me back my bottle cap. I hope it’s not cursed now.” Her face brightened. “Hey! I need to get my fiancé to drink from this bottle so he’ll fall even deeper in love with me—and see every other girl as one of the Three Stooges!”

I pushed my arm toward Sawsan’s hand, like a person trying to reach out and catch an expensive, crystal masterpiece before it falls. Who ever makes that catch? She pulled away before I reach her, so only Khulud’s hand was left there along with mine. I tried hard to move the bottle cap toward the word “Yes.” I tried and tried, but the cap did not move an inch.

“Girls, we must say goodbye just in case. Maybe there was a Jinni. I’m serious! I’m not joking.”

Areej ignored her; she was talking to her fiancé. Sawsan moved her hand toward the cap, and my heart exploded. (Yes! I have a heart.). I went back to trying to move the cap with my shivering fingers. Finally it slid slowly toward the word “Goodbye.”

Khulud was astonished. “Is someone there?”

I moved the cap toward “Yes.” Khulud smiled, while Sawsan’s eyes widened.

Areej’s jaw dropped, and she ended her call. “Loai, I’ll call you back. Bye.” She threw her phone to the side and yelled, “You guys are joking, right? This is not funny!”

Khulud responded, “Fast, put your finger with ours.”

Areej put her index finger on the cap. It started to float over the paper above the word “Yes.”

My friends, I was now talking with Sawsan for the first time in my life. What should I tell her? Should I say I was a Jinni? That I was older than her grandfather, who had died fifteen years ago? And I live with my family in her house? What a situation I’d put myself in. I wished I had not laid my finger on that bottle cap. I would have removed it immediately, but I feared causing the girls to panic like last time. But their courage tempted me to go on, usually the first contact between humans and Jinn is filled terror, panic and screams, but you get used to it after that, and I guess that happened with Sawsan and her friends as they got used to playing Ouija.

So I thought: What should I tell you, Sawsan? What would get you to admire me? Khulud did not give me a chance to sort out my thoughts. “Male or female?” she asked.

I moved my finger, and the cap flowed to the letters on the board. “M…A…L…E.”

“What is your name?” Khulud then asked.

Should I tell you my name, Sawsan? Will it surprise you? Will you laugh at it? Should I borrow a Human name? No, Sawsan, I will only tell you the truth.

“ح…و…ج…ن,” I spelled out. H…W…J…N.

“Ho-Jan?” The way Areej pronounced it sounded funny, but I could understand her confusion. In Arabic, although we have vowels, we only use them to bring extra emphasis to that letter. Simple vowel sounds are represented by marks on other letters. So for an A we have a dash over another letter, and for an E or I we have a dash under the letter. For the O or W we have a comma-like symbol over the letter. Now, as there were no vowel symbols on the girls’ makeshift Ouija board, Areej expected the H in my name since it was followed by the vowel letter “W” that it would have an O-like vowel. I move the cap to “No” and rewrote my name: “H…W…J…N.”

“That is what I said. Ho-Jan,” she repeated.

Sawsan said, “Maybe it’s Hawjan, not Ho-jan. Like my name.”

Again I was shocked! How stupid of me! It was the first time I realized my name was so similar to hers, which was spelled SWSN in Arabic. Hearing my name come from her lips was like hearing it for the first time in my life, as if I had just been born and she was the one who named me. I just fell in love with my name when she pronounced it.

However, Khulud’s question got me out of my simple mental party. “Your name is Hawjan?”

I awoke from my fascination and moved the cap to the word “Yes,” then moved it back to the letters: “H W J N… S W S N… H W J N… S W S N.”

“He’s fallen for you, Sawsan. You’ve always been a Jinni!” Areej said.

Khulud signaled her to shut up, then went on questioning me: “How old are you, Hawjan?”

Ouch! That was the question I had hoped they would never ask. What should I say?

“Y O U N G,” I spelled out. “9 0.”

Areej laughed as she said, “Is that a car plate? I swear this Jinni is so cool!”

“You’ve gone too far,” Khulud warned her. “This kidding is not acceptable.”

“Don’t worry. We have his girlfriend Sawsan here.”

As much as her first joke bothered me, her second joke tingled my feelings.

Khulud went on:, “Are you ninety years old, Hawjan?”

I shyly moved the cap toward “Yes.” Just before I reached it, Sawsan finally talked: “Married?”

Areej jumped in. “Surely he’s married, and has fifty kids and two hundred grandkids. He told you he’s ninety years old!”

I stopped Areej this time when I moved the cap to “No.” My heart jumped as I laughed. Sawsan’s question meant she was convinced I was young, or at least that was what I tried to convince myself of.

She went on to ask me softly, “Why not, Hawjan?”

And for the second time, I felt as if I had heard my name for the first time. But what should I answer?

Areej saved me with another joke. “Why? Don’t you have Jinn girls as beautiful as us?”

I moved to “No” as fast as I could and kept repeating it.

Areej said, “Sawsan, your boyfriend is a flirt! Khulud, ask him what he looks like. Where does he live?”

Sawsan let out one of her soft laughs. “Girls, we need to get back home. We have class early tomorrow morning. Did you forget?”

Areej agreed with her. “And the entire shop is watching us like we’re the girls in Charmed. Let’s leave with dignity before they call the cops.”

“Goodbye, Hawjan.” Khulud tore me apart when she said this. I moved to “Goodbye” and removed my hand from the cap. It stopped like a rock.

“Are we done? Can I close my bottle? Forgive me, Loai!” Areej cried.

As the girls collected their things in preparation to leave, Sawsan said, “It’s best we take this paper with us so no one comes along and sees it.”

She took the paper and stuffed it into her bag. leaving me with nothing but my mixed emotions. I stayed in the café, her soft voice saying my name repeating in my head until the sun came up.

(4)

Eyad…

I Hate You!

You Humans are very complicated when it comes to emotions. And, in my opinion, everything else, and I think you have infected me. Every time I try to understand your emotional structure, I fail. You live in the madness of love and the anguish of passion so long that love is impossible, and dissipates when lovers meet. When they live together. When their relationship moves from messages and late-night calls to a real fight with life! Then…. love transforms. In the best cases to a boring routine, to a list of responsibilities that both lovers must perform and they pretend to cry for the heat of their old passion. But less fortunate love transforms into a struggle, stubbornness, and a raging war to take hold: that usually ends with despair and separation. I know there are people who know the true meaning of eternal love—the kind that knows no selfish behavior, and days only add to its fire. However, these cases are rare.

One of them was Dr. Abdulraheem and his wife, Mrs. Raja. I knew this when I saw him opening the car door for her and flirting with his eyes as she climbed in, then closing the door behind her gently, like a nobleman from the Middle Ages. I saw her massaging his back every night as his pain increased, and I wondered how many years she had been doing that. I guessed real love such as this was worthy of creating a nest for a sweet angel like Sawsan.

Although she rarely left my thoughts, I did not see her save in the small moments when she leaned out of her window to tender to her flowers, or when she returned from school just before I left her room (previously my room).

Before Sawsan and her family moved into the house, I slept next to the wall, facing the window, but now, as her cabinet occupied that spot, I had to sleep behind the door. I spent the rest of my time in the small storage room at the corner of the garden, resisting falling asleep until Sawsan left with her father to go to school. At that point, I would seize the moment to go into her room, chasing what remained of her perfume, enjoying the view of her stuff before the maid cleaned up the room—her bed, her desk, her coffee cup of green tea. I wondered what her angelic calmness hid. Oh Sawsan! I wish I could take a stroll into your thoughts, to know how you think, what you feel and what or who occupies you thoughts!

One day, I came upon Sawsan’s diary, that last friend she talked to before she went to bed, and the only one lucky enough to know what she thought. Why would there not be a second? The thought frightened me! After all of the stories I had heard her friends tell, it was hard to believe that any young girl lived without adventure no matter how shallow it was. It was hard to believe there would be a girl without a story about a knight, or even about a jerk. There were girls who hid such relationships from their families for years.

But Sawsan…she was different. And how did I know that? I do not deny that sometimes—very few times—I would go beyond just watching from afar and would nose into her personal life. One night, when Sawsan was studying with her books and computer, a message appeared on the corner of the screen from a person named Eyad, that was her knight’s name!

“Sawsan, are you online? How are your studies going? I hope I’m not bothering you. But if you need anything, I’m staying up late.”

She did not respond to the message, but her smile bothered me. That ridiculously absurd chivalry that guys offer only to girls, and the clear confidence of girls that no guy can miss. I found myself, for the first time, getting upset with Sawsan! For the first time, you Sons of man had infected me with jealousy. I couldn’t believe it. Jealous of a Human whose age barely marked one quarter of mine? And named Eyad, no less?

I avoided admitting my jealousy of this Son of man for a while, even to myself. I justified it as being protective of Sawsan, so she would not be hurt by boys. That excuse allowed me to rationalize my getting closer to her to protect her. Honestly, the Daughters of man are in dire need for protection from the boys of this generation!

I remember in my childhood how girls had been revered as queens, protected by their fathers, brothers, cousins, neighbors, and even strangers who would stand up with gallantry and chivalry. All of that is almost extinct in today’s world. Today people care only about satisfying their animal instincts.

So no, I did not like this Human called Eyad. I did not like him at all. I imagined him as one of the many male students at the school of medicine who tried to charm each female student, thinking their manhood was complete though their parents still gave them money for gas and snacks.

That night Sawsan did not sleep; she stayed up studying. The next morning I followed her to the university. I could not sleep either, as I normally did during the day, because of my racing thoughts. A driver took her to school early that day because of her exams, and she sat in the back of the car, reviewing her material. I sat next to her and watched her. This was a new experience for me. I thought I would be the only Jinni up at that time, but I was shocked by the number of devils that wake with you Humans every morning.

Rush-hour traffic is a platform for a lot of your sins and calamities. I have no idea how you can tolerate the slow movement. It took us a half hour to get there—I can cross the sea and come back in less than an hour!

We finally arrived to the university and, as I had suspected, there were many Human males and females entangled in adulation and deception. Sawsan was highly respected by her professors and classmates alike; she was the brightest student in her class, she utilized the hours her female peers spent on makeup, the Internet, shopping, cafés, and phone calls to achieve her goal of excellence.

I could not immediately make out who Eyad was. I walked behind Sawsan and gazed at her peers, trying to read what they were thinking. Some liked her; others simply admired her brilliance. Others wondered why she had not covered her face with makeup like the rest of the students and only settled for a little bit of eyeliner and pink lipstick that was not really different from her lips’ color.

Then I heard a guy behind me. “Sawsan, how are you? Ready for the exam?”

I knew he was Eyad even before I turned to him, just from the way Sawsan smiled and shyly nodded her head without responding. When I did look, I saw he was the definition of a cool guy. He knew how to use just enough fashion to complement his innocent, handsome looks. Tall, athletic, light honey-colored eyes, dark skin, and I could clearly tell from his clothes that he was wealthy. In short, he was the perfect dream boy, and a real catch for any girl who could get him to pop the question.

“Hawjan, what’s wrong with you?” I thought then. “Are you comparing yourself to a Human? To a guy who can make her happy and help her to fulfill her dreams? Who can marry her? Live with her? Be a father to her kids? And even before all of that, she could actually see him, touch him, talk to him, and fall into his arms!” I really had gone too far with this insanity. I told myself to leave these Humans alone.

Seemed as though seeing Eyad had woken me from my foolishness. I left Sawsan at the university and returned home to sit next to Mother, watch her sleep, and finally fall asleep myself at her feet. I had not slept like that in a long time—a long, continuous slumber without thinking of Sawsan. I woke up hours later determined to present the idea of leaving this house to Mother once more, but just before I opened the subject, I noticed a fuss in the house—in Sawsan’s room specifically. My determination dissipated, and the pinch of sanity that had passed over me was gone. My passion and curiosity won out.

I went close to Sawsan’s window and found her friends around her while she laid on the bed. From their chatter I understood that she had passed out during the exam! My body shivered as I moved toward her. The smile on her face did not convince me as it did her friends and family. I know she was sad. Very sad. What happened to her? I did not know why, but I blamed myself for leaving her at school as if I could have done anything for her.

Areej told the others, “Come on, girls. Sawsan needs some rest. We need to leave. It’s almost midnight.”

Sawsan responded, “You can’t leave! Let’s stay up late. We have nothing tomorrow. Did you truly believe I’m sick? I’m just being silly.”

“Really?” Areej teased. “If that’s true then we should stay up all night. I’ve got some amazing movies you’ll love!”

Raghad agreed. “What do you think if we play that Jinn game you told me about? It sounds really exciting. I want to try it.”

“Should have mentioned that before our sorceress Khulud left,” said Areej. “She’s the one who knows how to call upon them.”

Sawsan laughed. “What a crazy mind you have. So she’s a sorceress now? Do you have no shame? This is just a mental game. I have the paper we used in the café the other day. Would you like to try some sorcery?”

Raghad shouted with childish excitement. “Yes, please, please! I really want to try it. I need some action!”

“It’s in that cabinet over there,” said Sawsan.

And as usual Areej seized the moment for another of her sarcastic statements. “It seems you miss your boyfriend Hanjan!”

“You mean Hawjan,” Sawsan said with a laugh that made me melt. She remembered me! But I wondered: Should I talk to them now? What should I say? I had to organize my thoughts. Time was not on my side as they opened up that paper on the bed.

Areej removed her ring, saying, “Loai, forgive me. I will have to curse you a second time!”

She laid the ring on the paper, and the girls put their fingers on it. Sawsan toke the lead this time:

“Is someone there? Is someone there?”

I raced to the ring. Put my hand over it and tried to move it, but nothing happened.

She went on: “Is someone there? Is someone there?”

“They might be asleep,” Areej whispered.

“Don’t press hard on the ring,” said Sawsan. “Just barely touch it.”

Rahgad lightened her touch, and the ring finally moved! I pushed it toward “Yes: and danced happily around it.

Raghad removed her finger from the ring in terror. “You’re moving it! Swear you’re not moving it!”

“Damn you! Put your finger back on this ring before we’re all possessed. Come on!” yelled Areej.

Raghad returned her anxious shivering finger, and I could not resist starting my chat with Sawsan.

“H O P E… Y O U… G E T… B E T T E R.”

They read it in shock. Not one of them made a sound. I shattered the silence with the scrape of the ring across the paper.

“H O P E… Y O U… G E T… B E T T E R… S A W S A N.”

“Thank you for your sentiment, but can you introduce yourself?” she asked—but she was smiling.

“Do you know how I’ll score on my exam?” Raghad butted in as her curiosity replaced her fear.

“No one knows the future but Allah,” Sawsan responded as I moved the ring to “No.”

“What is your name?” she repeated.

I moved quickly to “H,” but Sawsan jumped the gun. “Hawjan?”

I raced to “Yes” and hovered there in joy. I heard my name from her once more! But Areej had to intrude with her usual mockery.

“Did Jinn go extinct? Is there no one left but you? Sawsan, it seems this is your companion.”

Raghad asked me, “Where do you live?”

Where did I live? Should I frighten Sawsan with my answer? I dared not!

“Y A R D.”

“The yard of our house?” she asked.

I moved the ring to “Yes.”

Areej analyzed the situation. “Maybe he liked you in the café, so he came back with you and decided to live here in your house!”

I moved the ring to “No.” Then I spelled out, “I… A M… H E R E… F O R… A… L O N G… T I M E.”

“Really? So what brought you with us to the café?” asked Sawsan.

“C U R I O S I T Y,” I answered.

“Amazing. Just amazing! I swear this Jinni is one of a kind!” said Areej. “I told you he fell for you, and you didn’t believe me!”

“Let me ask him,” Raghad interrupted once more. “Let me ask him: Does anyone else live here with you?”

I moved the ring to “Yes.” “M O T H E R… G R A N D F A T H E R.”

“Only your mother and grandfather? No other Jinn live here?”

I moved the ring to “No.”

“Wait just a minute,” Areej said. “Didn’t you tell us you’re ninety years old? And your mother is alive? And so is your grandfather? How old is he? Two thousand?”

“4 2 0.”

“Are you Muslims?” asked Sawsan.

I moved the ring to “Yes.”

Now, Areej being Areej, she had to ask me the most embarrassing question: “Which of us do you like the most?”

I moved the ring toward Sawsan until it came off the paper and fell into her lap. I had no idea if that made her feel happy of frightened. She slowly retuned the ring to the paper.

Raghad asked, “You like Sawsan the most?”

I kept hovering over “Yes” and then moved over the letters. “S A W S A N… H O W… A R E… Y O U?”

“I’m okay,” she responded with a slight laugh.

“I like your Jinni. He’s so cute!” said Areej.

“Okay, so who of us do you hate the most?” Raghad went on.

“E Y A D.” I moved the ring without thinking

“Eyad? You know Eyad?” asked Sawsan.

I moved the ring to “Yes.”

What had I done? I was so stupid! I’d just admitted my love to Sawsan, and my jealousy of Eyad! I was frightening the poor girl. This was enough. I moved the ring and hovered over “Goodbye.”

Sawsan responded faintly, “Goodbye.”

The ring stopped, and I left the room in a hurry, as if I were afraid that Sawsan might see the look on my face. She kept staring at the window after I left. I had gone too far this time. I’d crossed the line, and I was angry at myself for being so reckless. But, I had to admit, I also felt a joy I had never felt before—the joy of telling Sawsan I was near her, that I had feelings for her…and that I was jealous. At least I’d let her know I existed. That was enough for me!

In the yard I found my mother standing in front of me, her face twisted with anger and sadness. “Hawjan, you disobeyed me! You disobeyed me!”

She vanished without giving me a chance to speak. Even if she had, I would not have found the words to justify my disobeying her when she’d made it clear to me that I should stay away from Sawsan.

(5)

Xanam

It was a very tough and heavy period. Mother would not talk to me, and I did not dare get close to Sawsan again. My life was split between home and work. I kissed Mother’s forehead every day, and still she would not look at me. I was sure her good, sweet heart would give in eventually, but it just wasn’t happening fast enough.

One day I came home from work and, as usual, went to kiss her forehead, but found her just sitting there looking at nothing. I asked her, “Mother? What happened?”

She did not answer, and she did not move. I repeated my question.

“Mother? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Grandpa?”

She answered in a short, worried tone: “Xanam.”

“Xanam? Son of Uncle Santool? What about him?”

“Your cousin Xanam was here! He asked about you, and about your grandfather!”

Xanam was the worst of my cousins. A devil in the service of sorcerers and the worshippers of Satan! He lived a luxurious life and cared about no one except for himself. What would he want of me?

Mother pulled me out of my thoughts. “He insisted that you must go to him. He said it is urgent.”

“I should go to him? No way will I set a foot in Qummah after what happened to father. There is nothing between Xanam and me.”

I ignored the topic. I had enough issues. But at least he’d gotten Mother to talk to me.

A few more boring, routine days went by, then one day I was surprised by a black cat waiting for me in the yard. He attacked me before I could figure out what was going on, and turned into my cousin Xanam.

“Playing hard to get?” he asked. “You think I cannot get to you?”

“Xanam? What brings you here? What do you want from me?”

“Shame on you! Is this any way to great your cousin? Is this how your religious father raised you?”

“If you ever talk of Father again, I will kill you!” I said while removing has hand from my shoulder.

He threw me across the yard with ease, then came close and said, “I’ll be more civilized than you and not respond to that insult. Just remember I can throw you to a place where no one will find you!”

“You’re a Marid now. True?”

“Almost. I’ll be an Efreet with your help. Of course I will pay you for your efforts.”

An Efreet is a Jinni who has physical material powers. He can control everything and can take forms. If the Efreet was a devil, he is called a Marid. And, as you can expect, they are not all the same. Stronger Marids can perform harder tasks, thus making more money.

I felt the weight of the world on my belly as Xanam stepped on me, making it harder for me to breathe. He continued without looking at me; he looked instead at Sawsan’s window and said with total indifference, “Didn’t your Human masters teach you love is blind? And for love there must be sacrifices?”

I understood he was hinting at my love for Sawsan. I tried to release myself from him as I said, “Don’t you dare—”

“Do not talk, you humanized fool! In short you either sacrifice for Sawsan, or you sacrifice Sawsan!” He increased the pressure on my belly, then removed his foot. “She is a Human, and Humans care most about their basic animal instincts. That means even the worst Human can provide more to her than you can. However, I have the key to both her and your happiness. Imagine living a real life with her and providing her with everything she ever wished for. It would be the most amazing love story—and no one would know you are a Jinni. Don’t worry, the sacrifice is very simple and won’t cost you a thing. You’ll live with Sawsan as a Human—flesh and blood—in the form she wishes for. You’ll become the knight of her dreams! Not the imaginary ghost that can’t protect her or touch her or talk to her.”

Honestly, Xanam’s speech awakened my dreams, but I was sure his damned soul was hiding a catastrophe. I tried to hide my emotions. “And what do I have to do for this intriguing offer?”

“The blood of Elyaseen, your grandfather!” responded Xanam without hesitation.

I cannot remember what happened after that other than my outrage and my injuries. I went at him, but it was an unbalanced fight that left marks on me that will be there forever—along with Xanam’s words.

“I only spared your life because I need you.” Then he told me as he slowly flew away, “You fool! Your grandfather hasn’t much time to live. Death is better for him than the pain of his illness. Do you know what we can do with the blood of a Nafar? We can achieve all our dreams easily. Become Efreets, do anything! But do not forget who you are. Don’t forget that the grandfather you defend was the one who turned your father on his own family. He made your father rebel against the way of his ancestors, and live and die as a beggar among the humanized!”

“Do you mean to tell me you’re proud of the way your father died?” I shot back.

“He died doing his Job” angrily responded Xanam.

“He faced the torment of this life even before the next, and was burned up by a meteor while in the upper atmosphere performing a deed for black magic!”

Xanam did not comment. He merely smiled and vanished in an instant, leaving me in terror and astonishment.

I could not go to work that night. My pain and sorrow were too much. I sat next to my grandfather, Elyaseen, who had fought through this life for more than four centuries. You Humans cannot imagine the pace of events we Jinn face; your lives are very short compared to ours, and your events are fast. Although we’re much faster than you when it comes to transportation, time does not carry the same weight for us. We see you as a short movie played in fast motion. When I was born your lives were not much different than what it has always been for thousands of years, there were no TVs, radios, cars, planes, or electricity. You were still moving on camels and donkeys. World War I happened just after I was born, and in World War II I passed by your planes as they shot at each other and fell from the skies like locusts. I was coming back from a visit with my father to The Islands of The Damned before his relationship with my uncles deteriorated.

All the Humans I knew in my age have died, and their grandchildren too are old—and all of this in less than a century. So imagine what stories I will tell your great-great-great-grandchildren when I am as old as my grandfather! Elyaseen lived through a long period of your history; his life was entwined with yours to a very big degree. He was born in Maddan (one of our greatest cities north of the Red Sea) after his grandfather had moved there to spread the teachings of Islam. My grandfather lived through a third of Islamic history. His grandfather’s father was one of the Nafar who heard the Quran directly from Prophet Mohammad, peace be upon him!

All of these thoughts passed through my head as I sat in front of my grandfather. He lay there as usual, nothing moving other than his lips. They keep uttering the name of Allah. Elyaseen looked at me every now and then with a gaze that went through me, as if he knew what I was thinking. I hoped to ask him for advice on how to get rid of Xanam, but I surely would not dare tell him what my cousin had in mind. Xanam could not harm my grandfather directly, as my mother always said protection words before she left him. Besides, a crime like that would cause an unimaginable war between our two families. That was why Xanam had come to me to help him kill my grandfather in a way that would not raise suspicion.

The situation made me hate myself. There I was, putting my grandfather, my mother, and Sawsan at risk because of my foolishness. I cried as I never had before. I felt my grandfather’s hand on my head, and for the first time in years he pointed to the sky and smiled, his lips still uttering Allah’s name.

(6)

Father’s grave and Mother’s tears

Mother gave up on talking to me about Sawsan. I had to admit I had utterly broken my promise to her on that front, because of my foolishness and impulsive behavior I could not put a stop to that situation. On the contrary, I was even more obsessed with Sawsan. I thought about getting close to her every night and every day, of finding a way to talk to her and spend time with her. Mother on the other hand had changed her view of Humans because of me, specifically of Dr. Abdulraheem’s family. Now she couldn’t stand them. She refused to eat their food, and did all she could to avoid seeing them. But that was not all. She hated them so much, she almost revealed our existence to scare them out of the house. It was the night when Sawsan invited her friends to a DJ party on the roof. I came back from work at dawn and heard the loud music far before I got home—and I heard Mother screaming. I went directly to the roof only to see Sawsan and her friends dancing to the DJ’s music, and Mother next to Grandfather in the corner.

“Enough!” she shouted. “Enough!”

And suddenly the party lights became very bright, and all burned out at the same time in a contained burst. The DJ’s speakers exploded, followed by a sharp whistle from the microphone. Parts of the DJ’s equipment burst into flames. The girls screamed in fright, and Sawsan tried to calm them down. Dr. Abdulraheem and Hattan raced to the roof.

I could not believe Mother had done that. I didn’t even know she had such abilities! However, even after the party was ruined and everyone left, she continued her crying.

“Mother, what have you done?” I asked.

The roof’s door slammed shut behind me. That was her response.

“Mother, you know scaring Humans out of their homes is not allowed. Allah would not accept this!”

“And what they do to us is acceptable? Can you see what’s happened to us? Can you see how your grandfather’s health is deteriorating? Can you see the way you act? Does Allah accept all of this?” Tears flowed from her eyes.

I tried to hug her and absorb her anger, but she avoided me. I knew deep down she repented for what she had done, but how could I calm her down? My heart bled for her sadness, and for my fear for my grandfather and my concern for Sawsan.

In the end, I decided time would help her to calm down, and things would return to normal. I just hoped this was not a weak attempt to calm myself. I didn’t even get a second’s sleep that night, and my worrying pushed me to stay around Sawsan the next day to know what her response to the incident was, as well as her family’s and friends’. They had a vast spectrum of responses. Dr. Abdulraheem insisted it was a normal electrical surge, I did not know if that was because of his cool head and vast wisdom, or because he could not comprehend the fact that his dream house, on which he had spent his entire life savings, was haunted. Sawsan’s friends exaggerate the events and connected them to what had happened with the Ouija board. They agreed Sawsan’s house was haunted, and that Sawsan was possessed. Even Sawsan was convinced she was surrounded by Jinn who wanted to harm her.

A couple of days later, Dr. Abdulraheem came home with a scholar who read versus from the Holy Quran and throw holy water around the corners of the house, especially on the roof. It hurt me to see Mother crying next to Grandfather. I watched in awe. How could this be? That a scholar from the Nafar was being treated like a devil? My mother, in her sadness and despair, was about to close the roof’s door behind the doctor and the scholar when they left, but Grandfather signaled to her not to do so. I wanted to leave, as my existence was adding insult to Mother’s injury and to her sensitivity toward Humans, but she called to me. I was shocked. I had not expected her to talk to me after the pain I had caused her.

“Hawjan, I need you. Don’t leave!”

She walked out the door, and I followed her until we were out of the house. I kept following her in silence. Mother moved faster. That kind of worried me.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Is something bothering you?”

“Shut up and follow me.”

In a few moments, I found myself far away from the city, on a mountain where no Human nor Jinn lived. Mother sat next to a water trail under a large boulder and moved her hand over the sands.

“Mother, I know you’re upset, but I swear to God I didn—”

I was shocked when I saw the sand move beneath her fingers.

We cannot interact with your world directly.

Our universe is parallel yours, like a one-way window—we can see and hear you and have limited interactions with your world, but you cannot feel anything in ours.

Mother wanted to let me know, without saying a word, that she was an Efreet, and that she had some Efreet capabilities. Such powers are limited to a very few of the Jinn elders, and I do not know how to gain them other than cooperation with Devil Marids, who ask for impossible terms to grant such difficult requests. So impossible that lots of Jinn lose their lives before their requests are ever fulfilled.

“I am not an Efreet,” Mother began, “but your father, before he died, taught me how to protect myself from Humans. I met him for the first time here. Our hundred years together passed like a dream.”

I listened, as I expected she would reveal to me the story of her and my father that she had always hidden.

“Our village was behind the mountain,” she said, “and I loved to come here alone on the day of a flood to play and watch. Our lives were simple. We rarely saw Humans save from afar, when travelers would pass through the valley. One day the floods were really strong and washed away the boulder I was standing on, taking me with it. I thought I was going to die!”

I tried to comfort her as she looked so over whelmed, but she went on as if I was not there.

“I then opened my eyes and saw your father. I’m not sure if I was happy because I had been given a new life, or if I was terrified because I was now at the mercy of a Marid. Yes, your father was a Marid! The strongest of all his brothers! In fact he was the chief of all Marids after your grandfather died. Anyway, when I first saw him, he could have easily taken my life without any of my family ever knowing. They would have thought I had been taken by the flood. But he didn’t. Instead I became the reason your father rebelled against your uncles and your entire tribe. He sacrificed everything for me. He left his possessions in the world of Marids and sorcerers, and fought the world so would could live together even though we could barely make ends meet.”

This was a shock I almost couldn’t comprehend! My father had been the chief of all Marids? And had fought his family over his love of Mother!

She got up, and we walked in the valley, the winds creating a dust storm along our path. “There was no one like your father,” she went on. “Do you know how many of the Nafar had proposed to me, and your grandfather refused to let me marry them? Yet he accepted my marriage to your father. That’s why the Nafar abandoned him. They told him, ‘How can you refuse us and marry your daughter to a Devil Marid?’ Your grandfather told them this Marid had repented in a way that made him closer to Allah than any of us.”

Mother suddenly stopped and turned to me. “You are all that remains of your father. It’s like I can see him here in front of me when I look at you. Even in your foolishness, craziness, and feelings. But you need to know something important: love made your father sacrifice the world of blasphemy, his power, and his entire family to live with me, and your love is making you sacrifice yourself, your family, and your love herself for your foolishness. You will not be able to live with the Human or protect her, and you will destroy her future! Tell me, how can you communicate with them? Or are you planning to turn to blasphemy and live in Qummah so the Devils will kidnap her for you, and then you will be assured a spot in hell?

Do you know what the difference is between you and your father? He loved me with nobility while you love the Human with villainy. Your father repented when he loved me, and you will sin because of the Human.”

How could I respond to that? These were the harshest words I had ever heard from mother in my life.

“Hawjan. Bury me here,” she said.

“Wait. What?”

“My will is for you to bury me here when I die. Under this tree, next to your father.”

“My father is buried here? Then whose grave have I been visiting for the past thirty years?”

“If your uncles ever found out where your father is buried, they would dig him out and bury him with them. That’s why no one knows his real gravesite other than me—not even your grandfather. I buried him here.”

A shiver went through my body as my mother fell on to her knees and started weeping. “Oh, Meehal, why did you leave me? Oh, how I wish my day came before yours! I wish I would die now and be relived of the burdens of this life!”

“Mother, do not say such things. Forget about the Humans. We can take our stuff and go live somewhere else.”

“May Allah ease my pain for leaving you, Meehal.” Then she suddenly stopped crying and stood up straight. “Your grandfather! We can’t leave him alone.”

She raced back home as if her intuition had told her that Grandfather was in danger, and I followed. I saw him at the dumpster near the villa—I saw Xanam. A black cat with a filthy, mocking gaze. I knew what he was up to, and I wished I could sever his head from his body, but I couldn’t touch him when he was formed in your world.

Mother noticed him and went toward him. He tried—but failed—to hide his fear of her behind a sarcastic smile. She told him “What business do you have here, son of Santool?”

“How did you know me, daughter of the Nafar?”

“Your uncle taught me a lot of things that you cannot imagine!”

Xanam quickly moved behind the dumpster and came out the other side in his original form. He understood what Mother meant

She could easily kill him while he was in his cat form, as he could only do what the body he was in could do unless he were an Efreet or a Marid. That’s why most Formers like to form as snakes, cats, or dogs. Each has its own abilities, and none of these animals are hunted, thus reducing risk. Formers also prefer the color black as it’s easier and more intimidating, so Humans will avoid them. If you want to know a formed Jinni, look directly into his eyes. His gaze is different from a normal animal’s, and you can easily distinguish the two because of the spark of intelligence that normal animals do not have and Jinn cannot hide, that is why a Jinni would avoid eye contact in fear of being found out.

Xanam was now back in our world in fear of Mother, who he suspected of being an Efreet.

“I heard there’s a haunted house here,” he said. “So I thought I should come ask about the rent.”

I attacked him for his repulsive mockery of my mother. He pushed me aside as I was trying to get a grip on his throat.

“Behave yourself, you filthy animal!” he said. “I told you before I’d kill you if I saw you here again!”

I think he avoided a clash with me and Mother as he was scared we would overtake him…yet he went on with his mockery. “Behave yourself, boy! When adults are talking, teenagers shut up. Just worry about your sweetheart!”

Mother kept her cool and used her strict voice. “I said, what are you doing here, son of Santool?”

“I came here on personal business. A wizard requested I do a project in this house.”

And for the first time I heard Mother defend the family of Dr. Abdulraheem: “You filthy liar. The family in this house are better than you and your wizard! Its owner knows God, he prays, fasts and worships, God’s name is always remembered in this house by him or my father!”

Xanam replies: “You have such confidence in humans! You really make me laugh!

It is true, we cannot enter this house just yet.

But, trust me, this is only temporary!

A human no matter who he or she might be, weakens after the first test and forgets about God! Tomorrow you’ll see for yourself. The owners themselves are the ones who asked for me, and no one will be able to stop me from entering the house.”

As Xanam was leaving, he turned to me to say his final filthy statement, only meant to raise the tension between me and Mother: “Don’t forget, cousin, if you need any help with the Human just let me know!”

Mother and I went up to make sure Grandfather was okay. We found him sleeping, so I left her with him and went to my room in the yard, were I tried to organize my thoughts and calm my fear of what the future may hold.

(7)

Cancer and the flower

That night Sawsan invited her friends over—maybe to prove that her house was not haunted. It was a limited-guest event with just a handful of girls. They spent most of their time in Sawsan’s room, avoiding the topic of Jinn for fear of hurting Sawsan’s feelings, or maybe for fear of a Jinni actually showing up. Their curiosity almost gave them away, but Sawsan courageously opened the subject as if she were ending the rumors.

“Girls, I’ve decided to ask the Jinn what upset them on the day of my party.”

Areej understood her objective and wanted to keep Sawsan from any embarrassment, and herself from any terror. “Sawsan, there’s no need for that. Just turn on a recording of verses of the Holy Quran and they will be gone.”

Khulud would not let such a chance pass her by. “If they were good Jinn, they would have enjoyed the DJ with us. There must be a reason. The only solution is to face them! Sawsan, bring a paper from the printer.”

Khulud started drawing the Ouija board. Areej was not happy about it, and the rest of the girls were nervous. I felt a hidden joy regardless of all the tension that was building up. Was it because I was going to talk to Sawsan again? What would I say? Should I seize the moment and confess to her how madly in love with her I was? That would terrify her for sure! Again the girls did not give me the chance to think it through.

“Is someone there? Is someone there?” Khulud called.

I know that if I did not respond they would stop. “M I S S E D… Y O U.”

Oh dear God, what had I done? I could not resist the opportunity! The room went numb until Sawsan brought it back life.

“Hawjan?”

I moved the marker to “Yes.”

Khulud was about to start her question, but I did not give her a chance to interrupt my chat with Sawsan. “F O R G I V E… M E.”

“Why did you do that? Did we harm you in any way?” Sawsan went on.

“N O T… M E.”

Khulud could not contain her curiosity. “Are there other Jinn in the house? Are they Devils?”

I moved the marker to “No.” “G R A N D F A T H E R… S I C K… M O T H E R… U P S E T…   S H E… D I D… N O T… M E A N… I T.”

Sawsan looked relieved. “Forgive us. We’re sorry. And please tell your mother and grandfather we’re sorry too.”

“H O W… A R E… Y O U.”

Areej could not pass up the chance to mock me. “My oh my! Your Jinni is drowning, Sawsan. How about if we leave the Ouija to give you some privacy?”

She left the plastic piece, making its movement very heavy, but with some effort I returned to its normal movement, then tried to ease the mood and get closer to Sawsan.

“I… W O R R I E D… A B O U T… Y O U…   D O N T… B E… S C A R E D…I… A M… H E R E.”

Khulud noticed the smooth movement of the plastic piece. “Here’s a thought. We should try it with one person. Sawsan remove your finger let me try to move it alone.”

Sawsan did so, and the plastic piece stopped like a rock even though I was trying as hard as I could to move it. If this worked I would be able to talk to Sawsan without her friends having to be there.

“Khulud, let me try alone,” Sawsan said. “Since he’s concerned about me, maybe he doesn’t want to talk to anyone else alone.”

She set her finger on the plastic piece and asked, “Are you there, Hawjan? Can you respond?”

I did my best to move my hand over the plastic piece, but nothing happened. I hoped her soul could detect my movement; usually one soul was not enough to detect us. That’s why movement was easier when more Humans participated.

I tried and tried. There was the word—“Yes”—and I was almost there. Sawsan closed her eyes to focus, and finally the piece moved to “Yes”. That astonished everyone.

“Sawsan,” Areej said, “shame on you. You’ve been moving it from the start and making up this love story with a Jinni? And I’ve been about to faint from terror!”

“I swear I didn’t move it. It moved on its own! Are you there, Hawjan”?

I moved the piece to “Yes.” “I… A M… M O V I N G… I T… I… W A N T… T O… K N O W… Y O U… A R E… O K.”

“Don’t worry. I’m great! I’m glad we cleared this up and that the problem is solved.”

“I… W A N T… T O… T A L K… T O… Y O U… A L L… T H E… T I M E.”

All of a sudden, terrified calm came over the room.

“D O N T… W O R R Y,” I added. “I… A M… M U S L I M… I… F E A R… G O D… A N D… I… F E A R… F O R… Y O U”

That seemed to calm Sawsan down. “How can I be afraid of my neighbor? I’ll talk to you whenever I find a chance.”

Thoughts filled my head. I couldn’t believe I was talking to Sawsan alone! I moved my finger over the board; thankfully the plastic piece did not show the anxiety I felt. It simply moved with a slow elegance. But I was afraid my thoughts would dissipate before I told them to Sawsan, and that I would never get another chance to talk to her alone.

“Y O U… D O N T… H A V E… C L A S S E S… T O M O R R O W… T R U E.”

I was sure Areej would intrude as usual, and she did—but this time to my benefit. “No, no, no. This is too much! Let’s leave, girls, before Hamanjan asks his Efreet friends to kick us out of here.”

Sawsan’s cheeks went red. “Areej, stop teasing me!”

“My driver has been waiting for me for a while now,” said Khulud, resolving the situation even further to my advantage.

“Hamanjan. Please tell Sawsan how we did on our exams, and I promise I will hook you up with all the Human girls!”

They started to leave, and Sawsan was about to walk them to the door, but Khulud told her with a strict voice, “Don’t you dare remove your finger from that piece without saying goodbye!”

And then they departed. And I was with Sawsan alone in her room. I could talk to her directly, tell her how I felt, even flirt! Some moments of silence passed. Both our hands were on the plastic piece, smiles were on our faces, and anxiety was in our racing heartbeats.

“Hawjan, are you still here?”

“A R E… Y O U… S C A R E D… O F… M E.”

“Why should I be afraid? Can you harm me?”

“I… A M… S C A R E D.”

She laughed. “You, scared of me?”

“S C A R E D… F O R… Y O U.”

“Don’t worry. I’m more of a Jinni than you are.”

She suddenly removed her fingers from the plastic piece. Leaving me alone on the paper, she got her tablet from her desk and lay on her bed. She opened a typing program and put the plastic piece on it. I understood what she wanted before she even called out to me as if I were a flesh-and-blood Human with her in the room.

“Come here, Hawjan. I think the concept should be the same wither on paper or a tablet”

The plastic piece flowed smoothly on the tablet, but it was too big for the letters. Sawsan removed it and said, “Let’s try it without the piece.”

I put my fingers directly on hers and moved them. I felt as if I were controlling them, but they typed all the letters they passed over on the keyboard, not only the ones they touched, creating long strings of illegible words and sentences. Sawsan released a childish laugh, and soon after, Mrs. Raja knocked on her door. This frightened me, and I removed my hands quickly as if she would have been able to see me while Sawsan switched to a youtube page as Mrs. Raja opened the door asking, “Sawsan? I can hear you out in the hallway. Who are you talking to?”

“I’m watching a new funny YouTube program called AlaaAltayer.”

“It’s late. Don’t you have classes tomorrow?”

“No, Mom, and I’m not really sleepy.”

“Would you like me to make you something to eat or drink?”

“No. I’ll go to sleep in a bit. Thank you for everything. Love you.”

Mrs. Raja left the room, and Sawsan switched back to the typing app as put my hands back on top of Sawsan’s on the tablet. Still lying on the bed, she whispered as if she were afraid her mother would hear her.

“We almost got busted!”

I responded in typing: “That was close.”

Sawsan and I were both shocked by how easy it was to type this way. She was so amazing. She talked, and I responded by typing with her fingers. The inventors of the Ouija board, both Humans and Jinn, would have been astonished by her invention. I wasn’t sure if such a method would be useful to others or if our relationship was a special case.

“Sawsan,” I asked, “what is on your mind?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You always cry alone.”

“Do you always watch me when I’m alone?”

“NO NO NO. I leave the moment you enter.”

“Then how do you know I cry?”

“The X-ray. Is your father ill?”

Sawsan was shocked by my question, and when tears started flowing down her cheeks, I regretted asking it. Her fingers passed through my hands; moments passed and she did not talk. I tried my best to type, but her fingers would not move. I hated myself and how foolish I was.

Then she said: “That was my X-ray!”

The news was heavy on my heart. I couldn’t think straight. This sweet flower who shined happily on everyone and everything around her had a brain tumor? How strong she was!

“I’m okay with my fate,” she went on. “And I enjoy every moment of my life without worry. I act like I don’t know I’m ill, and I don’t think of telling anyone. Allah is generous. He will take care of me. And by the way, you haven’t told me anything about you. Tell me something about Jinn and your family. I want all the details, please. Don’t leave anything out.”

I swallowed my sorrow and told her everything I knew. She commented sometimes and smiled at others, but before long her fingers got heavier and I could tell she was resisting her body’s call to sleep.

“I can’t keep my eyes open Haw…” she said softly as she gave in to her body’s demands.

I smiled as I watched her, sure that she felt it. I pulled my fingers away slowly, afraid my movement would bother her, then sat on the edge of the bed, adoring the smile that never left her face, not even when she was asleep. And my tears flowed—tears of joy for talking with Sawsan, and of sorrow for her illness.

(8)

Four hundred and twenty years

Ihave considered stopping this tale more than once. Why should I waste my time relating my problems and concerns to you? And why would you waste yours reading about them? I guess it’s curiosity—you Humans are full of that. I understand you are by nature worried about what is hidden, about mysteries and the unknown. I guess this insight into my life’s details might somewhat ease your concerns, or it might be an indulgence into your hobby of frightening yourself. I do not understand what you find amusing about terror. You make movies you don’t even watch because you are too busy closing your eyes and screaming! Regardless, I have chosen to go on telling my story.

A few weeks passed. I talked to Sawsan almost every day. We spent hours together, and she never made me feel as if I were a monster from another dimension. She was merely curious about the secrets that joined our two worlds. I never felt that I was more than four times her age; on the contrary, Sawsan’s maturity always astonished me. I did not expect her to comprehend all the information I gave her about our world, but we talked about everything. Our questions would flood the conversation every time, and we would search for the answers together—agreeing sometimes, disagreeing others, arguing even more. I would have loved to share the intricate details of our interactions, but my story has no room for that here.

I spent the best days of my life with Sawsan. I read her books with her, watched her movies, listened to her music… I even helped her buy clothes and accessories off the Internet. She would talk, I would move my fingers over the keyboard, and she would type it directly as if the barriers between our worlds had dissolved, and our souls were entwined.

She once asked me about the secret that kept the Jinn world hidden from Humans—the barrier that all of your advanced scientific and technological methods had failed to cross or even detect.

Humans seem so uninterested in any evidence that you are not the only intelligent beings in this universe, and that is your main problem: your vanity. Every time you discover a trivial scientific fact, you think you know the secrets of existence and refute anything your small world cannot comprehend. Life is much deeper and more complicated than the theories and formulas you try to cram everything underneath!

I tried to explain that to Sawsan so many times.

Life has so many intertwined dimensions and layers on top of each other, the smallest of which is your world. Yes, with everything—all the planets, stars, and galaxies! You call it the material world because you can touch and feel it. But it’s followed by other layers that engulf your world with other worlds you do not feel: our worlds, the world of the Angels, and the worlds of the spirit. Each level feels and experiences the worlds that are beneath its own. However, no one can move between worlds without special abilities that Allah gives to whomever he wishes, or by using pure magic and the secrets of Babylon, or by getting the privileges of the Efreets and Marids.

This is called a multidimensional theory. I watched some of your documentaries on that with Sawsan, and you came close to solving the mystery through the Membrane Theory. However, I think you still need a few decades to prove in a scientific way the existence of other dimensions that are parallel to your own. For now just imagine that we are in similar worlds that are parallel, and that we feel you but you don’t feel us.

The ability to materialize in both worlds is the most powerful weapon of the Efreets and Marids, and varies from simple effects such as making noises or controlling electrical current, heat, and light all the way to materializing fully in your world. Although many claim to have such powers, they are very rare, and a lot of Jinn have died trying. Not many Humans have survived coming to our side either.

Sawsan felt my existence when I was near her. She knew when I got back from work, and she prepared her tablet and coffee. She offered me some every time knowing I would not taste it, and my heart would melt.

We would talk so long, we would fall asleep, and I would wake to her gentle voice as she fiddled with her tablet: “Hawjan? Are you still here?” As if she were afraid to bother me.

Once when she slept during our chat, I went to rest in her flower garden at the window. But my dreaming was cut short by Mother’s nervous call. I woke up and went straight to the roof, where I saw Grandfather sitting up straight after spending decades lying in his bed. He pointed to me with his shaking hands, beckoning me to sit next to him, as his eyes searched for something out on the horizon. The silence of the night was only interrupted by Mother’s sobs. Then Grandfather decided to talk, and it was as if I heard him speak for the first time.

“When I was a child, I saw The Battle of Harratain. I know no one else alive who has seen that battle.”

“May Allah extend your life, Grandpa, and keep you well,” I said.

“I was in my youth when the city of Yatmah drowned.”

When someone is about to die, he remembers the past and reminds himself of death, especially when one awakens suddenly from a long sleep. That is the awakening of farewell. Mother was sure this was happening to Grandfather despite my attempts to dismiss the thought.

“Grandpa, you need to rest. In a few days you’ll regain your health, and we can go for a pilgrimage… And…”

Grandfather did not hear a word I said. He turned to me. “Meehal was the most chivalrous, manly, and honorable Jinni I had ever seen in my life. He asked me to take care of you and your mother just before his soul left his body, while he was in my arms.”

Mother sobbed as Grandfather reminded her of my father, but he went on talking to me as if she wasn't there. “Meehal sacrificed himself so we can live. They wanted him to be their king, but he refused. They threatened and tortured him to give us up, but he stood to them until they killed him… Hawjan…”

“Command me, Grandpa.”

“Take care of your mother.”

“Grandpa!”

“And take care of yourself. And those kind Humans. Two Marids have been circling the house for some time now. I know what they want…”

I wondered if he knew what had transpired between Xanam and me. Did Grandfather know of the shameful position I had put him and Mother in? Did he know that his life was in danger because of my foolish relationship with Sawsan?

“I do not have many days to live,” he continued. “What would they gain from an old man waiting for his time? They are here for you, Hawjan! Do you remember your father?”

Grandfather felt my face with his shaking fingers and smiled. “It is as if I see Meehal in front of me. You got everything from your father—a spitting image! You have no idea how much they’re hoping you will go back to them so they can gain back what they lost with your father. Allah gave him powers their strongest Marids would not even dream of. They want to marry you to your cousin so your father’s offspring will remain amongst them! Beware, Hawjan, of going back to them. Beware!”

His last statement was heavier on my heart than a mountain: “I took this responsibility from your father, and today I hand it over to you, Hawjan.”

He coughed violently, as if he were throwing out the last burdens from his chest. I lay him down in his bed gently. Mother and I did not leave. I slept next to his bed, and every time I opened my eyes I saw her gazing on his face or wiping his forehead, her tears flowing in silence.

As I lay there waiting for the inevitable, I thought about my job. I would probably lose it due to my repeated absences. Once they had offered me a house near my workplace, far from Humans. I now wished I had accepted the offer before things had gotten so complicated.

Grandfather did not ask me to take care of Dr. Abdulraheem’s family for nothing. I wondered what Grandfather was hiding. And who were the Marids circling the house?

The house’s vibe had changed in the following days with Grandfather’s illness worsening and Doctor Abdulraheem was always preoccupied with his worries, especially with the illness of his life’s flower, Sawsan. In such circumstances, one should ascend his  trust and connection to God alone while taking real steps for a cure, and one must be aware of any impostors! Such was the dark path that Sawsan’s father had slipped into, his despair had pushed him towards hopelessness. Without any suspicion on his side, it only took him further away from God and complete trust in God’s wisdom, kindness and mercy. This only made Dr. Abdulraheem and his family an easier prey for impostors and devils.

At one point a car stopped out front; it was Abu Attiyah, Dr. Abdulraheem’s friend, and with him was Shaikh Mussa Takkaw, an African sorcerer who claimed to be religious but his marked rings give him away. Xanam followed, and another Marid who never left Mussa’s side. Now I knew why Dr. Abdulraheem had not gone to work this day!

I quickly went down without anyone noticing me. I slipped in through the kitchen window and went into the dining room, which was separated from the living room by a shade. I held my breath and listened to what was going on without anyone knowing I was there.

Abu Attiyah spoke. “Abu Hattan, I swear to God, I only insisted on bringing Shaikh Mussa because I cherish you. He is a blessing and can see the unseen.”

In Arabian culture a man is usually called by a reference to his elder son, such as Abu (which means “father of”) Hattan in the case of Dr. Abdulraheem.

Shaikh Mussa clearly could not contain his vain smile. He was uttering sounds that would make those around him believe he was engulfed in prayers to Allah.

Abu Attiyah went on. “Ever since the day you told me about what happened in your house, he immediately knew: your house is haunted with protector Marids.”

Dr. Abdulraheem cut him off. “But this event had happened months ago, and nothing has come of it. We say our protection prayers every day and verses of the Quran.”

“You must know this entire real-estate project was built on a Jinn village! And their king’s treasure is directly beneath your house!”

Making sure not to give Dr. Abdulraheem a chance to denounce that thought, Mussa talked for the first time. He had an African accent. “These are treasures God brought to you from above seven skies. Who would reject what God brings to their doorstep?”

Abu Attiyah tried to play on Dr. Abdulraheem’s weaknesses. “Abu Hattan, Shaikh Mussa, God willing, can convince the Marids to leave the house and reveal the treasure that has been legally yours since the day you bought the house and the land it is on. This is not an easy matter! But seriously, why would you reject such opportunity? Can you tell me what you’re leaving your kids with after your time here has passed?”

Abu Attiyah, knowing he had successfully manipulating Dr. Abdulraheem’s emotions, went on enthusiastically. “Will you leave them with the mortgage payments? How will you pay for Hattan’s wedding? How will you provide them with housing? Do you want them to go through the hardships you went through? Life is not as easy as it used to be, Doctor! This is a chance God has given you! And your kids are a responsibility you must take seriously. God will not forgive you if you take this chance away from them.”

Mussa saw how Dr. Abdulraheem reacted to this and went in for the kill. “As God my witness, Doctor, I only seek His favor. I only came because Abu Attiyah, who is very dear to me, has praised you and asked me to help. I do not like to unveil these things. It takes a lot of effort and involves huge risks. But we will ask God for strength, and no Marid or Devil will stand in our way if it is God’s will! I’m willing to prove to you that we will rely only on the Quran and righteous Jinn servants. If you give me a chance I can find out the size of the treasure and get the Marids to show it to us so you will see it for yourself. In the end the decision is up to you.”

Xanam and a second marid -Shnan- clearly looked bored, as if they were so fed up with this repeated scenario and were just waiting their part of the show. Mussa went on to pull a red, velvet cloth out of his pocket that held an incense paste with a strong scent.

“This, Doctor,” he said, “is a paste over which we have read versus of the Quran. I will now ask the righteous servant Mekayel to appear in front of you so you will believe me.”

Mussa put some of the paste in an ashtray and lit it, and thick, white smoke came out of it. Abu Attiyah whispered into Dr. Abdulraheem’s ear: “Righteous servants always produce white smoke. You will now hear him yourself. Don’t get nervous.”

The smoke was getting thicker, and Mussa’s uttering got faster. His eyes were closed and he waved his hands above the smoke.

Shnan sat in front of the ashtray and said in a theatrical voice, “Peace be upon you, owner of the house.”

Dr. Abdulraheem trembled. He did not really comprehend what was going on, so he responded, “Peace be upon you.”

“It saddens us that you do not want the help of your righteous Jinn brothers,” Shnan went on. “Your house is haunted by a family of protector Marids who watch over a treasure of a Jinn King. By God’s will we can convince them to hand over your treasure, or at least to move it away and go from—”

A lightning-fast shadow flew toward Shnan, throwing him away and shutting him up. It was Grandfather! That ill old man who could barely move or talk was now squeezing this Marid with his two hands as if he were a hundred years young! Mother followed, and Xanam hesitantly attacked her. I intercepted him without thinking, and he slammed into me. I held him by the throat, almost snapping it in my hand before I threw him across the room. I do not know where I got that strength!

I turned to Grandfather and saw Shnan frantically fighting to get out of his grip. Shnan noticed me, and I could see the terror in his eyes. I also saw Grandfather’s injuries from the battle, I wash shocked and angry, I rushed towards him as I was screaming! A scream that would only stop when I hold that damned’s heart in my hands! I can’t remember what happened at that moment, all I could remember was that the white smoke dissipated and the houses electricity flickered; and Xanam picked up what was left of Shnan and fled for his life. Although they did not see the details of our fierce battle, tension between Dr. Abdulraheem and his guests was building. The sudden silence of the alleged righteous servant and the dissipation of the smoke caused clear confusion on Mussa’s face.

He went on, “Did you hear that, Doctor? The treasure’s protectors clearly did not like the presence of our righteous servant. But do not concern yourself. God is on our side!”

Abu Attiyah noticed that even the sorcerer looked confused, and decided to end the visit. “As you have seen for yourself, Abdulraheem, if we do not act quickly, they might harm you and your family. Let me take Shaikh Mussa back to his place, and I will talk to you later.”

Dr. Abdulraheem saw them to their car looking puzzled and worried. He came back into the house saying some prayers, and went to read the Quran. Mother and I carried Grandfather, who had exhausted what remained of his strength, back to his bed. As we lay him down, he smiled contentedly, as if he had completed his mission with excellence—his mission that had taken only four hundred and twenty years to complete!

(9)

Death

God bless your soul, Grandfather. I buried him in Baqee Alghraqad, next to the rest of the Nafar and the companions of Prophet Mohammad, peace be upon him. Grandfather’s final request was for Mother to stay in Yatmah, near Madina, in the protection of what remained of the Nafar, who, despite their disagreement with Grandfather over mother’s marrying a Marid, still welcomed her and respected Grandfather’s wishes. I stayed with her for a month there although the Nafar did not appreciate my living among them; they made me feel like a meddlesome Marid. Prophet Mohammad, peace be upon him, said the only differentiator is one’s righteousness, but unfortunately the Nafar gave more value to lineage than to righteousness. I think differentiation based on righteousness has disappeared for us Jinn as well as for you Humans. It is now based on lineage and interests!

Had it not been for Mother, I would not have stayed a single day in Yatmah. I decided to spare the Nafar the discomfort of kicking me out, and I left after I was confident that Mother was okay. I went back to carry out Grandfather’s wish of protecting Dr. Abdulraheem and his family. To protect Sawsan! I had been away from her for one full month. I hadn’t even told her goodbye. I wondered if she missed me as much as I missed her. But how could I let her know I had come back? I would wait until she opened her tablet, and try to move her fingers with mine. I wanted to see her so badly, I went directly to her window. However, she wasn’t there. No one was at the house other than the maid, and everything seemed bleak, as if the place had been abandoned for days. I wondered what had happened in my absence.

My worry grew as I searched for anything that would hint at where they were. The house phone rang, and the maid, who was watching TV in her room, did not hear it. The caller might have been a family member. The maid had to answer! I tried to push her TV over, my hand would slam into it but it wouldn’t budge. I tried to unplug it without success. The phone stopped ringing, then started again, and in my anxious effort to unplug the TV, it suddenly fell to the ground. Both the maid and I were frightened. The phone’s ringing pulled her out of her daze, and she moved to answer it.

Hurry up, for God’s sake! I thought. She picked it up, and her words tore my heart.

“Yes… Mister, Madam everyone went to hospital for Sawsan… Very ill… Room 307, specialty hospital.”

I didn’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation. I had all the information I needed to be next to Sawsan in just a few short moments.

***

Hattan tried to take the burden of talking with the doctors and visitors off of his father’s shoulders. Dr. Abdulraheem was quite frozen, with tears in his eyes and his arms around Mrs. Raja. She cried too as she recited versus of the Quran. This sight was enough to make me collapse, but I got a hold of myself and went to Sawsan. She lay alone in a room, behind a glass window through which visitors could look at her. I went right through. Her body showed no signs of life other than her chest’s slow movement. Tubes went into her veins and her lungs; her life would end if these machines stopped. Her breathing, pulse, and eyes, which were open but without life, all showed that Sawsan was in a deep coma—one from which she might never get out of, only to go to her grave.

It seemed the tumor had caused pressure on a vital area of her brain, causing the coma. The cross-section images of her brain and the chatter of her doctors and consultants all pointed to the fact that Sawsan, if she were lucky, would live this way forever, or might regain consciousness but with major damage to her brain that could hinder her capabilities for the rest of her life.

“You have my condolences for your grandfather, cousin!” Xanam said behind me. Fortunately for him, my sadness curbed my anger. I didn’t even turn to face him; I just kept watching Sawsan. Although, I was sure, he had something to do with her current situation, he continued to pretend to be sympathetic.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral. But if you need anything, I’m at your command. As for your sweetheart…”

I turned to him now, and was about to cure my sad heart and anger by breaking his neck.

But he quickly responded, “Any rash actions from you and she’s gone. You will have finished off both your grandfather and your love! Stay calm and listen to what I have to say so we can both benefit.”

This meant Sawsan was somehow under his control, and he might have harmed her or even killed her. I could hardly control myself, and could not hold back my tears of sorrow.

“Damn you,” I said. “What have you done to Sawsan?!”

“First of all I’ve come to you with full respect and good intentions, but if you misbehave you will force me to—”

Sawsan’s vital signs fluctuated, and two nurses rushed over to check her. A doctor entered the room and monitored her. He looked anxious. Xanam was serious and meant what he said; unfortunately I had no choice but to listen to his demands.

He went on with his profanity as Sawsan’s vitals return to normal. “While you were busy with funeral arrangements, I took care of Dr. Abdulraheem’s family. What are cousins for? But unfortunately Dr. Abdulraheem got a bit greedy and was pulled into some nonsense about a treasure and servants. He also asked the Marids for help, and as you know we cannot refuse anyone who asks for our help. But as you also know, everything has a price! And the doctor did not have enough. So he was forced to take out a loan and put down the house as collateral. Damn greed! In the end he wasted his life’s savings running after delusions. I truly tried everything I could to get them to forgive the remaining balance. I even pitched in my efforts for free and lived in the doctor’s house so they would not send another evil Marid who might hurt him and his family. I even had to impersonate you to talk with Sawsan and entertain her while you were gone. I mean, I couldn’t stand how worried she was about you. She would cry every night on her tablet, calling out your name, so I thought I should answer.”

Each word coming out of Xanam’s mouth cut me with sadness and anger. For a moment I thought about attacking him to avenge Grandfather and Sawsan, but I also wanted to hold on to any chance of saving her life.

Xanam went on. “I tried to play with her, but her soul ignored my existence at the start. But it had to give in to my charm at the end. By the way Sawsan is very boring. I tried to entertain myself with her a bit, but she acted like a sensitive prude. So I was forced to take shape in front of her—to show her what her beloved Hawjan looks like. If she ever asks you if your eyes are vertical and come down below your nose, and if your head is shaped like a pear, please say yes, otherwise she will think you are a liar. Anyway, I showed her a form that was way more handsome than you, and she could not contain herself, so she collapsed and went into a coma.”

I knew he was enjoying pinching my nerves, so I decided to put an end to his disgusting theatrics. “What do you want from me, Xanam?”

“I want what’s best for both of us! By the way, I saved your life—otherwise the Marids would have torn you to shreds in revenge for Shnan’s death.”

“Shnan died?”

“Yes, Shnan died. Not from his battle with your pathetic grandfather, but from your scream. I fixed up the scenario to benefit the two of us, but you must help me out.”

And he started to explain his devilish plan—the one he had used to trick the most powerful Marids and Devils.

“I told them you’ve been working with me from the start, and you swore to defy the Nafar after you found out they had cast out your father and denounced your mother. I said you had decided to set a trap for your grandfather with my help, to win over Sawsan, your love. But we were surprised that Elyaseen still had some oomph in him and was able to kill Shnan before we killed Elyaseen, and you lied to your mother and the Nafar, and convinced them that you were trying to defend him.”

“God damn you, Xanam!”

“You’re welcome, dear cousin. And by the way, a good Samaritan warned them that you participated in the killing of the old Nafar in exchange for your Human love. So if you ever get anywhere near them; they will kill you. What do you think of my plan so far? It’s up to you. You can kill me right now and lose everything, or serve me with a small favor and live the happiest life with Sawsan, or even return to your family as a king.” Xanam said.

“What do I need to do? What use do you have of me?”

“Come with me and greet King Hayaf, and tell him you helped me to kill the old Nafar. Marry my sister, Jumara, and have a child, and the moment you hand me the child you will be free to go. At that point it will be up to you if you want to stay with Jumara or not, or even kill her and come back to your Human.”

King Hayaf was the ruler of the kingdoms of the Marids south of the Red Sea, in Arabia and Eastern Africa—the king my father was supposed to precede. I never knew my blood line was so important to him and the Marids. I knew my father had inherited his father’s powers, and it seemed I had inherited them as well. Apparently the Marids wanted me to have a child with one of my closest relatives to ensure my powers were passed on, and then keep the child to become the next king of the Devils and Marids. Oh, Allah, I prayed, what should I do?

Xanam cut of my trail of thought. “Your wedding is tomorrow at sunset, in the presence of King Hayaf. If you don’t like that, I can make it on the day of Sawsan’s funeral. Your choice!”

As soon as he finished that sentence, he vanished. I felt numb. I sat in front of Sawsan, watching her as if I had forgotten that I had only a few short hours to save her life. I put my hands on her stiff fingers, her withered cheeks, her frozen eyes. I noticed Khulud behind the window. She could not bear seeing Sawsan like that, and she left. I followed, though I didn’t know why. Maybe because Khulud was my only hope to talk to someone in your world, and this was an advantage I had to use when dealing with a shifty character like Xanam.

What had happened to Sawsan caused terror in Khulud’s heart. She feels it had something to do with the Ouija game. Khulud’s feelings were all over the place, from sadness for Sawsan to guilt for teaching her the Ouija game and fear that the Jinn who had hurt Sawsan would harm her as well. How could I get through to her with all of that in the way? There was no way Khulud would play the Ouija that night, I followed her home.

I listened to her cry as she talked on the phone with Areej. “Sawsan is gone. She’s gone.”

“May Allah have mercy on her. I swear to God, I can’t visit her because I’m afraid! I always felt what we were doing would not end in a good way.”

“I burned my Ouija. I’ll never talk about them again.”

Areej ended the call, and Khulud started calling someone else. I raced to her hand and held the phone with her. I tried to use her fingers like I had with Sawsan’s, but her fingers did not respond to my movements,

I yelled at her, “I need to talk to you! Move you fingers please!”

I tried again, and her fingers moved randomly. She was shocked to see her fingers shake like that. I tried typing something to grab her attention and was able to move her fingers this time to type S A W. Sawsan’s name appeared along with her number. Khulud let out a scream and threw her phone away as if it were a snake about to strike her. Khulud was gone and with her my hopes to communicate with your world.

There was still one person who might be able to help me, I would only be able to communicate with him if I could touch Khulud’s phone that was right in front of me to find his number.

A person named… Eyad!

(10)

An Angel Amongst Efreets!

Spending the final hours of that day in the holy mosque of Makkah. I prayed Assor, our afternoon prayer, and asked Allah for forgiveness for what I had done and what I was about to do.

“Please, Allah. Forgive me if I have done anything that you do not like, Allah, only you know my situation and Sawsan’s. Please help us.”

Then I went to Qummah, an island in the southern part of the Red Sea, where King Hayaf’s palace was.

Honestly the negative image I’d had for all of my life of the kingdom of Marids had changed. Sometimes we only see the negative aspects of our enemies or those who oppose us, to a point where we are convinced they are pure evil while we are pure good. We deny our own shortcomings and magnify theirs as if that is all they have. However, everyone has positives and negatives. Even in a wicked society there are seeds of good, and in every honorable society there are aspects of evil.

I felt sad as soon as I set foot in Qummah. I had visited there once with my father when I was but a twenty-year-old child; despite his disagreements with his brothers, he insisted on teaching me of my heritage. Qummah had been the thriving heart of our kingdoms, but now it had deteriorated. It had become a wasteland. That was the cost of Human expansion. As you spread we retreat.

I strolled amongst the damaged homes. It’s rare to find someone awake before sunset there, and I saw only a few late workers who did not care about the complexity of life and had no time to review their principles and revisit their beliefs. Only work hard to survive for one more day. For them conceptualizing on the topics of thought and belief was a luxury only a few could attain. Their miserable looks went through me as if they did not see me. Only two giants noticed me; they moved toward me and asked in strict routine for my name and what I was doing in Qummah. When I told them I was Hawjan Al-Fayhee, their tone changed to reverence and respect—coated with fear. Probably because the Al-Fayhees were considered the ruling family.

They guided me to Malaj city, and insisted on personally escorting me to Xanam’s house. Xanam welcomed me with suspicious kindness; he acted like a totally different person, as if he had forgotten our disputes and battles. At first his excessive generosity was annoying, but I appreciated it in the end. I think he had not expected me to yield to his demands, and my visit to his house proved to everyone that he was able to heal the scar my father caused when he’d challenged them. But no matter how deep of a dispute I had with them, they were still my family.

In a few short hours, Xanam prepared a huge feast in my honor. He invited most of Al-Fayhee family and the city’s top dignitaries. I have never felt such a warm welcome. I thought I would meet a bunch of Marid Devils, but everyone surprised me with their kindness. I think Xanam had warned them not to bring up any religious or family dispute topics; they didn’t even comment on my dialect, which clearly showed the influence Hijazi Humans had on me

Hijaz is the name Muslims call the western region of the Arabian peninsula, although I tried very hard to speak in my father’s dialect.

As everyone left, they insisted I should keep in touch, and told me that blood was above all disagreements.

Once Xanam and I were alone, he couldn’t avoid my confused gaze any longer. He poured me a drink and took a sip of it to prove to me that it was not enchanted. I know what you’re thinking: how can a Jinni get enchanted? Sorcery is a deep, complicated world that can affect Humans and Jinn alike.  I drank from my cup to prove to Xanam that I trusted him, or more realistically that I did not care anymore, as I had nothing left to lose.

He smiled as he said, “I never thought you would come. We only have our family, cousin. Damn these interests that divide us.”

I responded with a fake, shallow smile, and he went on: “Trust me, Hawjan, everything I’m doing is out of my control. There’s no mercy here. Either you do what you’re told, or you’re killed. What I’ve been asked to do is not easy at all. The uncles and cousins you met here today are all terrified of being slaughtered one after the other. They all have high hopes that because of you they might get some kind of immunity—not only the Al-Fayhees, but everyone has faith in you. Ever since Uncle Meehal left us and our affairs deteriorated, King Hayaf has had no mercy. Not even for his children or grand children.”

Tears came out of his eyes. I was shocked someone like him could cry.

“I buried my wife and daughter with my own hands,” he continued. “They were killed only because I objected to being a Marid. Believe me, Hawjan, your situation is far easier than mine. At worst you’ll lose a Human. A mere Human! Even if she does live, it would be a matter of forty or fifty years before she gets old and die in front of you anyway, and you could do nothing for her. Those years would pass in a blink of an eye. I, on the other hand, have my life to lose. If I convince you to come back here and live with us and take back your grandfather’s throne, I would be your right hand—but I’m sure you will never accept this option, which is why I’ve promised them your offspring.”

I agreed with Xanam—his situation was far more complicated than mine was. I’d thought my life was harsh and complex, but it didn’t even come close to the circumstances my family faced here. However, I would never give up my principles, and I would not sacrifice Sawsan’s life no matter what the cost. I would not be the reason for her suffering.

Xanam had more to explain to me. “Your problem, Hawjan, is that you impulsively follow your heart and ideals, while I follow my mind and interests. Our interests! And by the way, I truly do wish you specifically would marry Jumara. You know she’s the only person I have left.”

He noticed my smile. I was recalling what he’d said yesterday about killing her if I wanted.

“I know,” he said, apparently thinking it too, “and I’m sure you will never harm her. On the contrary, I believe Jumara will be safer with you than she is with me.”

He looked down to the floor for a second, then called to her. “Jumara? Jumara! Come say hi to your cousin.”

At that moment, I remembered what Sawsan had once told me. Although she was very skillful in controlling her emotions, a female is a female. She could not hide her jealousy and curiosity, and asked me about the beauty of Jinn girls and how they compared to Humans. Being the fool I am, I described the many levels of Jinn beauty, which go way beyond body shapes, skin color, eyes, and hair. Now I was sure Sawsan’s jealousy would explode if she saw Jumara! Last time I had seen my cousin, she was but a child that was in no way related to the nymph that now stood before me. Today I saw an Angel living amongst Efreets! How I wish you could know the beauty of our world, and could comprehend our forms and dimensions so I could accurately describe her to you.

Jumara stayed in the corner of the room as she greeted me. “How are you, Hawjan?”

I did not respond. I was busy gazing at her. Xanam did not help; instead he left the room without a word, making us both feel even more uncomfortable.

I tried to ease the tension. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Jumara. You grew and changed a lot.”

“Everything changes. Nothing stays the same.” She said it with clear sadness that summarized the tragedies she had gone through. “You have no idea how much I miss Uncle Meehal. I still remember how he used to carry me and play with me when I was little, and how he would always tell me—”

She cut off her sentence, as it did not suit the sensitivity of the situation. I knew my father had always wished we would get married; before things deteriorated between him and my uncles, he would always call her “Little Meehal’s Mother.”

“Listen Hawjan,” Jumara continued, getting right to the heart of the matter. “I’m sure I can never find someone as wonderful as you, but…” She looked the other way, her angelic eyes trying to hold back her tears. “But I can never get married like this. I can’t accept it for either of us.”

“Xanam told you about the details?”

“Xanam never hides anything from me. We got into a fight because of this. I only played along to save the poor Human.”

“I’ll try to talk to him and convince him to let her go, and—”

“Xanam cannot let her go! He’s as powerless as we are. The matter is in the hands of King Hayaf. The Human is possessed by one of the underworld beings—it’s wrapped around her head! King Hayaf sent him to pressure her father into coming back to the wizard and giving a sacrifice. If he did that, the being would release Sawsan from the spell of the protectors of the treasure. That’s what they told him. Now her father is trying to come up with money for the sacrifice to save his daughter’s life, but he brought this upon himself! He’s the one who opened his house to these Marids. I’ve never seen the likes of Human stupidity and greed.”

She stopped, looking a little uncomfortable. Perhaps she realized her talk of Humans might hurt my feelings.

“So why did Xanam claim he can save her life?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but he can’t do it. In his despair he promised the king he would bring you back, and asked him to send him to the Human’s house to convince you there is nothing you would gain from the Humans or the Nafar. Your being here today proves his plan has worked. But in any case he still needs to convince King Hayaf to release the underling so Sawsan will awaken.”

“I’ve never seen anyone as shrewd as your brother.”

“He wants to live. So do I. But I cannot accept living as a burden to someone else. I’m only saddened for the poor Human, and wish I could help her. I have nothing to gain. I just want to help”

How amazing Jumara was, but her beauty, kindness, and family ties were one thing, and my love for Sawsan was totally something else. In that moment I truly wished I had not loved her, or even ever met her.

“Jumara,” I said, “I have no one left in this world other than Mother, you, and this family. And I will do everything I can to free you from this. Let’s just get out of this mess and we can discuss everything else after that.”

At that moment Xanam came in, the marriage documents in his hand. He couldn’t contain how nervous he was. “Hawjan, here’s an Islamic marriage contract. I have two Muslims ready to witness you signing it. As I told you, it’s up to you. Trust me, I would never harm anyone if I didn’t have to.”

I took the contract. It had Jumara’s signature on it. I looked at her, but she was too shy and nervous to look me in the eye. She and her brother left, and I sat down alone, looking at that contract. My marriage contract with Jumara.

(11)

The King’s Hall

King Hayaf was the representation of undisputable control, just like one of your Human dictators. The only difference was that the King of the Marids drew his authority from The Damned directly and was the top authority in the Kingdom of the Devils, while your governments practice its injustice by relaying on the ignorance, poverty and fear of its own people and above all that they draw their so-called legitimacy—and the choice of which people they crush day and night—from God. Or so they say.

Despite all of King Hayaf’s authority, he was still a servant to his Master. He could not use his power for his own gain; the interest of The Damned is above everything else. It is not as you imagine it—Humans and Jinn, Angels and Devils, good and bad. It is only a matter of interests. None of these beings have feelings for you. They only do what sustains their own lives, and to hell with the entire Human race.

But the rules of the game demand that they do not cross some lines with Humans unless requested to do so by Humans themselves. The evils of humanity, its negligence and wickedness, are the keys that open doors for Marids to come into your world. Imagine then what happens when a Human asks for their help and gives tribute to their kings! This was where Dr. Abdulraheem found himself; the deception had worked on him, and he was ready for the last level of giving in to the Marids. The sacrifice became his last hope to save his daughter’s life and to save his family from financial crisis.

I know you condemn what he’s doing, but please tell me: if the life of your loved one were threatened, and the only hope to save her was to slaughter a black goat in the opposite direction of Makkah, would you hesitate? Do not judge Dr. Abdulraheem unless you have walked a mile in his shoes.

We went to meet King Hayaf—Xanam, me, and my wife, Jumara, who held on to my arm as if it were a refuge for her fears. Usually it’s impossible to set an appointment with King Hayaf, and even if he agrees it takes weeks or even months. But the situation here was different, as King Hayaf was keen on meeting me specifically. It all might have been a ploy to kill me, to forever get rid of me before I sought revenge for my father. Anything was possible. But I had not a single ounce of fear—contrary to Xanam, who shivered all the way and kept telling me to take care, and what I should and should not say or do in order not to put Sawsan’s life—or any of our lives—at risk.

I had never seen a kingdom more civilized and prosperous than Malaj, and I do not mean that in the traditional sense. Yes, there were elaborate palaces and huge buildings, but we do not need the technologies by which you measure your civilizations with.

All of the technology you have, has been invented to cope with your limited capabilities; our civilization depends more on the architectural, production, and civil aspects.

The path to the palace was crawling with guards.We didn't have to walk far enough for someone to question our identity and verify that the king was actually waiting for us. The palace itself was a small city swarming with Devils and Marids; it wasn’t just a palace but a center for managing everything related to the Marids and their projects.

The palace was housed inside the main gate, in the middle of a huge field. The main building rose hundreds of floors above ground and tens of floors below it, with several other buildings scattered around it along with enormous statues of kings from all the other Marid kingdoms. Underneath each statue was writing in a language I did not understand. I remember seeing some of the same statues when I visited Qummah with my father, some of these Kings had lived thousands of years ago. I clearly remember the statue of a huge Marid carrying an ark on his back and on the ark sat two winged angels, the statue was covered with many engraved symbols that I did not understand. He was Hanaeel, one of King Solomon’s (peace be upon him) Efreets and he knew lots of his kingdom’s secrets.

I was surprised by all of this; it was as if I had entered the Jinn world for the first time. I felt like I belonged more to your Human world than to mine. I had never expected to find such diversity in one place, with Marids and Efreets from all over the planet, of all races and ethnicities and even all religions. Yes, I have met Jewish, Christian and Muslim Jinn working side by side with those who worshiped The Damned, what brought them where amongst Devels and Marids you ask? Interests. Just like me, religious titles do not command us. Some of you call yourselves Muslims yet perform deeds that even the mightiest of devils would never dare to do.

At the entrance of the main building, more guards stopped us. They looked at me as if they knew me. One asked, “Hawjan, son of Meehal Al-Fayhee?” I nodded, and he pulled me aside. Jumara held on to my arm, but another guard yanked her arm violently, causing her to scream in pain. I automatically attacked him and squeezed his neck. When his eyes popped out, Xanam moved to stop me, and a group of the guards attacked me to get me off of their friend. The situation got really messy. I let go of the guard’s neck and looked him straight in the eye. “If you touch her again, I swear to God I will kill you!” He responded in a clearly choked voice, “We’ll see who’ll kill who after your meeting is over.” The head guard signaled him to shut up as he pushed me in front of him.

“Only Hawjan is allowed to enter.”

“Take care of yourself, Hawjan. May Allah protect you!” yelled Jumara.

I’d never heard that statement from anyone other than Mother. I wondered if Jumara had become a Muslim. I asked her without opening my mouth, only with a quick glance, and she answered with a tear as I walked away. The guards blocked her entrance, but her eyes told me she had turned herself to me.

Now that they knew how dangerous I was, the guards gathered around me as we walked. My heart raced in fear not for myself but for Sawsan and Jumara. Its beating became more violent as I got closer to King Hayaf’s hall—the king of the Marids and Devils!

(12)

Father, I Will Avenge You…Or Join You!

You Humans hold on to life with much ferocity although you only live for a few short years. Those of you who die in your nineties are considered immortals, but in our world they would be children who had not yet enjoyed life. You spend your limited years grinding conflicts and disputes and panting after your greedy desires that you gain—if lucky—when you are very close to death.

Humans Humans by nature are greedy and stingy, desperate and panicked, alarmed and in despair although you know your time is set and you will never die of hunger! If I were Human and knew I would live for only sixty or seventy years, I would spend that time with my loved ones, to satiate myself with their company before I left them and regretted it, as you do.

That is how I felt as I went closer to the place where I might have faced my death. This might have been the last day of my life. Ninety-four years had passed in front of my eyes in an instant, though the last few months had moved very slowly. Two specific images were frozen in my mind: Sawsan lying in the hospital hanging between life and death, and Jumara waiting for me amongst Marids. Both had no hope of surviving other than me. If there were anything to make me hold on to life, it was saving theirs.

King Hayaf’s hall was the lowest floor of the palace, a huge square with circular steps where dignitary Marids sat. In the center was a round table with an opening on the side of the entrance gate. The ministers and elders of the kingdom sat around it; in the exact center was a tall chair with a symbol carved in its top—a symbol I knew very well. I had seen it a lot in our world and in yours. It was the symbol of The Empire of The Damned.

The guards led me to the center of the circular table. The sounds in the hall faded, and all eyes were on me. The elders looked at me with their cold eyes, their faces blank like poker players. I thought they were immortal Marids; I wouldn’t have been surprised if amongst them was one who was more than a thousand years old.

King Hayaf entered with a fast pace indicating his seriousness, activity, and preoccupation. The guards stood straight, and everyone else stood up too save for the elders, whose cold looks kept me frozen in my place. King Hayaf sat down and gestured to everyone to sit, then leaned on the table in clear boredom. He gazed at me without speaking. Nervous whispers rang through the hall, then it all suddenly went silent:

“Hawjan… Son of Meehal,” the king said in a loud voice. The elders gazed at me. “Al-Fayhee! What brought you here?”

I recalled what Xanam had told me, then collected my courage and answered: “I came to let you know I got married to my cousin Jumara, daughter of my uncle Santool. And that I will hand you my first child!”

The king still leaned his head on his fist and toyed with something in his hand. He didn’t even look at me as he said, “So? What do you want?”

“Release Sawsan the Human, and give her father his money back.”

He sat up straight and clapped slowly. “Honestly? What about if we throw a wedding for you and the Human as well? And employ some Marids to serve you?”

He suddenly let out a loud giggle, and so did some of the audience in fear of his tyranny.

“No,” I replied. “Only release Sawsan, and send your Marids away from her home.”

My clear, decisive answer cut his amusement short. He slammed his fist on the table and yelled , “I cannot believe that the blood line of the valley of Fayh has any remaining trace after the death of your father!”

“My father was killed.” I said it clearly, challengingly. A hint that my father’s revenge was another issue I would not let pass in peace. I would have time for that once I ensured the safety of Jumara and Sawsan. But I did not expect my reaction to befuddle King Hayaf as it did:

“How did you kill Shnan?”

How did he know? I’d thought Xanam had convinced the king that Grandfather had killed him! And that I had worked with Xanam to kill my grandfather!

King Hayaf went on as if he had read my thoughts. “Do you think that your stupid cousin fooled us? That we believed an old Nafar had killed a Marid? Had I not wanted to meet you, I would have killed Xanam a long time ago! Show us how you made that scream. Prove to me that I have use for you so I will not kill you and that Human of yours.”

“I don’t know how I did it.”

He threw that thing he was toying with in his hand, and it fell next to me.

It was one of your cell phones—an old one, one of the very first you have ever manufactured.

How had it been brought into the Jinn world?

I picked it up and was amazed when I easily held it in my hand. For the first time in my life I held something from your world.

“I heard you play with the Humans on their devices,” King Hayaf said. “Do you know how use this?”

I threw it away and shook my head.

He screamed in anger. “Then what use are you? Listen to me, Hawjan. You know Marids cannot enter the homes of Humans without magic or contracts. You live among them and can enter any house. You have the powers of Efreets and above that are a Muslim, so the Quran does not affect you! Do you know what you could gain if you cooperate with us? I don’t care what religion you follow or who you worship. All I need is a five-year contract. I’m willing to bring the Marids that heal the wealthiest Humans in from Morocco and heal the girl of her cancer. And if you want, I can make you form in her world as the most handsome Human, so you can marry her and even live with her.”

It was a tempting offer, but I would have to become an infidel if I accepted it. Plenty of Jinn and Humans had turned for the temptations of Marids. They were convinced they would repent the moment they gained their profits from the Devils, but they became slaves, and I would never give up my beliefs. Not even for Sawsan.

“Should I give you some time to think about it?” the king asked.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’ve made up my mind.”

“So you accept? Should we write up the contract?”

“No. I reject your offer!”

“Now I know for sure that you’re the son of Meehal! You have a hard head like he did.”

“Raaaaaaan!” Hayaf yelled out as he turned his head, and a giant Marid came out from behind him. He was hideous—his face was deformed, and his smile made it even worse. He carried something that resembled a sword or an axe. It was so heavy he dragged it, making a disturbing sound as it scratched the floor. He came close and looked at me. One of his eyes had lost its shine.

The king encouraged him: “Do you wish to become one of my ministers, Raaan? This is Hawjan, son of Meehal Al-Fayhee, who deformed your face! Bring me his head and the job is yours! Oh, forgive me, Hawjan,” he said, turning back to me. “I forgot to introduce you to Raaan, my most powerful Marid. The only survivor from the squadron that was sent to execute the traitor Meehal!”

So this was the monster that had killed my father! He came toward me, slamming the floor with his weapon as he said, “I’m sure you miss your father. Don’t worry! In a few moments you’ll meet him again!”

He suddenly moved with great speed, holding his weapon above his head. There was no place to run. The weapon was going to strike me, no doubt. I moved with all my strength toward him, pushing him off of balance as he punched me with his fist, sending me into the round table. Part of it broke, along with a part of my body.

The fight caused confusion among the audience, who ran out of the hall as it turned into a vicious battlefield. King Hayaf did not give them any thought as he watched us with clear delight. Raaan came close to me, and my pain held me in place. I saw his weapon rise and fall toward my eyes. I closed them. That thing could split my head in half in a fraction of a second, and in that time I saw Sawsan’s face. I saw her smile at me. Was she calling out to me? Was she saying goodbye? Her image vanished, and I called out to her as loudly as I could. I shouted her name.

In that moment, I should have been among the dead. But with my shout, everything around me changed. It was an unexplainable feeling! It was as if I had moved into another world. Actually…I did move to another world! I was in total darkness and under cold water; I couldn’t breathe. I battled the water with all my power, and my heart felt as if it would explode as I fought to push my body out and take a breath. I didn’t comprehend at that moment that I had materialized in your world, and as Malaj was a spot in the Red Sea, and the king’s hall was built in its depths, but water in your dimension feels like thick air on ours, I had survived Raaan’s sword only to drown!

My heart beat grew weaker, but before it stopped I moved back to my world. I found myself in the middle of the hall, only a short distance from Raaan. He was behind me, looking with astonishment at the spot from which I disappeared and his sword that had split the floor. He turned to me and jumped on me angrily, wrapped his arm around my throat.

I heard King Hayaf say as he watched Raaan pass his weapon’s blade over my neck, “Give my regards to your father, would you?”

I felt the cold blade on my throat, and pain and blood exploded as I struggled to release myself from his grip. I gathered what was left of my courage and hope, took a deep breath, and screamed. I felt the cold water again flowing inside my mouth while Raaan’s hand was still around my throat. We were in the sea together. I easily got away from him, as he could not comprehend what had happened, and he was suffocating and drowning. I went around and squeezed his neck with all my strength. He moved around, clearly panicked and filled with horror. I was not afraid this time. I knew I would get back to my world when the moment was right. And I did.

The water disappeared, and we both fell into the hall as water currents in the material world had lifted us a few feet. I ignored my pain and moved toward Raaan’s weapon, which laid on the spot where he had almost slit my throat. I picked it up, though I have no idea how I was able to do so. Raaan was coughing and crawling. I know you expect me to show some noble gesture and forgive him, but I do not know forgiveness and nobility when it comes to the blood of those I love. I had never intended to kill any one before, but I raised that thing, remembered my father for a moment, and let it fall on Raaan’s body. He let out a gasp, but showed no real resistance. His head and part of his shoulder and arm just fell off with ease. I took his head and threw it in King Hayaf’s lap.

“My father said hi, and sent you this gift!”

(13)

A Human and a Jinni for you Sawsan!

Coming out of Malaj, I was a totally different person. I came out with my marriage contract to Jumara and a contract with King Hayaf, who had agreed to my terms after he knew for sure that I had my father’s powers. He agreed to let Sawsan go too if I gave him my offspring, my son. The contract ended in exactly one hundred and fifty days (the time we need to give birth), and if he did not get the child then, his Marids would kill everyone with no mercy—Jumara, Sawsan and her family, and me.

I looked at Jumara, who seemed joyful but concerned as she followed me. She didn’t even ask where we were going, where we would live, or how I would support her. She didn’t care that she had married me only to give up her own child as an offering to save a Human she had no relationship with other than the fact that her husband was madly in love with her. Would any Human girl offer such a sacrifice?

When we arrived at Yatmah, I did not know how I would face my mother and tell her what had transpired. I didn’t know how the shock would affect her—and not just one shock but several. I went directly to the chief of Yatmah, Grandfather’s brother, may Allah bless his soul. Jumara’s look and dress made her stand out as a stranger and suspicious looks followed us.

We knocked at the door; a servant opened it and raced to call my mother immediately. Mother must have been worried for me. Poor Mother. How she had suffered because of me. She came running to welcome me and slowed down when she saw Jumara; I did not wait for her to make it to the door before I threw myself in her arms. She received me coldly.

Jumara went down and kissed Mother’s hands and feet. “How have you been, Mother?”

Mother held her arms and lifted her. “Welcome, my child. Come on in. Come on in.”

No one can ever do justice when describing how great mothers are. The fact that I had brought Jumara to Yatmah could only have meant that a disaster had happened and that others would follow, but my amazing mother was able to overlook that and welcome her with kindness. A mother knows how to weave her emotions for the good of her kids, being hard on them to push them away from what would harm them, and being the refuge they need if harm ever does come their way. While Jumara treated Mother with the utmost respect, Mother treated her as if she were a queen or more. They lavished each other with the emotions they had both been denied—Jumara had never seen her mother, and my mother had never had a daughter.

Mother did not ask me what had happened; she respected my fear of confrontation, so she accepted the current situation. All we cared about now was that we were okay, and our silence was enough for that.

The chief of Yatmah changed his tone now when he talked to me. He seemed more welcoming to me and my wife:

“Hawjan, my son,” he said. “I have prepared a house for you to live in with your wife and mother. Consider us your family.”

“Sir, I do not know how to repay your kindness, but I have to go back to the Humans and follow my grandfather’s will. I have to go tonight.”

“Promise me you will come back and live with us when you are done.”

“I promise to visit whenever I get a chance.”

Mother was very sad as Jumara and I prepared to leave. She insisted on coming with us, but I strongly refused I couldn’t put her in danger.

After all her pleas had failed, she told me, “Hawjan, promise you’ll come back to me safely.”

Her words crushed my heart, and I held my tongue, but Jumara answer her. “Don’t worry for Hawjan, Mother.”

Mother shifted her pleas to Jumara. “Take care of Hawjan and yourself, my daughter.”

Jumara hugged her and cried. “I will protect Hawjan with my soul, Mother.”

I joined their hug, then we went on our way. We had no place to live other than Dr. Abdulraheem’s house—Sawsan’s house. Once there I asked Jumara to rest in the room where I stayed in the house’s yard, but she insisted on seeing Sawsan’s room. Luckily the window was open. Thick dust and memories covered everything in the room, but all was as she’d left it. Jealousy ate Jumara up; Sawsan, the spoiled Human kid, had gotten everything she had not: a family, a home, parents, and my love. And Jumara was sacrificing everything for her.

She passed her hands over Sawsan’s stuff, her clothes and furniture. It was her first time in a Human house, She went to some pictures on Sawsan’s desk—one of her when she was a kid on her father’s shoulders, a picture of her on one of her birthdays, some pictures of her with her friends, and one of her with her parents at her high school graduation. Jumara tried hard to hold back her tears. I didn’t know if they were from sadness for Sawsan or her own jealousy.

“Is this Sawsan?”

Any words I could say would uncover how much I missed Sawsan and would stoke Jumara’s jealousy. So I just nodded.

“Is she really only twenty-three years old?”

My nodding did not quench Jumara’s fire. She looked me directly in the eye as she asked, “Tell me, Hawjan, do you love her?”

I looked the other way, avoiding her eyes, but she kept following me. “Answer me, Hawjan. Do you love Sawsan the Human?”

“Jumara, Sawsan is from one world and I am from another. I got her involved with these Marids, and I am only doing what Grandfather asked me to do before he died—to release her and her family from them. You, on the other hand, are my cousin and wife!”

“That’s it?”

I knew my answer had failed to mend her heart; in fact it had destroyed it completely. I tried to patch it up, but Jumara’s dignity refused it.

“I think I crossed the line,” she said. “You must go and make sure she is okay.”

She left the room and went to the yard to let her tears flow.

Time is of the essence, I must act quickly. The most important thing now was that I got to Dr. Abdulraheem before he sacrificed the goat. King Hayaf had promised to release Sawsan, but if the goat was sacrificed, the doctor and his family would be under the control of The Damned and his devils!

I raced to the hospital. Sawsan had left the ICU and been put in a regular room. She lay in bed; all the tubes were gone but the one in her arm.

“She’s stable now,” a doctor said trying to comfort her father. “She came out of her coma, and the awareness and senses tests are positive. We just have to keep her here for a couple more days to monitor her. After that she can go back home and start chemotherapy.”

“Is there hope, Doctor?” Abdulraheem with a mixture of hope and despair.

“There is always hope in Allah, and medicine is advancing every day.”

“Thank Allah, Thank Allah.”

The family stood at the door of Sawsan’s room, whispering to one another; Mrs. Raja, who had not slept in weeks, was sleeping in a chair. Dr. Abdulraheem got a call, so he cut the discussion with the doctor short and answered his phone in a low voice, as if he did not want anyone to know who he was talking to.

“Yes, yes, Abu Attiyah. I told you the amount is not ready! I can’t come up with the rest. I took three loans from the banks and one from my work, put down the house as collateral, sold the car, and borrowed from everyone I know.”

He listened. It was difficult to hear him beg like this. “But two million is too much! I almost have a million and a half. Can’t he take that, and I’ll promise to give him the rest later? I’m losing my daughter… Thank you, Abu Attiyah. I don’t know how to repay you.”

That scoundrel Abu Attiyah! I had to get to him and his sorcerer friend before it was too late. But how? I had to see his number. I reached out to the phone as the doctor removed it from his ear. I held it in my hand, and I felt it. Yes, I felt it! A solid object in my palm. I pulled it, and it moved out of Dr. Abdulraheem’s hand. He was frozen with terror. I looked at the screen, and the call was over; I pressed the “call” button and Abu Attiyah’s name came on. Then I lost my grip on the phone and it fell to the ground. I tried picking it up but could not. At least those few seconds when I’d held the phone had been enough for me to remember Abu Attiyah’s number!

All I had connecting me to your world were two phone numbers: Abu Attiyah’s and Eyad’s. Unfortunately my ability to affect your world was almost nonexistent, as if I were watching a movie and trying to change its events. So I had get to one of the actors to help me change the plot. I had to get to Eyad!

First I went back home. Jumara had not slept;. I sat next to her and held her in my arms. I owed her that, at least. I was all she had left, and she was all I had. As we embraced I felt as if my mountain of worries shied away for a moment.

After that Jumara slept like a child who had been playing all day. I entered the house and went to the phone in the living room. I gathered my strength, along with the abilities I inherited from my Fayhee ancestors that I started to discover and master! I moved my hand over the phone until it fell over. I was able to catch it before it hit the ground, and I put it back on the table as I nervously and quickly punched in Eyad’s number. I failed on my first attempt, but then I remembered that you Humans use numbers from left to right. I heard ringing, then Eyad’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Eyad? Are you Eyad? Can you hear me?”

I was talking, but he was not responding, I shook the phone in my hand and screamed, and it echoed in the room.

“Yes, this is Eyad,” he said, sounding scared. “Who are you? I said, who are you?”

I heard the sound of a car—the doctor and Hattan had returned. I begged Eyad, “Log on to Facebook for Sawsan!”

I let go of the phone, and it fell at the exact moment Hattan opened the door, causing both of them to panic.

“Who’s there? Who?” the doctor shouted as he turned on the lights.

I had no time to waste. I raced to Sawsan’s room, praying to Allah that her tablet still had enough battery for me to chat with Eyad. I reached for it, turned it on, and passed my fingers over the screen, looking for Facebook. I logged in with Sawsan’s username and found Eyad online, so I started a chat.

“Eyad…”

“This is not possible! Who are you? Hattan?” he typed back.

“No… I’m trying to save Sawsan’s life.”

“Who are you? Tell me!”

“It’s a long story, but before I tell you anything, you must answer me: does Sawsan’s life concern you?”

“Of course it does!”

“To what extent?”

“More than you can possibly imagine. But who are you?”

His words bothered me. They stabbed my ego. But then I thought, To hell with my ego! To hell with my entire life if it would save Sawsan!

“I am Hawjan.”

Eyad’s delay in answering exposed his fear—and the fact that he knew the rumors about Sawsan’s Jinni lover. But his courage was my only hope to save her, and I would not let him coward out, even if I had to threaten him.

I pulled him out of his silence. “Are you scared of me?”

“Me? No! How can I help Sawsan? I’m willing to do anything no matter what!”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what!”

“Even if I touch you?”

“Touch me?”

“Possess you! So I can interact with your world and help Sawsan.”

I was expecting him to refuse or to run away, or at least to stay silent. But he really surprised me, and at the same ignited my jealousy.

“Come on, Hawjan. I’m prepared to sacrifice my life for Sawsan.”

(14)

A Jinni’s Madness

Before I go on, you must understand what it means to possess someone. This is not a simple, shallow topic, and I apologize upfront for the complexity and mystery. I will try to simplify it as much as I can.

Your dimension is far simpler than ours. A Human is a combination of two blended sets: a primitive material set represented by the body, which has a group of biomechanical organs. These would not be so complicated if it were not for the brain, which has all the control centers that are linked to the other Human set— the one related to the higher dimension, or the sprit. Your materialistic sciences have advanced a lot while your spiritual sciences have devolved; even religious worship that is supposed to be highly spiritual has been distorted, making it a bunch of lifeless rituals and talismans without soul—just like the rest of your life.

Every sprit is connected to its body and controls it with the brain. That control is weakened or lost during sleep or when the body is in a coma. Then the spiritual awareness is severed from the control centers of the brain and flies to the higher dimension. When these centers are stimulated again, they call on the spirit to come back and control the body.

The spirit’s movements in the higher dimension are instantaneous, unrestricted by time or distance, but the brain’s centers’ response to the return of the spirit are slow sometimes. At others it might be totally damaged, to the extent that the spirit finds it difficult to reconnect with the body, which causes its death. That is the reason for a lot of mysterious deaths, while others escape certain death because their sprits clutch on to their bodies and control their minds.

Possession is simply a domination of the control centers in the Human brain in a slight absence of the spirit. You practice such domination amongst your selves through what you call hypnosis. Most of the possessed cases you face are nothing but self–possession—a sort of spiritual instability where a spirit convinces itself that it‘s under the domination of a Jinni. However, Jinn have nothing to do with it save for some Devils who whisper to spirits to convince them they’re possessed. This means that most possessions are just cases of delusion and psychological instability.

Some of you commit crimes and, when caught, claim you were possessed to try and get away with it. Possession is very common among those who are obsessed with Jinn and sorcery, but most of it is illusion, fraud, or trickery for personal gain.

A real possession case needs a lot of preparation and the right circumstances. For a person to get possessed, first he must be in a state between consciousness and unconsciousness, such as when someone is in an extreme state of fear, sadness, or happiness. Then the Jinni must be flexible in dealing the Human brain, which is not an easy matter. A Jinni needs lots of practice to perfect complete control of a Human mind and body.

I explained this all to Eyad, but he had no interest in all of the details. He was just interested in helping Sawsan. He sent me a map to his house—or, more accurately, his palace. Eyad’s father, Mr. Mansour Al-Zaydi, was a brilliant businessman who had moved to Jeddah when Eyad was a small kid to manage many real-estate projects in Jeddah and Makkah. Eyad, an only child, made him the only recipient of his father’s fondness and wealth. Along with it, his hope that Eyad would someday take over his empire. Eyad, by nature, was an impulsive boy who loved life. He had everything any young man would dream of: health, wealth, good looks, intelligence, and good manners. Yet he opposed his father’s demand that he study business management and insisted instead on studying medicine—followed by an MBA to accommodate his aspirations as well as his father’s.

I arrived at that palace in the district of Obhur, far north of Jeddah, in just a few moments. Eyad opened the gates and stood there waiting. It seemed to me that he lived there alone with the servants because of all of his parents’ traveling. I went close to him, concentrated to cross into your world, and whispered, “Eyad.”

I was expecting him to panic, or the least to be surprised, but he answered me calmly and with confidence: “Come on in, Hawjan.”

He walked in front of me as if seeing me. I followed him to the main hall, where he sat on a couch and pointed for me to sit on the one next to him.

“I have no idea how I can show you hospitality, but consider yourself at home,” he said.

“Do not worry.” Unlike the first time I’d spoken, this time my voice was clear. I could hear my echo bouncing off the marble floor and walls. Now I knew I could talk in your world easily, without the need for your devices.

Eyad was looking with interest at the couch he had asked me to sit on, as if he were looking at a real person. I appreciated that even though his gaze was not aimed toward my eyes.

He started off by asking me the question that had been burning him up: “Hawjan, I need you to explain what’s happened. I need all the details.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have nowhere to go!”

I spent two hours telling him the story with all of its details. Eyad listened silently, looking at the void on the couch and holding back his tears for Sawsan. When I stopped talking, he picked up his phone.

“What is this damned Abu Attiyah’s number?” he asked me.

I gave it to him, and he dialed it. When he spoke, his angry tone changed suddenly to calm confidence.

“Hi, Abu Attiyah? How are you?”

“Hey, who is this?”

“I am Eyad Al-Zaydi. Someone gave me your number. Our relative started having nightmares, and his hand would go numb ever since he moved into his new house. They told us the house is haunted and that you knew experts that can help us.”

“Are you Eyad Al-Zaydi? Your mother is Noora Abdulmuhsin?”

“No, I think you have me confused. My mother is Manal Al-Aqeel.”

I wished I had ripped the phone out of his hand before he could say his mother’s name, but it is too late now.

Abu Attiyah wrapped up the call. “Okay. I will excuse myself now as I am a bit busy. But I will save your number and call you back the moment I have time.”

The moment Eyad hung up, I asked him, “Why did you give him your mother’s name?”

“Why? What’s wrong with that?”

“This weasel must be an expert in sorcery and the like. He asked for your mother’s name to do a background check and make sure you’re not setting him up! Now he’ll know and take precautions. We’ll never get to him!”

“He got me there. Don’t worry, though. I wouldn’t be Eyad if I couldn’t find him.”

“The most important thing now is to prepare for facing Mussa the sorcerer and the Marids who follow him. We must stop them before they slaughter that goat! We must practice possession!”

“Why do you need to possess me? I can face them, or inform the authorities and have them thrown in jail.”

“First of all, if the authorities get involved Dr. Abdulraheem will be implicated. Secondly you  cannot see or affect the Marids that are with the sorcerer.”

“When you possess me, will I be able to see them?” - Eyad asked.

“I’ll see them, and at the same time I’ll control your body to deal with the Humans while you will not be aware of anything, but I haven’t yet practiced full materialization in your world, and when I come into your world I feel weak, cold, and suffocating, so I can’t stay for long.”

Eyad followed, “so my body will be like a car for you. You’ll have all my strength!”

“Exactly!  And I’ll bring out your inner strength.” - I replied.

“Inner?” - Eyad quipped.

“I mean your entire strength! Humans only use a fraction of their body’s capabilities. Their inner or potential strength only explodes in critical situations.” - I explained.

Eyad continued- “You mean the effects of adrenaline and noradrenaline. Wicked! I’m ready! but…”

“But what?” - I asked.

“I mean… shouldn’t one be unclean and unprotected and such to get possessed? I prayed Isha (night’s prayers) before you arrived and recited every prayer that I know… Please don’t be upset!”

“Do I seem like a devil to you? I also prayed Isha and recited my prayers! And, God willing, he will protect both of us from any devils and all evil!” - I added.

“OK, so how should we start to practice?” - Eyad said.

“You must be in a state in between consciousness and unconsciousness. And you must be far from any sharp, solid objects.” - I explained.

Eyad: “The conscious part I can understand, but what’s with the solid and sharp objects?”

Me: “The brain is a sensitive organ, and the possession process is accompanied by electrical disturbance in the brain, causing spasm and seizures. We wouldn’t want you to injure yourself when that happens”

Eyad: “Okay, and does it not have any effect on the heart?”

Eyad: “By the way I’m a doctor like you. So don’t worry. I am not sure about the effects on the heart, I’ll be careful.”

Eyad went through his home medical cabinet and found some Tramadol his father used to ease his pain and cause a state of numbness. He went out to the garden and took two of the pills. He sat on the grass in a yoga-like pose, bit down on a towel, and closed his eyes. I observed his energy colors;

I won’t take you through another scientific maze, but in short we can see the energy emerging from you Humans, and it tells us a lot about you.

The pills’ effect had started, and I had to move fast before Eyad got too sleepy or even totally blackout. I sat in the exact spot where he was sitting, closed my eyes, and concentrated on the fading violet shade of his energy. I had to make sure I didn’t materialize in your world while I tried this, otherwise I would kill him. I felt a strong shiver in my body, and I looked at his hands, which also shivered and retracted. I felt a stronger shiver, and I realized I was feeling his shivering. His legs got stiff, and the trembling became more violent as I felt pain all over my body. I tried to open his hands with no success. His eyes were half open, frozen toward the sky, and his legs beat the air uncontrollably—and I was feeling it all! I felt every detail. His heart beat like a loud drum in my chest. I had to stop before he got hurt.

I slowly moved away, and my shivering stopped, but he was still trembling. In fact it was getting worse. His face turned blue, and white foam came out from between his lips. I had to wake him up before it was too late. After I was sure I had left his body completely, I yelled to him as loudly as I could, but he did not respond. I materialized and held him by the shoulders, and shook him as I called his name, I turned him to his side, and the shaking slowly stopped.

When he regained his consciousness, he could hardly speak. “So did it work? How was the test drive?” A few seconds ago he had been about to lose his life, and now he can joke!

“We must try it more than once. Can you stand up?”

He looked at me with heavy eyes. “Can you help me?”

I extended my materialized arm to him, and held his hand to help him up.

“Come tomorrow to try again,” he said.

“Sleep well. Your body must rest!”

“Wait, I have to give you something.” He went into the house and came back with a cell phone. “Can you carry this with you? This is my backup phone, so you can call me anytime.”

I materialized and took the phone. He looked at it as it elevated to my ear, allowing him to notice my height. “Man, I thought you were a giant. You’re small!”

“Let’s try,” I said, ignoring his comment. I dialed his number, which I knew by heart.

He picked up his other phone. “Cool, Dr. E Z is calling!”

“Dr. E Z? Eyad Zaydi?”

“Of course. It’s a cool name!”

My materialization reversed; I returned to my world, and the cell phone returned with me. I tried to call again, but the signal was gone. It seemed I had to materialize to make a call.

“From now on I won’t be surprised by any magic tricks,” Eyad went on. “I saw my phone disappear right in front of my eyes. It’s just a simple trick! So listen, I’ll pay the phone bill, and you find a way to charge the battery, but don’t break my back with cross-world calls to your Jinni girlfriends.”

His joke reminded me of Jumara, and I went back home—to Sawsan’s home. Honestly I got so absorbed with Eyad that I’d lost track of time and forgotten about Jumara being alone. I was terrified when I didn’t find her in our room in the yard, and immediately went to Sawsan’s room. I was sure she had gone back to it. I went in through the window and saw the last thing I wanted to see in that moment: Sawsan!

She sat on the edge of her bed dressed in a strange assortment of clothes—an inside-out shirt on top of a dress with jeans. She held a picture in one hand and put makeup on her face with the other, but in a funny way, as if she were a child. Which made me realize, it wasn’t Sawsan—it was Jumara! Fully formed in your world as Sawsan. It was an indescribable situation.

She turned to me and smiled, “Hawjan, you came. What do you think of my look?”

She had gone mad! No, I had gone mad! Why was she doing this to herself? She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen! Why was she disfiguring herself like that?

“Jumara, what is this? Leave before anyone sees you!”

She ignored me. She was looking at a picture of Sawsan with her friends, and trying to imitate their makeup. “Just a moment. I’m almost done.”

I heard steps coming toward the room. “Jumara, someone is coming. Let’s leave fast!”

She didn’t respond. She just kept gazing at her face in the mirror and comparing it to the girls’ faces in the picture.

“Do you not like the way I look, Hawjan?”

I couldn’t control myself. I materialized so I could grab her, and in the same moment Dr. Abdulraheem opened the door. He froze. I took Jumara and pulled her into our dimension, but it was too late. I had seen the terror in the eyes of the poor doctor after he saw his daughter disappear, and her clothes and picture fall to the ground.

I didn’t say a word to Jumara. All I heard was her tears. Jumara was an Efreet? But how? Why had she not told me? My heart was torn; for the first time I pitied someone more than I pitied Sawsan. I tried holding Jumara in my arms, but she was angry and refused. I looked into her eyes and wiped her tears. She couldn’t hold back anymore, and a river exploded from her eyes as she threw her head onto my chest. I slowly moved my hands over her head and cheeks.

“Forgive me, Jumara. Forgive me.”

(15)

Eyad…and the Lamborghini

There is, in my opinion, a strong relationship between feminism and childhood. A female, no matter how mature she becomes, does not move far from that child inside her—the one who cannot control her tears. If she ever rebels against her inner child, she loses part of her feminism!

In that sense Jumara was a perfect female. Her crying calmed down but did not stop; her remaining tears were not enough to release her pain, so she decided to get it out in words. She spoke without taking her head off my chest. Without me even responding to her with a single word. She was not in need of my mind, logic or words. She only needed my heart to listen to her and absorb her tears.

“I have always been alone!” she cried. “Denied the warmth of my mother. My father only compensated me with his cruelty. I hated all of my family. I would run away to play alone. The only person who showed me compassion was Uncle Meehal.”

She took a breath as if think of what to say next. “I never knew there were worlds other than our own until Humans increased in number in Qummah. I would see them stop their boats to relax after fishing. I would wake up just before sunset to watch them from afar. I tried to draw their attention but couldn’t. And one day I entered a ship to see what it looked like, and as I was in the storage room the door closed. I was terrified. I tried to open it but couldn’t. I tried knocking and couldn’t do that either, and in my fright I felt cold and suffocated. I was sure I would die.”

Jumara paused again to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “I knocked on the door, and this time I felt it, and my hand hurt. And I heard the sound of the knock. It was the first time I had materialized in another world. The door opened and I saw Hussain, a small, strange Human. He could feel me and hear me without me even materializing. After that I would always play with him. I learned Human behavior and language from him.“

She shifted in her seat and lifted her head a bit, but then dropped it back onto my chest. She was tired and weak, but went on with her story. “In a short time, I was able to materialize easily without suffocating, and could do it whenever I meet Hussain. I would throw rocks at the ship when I arrived at the port so he knew I was there. But after some time he disappeared. I was concerned for him, and went looking for him in every ship that came, but without luck. His father was gone too. After a while I saw his father standing on a ship, and people were crowded around him. I went closer and heard someone telling him, “You have our condolences,” and he was crying. I learned that Hussain had died from a fever. I cried so much.”

And she did the same now, as if the memory had been too much for her. “While I was still on the ship, it sailed away. I only noticed when we were too far from Qummah for me to return. I formed as a Human and hid, and when we got to a village named Qussar, I got off the boat. I found myself amongst Humans. They were all confused and kept asking me about my family. All I could do was cry. Finally Uncle Meehal came to them formed as an old man and told them he was my grandfather. He took me back home. On the way he insisted that I swear never to tell anyone I could materialize, because if they knew they would not let me be. You are the first to know that I have all the Fayhee powers Uncle Meehal had. Even Xanam doesn’t know. You and I are the only two who have the Fayhee powers.”

Now I understood why father had been so keen for me to marry Jumara—to keep the Fayhee bloodline pure. Jumara’s head got heavier after her last words, and she gave in to sleep, as did I.

Just a few short hours passed before I heard a sudden, annoying music that I traced to Eyad’s phone. I materialized to answer before it could awaken Jumara.

“Eyad?”

“You’re supposed to check the caller name before answering! If you answer someone else’s call by mistake, you could reveal your existence. Then we would all be in big trouble! Come—let’s continue our practice!”

Jumara awakened and stopped me as I was about to leave. “Where are you going? You didn’t get enough sleep.”

“I am going to see Eyad.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You must stay here, just in case the sorcerer comes.”

“And what am I supposed to do if he does?”

I gave her Eyad’s phone. “This is a cell phone. You can use it easily. This is Eyad’s number. Just press the button to call me if something happens.”

I went to Eyad’s and entered through the gates, and found him on the floor in front of his huge TV. Around him were stacks of movies.

When I entered he said, as if seeing me, “Sit down, Hawjan.”

“How did you know I’ve arrived?”

“I’m an expert in paranormals now! Okay, that’s a joke. I said, ‘Sit down, Hawjan’ several times so far with no success until you came.”

“Your eyes are as red as embers. Did you not sleep?”

“Of course I didn’t. How could I sleep after what happened? Do you watch movies, Hawjan?”

“My world has no movie theaters.”

“That’s funny. We don’t have them in Saudi either. Come look. See? All of these movies are about Jinn, spirits, and possession.”

I watched some scenes Eyad showed me. These were Western movies about possessions, with priests performing exorcisms.

Eyad said, “The same thing happens here. There’s a huge exorcism business here. See what happens to possessed people? The same thing will happen to me, right?”

“Well, yes, but those people are not possessed.”

“Do you want to drive me crazy? Can’t you see what’s happening to them? They’re shaking and making strange movements, and saying strange things in terrifying voices.”

“Most of it’s imitation, not possession.”

“So now I’m talking to myself and imitating a person talking to a Jinni?”

“No, not at all. But you must understand that the spirit—or let’s call it the subconscious—has a lot of secrets, and even more capabilities. Any amateur hypnotist can make you convinced you’re a frog and get you to act like one.”

“Are you telling me there’s no such things as magic and possession?”

“Of course there are, but not like that. You’ll find people living all their lives thinking their problems are because of magic and Jinn, so they ask for the aid of Humans and Jinn alike to cure them from their imaginary problems. And there are those who make money off these people’s ignorance.”

“Listen, I’m a pinch away from cracking! Tell me something scientific that I can understand.”

“Your soul—I mean your subconscious—can control everything in your body. But you need to control your mind first! How would you explain the fact that exorcisms follow the same rituals everywhere in the world and in every religion? If it’s a religious matter, why have we not heard that one of the prophets had done it? Why do we see such rituals only in regions where the people are obsessed with Jinn and magic? This all starts with a person convincing himself he’s possessed or that someone cast a spell on him, or a devil might whisper it to him or those around him. Such messages collate and get stronger until they become a conviction in his subconscious, and when the exorcism ritual starts, he’s hypnotized. His subconscious believes he actually is possessed, and his reaction to the priest is based on this conviction. Why are you asking all of these questions? Are you scared?”

“Me? Scared? Come with me and I’ll show you real fear!”

Eyad stood up and picked up a bag, and I followed him. He opened his garage gate, behind which was a sports car the likes of which I had never seen on the streets. It was fiery yellow and very low to the ground. On its front was a picture of a bull, and the plates read “EYAD 1111.”

“This is what will scare the both of us,” he said.

“This car?”

“What do you mean this car? This is not a car. This is a Lamborghini… Lamboooorghiiiniiiii!”

“What makes it different from other cars?”

“This, Allah bless you, is exactly like a Sonata but can go three hundred sixty kilometers per hour. And its price is over a million! Hop in.”

It truly was a strange car. Especially the doors, which opened upward. I sat down in the passenger’s seat; Eyad pressed the ignition button, and the engine roared.

“Listen, Hawjan, driving is pretty easy. This is a steering wheel. You turn it to steer the car. This is the gas pedal. Push it to speed up. This is the brake pedal to stop!”

“Are you teaching me? Why?”

“Because this is the only way we can put our subconsciouses, as you say, under pressure, and challenge them so we will be forced to make the possession work.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will in a moment!”

As he said that, he emptied his bag on my seat. A bunch of drug bottles fell out along with some power drink cans. I picked up the tramadol and a second drug. “What is this?”

“You’re a doctor and you don’t know Tegretol? It reduces the electric current in the body and brain. I also brought some Red Bull in case I need to wake up. But the most important drug amongst them all is the heavy metal!”

He pressed a button, sending out some very loud, disturbing music, and swallowed two pills of each drug. Then he drove the car out of the gate.

“Listen, Hawjan. You’ll have five minutes to watch me drive and learn how to do it yourself. After that I’ll be too sleepy, and you’ll have to take over driving the car as well as my body. If anything happens to me, that’s okay. But if anything happens to my car, I swear to God I will burn you alive. Understood?”

He put the pedal to the metal, making the car race off before I had a chance to object. I noticed his grip on the steering wheel easing and his eyes getting heavy. I sat in his place and concentrated on his body’s energy and felt his hands. I saw the road in front of me and the cars racing toward Me. Eyad’s hands started to squeeze, and he started to shake. I tried controlling his foot, but it had frozen on the gas pedal, and we were flying toward the edge of a bridge. I tried with all my strength to remove his foot, and finally it responded. I stepped on the brakes, stopping the car suddenly, and heard the cars behind us braking as well.

Eyad’s head slammed into the steering wheel, and I felt enormous pain in my forehead as well as a line of warm blood. I now had full control over him and his car, and I raced away from the other drivers, whose angry horns and vulgar insults followed me. In just a few moments, I was driving that thing with ease. I went to the highway and slammed the gas pedal down, watching the speedometer reach its edge as I maneuvered between other slow-moving cars. We passed them in a blur, yet it was not really fast as far as I was concerned. Even at such a speed we would need more than an hour to reach Yatmah. In my world I could go and come back in less than half an hour.

I saw a police car on the horizon turning on all of its lights and sirens as we approached, and we passed it by. I was afraid to cause any problems for Eyad, so I pulled over and slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a violent stop once again. This time I made sure not to slam Eyad’s head against the wheel.

The police car stopped right behind me, barely avoiding slamming into us. I left Eyad’s body quickly as I watched the policeman, who was talking on his radio, come toward us. Eyad’s body fell on the steering wheel the moment I left it, and I materialized to shake him before the cop got to him. He woke up, put a hand to his head injury, and looked around.

“I’m still alive? Did something happen to the car? Are you here, Hawjan?”

He looked at the mirror and saw the policeman coming toward the car and looking clearly angry. Eyad turned off the loud music. “What have you done, Hawjan?”

The cop looked through the window and saw all the drugs scattered around the car along with the power drinks. Then he looked at Eyad’s face, with his two red, sleepy eyes and the line of blood coming from his forehead down his cheek. Eyad tried to calm the cop down—obviously he had experience with this.

“Hi, Officer. How are you, Officer…uhhh…” He squinted at the man’s name tag. “Fahad?”

“What’s wrong with you?” the cop asked. “Are you possessed?”

“Aaaah. Jinn and Efreets? No of course not! My aunt is in the ICU in Maddina, and they called me because they need to operate on her and I must donate blood! Give me as many tickets as you want, just let me get there on time.”

His tone of voice was good, but it did not fully convince the cop. He just wrote down the car plates and let Eyad go.

“See?” he asked me as he guzzled down a power drink. “My plan worked! I was sure it would work!”

“You were going to kill us.”

“I was going to kill myself! And who the hell got us to Maddina in an hour, Mr. Hawjan Schumacher?”

Eyad’s phone rang through the car’s sound system. He pressed the “answer” button on the steering wheel, and the name Dr. E Z appeared on the dashboard screen. I heard Jumara speaking in our language, which Eyad could not understand:

“Hawjan,” she said. “Come back. Come fast!”

(16)

Takkaw’s Devils!

Dr. Abdulraheem Said was a man of logic and science, religious and well mannered—all the characteristics needed to avoid charlatanry. His only flaw was that he was a Human! I hope my honesty does not offend you, but that is the truth: Humans have one main dangerous weakness. Ever since your father Adam came down to Earth, you have been in an eternal battle with Lucifer, who completely understands your weakness and can play it like a guitar. The Holy Quran teaches us the essence of our connection to Allah and our dependence on him, and warns us of polytheism. You consider those warnings a mere tale of extinct nations, and believe you would never make those same mistakes. But reality, unfortunately, proves the opposite.

It is foolish to think polytheism is only prostration to a stone or a cow. Indeed it is a seed in the heart that makes one believe in something other than Allah. That is why our prophet has taught us to pray to Allah that we never face such a trial. It does not come with a sign; it comes hidden and wrapped in religious garb. A polytheist is convinced he is getting closer to Allah by following that idol; he sanctifies and follows the idol blindly, thinking he is a super person who controls people’s fates or livelihoods, or cures their ills, or even controls their consciences and religion. Dr. Abdulraheem fell onto this dangerous slide; his material needs made him greedy, and he fell for the promises of Mussa Takkaw, the sorcerer who claimed to be a religious man. Thus the doctor’s situation worsened, and he found himself with the choice of sacrificing his daughter’s life and doing what the sorcerer asked.

Jumara’s screaming had put me on edge. If I moved as fast as I could to Sawsan’s house, I would need at least ten minutes to get there—by then the devil might have claimed this round. The doctor might have slaughter the goat, and then I would have nothing to do for Sawsan other than pray. The house would turn into a colony of devils. I had to get there fast, and Eyad had to follow me. This meant I might have to face the sorcerer alone, but there was no way Eyad could make it there in less than an hour in his car.

I materialized for a moment to open the door, and told Eyad as I was racing off, “Follow me to Sawsan’s house—fast!”

“I don’t know where her house is!”

I had no time to answer him. I was sure he would find a way. He could call one of her friends to get the address.

In a few moments, I was jumping over the house’s fence and saw a horrible sight! At the doorstep Abu Attiyah stood holding a large envelope, and in front of him the huge African Mussa Takkaw sat on his knees, sleeves rolled all the way up while holding the goat and pointing his head in the direction opposite to Makkah as he uttered. Next to him was Dr. Abdulraheem holding a knife, and a Marid was there to witness the event

The doctor repeated what the sorcerer was saying. “In your name, Manan.” This was one of Allah’s ninety-nine names; it meant beneficent. He was using it to make his words sound religious while he mixed in sorcery.

“Manan, Manan… Nan Nan… By the right of King Haran… Let him send away the haunters of the place, oh Nan, Nan.”

His hands shook, and his eyes were closed. Just as he prepared to pass the knife over the goat’s neck, the villa’s door opened and Sawsan appeared! She stood right in front of her father. Dr. Abdulraheem gasped in fear as she gazed at him.

“Dad,” she said. “This is forbidden!”

I was paralyzed. I didn’t know what to do! If I intervened to stop the doctor by force, the Marid witness would testify that the doctor was willing to give the sacrifice and I had intervened and stopped him.

Abu Attiyah yelled to end this moment of silence: “Sawsan is in the hospital! This is the devil of this place.”

At that same moment the sorcerer picked the knife from the doctor’s hand and attacked Sawsan—or, more accurately, Jumara, who had taken Sawsan’s form to stop Dr. Abdulraheem. Now I could intervene. Now I had to intervene! I don’t know if you know this, but a soul leaves its body at death in any dimension, even during sleep, so if you dream you’re killed and your soul is convinced this is true, it will not return to your body. This applies to us as well; in fact when we materialize in your world we are much weaker and more prone to injury and death. That’s why I needed Eyad in that moment—to use his body without materializing and losing my powers.

I pushed myself toward the sorcerer, who had pointed the knife at Jumara, but I had only a fraction of a second. How would I save her? How would she return to our world? My movement did not affect Mussa, and Jumara screamed as the knife struck her neck. Then, suddenly, the giant tumbled. Dr. Abdulraheem had pushed him with force, as he could not bear the thought of seeing his daughter slaughtered in front of him—even he was convinced that she was a devil in disguise. Jumara disappeared, and her clothes fell to the ground, as did the knife.

At that point I went mad. I left them and carried Jumara in my arms.

“The wound is not deep, Hawjan,” she said. “Go. Stop them before he slaughters the goat!”

“You are more important,” I responded gently.

“Really?”

She said it as if my words had healed her wound much more than the medicines I gave her and the bandages I expertly wrapped around it. She watched me with a smile of love. Could a passing word do this to her? A moment ago she had been about to get killed because of me, and now she showered me with the love coming from her eyes just because I had made her feel how important she was to me.

“Forgive me, Jumara. I need to go to them. This is my only chance to catch the sorcerer.”

“You don’t need to ask for forgiveness. I am yours, Hawjan!”

I went out of the house only to find the dust trail of Abu Attiyah’s car rising up into the air. In the distance I recognized Eyad’s car approaching, so I raced to him. I materialized and tried to open the car’s door, but it would not open. I hit the window, making Eyad unlock the door, then opened the door while the car was racing off. Others on the road honked, probably thinking the door opened by malfunction.

“Eyad, are you ready?”

“I haven’t slept in the past twenty-four hours, and I haven’t eaten anything, I’ve been possessed by a Jinni twice, and I’ve swallowed four tramadol, four Tegretol, and three Red Bulls. I think I am pretty much ready.”

He closed his eyes without releasing the steering wheel, and this time I was able to possess him in an instant. I raced to catch up with Abu Attiyah’s car. I didn’t care about speed limits, traffic lights, or even road directions. I slowed down when I glimpsed his car at the horizon so I could follow him without raising any suspicion, but his’ were raised anyway when he noticed I had been following him for a long time, especially when he went through the mazes of streets in questionable parts of town. Abu Attiyah suddenly took a turn, and when I turned behind him I found myself in a dead-end alley. His car was parked at the end, and the sorcerer was entering a building next to it.

Abu Attiyah tried reversing out of the ally through the narrow space between Eyad’s car and the wall. I didn’t know how to go backward, so I moved forward to try to make it harder for him to get out. His car scratched Eyad’s and the wall, but he was able to get away. I didn’t waste my time with him, as the sorcerer was more important.

I got out of the car and raced to the building. Just before I got to it, two giants came out, one of which greeted me with a punch in the gut so hard I felt it in my spine. I would have to depend on Eyad’s athletic body and my visual speed to fight them. I took a defensive stand as the other giant tried to attack me with a second punch. I swiveled to avoid it, and he lost balance for a moment. I focused all my power into my—I mean Eyad’s fist and threw it at the giant’s jaw. I heard the discomforting sound of its bones shattering and saw a bunch of teeth flying out of his torn lips. I looked at Eyad’s fist and found it bleeding, and felt an enormous pain in my hand. I would have to be careful not to destroy Eyad’s body, and not to kill anyone and land him in jail.

The punch struck fear in the other giant, who retreated slowly, but then picked up a steel rod off the ground and waved it around before attacking me. I had no idea what the limits of a Human body were, but I was able to jump over two meters, avoiding the rod. As I came down, I swung my leg, kicking the giant in the face, leaving him deformed like his friend.

I moved into the building and kicked down doors, looking for Mussa Takkaw. I found him sitting and uttering. Around him were a bunch of Marids. The moment they saw me they attacked, and I left Eyad’s body, which fell like a rock. I returned to my world to deal with the Marids.

One of them yelled, “You’ve crossed the line, Human dog!”

There were five or six of them, and they piled up on me. Their leader held me by the throat while the others battered me from every direction. The sorcerer attacked Eyad, choking him while Eyad was barely conscious. At that moment I remembered what King Hayaf had told me about my scream. I remembered my father, Grandfather, Mother’s tears, Sawsan’s pain, and Jumara’s blood, and I screamed from the deepest part of my soul! Then I blacked out. When I woke up, I found the Marids’ bodies scattered around me, and fire everywhere. Eyad was coughing badly, and Mussa Takkaw was making his way out of the fire, his most valuable belongings clutched in his arms.

I shouted at Eyad, “You must focus. I must possess you, otherwise you will suffocate here!”

He was unable to talk, but he nodded. I possessed him in an instant. Though a second ago his body couldn’t move, now it was vibrant. I felt pain in every part of my body from his injuries.

I almost suffocated as I jumped through the fire and smoke to catch Mussa by the back of his neck. As we both fell down a set of stairs, he mumbled, thinking his Marids were still around to help him. I punched him, knocking out some of his teeth; I didn’t see them fly out, but I could clearly see they were missing. He must have swallowed them. He blacked out, and I stuffed him and his things into Eyad’s car, and grabbed the envelope Abu Attiyah had given him. I then drove him to the last place such a sorcerer would want to see: the nearest office of the Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice! I dragged him out of the car as the workers there watched in surprise as I dragged this criminal in. I threw him at the front desk and sprinkled his talismans over his head as I said:

“I have overcome a sorcerer warlock by Gods mercy!”

My statement was all they needed to deal with his likes.

I drove Eyad’s car back to Sawsan’s house. I couldn’t leave Eyad’s body while he was in this critical condition, but I needed to make sure Jumara was okay. I picked up his phone and called Dr. E Z. Jumara answered the call in Arabic just in case I was Eyad or anyone else.

“Jumara?” Although it was not my voice, she realized I was in Eyad’s body:

“My love, I was so worried about you!”

“Come. I’m outside. I can’t come in while I’m possessing Eyad.”

She came out, and I opened the car door for her. We drove back to Eyad’s palace, I went in with confidence. The maid opened the door and was shocked when she saw his body covered in blood:

“Mr. Eyad! What happened? I will call doctor for you!”

“No, it’s okay. I’m good. Just make me some dinner.”

I went to Eyad’s room, set his body on his bed, and left him next to Jumara. He coughed and moaned with pain.

“Aaah, my head. My hands, my legs. What have you done to me, Hawjan?”

The maid came in with the dinner tray and set it on his desk.

“Just bring it over here,” he said. “I can’t even move!"

The maid set the food tray next o his bed and left the room, and Eyad shouted, “Haaawwwwjjjaaannn, are you here? Speak!”

“Sure, I’m here,” I replied, “and I have Jumara with me.”

“Hi, Jumara. Can you see what your husband has done to me?”

Jumara smiled as she felt her own wound. “What he’s done to both of us. I too got injured today.”

“That’s okay. As long as the car is okay.”

“Mmmm. About the car… I think it was injured as well.”

“Really? No! Nooo! Not my Lamborghini!”

“Eyad, thank you for your chivalry. No one would do all of this for someone he has no relationship with!”

“Of course I would do this and more for Sawsan. My future bride!”

(17)

Would You Marry Me?

Ascorpion will only strike you if you get close to it and it feels endangered, but this is not the case with a Human scorpion. He will come close to you and sting you if he feels safe, to gain personal interests at the cost of your life! Abu Attiyah was a Human scorpion that lived amongst you; he coated his poison with sweet words before he emptied his stinger and then fled to look for his next victim.

While Eyad surrendered to deep sleep, Jumara and I thought about the best way to get Dr. Abdulraheem’s money back. I opened the envelope I had taken from Mussa and found seven hundred and fifty thousand Saudi riyals inside—half the amount the doctor was supposed to hand over. Abu Attiyah must have been fooling the doctor, as he had taken half the amount for himself. In any case I still could not figure out how I would give the doctor his money back. I could easily put it on his bed, but that would confirm what Abu Attiyah had been telling him—that the house was haunted—and throw him under the mercy of a second imposter. Should I send it with Eyad? No, no. I did not want the doctor to know Eyad had anything to do with this Jinn business.

We left Eyad asleep and returned to our home. From there I noticed the living room lights in the house were on, and I was afraid Abu Attiyah had returned to the doctor. I went closer and heard the doctor; he was praying, asking Allah for forgiveness and to help his daughter. Truly Allah had saved him from the catastrophe of polytheism. Thank Allah that Jumara had been there and been able to stop him.

I did not talk much about Sawsan out of respect for Jumara’s feelings. But I failed to hold my tears when I saw her enter her house for the first time after waking from her coma. Even Jumara was a little choked up. Sawsan could barely walk; she leaned on her father and mother. When she entered her room, which they had cleaned for her, the first thing she saw was her tablet. She looked the other way and said to Hattan while pointing at it, “Please take my tablet with you. Let me rest. I’m so tired and need to rest.”

Everyone left her room. I pulled Jumara by her shoulders, and we went out the window. I watched Sawsan come toward it with clumsy steps and slam it shut instead of singing to her flowers, which had paled in her absence.

“Hawjan, we must find a cure for Sawsan’s illness,” Jumara said. I was too sad to answer her, so she went on. “What do you think of negotiating with King Hayaf to send the Marids of Morocco? They might help her.”

“God is more merciful to her than we are, and He is the one who can cure, her not King Hayaf.”

Eyad’s phone rang. It seemed he was getting better, and he asked me to come. Jumara refused to leave my side for an instant after all that had happened, so we went to him together.

Eyad had left the door open as usual, and I found him on the phone.

“Yes, sir, the address is clear. Thanks a million, sir. Throw me in jail if I turn out to be a liar. Yes, I am prepared! Thank you very much.”

He ended the call and wrote down an address.

“Eyad, who was that?” My voice did not startle him, as he had been expecting me.

“Come. Let me explain what I plan to do to this scum Abu Attiyah!”

Eyad was one of the few who did not acknowledge the impossible. He had gone through all of his contacts until he’d found an investigation officer; Eyad had told him about Abu Attiyah and asked for his help to find his address from his phone number—after promising to hand over evidence to incriminate him.

“Hawjan, we must make sure Dr. Abdulraheem is totally out of the picture,” he went on. “All we need to do is pay a nice visit to Abu Attiyah, take the rest of the money, and pick a piece of evidence that incriminates him so the police can throw him in jail.”

“How nice. It’s that easy? And how do you propose we do all of that?”

“Very easy. You possess him!”

Eyad’s plan was truly brilliant. The address didn’t give the exact house where Abu Attiyah was staying, but we got to the street near his home. Eyad turned off his car’s headlights.

“His house is supposed to be somewhere here,” he said. “Go on, Hawjan. Do your thing.”

I searched for Abu Attiyah’s car, but it was not among those parked on the street. I searched in the parking lots of the buildings and found it; I could make it out easily from the scratches on both sides. I also found out his apartment number from where it was parked. I went back to Eyad’s car.

“That building, the one with two palms in front of it,” I said.

Luckily the kitchen window was open, and we went through it. We found Abu Attiyah in his living room, sitting on the couch watching a stupid show and smoking a hookah. Jumara formed, as we had agreed, right behind him, and calmly whispered into his ear.

“You want to kill me? How dare you?”

Clearly frightened, he turned his head and saw her face, which almost froze his heart. It was Sawsan’s face! Jumara, who had formed as Sawsan, looked directly into his eyes. He could not contain himself and started shouting hysterically. Jumara forced her hand onto his mouth to shut him up.

I had to move now; this was the best moment for me to possess him! His violet energy was gone because of his fear I had to take its place before he fainted. I tried controlling his body, and he started to shake. But I had to control him no matter the cost! I focused and his shake dissipated. I stood up while leaning on the couch, set the hookah back up, and gathered the hot coal with his hands, ignoring the pain. To hell with him! Jumara came back to our world, and we both started to look for the money.

Then the bedroom door opened, and his wife came out rubbing her eyes and asking, “What are these sounds? Were you yelling at someone on the phone?”

“Go back to bed. Nothing happened,” I told her through Abu Attiyah’s body.

“What are you looking for?”

I had no idea if he had told her about the money, but this was my only chance—and again, to hell with him!

“The money I brought last week. I forgot where I put it.”

“Seriously, every since you brought that money home, your mind has left your head! Did you not say you paid it to that agent to buy the plot?”

“Okay, okay. Go back to sleep now. I’m expecting a visitor!”

Thankfully she did not suspect a thing as she slammed the door behind her. I opened the front door for Jumara, and she went outside to call Eyad. A short while later he knocked the door, and was surprised when Abu Attiyah answered it.

I whispered to him, “It is me, Hawjan! Come in quickly.”

“Did you find the money?” he asked, also keeping his voice low.

“There’s no time for the money. Just start filming.”

He focused his phone’s camera on the chair in which I sat, to film the scene that would incriminate Abu Attiyah. He set it in a way to make it seem as if Abu Attiyah did not know someone was filming him, and I started talking to an imaginary person.

“Abu Attiyah’s word is never broken! Fifty-fifty. Each of us will take seven hundred and fifty thousand, and if he ever brings the rest, we will split it. Tomorrow we will bring the goat, and you prepare the hex. We’ll let him slaughter the goat and bury the hex in the yard, and spill its blood at the entrance and—”

Eyad stopped filming on purpose, to make it seem as if the person filming had gotten scared. I returned to the couch where Abu Attiyah had been sitting when we’d come in, and relaxed to leave his body. He was in a coma when we went toward the door. Crazy Eyad had to go back to slap him and kick him in the gut. Then Eyad rushed to the door.

“I couldn’t resist,” he said. “I wish I could kill the scumbag.”

Eyad did exactly as he had promised the investigation officer—he handed over the evidence to incriminate Abu Attiyah, then uploaded the video of him negotiating with the sorcerer onto YouTube with a temporary account, and gave it a nice scandalous title to make sure he had no way to escape. What I did not understand was how he was able to hand the envelope to the officer with the full amount in it—one and a half million riyals. Eyad asked the officer to give it to Dr. Abdulraheem, as it had been found on the sorcerer who had admitted to his crime. The officer respected Eyad’s wishes not to get Dr. Abdulraheem involved in any interrogation. Eyad was truly amazing. Sawsan would have been lucky to have him.

I felt at ease now that this business with the sorcerer and Abu Attiyah was over and the doctor got his money back. After a few days, Eyad called upon Jumara and me to help him with a personal matter.

“Hawjan? Jumara? Are you here?” he called outside our room.

“What happened? You got us worried!” I said, inviting him in.

“I’m as strong as a horse! I just need Jumara’s help on a crucial matter.”

“What can I do for you Eyad?” she asked.

“I need you to help me propose to Sawsan.”

“What?”

“First let me show you a video clip of my mother.”

“Why?”

“I guess if you can form in any shape, it would be easy for you to imitate voices.”

In most of the Arabian world, you need to propose through the family. First the mothers get to know each other, and if they feel like their kids are a good match, they offer their opinion and introductions, and if everything goes smoothly then the fathers get involved.

Eyad was in possession of two dangerous traits: cunning and recklessness. He wanted Jumara to call as his mother and propose for him! Jumara was so happy about this; she would no longer need to worry about my love for Sawsan. Or, at least, she would push a real knight into Sawsan’s life. Someone who deserved her more than I did; someone who would force me to move aside and admit defeat, and forced me to forget her.

Eyad was amazed when he heard Jumara imitate his mother’s voice. “Wow, you sound just like her! I wish we could pull a few pranks on Father. Maybe some other time. Now let’s call Sawsan.”

“But I don’t know what to say,” Jumara told him.

“Simple. Each of us will wear a headset, and I’ll whisper to you what to say.”

Eyad went away for a moment, and came back with an old phone. “This is my mother’s spare phone. We’ll call from this phone and turn it off afterward.”

As Eyad called Sawsan’s number, my hearts was full of butterflies Sawsan did not answer, so he repeated the call, and just as he was about to give up, she answered, sounding confused as she did not know the number.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hello. I am Manal Al-Aqeel, Eyad Al-Zaydi’s mother. Is this Sawsan?” said Jumara as Eyad whispered to her.

“Hi, Aunt,” Sawsan replied as a sign of respect and indicating that she was like family. “How are you?”

“I’m great. I hope you’re feeling better. Sorry, I wanted to call your mother and could not find her number. Can I please talk to her?”

As Sawsan went to call her mother, I got a bit more nervous.

“Hello?” Mrs. Raja said at last.

“Hello,” said Jumara. “How are you, Um Hattan?”,

Um meant ‘Mother of’ as a lady in the Arabian world would be called out as the mother of her eldest son.

“I am well. Nice to meet you.”

“How is Sawsan doing? I hope she’s getting better.”

“We pray to Allah every day. Thank you for asking.”

“I don’t want to take too much of your time, but honestly we have heard lots of good things about you, and we would love to come ask for Sawsan’s hand, for her to marry my son Eyad. He is her colleague at school, and he can’t stop talking about her.”

Sawsan’s mother froze for a moment. This was a sensitive moment in any mother’s life. This call would change her daughter from a child to a woman with an independent life.

“I really don’t know what to tell you,” she finally said. “We would be honored, but you know Sawsan’s situation, and—”

Jumara cut her off—actually Eyad did. “By Allah’s mercy Sawsan will get better, and we just want to make your acquaintance.”

“Okay. I also need to ask her father and her, but you are more than welcome to visit us at any time.”

Eyad had not expected this to move so fast, but he came up with the next step and whispered it to Jumara. “We would love to visit you, but I’m calling from France. Eyad’s father and I will return in two months. Can I ask Eyad to visit you with his cousin? We will surely visit you to check up on Sawsan the moment we are back.”

“You are all welcome at any time.”

“Can they come next Wednesday after sunset?”

“They will be our honored guests.”

The call ended, and we all released sighs.

After that, days passed by so fast, and Wednesday came before we knew it. We went to Eyad almost an hour early and found him in a white, traditional Saudi thob (that is like a long shirt, almost like a dress) and a white ghoutrah (a head scarf). This was the first time I had seen him in formal dress, and it made him look even more prestigious and handsome.

“Eyad,” I said.

“You finally came. You’re late!”

“Has your cousin arrived?”

“I’m waiting for her to materialize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jumara will be my cousin. I have no uncles.”

—Every day this kid competed with yesterday’s craziness—.

“If you had no uncles how would you tell them your cousin will visit them? Surely this lie will unfold pretty quickly”

“Sawsan’s mother got me off guard, I had to improvise. Come on, Jumara,” he said. “Come up with a cousin as you see fit. You have my mother’s dressing room upstairs. Pick whatever you like.”

Jumara went up and returned in a few moments. Eyad and I froze as we gazed on that creature coming down the stairs—a nymph Jinni had formed in the Human world! Her feet barely touched the ground, and she was so luscious. Even Hollywood has never seen such beauty. She had eyes that would drown a man when he looked at them, and gold and brocade battled off her hair.

Eyad’s jaw dropped, and he said, “Jumara, do you have any sisters?”

I materialized for a moment to punch him in the chest, to get him to behave himself. He shouted in pain. “What’s wrong with you, Hawjan? Do you forget Jumara is older than my grandmother, and a couple of days ago was my mother, and now is my cousin?”

Jumara smiled. “This is the body I used to form in.”

“But Jumara, my mother’s mother is French, and her eyes are light hazel. Even lighter than mine.”

By the time Eyad had finished that sentence, Jumara’s eyes had turned from dark brown into light hazel, increasing her beauty even further. She had a little bit of makeup on, though she really did not need it. She had an amazing dress on and wore one of Eyad’s mother’s stylish cloaks.

We went outside, and Eyad opened the garage door. Now I knew where Eyad had gotten the money from. A small, baby car appeared; it felt almost a toy as we all stuffed inside it. Eyad and Jumara sat up front and I was in the back.

“So you sold the Lamborghini to come up with the doctor’s remaining amount?”

“Had it not been for your amateur driving, I could have sold it for a much better price and gotten myself a respectable BMW instead of this fly. I actually got the Lamborghini for this moment.”

We arrived at Sawsan’s house, and not wait long after we rang the bell, Hattan opened the door. He looked like he had been shocked with an electric current when he saw Jumara, and he led us to the living room. Imagine entering your own house as a guest. Sawsan’s mother came down, greeting us with warmth, and Sawsan followed her. I sat in the empty space next to Sawsan and watched her.

Jumara started to talk, melting the ice in the room:

“Sorry. Forgive us. We were supposed to visit you and check up on Sawsan a long time ago. I am Juma—Jumana. Eyad’s cousin. I study at a French university. Mom is French and Dad is half French. Luckily we came to Jeddah to visit dad’s uncles and make an Umra, and Aunt called me, asking me to come with Eyad to visit Sawsan and make your acquaintance.”

An Umra was a small pilgrimage. That much I heard, but I did not follow the greetings and other chatter that was going on. I was busy watching Sawsan. I saw her and her mother exchange a quick signal, then Mrs. Raja pulled Jumara by the hand, saying, “Come on, Jumana. Tell me about France. Let’s give Sawsan and Eyad some privacy.”

They moved to the other side of the living room, leaving us lone—Sawsan, Eyad, and me.

“Why, Eyad?” Sawsan asked.

“Why what?”

“Why are you proposing?”

“Sawsan, you know how much I like you.”

“Liking me is one thing. Marrying me is another. I have a brain tumor! Only Allah knows if I will live to the end of the month or not.”

He reached out to comfort her. She ran her fingers through her hair, and a small lock came out. She set it in Eyad’s hand.

“My health is moving out of me just like my hair,” she said. “You deserve an angel who can live with you and make you happy. Not a mutant who lingers between life and death.”

Eyad closed his hand on her hair as his tears fell. “Sawsan, please give me a chance to be beside you for the rest of your days. Trust me. I am sure Allah will cure you, and you will become my angel who will make me happy for the rest of my life.”

She looked downward and cried too.

Then Eyad said, “Sawsan, someone is here to talk to you and explain a lot of things to you.”

“Who?”

“Hawjan, come here!” he called, and relaxed his head on the couch for me to possess him.

(18)

My Love, My Wife, and My Son

Do you know what is the worst crime you can commit against yourself? It is to discard your soul. Life is a battlefield, and you are the machine at its center—a machine with organs and driven by materialistic interests, engulfed in controlling ideologies that claim transcendence although it is immoral. That said, there are those who value their souls, and see through them what hides behind those Human machines. They see through the eyes of intuition, emotion, insight, physiognomy, telepathy, or whatever other terminology you use as ignorance of the unnatural, metaphysical, or what lies beyond the mind. It is the mind that entraps you all inside your machines.

Sawsan was one of the few who had not buried her soul in the grave of the mind. The moment I possessed Eyad and raise my head off the couch and looked directly into her eyes, and she looked into mine for the first time, she immediately saw me through Eyad’s body and knew me. She gasped and held my hand between hers, and her tears ran as she said, “Hawjan! I missed you, Hawjan. I missed you!”

“Are you not afraid of me?”

She ignored my silly question and kissed my fingers. “I was dying from fear for you! Why did you go and leave me? I was scared something had happened to you.”

I felt the world’s heat flowing in my body from her lips through my fingers, and my tears exploded. “Forgive me. I know you have suffered a lot with me.”— I implored Sawsan.

“Don’t ask me for forgiveness. I know you’ve suffered even more.”—Sawsan replied

“Sawsan, did Xanam harm you in any way?” —I asked.

“His name is Xanam?” —Sawsan asked

“Him and others. Devils and sorcerers tried to trick your father. But don’t worry—”

“I’m sure you got rid of them, my hero,” she interrupted.

I sighed. “Eyad is your real hero. He sacrificed his life more than once for you.”

As I said it, I looked at the scars on from injuries on his arm. Sawsan felt the scar on his forehead with her fingers, though she would not acknowledge his existence, as if I had taken his place.

“Why did you do this to yourself, Hawjan?” she finally asked.

“Sawsan, Eyad deserves you. He truly deserves you.”—I replied.

“But I do not deserve him! Eyad is every girl’s dream, and he deserves an Angel like his cousin.”

As she said this, she turned to the other side of the living room, toward Jumara and her mother. They sat in a corner from which Jumara could barely see us. Yet she noticed me possessing Eyad and holding Sawsan’s hand, and the yearning in our eyes. She struggled to control her temper and her materialization in your world.

“That is not Eyad’s cousin. That is Jumara, my wife!” I told Sawsan.

She smiled in a way I did not understand. She looked downward to hide her tears, which I was not supposed to see, as she regained her seriousness. “Listen, Hawjan. My illness is nearly hopeless. The only way to cure me is surgery, and even if I live through that, the chances of survival are very low. On the off chance I do survive, I will most likely lose a big part of my memory, and my brain functions and maybe even my motor functions.”

“Sawsan, with Allah there is no such thing as nearly hopeless, nor chances of survival. There is only good faith. Trust me, your cure is dependent on your faith in Allah and your spirit!”

My statement released her soul from the prison of despair, turning it into certitude in her heart. She smiled and said, “I trust in Allah. But in all cases, I would never think of marriage now. I will not get married until I am cured.”

“By Allah’s will, you are going to get cured.”

“And then we will go back to chatting on the tablet? Or will you form in this world and live with us?”

“Sawsan, I must disappear from your life.”

“Hawjan!”

“My appearance caused you problems you do not need. Trust me, you must forget about me.”

Her eyes begged me. But I would not allow myself to cause her any more pain.

“Hawjan, please,” she said. “You can see me whenever you want and make sure I’m okay. How can I know you’re okay?”

“Sawsan, please get well. I will always be around you.”

“Goodbye, Hawjan!”

She said it loudly, tearing her heart and mine! She refused to let go of my hand. I pulled it slowly and stood. I left her drowning in her tears.

“Jumana, let’s go,” I said. “We’re late.”

In the car I exited Eyad’s body. None of us said a word as we drove. Each of us had our own turmoil to battle.

Suddenly Eyad jumped in his seat. “I must call Mom right now. I’m afraid Sawsan’s parents will start asking about me, and find my father’s or mother’s number and call them.”

He plugged his cell phone into its base and made a video call. He put on a cheerful voice when his mother’s image appeared. She was enjoying some quiet time on her balcony on the beach at Cannes.

“Hey, Manal, how are you?” Eyad greeted her. “Miss you, miss you, miss you!”

“Darling, I miss you like crazy. How come you haven’t called me for two weeks?”

“I’ve been through a lot. Mom… and…I have little news for you.”

“Oh dear God. What have you done this time?”

“Nothing. I just want to tell you I’ve found the one and proposed!”

“Eyad! Stop it!”

“I swear. I proposed.”

“And who proposed for you?”

“You did!”

“Eyaaaad!”

“And my cousin Jumana went to visit her parents with me, to get to know them.”

“Jumana who? Eyad, you are driving me nuts. Stop your silly jokes.”

He turned the phone toward Jumara, who greeted Eyad’s mother in the mother’s voice. “How are you, Auntie?”

Eyad’s mother was shocked. Eyad went on: “Mom, please. I found the girl of my dreams, and I had to propose.”

“Eyad, You should have waited for me to come back. The girl will still be there.”

“Trust me, Mom, she might be gone at any moment. Please, if Mrs. Raja Alabdaly calls you regarding her daughter Sawsan, don’t make a liar out of me.”

He ended the call, and we all went back to our silence.

At Eyad’s place, Jumara dematerialized and returned his mother’s clothes, and then she and I went back home. As we crossed the yard, I felt Sawsan’s tears melting her —and burning my heart. Jumara’s heart boiled in jealousy as she felt my pain.

In our room, we found an unexpected guest waiting for us. “You finally showed up. I was getting bored and was about to leave, but I thought that would be rude.”

Xanam said this as he came out of our room. With him was a short, fat, depressed-looking old lady who jumped Jumara and wrapped her arms around her waist, and pushed her ear on her belly.

Xanam said, “So, tell me the good news.”

The woman turned to him. It seemed she did not speak, she only nodded. Xanam took me in his arms and said, “Congratulations, cousin. You will become a father. And I will become an uncle. Congratulations, Jumara”

The last thing Jumara could stand was her brother’s sarcasm. She ignored him and entered our room.

Xanam looked at the old lady, asking, “So, how long before it’s born?”

She raised her fingers. Xanam addressed me this time. “Ten more weeks, Hawjan. You’ve been busy. Good boy, following through on your contract with King Hayaf, but I’m sure you enjoyed the labor.”

“King Hayaf did not abide by the contract clauses. He only sent the Jinni away. His Efreets remained circling Dr. Abdulraheem until I killed them!”

“Listen to me. King Hayaf can kill us one by one. But he is afraid of the Fayhee clan! If he causes any issues with us, he will start a war he cannot manage. That’s why he wrote that contract—so no one can say a word.”

“If he even comes close to Jumara or my son, I will kill him.”

“You really believe that? Who are you in comparison to King Hayaf? Keep a cool head, and do not risk yourself and those around you.”

I pushed him aside and followed Jumara. Xanam’s threatening words followed me: “Hawjan! Don’t you dare do anything we will all regret!”

***

Days quickly passed. Sawsan’s window never opened, and she never left the house. I didn’t see her at all. Sadness engulfed the house and its occupants. I didn’t even dare go close to her window to hear her cries or prayers. I didn’t know if she had any spirit left.

Spirit? Everything is moving toward one outcome: death. But Allah is above everything and every outcome. Finally the house doors opened and I saw her, but this couldn’t be Sawsan! She was a breathing corpse. A skeleton with thin skin and no hair. Even her eyebrows and lashes had disappeared. But she was smiling. She was comforting her parents and ignoring death, which was waving to her from the horizon as she got into the car to go get her treatment.

I immediately called Eyad. He got to the hospital before I did. I refused Jumara’s pleas to come with me, especially since her body and emotions were so weakened by her pregnancy. Eyad waited for me in his white robe, discussing Sawsan’s case with the doctors as if he were one of her relatives. An operation such as the one we were about to undertake needed a lot of preparation, so we spent two hours moving around the hospital with Sawsan. Her doctors were occupied with pre-checks, and Sawsan smiled all the while, even exchanging jokes with them. A nurse shaved what little hair remained on her head, and Sawsan smiled as she watched it fall.

She noticed Eyad as we were on our way to the operating room. She asked him. “He came with us?”

Eyad knew she was asking about me. He nodded, and that gave her comfort. I entered the operating room with her; Eyad, on the other hand, failed to get the doctors to let him in. An army surrounded Sawsan’s as she gave in to the anesthetic, causing her smile to fade. That might have been the last smile ever to appear on her beautiful face. Her energy fields faded as she closed her eyes, which she might never open again.

Six hours passed while I watched what was going on inside Sawsan’s brain. I watched the blood flow and the vapor caused by the lasers eating up her brain cells. I prayed to Allah throughout the entire operation, and finally it was done. When we came out of the OR, I found Eyad waiting right next to the door, and behind him were Sawsan’s family, who had lived through the worst six hours of their lives.

I went close to Eyad and whispered in his ear, “Quick, ask the doctors about the operation!”

“Hawjan, I got three missed calls from Jumara. I didn’t notice them. The phone was on silent.”

Jumara? What happened to her?” I left Eyad and Sawsan and flew to the house. I did not find Jumara, just signs of a struggle that could only mean King Hayaf had taken my wife and child.

Damn Hayaf. He must have been watching me all the time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to kidnap my Jumara. My preoccupation with Sawsan had been enough for him to abduct Jumara and get rid of her, and for Xanam to have my son.

(19)

Hawjan, I Will Not Forget You!

Iam Sawsan, …

Sawsan daughter of Abdulraheem Said.

My mother is Raja Maghrabi.

Allow me to tell you my story.

It started a few years ago, when I was a student in my twenties at the school of medicine. Forgive me if my story starts as sheer madness that is not even fit to be a fantasy story. Even I find it hard to believe sometimes!

Before I start, I hope you don’t consider me one of those who are infatuated by myths and legends of Jinn and Efreets. On the contrary I’m a totally logical person and a realist to the extreme; I do not deny the existence of Jinn, as Allah has mentioned them in the Holy Quran, but I am convinced that most of the chatter about Jinn is just made up for excitement and due to curiosity about everything that is strange in our world. At least that was what I believed until the events of my story started, specifically when we moved into our new home in a remote district on the outskirts of Jeddah. In areas like this, obsession with Jinn is pretty high, and every wind that moves the curtains or closes a door turns into a story about an Efreet trying to scare off the house’s occupants.

This was my belief: that Jinn had their own lives, and we had our own. Though I believed we could not communicate with them in any way, my friends convinced me to try out a game called Ouija. The idea was to chat with Jinn. At first, I thought of it as nothing more than a pastime delusion…and then I got to know him.

I got to know Hawjan.

You might consider me crazy or delusional, but I truly got to know a Jinni named Hawjan who was ninety years old! I got to know his mother, grandfather, and wife; I was convinced I was talking to him for hours every night. I would use my tablet to communicate with him. I would speak, and would feel my fingers move and type the answer.

What I did not notice was that Hawjan appeared at the same time I found out I had brain cancer. It’s amazing how many secrets a Human body holds, especially the brain. Hawjan’s symptoms were increasing as my illness was, first with strange events happening in our house, such as noises, electric disturbances, and closing doors, until everyone considered our house haunted with Jinn and Efreets. What I did not expect was that my dad, may Allah bless his soul, would be convinced of such an idea. Our house turned into a laboratory for magicians, sorcerers, and imposters claiming to scare off the Devils, and these strange events increased along with my illness. My delusions got to the point that I would see Efreets in front of me, trying to choke me and push me out of the window. I had many hysterical episodes and spasms ending me up in a coma that almost claimed my life. As the cancer got worse and chemotherapy failed, my doctors said they needed to operate on me, and my chances of success were almost nonexistent.

And then something miraculous happened. The doctors admitted best expectations were for me to survive the surgery with some permanent mental and physical disability, but I am, as you can see, just fine. In fact I am writing these lines and telling my story as my daughter plays next to me. It was Allah’s mercy above all that saved me. Above science, above brain cancer, and above chances of success. Aside from some protective medicine I take and a slight tremor every now and then in my fingers, I consider myself perfectly normal, and credit for all of this—after Allah of course—goes to the person I love the most. To the man who had stood by me in my hardest hour.

Eyad.

My husband!

I knew Eyad in my college years. He would always try to chat with me, and I would always ignore him, although he would send half of the girls at school into hysterical episodes every time they saw him pass by or smiled at one of them, or even if they noticed him driving by in his luxurious sports car. None of that impressed me, though. I saw him as, despite his wealth and how handsome he was, as fairly normal guy, and I was convinced his insistence on following me was but reaction to my ignoring him. But Eyad proved me wrong.

I forgot a huge part of my memory, especially the period where my illness was at its worst, but I remember Eyad proposed to me as I was dying. I refused him, but he stubbornly insisted. He did not leave my side for an instant during my surgery and beyond. After my surgery I was like a baby—I couldn’t talk, move, or even comprehend really what was going on. I spent one full year in an intensive rehabilitation program. Eyad would wait for me in the hospital for hours every day, until my rehabilitation was over. Then one day he re-proposed, pushing aside all the other girls his parents wanted for him, and ignoring my repeated refusal of the idea.

I could not accept a marriage of pity.

As my psychological healing was as important as my medicine, Eyad insisted I visit Dr. Emad Zaki, one of the best psychotherapists. Dr. Emad would only accept rare and difficult cases, and he took me on as a favor to Eyad’s father, who was a good friend of his. Dr. Emad was the only person who understood and accurately diagnosed my illness; he was able to untangle the mysteries and knots of my psyche and lead me back to my life before I knew I had cancer. My sessions with Dr. Emad went on for a year; I found out during that time that what I had was called catatonic schizophrenia. I had lived in a made-up world my mind had weaved. I was sure I’d connected to the world of Jinn, and that our events were entwined perfectly. I remembered my discussions with Hawjan, his questions and mine, and the information he told me about his world and other dimensions. All of that had been a movie produced and directed by my brain, and Hawjan was a character my brain made up to heal the shortcomings of my own personality—a male from another world with superpowers. I convinced myself of his existence to escape my reality as a logical, ill female.

Dr. Emad amazed me, and sometimes even scared me when he accurately extrapolated on the details of Hawjan’s case in my life. At the same time, he helped me to reinforce the weaknesses that had pushed me to invent Hawjan. I regained my self–trust and my love for life, and in less than a year, I was engaged to Eyad. I decided to dedicate my life to repaying him for everything he had done for me. Now I wake every day as if I were born again. Yes! Every day we awaken is a gift from Allah, and we must make the most of each moment to make those around us happy, and in turn be happy ourselves. A Human does not need to face death to feel Allah’s greatest gift to him—the gift of life! I thank Allah for my life. For every moment, for Eyad, and for my daughter, Jumana!

Eyad insisted on calling her that. I respected his choice as well as his refusal to tell me the secret behind it. Jumana might have been a girl who had previously held a special place in his life, but I don’t care about that. What is important is that Allah has given me a new, happy life. Because of Him, and because of Eyad who gave me his life so I would not lose mine, and because of Dr. Emad, who sent Eyad a message every week to check up on me and Jumana. And I would never forget who I had escaped from reality with when I could no longer bear the pain. Although he was a figment of my imagination, I will never forget my imaginary friend.

I will never forget you, Hawjan!

(20)

Goodbye, Sawsan

Moments of death, I thought, were the hardest moments of life. But today I found out that there are moments when we wish death would have claimed us first. Moments where the pain in our hearts is much worse than death itself.

Today I left Sawsan in limbo between life and death only to be shocked by the loss of Jumara and my son. I dashed to Malaj, certain I would never come back. Crowds gathered in the main town square, around the royal podium where Hayaf sat on the throne. On his left was the representative of The Damned, and in front was an infant on an altar. This was the first time I saw my son. He was in the hands of a priest who prepared to slaughter him as a sacrifice for The Damned! In such moments one does not need to analyze or think. I moved closer to the podium like a madman as Hayaf recited talismans, all eyes were watching him, the guards did not notice me pushing through the crowds, and suddenly I was in front of the priest, who was shocked to see me in his face.

However, that lasted for only a fraction of a second as I pressed the knife he held over my son’s neck to his own. I didn’t give him the chance to realize he had been slaughtered on his own altar. Then, I reached out to pick up my son, who was covered in the priest’s blood. But my movement was restrained before I could get to him, by an army of guards who had piled on top of me and held me to the ground, I saw King Hayaf’s feet moving slowly toward my head , which was flat on the ground:

“Forgive me, Hawjan,” he said. “I had to cut Jumara’s belly open to take the boy. You know I cannot wait.”

A head fell in front of my face—Xanam’s head!

“Unfortunately I had to kill him,” King Hayaf went on. “He was acting as if he wanted to protect his sister, can you believe that? But on a more serious note, your wife is truly beautiful. Even as we were cutting her open she was so amazing! But I did not want to take you away from your Human girl and bring you here to see your son slaughtered in front of you. My manners do not allow me such cruelty. I just wanted to please Lucifer and ensure he hands the kingdom to my bloodline after I drink the blood of your Fayhee boy, which you have agreed to hand over to me. But since you have insisted on joining us, I guess we’ll drink even more Fayhee blood today.”

That was King Hayaf’s biggest mistake—to dare to mention Jumara! He had just issued his own death sentence. The world around me turned, and I was able to lift the pile of Marids off my back for an instant, and then…I moved to your world! And I pulled a bunch of them with me. I felt myself falling from the sky to slam into the angry waves in the heart of the Red Sea, as did the Marids around me. I battled the waves and heard their screams; they did not understand the fact that they had moved to the physical world only to drown in its depths.

Now I had to return and save my son. I felt a slimy arm wrap around my neck, and others around my arm, my waist, and my chest, all squeezing me with enormous force. I felt my ribs about to snap, and sharp teeth sunk into my neck and shoulder. It was King Hayaf. He had decided to get rid of me in the physical world, so he formed as a strange creature with multiple arms and sharp fangs I could not escape. I tried to get back to our world, but I suffocated and felt death creeping in.

Then I remembered my son, and the moment of death fled. I screamed despite my breathless lungs and my shattered ribs, and the water that was now filling my chest. He tried to shut my mouth with one of his arms, but my scream had already came out and brought me back to my world! I fell like a rock next to the podium, and next to me was King Hayaf. But the podium we had left for only a few moments had turned into a battlefield. The other mistake King Hayaf had committed was taunting that Fayhee clan!

The blood he had promised to drink boiled. The Fayhhees attacked the guards, and the mobs that could not bear Hayaf’s injustice attacked them. It was an unbalanced battle. The Fayhee clan had courage and numbers, and King Hayaf found himself at the feet of those whose ultimate wish was to step all over him and rid themselves of his rule. I did not care much for King Hayaf, I did not care for the blood that flowed from my neck and shoulder, nor did I care about the unbearable pain in my ribs. All I cared about was getting to my son. One of my uncles had him in his arms. I took the boy and held him in my arms for the first time in my life, and then the world just went dark. I blacked out.

***

Allah’s grace has no limits. In the midst of despair and tragedies, our limited minds forget the grace and reach of Allah. And when our demise strikes, he engulfs us with mercy, shaming us for despairing. I woke up the next day lying in one of my uncles’ houses, where they tended to my wounds. I looked around and found my son—one of my uncles’ wives carried him. I looked to my other side and saw Jumara lying there. Seeing her brought back life to my body, and I moved toward her despite my pain. I needed to know if it was her or her body; she was as pale as the dead, and her blood was dry. I felt her forehead and whispered so low even I could not hear myself:

“Jumara… Jumara… It’s me, Hawjan.”

She opened her heavy eyes. She tried to come into my arms, but her wounds and pain were too severe. She could only move her lips.

“Hawjan… My love, Hawjan… What took you so long?”

My voice could not respond, but my tears did. I held her hand to my chest.

“Hawjan, how is Sawsan?” she asked.

I nodded. At that moment I did not care for anything but Jumara and my son. My uncle’s wife noticed me and came over with a smile. I held my son with one arm and helped Jumara up with the other so he could enjoy his mother’s hug for the first time. When she knew our son was okay, Jumara smiled as if her spirit had returned to her.

“Meehal looks like you, Hawjan!”

“You mean Elyaseen.”

No one had expected me to name my son after my Nafar grandfather rather than my father.

“Elyaseen?” Jumara asked.

“My grandfather’s name, may Allah bless his soul. If my father were alive, he would not have named him anything else.”

After the death of King Hayaf and the mutilation of his body, the citizens of Malaj had agreed to form a ruling authority under the leadership of the head of the tribes, led by my uncle. Although he was really busy, he checked up on us every day and tried so many times to convince me to stay in Malaj—the same efforts the Yatmah chief had tried when we’d gone to visit Mother so she could see her grandson. I decided to take my mother, wife, and son to live as far away from you Humans as we could, and far from the Devils of Malaj and the extremists of Yatmah. We went to live in Hindabah, where citizens lived under the principles of freedom and justice and let go of all racism.

I got a bit too occupied with my family to check up on Sawsan. However, after my affairs had settled, I want to see her. My heart bled for her; after her surgery, she had lost her memory, her brain function, and her hope to get back to her normal life. She was a lost child with nothing but her trust in Allah’s mercy.

Eyad was with her moment by moment. I too attended her therapy sessions, which helped her regain her bodily and mental abilities, but her psyche was still shattered. She started to remember me and mention me; she asked Eyad about me several times, but I warned him to deny my existence. Sawsan had to forget everything about me so she could live her normal life and dedicate all of her emotions to Eyad. However, he had a plan: he used his medical degree and some of his father’s money to open a psychiatric clinic, and chose a doctor with knowledge of Sawsan’s case—me!

It took me a while to perfect forming in your world. Jumara taught me, and I would form as the psychiatrist Emad Zaki. Jumara would form as my nurse; she insisted on doing this out of curiosity, or maybe jealousy I suppose. My knowledge of everything that had happened to Sawsan made it easy for me to convince her that Hawjan had been a figment of her imagination—an imaginary friend. She was not easily convinced; we spent one full year reigniting her spirit and self-trust, and trying to erase my memory from her heart. And it worked!

I would suffer and barely control my tears during our sessions, and lose control after them. I almost exposed myself more than once; I almost admitted my existence and love for her. But that love prohibited me from returning to her life after it had gone back to normal. She and Eyad invited Jumara and me, as Dr. Emad Zaki and his nurse, to their wedding, and a year later they invited us to celebrate their firstborn, whom Eyad insisted on naming Jumana even though it almost exposed us.

As time went on, I would watch Sawsan whenever I got a chance. I would visit Dr. Abdulraheem’s house, may Allah bless his soul, every Friday when she and Eyad would go to visit Mrs. Raja. Sometimes I would take Elyaseen with me. Jumana would sometimes see us and play with him, and I would always remind Eyad to take care of Sawsan. Sometimes I would send him messages from the cell phone that I still carried, and when Sawsan asked, he said they were from Dr. E Z.

The years passed by quickly. Before I knew it, Elyaseen was four and Jumana was two. These simple years of my life were filled with more events than the ninety years before them, and I still wonder why I wrote them for you. Whatever the reason, I thank you for every word you have read and every emotion you have shared with me. I might be next to you right now as you read, and I might watch your kids and grandkids read this book as well. How terrifying a thought that is to me! The thought that I age so slowly, and Sawsan ages so fast. In just a few short years, Jumana will grow up and get married. Sawsan will have grandkids and…

All that is important is that she is safe now.

And that your idea about us Jinn has changed.

And for me to put my story in your hands.

My story with Sawsan, the Human.

- The End –

From our next novel: Hunaak! (Somewhere!)

Hours passed as we sang and played music. I remembered most of the songs I had heard in my life, from the songs of Um Kalthoom to cartoon themes. Carlos Santana would be emotionally distressed and retire if he heard me playing his song on the guitar! I could not dare ask Beethoven to teach me how to play the guitar, if I did, I think he probably would have smashed it over my head.

I deeply enjoyed my time with Layan and her sisters until Malak suddenly crashed our party. She stood right in front of me with her arms crossed, and her beauty turned into jealousy and anger. I didn’t notice her at first, as I was immersed in my singing and playing. Then Layan got nervous, and Layana’s face turned yellow, and Leen stiffened. I raised my head toward Malak.

She said: “学习中国人吗？太棒了!”

Of course I did not understand what she was babbling. I did, however, realize it was an angry statement in Mandarin, which I was supposed to be learning instead of wasting my time with Layan and her sisters. I implicitly felt pain in my ear, and even though Malak had not grabbed me by it, I felt myself pulled toward the elevator. The Nymphs held their laughter as I moved like a child who was about to be harshly reprimanded.

“So, Your Excellency, you are not doing your work and are trying to impress the girls?” Malak asked. She was so angry as she took me back to my room.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “Just give me an hour and I’ll learn Mandarin—and Martian too!”

“Luckily for you, Mr. Bruce speaks English.”

“I told you from the start there’s no need for all of this fuss. Let’s just make do with English or a translation device.”

“And I told you there is nothing better than communicating with someone in his own language!”

She disappeared into the dressing room and returned with a yellow sport suit with two black stripes on the sleeves.

“I remember!” I yelled

“You remember Mr. Bruce?”

“No! I remember I’m a hardcore Ittihadi fan! How did you know I’m an Ittihadi?”

Her jealousy was still on fire, and I didn’t blame her. Honestly there’s a unique pleasure in igniting a girl’s jealousy, though I should’ve behaved myself even when I was thinking, as she could read my thoughts.

She threw the suit at my face. “You have three minutes to change your clothes while I bring the car around. If you’re late I’ll go without you.”

She said it in a clear, demanding voice that didn’t in any way go along with her soft, feminine look. But she was still luscious even at the peak of her