by K. J. Emrick
“The trick to Turkish coffee,” Harry says, oblivious to my existential crisis over here, “is two-fold. First, you must freshly grind the beans. This I have done already, naturally. Second, you must watch it constantly so that it does not boil. If that happens then it will scald and you will lose all flavor. This is the mistake most amateurs make. Never let the coffee boil. It takes longer to brew this way, but as a result it brings out more of the flavor… ah. Then there is the froth.”
He lifted the pan off the stove and poured a cup for me very slowly. When he was done, there was a layer of foam on top of the brew.
“How’d you do that?” I ask him. “Is that a genie thing?”
That joyous laugh of his filled my apartment. “No, no. This is the result of care and attention to detail. Something I have observed most men lack.”
“I can’t argue that one.”
It smelled more delicious than I remember coffee ever smelling. Even from those Great Lakes coffee houses, which was saying a lot considering they’re always being voted number one in Detroit for coffee. This was waking up done right.
When I reached for the cup, however, Harry waved my hands away.
“No, no. You must let it sit for a moment. The grinds will settle to the bottom that way.”
“There’s grinds… in my coffee?”
He laughs again, but in a good natured, look-at-the-ignorant-American kind of way. “Yes, yes. You are used to those cups of coffee with the plastic lids. That is flavored water. This is true coffee, and true coffee is brewed with the grinds, not filtered through them. Let them settle to the bottom. In ancient times people would read your fortune based on the pattern they make left behind and sitting at the bottom of your cup when you are finished drinking. I’ll read yours after, if you like.”
“Uh, no. Thanks, but I’d rather let my future be a surprise…”
My future.
Huh.
I just thought of something, and I’m guessing that it hadn’t occurred to me before only because my head’s still spinning from all of this. When Harry went to slap my hands away from the cup, just now, I didn’t see it coming. In fact, ever since he showed up here in my kitchen last night, I haven’t been able to see anything he’s about to do. It’s like my whole future-sense ability doesn’t work with him.
That’s never happened before.
“Uh, Harry. Do me a favor? Say the first number that comes to your mind.”
His one eyebrow slants up. “Any number at all?”
“Yeah. Just, whatever number. Say, between zero and ten.” I used to do this trick with my nieces. I knew what number they would say, three seconds before they said it, so I could always say it before they did. This little parlor trick used to keep them in stitches for hours. “Just whatever number you’re thinking of. Ready? Go.”
I concentrated, listening for the future to tell me what he was going to say.
…
Nothing.
…
Still nothing.
…
Times up.
“Five!” he shouts with that unusual surplus of joy he puts into everything he’s doing. “Did I guess correctly, Sidney Stone?”
“No. I mean… no, I’m supposed to guess. Only… I didn’t know what you were going to say. I didn’t know.”
That was a little unsettling to me. All my life I’ve known what was coming just a fraction of a moment before it did. Now, with Harry, it was like I was a normal person. Someone without some weird ability that kept her isolated from everyone all through puberty. With Harry, I couldn’t see the future unfolding around him. At least, not anything to do with him. Whoa. Just… whoa. Was this what it was like being normal?
I kinda liked it.
“My lady, are you all right?”
“It’s nothing,” I say to him with an honest smile. I don’t talk about this with people, and Harry’s not even really people. He’s a genie. So instead I put my hands around the mug and bring it up to breathe the aroma in more deeply. “I was expecting something to happen, but it’s fine. Really. I guess it’s because you’re a genie.”
“Ah. Yes, we are a lot to take in. We do amazing things all the time. Like, make coffee.”
He laughs again, and this time I got the sense he was laughing at himself. He was such a happy guy, it was impossible not to enjoy being around him. And, yeah. I found myself starting to like him.
“Mmm,” I murmur after a long sip of the drink in my hands. It was sweet and citrussy, with hints of lemon laced through the cinnamon. “This really is great. And the froth is awesome. I was expecting it to be like cappuccino, but this is different. Better.”
“Exactly! You will never drink that weak dirty water you used to call coffee ever again. Not while you are here, in your apartment. Outside on the streets… well, I am afraid I can’t help you there. I am tied to the rug, and the rug is here. Oh! Unless you would like to wish for every cup of coffee for the rest of your life to be transformed into my special Turkish coffee? Hmm? All you have to do is say the words, and your wish shall be my command.”
“Wow. You could do that?”
“Of course. Is that your wish?”
“Wait, how come I have to wish for it?” I had to say that the thought of this replacing anything I could order from Starbucks was truly enticing, but I was confused. “Can’t you just come along with me and hand me a fresh cup whenever I’m thirsty?”
Those puffy pillow lips of his pucker into a frown. “No, I’m afraid that isn’t how it works. For one thing, that would be circumventing one of your wishes. I’m happy to make you this coffee when I can, since you are my master, but to do it all the time would require a wish from you. For another thing… I am bound to my rug. I can not go very far away from it. Where the rug stays, so do I. It is a lonely, sad existence.” He sighs, and his whole body slumps with it. Then just like that his smile is back. “But, my lonely existence is made better by serving my master as she tries to solve mysteries, save people’s lives, stop crimes, and so forth. So. If you want this to be the only coffee you ever drink again for your whole life, just speak the wish, oh Lady Master!”
I thought about all of that. He was bound to the rug, which meant he could never leave my apartment. Bummer. I was kind of looking forward to having him poof in and out of my day whenever I needed him. That was kind of a let down. I suppose it was worse for him, though. He couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t even go to the movies. Thank God I had a television for him to watch.
As far as the coffee thing…
I took another sip, and then regretfully I shake my head. “No, thanks. I really like this coffee but I don’t want to waste one of my three wishes on a beverage choice. I’ll just have to wait to come home to enjoy this. I don’t suppose you cook, too?”
“Two wishes,” he says, which didn’t really seem to answer my question.
“What? What do you mean, two wishes? We went over this last night, didn’t we Harry? If I remember the whole conversation you said you would give me three wishes for each case I was working on. Three, not two. That’s what you said.”
“So I did, and so I shall, but you have already used up one of your three this time, my lady.”
“Harry, what are you—”
But then I remembered.
I tell you what I’m wishing for right now, the words of my off-hand comment came back to me… A good night’s sleep.
Pushing myself out of my chair I stand up and slam my hands down on top of the kitchen table, glaring up at him. “You can’t take that as one of my wishes! I was just thinking out loud! That’s not what I meant!”
“Ah, but there’s one more rule you must know about.”
“And what would that be?”
“No takebacks.”
“Harry!”
His hands raise up defensively, and as amusing as it is to see this genie act like he’s threatened by five-foot-seven tall me, I was not in the mood for any car salesman doubletalk. This was
not fair!
“You spoke the words,” he says, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. “If you wish for something, I grant the wish, just as I told you last night. That’s what I do, Sidney Stone. You spoke the words.”
Doubletalk or not, he had me there. I had literally said that I wished for a good night’s rest, and he’d given me the best sleep I could remember having in forever. So… wish granted, I guess. No takebacks, no do-overs, and maybe I should think before I speak.
Besides. How was I going to argue with a supernatural being who could make coffee like this?
Dropping myself back in my seat, I grab up the ceramic mug and guzzle down half the cup at once. Damn, but it was good. At the same time, I’m glad I didn’t use up another wish on a lifetime’s supply of it. Then I’d be down to just one wish to actually use on the case. I was really going to have to watch what I said from now on. With all his rules and quid pro quos, I was going to have to choose each of my wishes very carefully. No more off-the-cuff remarks for this girl.
Besides, there was that other rule about not being selfish when I wished for something. Great coffee, just for me, every day? That might just be the definition of selfish. Kind of makes me wonder if Harry here is testing me.
Well, I ain’t falling for it.
“All right,” I sigh, knowing there’s nothing I can do about it anyway. “No, I don’t want this to be my only coffee all the time. And… thanks for last night, I guess.”
Smiling once more, he gives me one of those deep bows of his. “You are welcome, my lady. Now that you are rested, and my coffee has kicked your brain into gear, as they say, let us turn to this case you are working on. What do we need to do today? We must find Katarina Borishev, yes? What do we do first?”
That was a good question. I had a plan, of sorts. There were lots of little pieces, and I needed to figure out how they fit together. “First thing is getting that phone from Barlow. The one Katarina was using to text with this friend of hers. Carol. I’m expecting him to bring it over this morning.”
“Excellent, excellent,” he says, giving his approval. “I’m not very good with modern technology, I have to admit. Back in my day we used camels or horse-mounted riders to get messages across long distances. Your cellphones seem like magic to this genie.”
Holding the cup in my hands, I swirled the last of the coffee inside in lazy circles. “Back in your day, huh? What does that mean for a genie?”
“Well, for some of us… the beginning of time, essentially.” With a chuckle he folds himself into the chair across from me. It creaks under his weight. “For others, such as myself, we’ve been around for much less time.”
“Really? How does that work? Do you have like, a genie mother and father?”
His heavy arms fold themselves on the table as he laughs and laughs. “No, no. Not at all! Genies are magical beings. Which means, among other things, that magic can create more of us. That’s how it was with me. I was born human, to a wonderful human mother, back in the time of Sarru-Kan. That would be 2300 BC, in your terms.”
The coffee cup nearly slips out of my hands. “Seriously? You were around that long ago?”
He laughs some more, in that carefree way that I was beginning to really enjoy. “I don’t look a day over two thousand, do I? Ha! Yes, I was alive that long ago. I made my living as a civil guard, protecting my town of Uruk from bandits and thieves and foreign invaders. I was respected for my fair hand, and my desire to see justice done.”
“Didn’t you say your name meant ‘guard’ or ‘protector’ in your native language?”
“Yes. Exactly.” He looks pleased that I remembered what he told me about himself. “Harris is a very old word that described my profession. I was a guardian. I was Harris. It is what people called me when they needed help. Over the centuries of time I have forgotten my birth name, but no matter. I remain Harris.”
I got it now. “Okay, but how did you become a genie?”
“Magic, as I said! I found a den of thieves once, and they had stolen many treasures. I returned all that I could to the rightful owners but there was one item I could not identify. A small copper blade. It was a true work of art. One I coveted as my own. So, when no one claimed it from me, I took it home. That night, I polished it to a gleam brighter than the sun and as I rubbed the oil in… poof!”
“Out came the genie of the knife?” I guess.
“Yes. She offered to help me with my job as guardian and protector, under the same rules that I have laid out for you. At first, it was a perfect partnership. With her help I was able to catch one of the worst thieves, a man who had plagued my village and many others for years. I was doing great things, and my reputation steadily grew. I began to wonder, if I had the sort of power the genie had, how much more could I do? If I could just grant myself the wishes of my heart, what great things could I accomplish all by myself?”
“Oh, no! Tell me you didn’t…?”
“But I did, Sidney Stone. I did, indeed! I said, genie, I wish for you to give me your powers!”
Yeah. I had a feeling that I knew what happened next. “And she granted your wish, and now you’re a genie.”
He sighs heavily through his flared nostrils. “Exactly so. That carpet was the one from my home, back then. I’d say it’s in good condition, considering its age. Ha! Just like me!”
His laughter booms out again, and just like that he’s his usually happy self. I was glad that he’d made his peace with what had happened to him. I’m not sure I could, but then again, he’d had literally centuries to get used to the idea, and he was still doing the work he loved most, sort of. Helping people. Just like me.
“Thank you for sharing that with me, Harris.”
He blinks. His expression is unreadable. “My masters don’t usually thank me.”
“Really? Then you must have had some really crappy masters.”
The one corner of his lips twist up in a sneer. “You have no idea, my lady.”
“You know, you don’t have to call me that. I’m not royalty, or anything.”
“You could be,” he offers just a little too quickly. “Would you like to be a princess? Just say the words…”
He holds his hand up, fingers ready to snap.
Uh-uh. I know that game. “You testing me again, Harry?”
With a breathy chuckle he drops his hand and claps out a short round of applause for me instead. “Very good, Sidney Stone. I knew you were something special the moment you pulled out my carpet. Just be forewarned.” His face grows darker as I watch, as if shadows were passing over him here inside my apartment. “The tests are not always that obvious.”
A shiver runs through me in spite of the warm coffee. I gulp the rest of it down, reminding myself over and over to be careful what I wish for.
For now I wasn’t going to worry about it, because I consider myself a pretty level-headed girl. I don’t want to be a princess and as much as I’m loving this coffee, I know that having too much of a good thing takes all the fun out of it. Besides. I had a case to worry about.
“The other thing I need to do today,” I say, completely changing the subject, “is find a Facebook friend of Katarina’s. A woman by the name of Louise Timmins.”
“Ah. Is she important?”
“I don’t know for sure yet, but I’m hopeful that she is. After all, optimism is my middle name.”
He gives me a squinty-eyed look. “No, it’s not.”
“No, it’s not,” I agree with a chuckle. “But today, it might as well be. I’m going to need all the positive thinking I can get. There has to be some sort of connection between them, if someone like Katarina friended someone like Louise online. One is a young, attractive immigrant, and the other is a middle-aged nurse. I doubt those two moved in the same circles. When I speak to Louise later today, hopefully I’ll find out what that is.”
Harry rubs at his chin. “Hmm. So, two friends of Katarina’s to track down and speak to. That sounds promising. Any other clues?”
“Not so far. I can’t even trace the money she took because she withdrew it in cash. I know she hasn’t left the country yet, unless she drove, but for now I’m going to assume she’s still in Detroit somewhere, hiding out for some reason.”
“I see, I see. You don’t know much yet, but it has only been one day. The investigation is still young and now, you have me to help. Tell me what I can do to be of service, my lady, and I will do it without delay. What can I do to help?”
“Well, for starters you can—”
Someone’s knocking.
That thought flashed through my head just before the rap on the door.
Knock, knock. Knock, knock.
I’d been talking to Harry for so long without any sense at all about what he was going to say or do that feeling that little three-second flash actually startled me. To tell the truth, it was almost a relief. I wasn’t going to have to go through life being normal, after all. I was still a freak who saw the bullet coming just before it hit me and knew all the answers to Jeopardy because I knew what the contestants were about to say. I like me this way. Might be hard on my social life, but I don’t want to give it up. It’s part of what makes me… me.
I stood up to get the door but then gave Harris an uncertain glance. I had a genie in my kitchen who was about to be seen if I didn’t do something. I wasn’t ready to make that sort of explanation to anyone.
What could he do to help?
“For starters you can hide!” I tell him, thinking maybe if he went into my bathroom… but no, because if whoever this was asked to use the restroom then I’d be stuck making excuses why they couldn’t. No way was he going in my bedroom because that was even weirder, and that was pretty much all there was to my apartment here so what in the hell was I going to do?
With a wink, he snaps his fingers, and just like that he’s nothing but a haze of smoke that settles down into his rug, leaving behind only the scent of flowers.
Oh. Right. I forgot he can do that.
I went to the door, casting nervous glances over my shoulder the whole way to make sure he wasn’t going to just reappear. Whoever’s at the door knocks again. I have a peephole, but I haven’t ever had to use it once. Before I’m about to look, my future-sense tells me what I’m going to see.
