Bottled

by Carol Riggs

  As best I can, I weave a tapestry of truth blended with lies. How Faruq drove me to the run-down house. How I discovered his evil intentions and listened to his offer to join him in drinking the victims’ blood as a magical, life-extending elixir. How I begged him to reconsider. His refusal, even after Karim arrived and added his pleas.

  At this juncture in my tale, Karim looks pained. I take a deep breath and describe how Karim helped carry the slain woman outside so I could sneak in and free David and Ted. “When Faruq discovered what I’d done, he attacked me with a knife. Karim tried to stop him, and that’s when his father sliced his chest.”

  My voice softens when I say the final line. Yes, Karim protected me for the second time in his life, at great risk to himself. He could end up with a scar on his chest to match the one on his forearm. We exchange faint smiles.

  After I answer a few more questions, the policeman switches off his recording device and stands. He nods and says something that I assume are words of thanks, and leaves the room.

  The remaining silence grows large between Karim and me. I pick at the seam on my jeans.

  “Adeelah,” he says at last. “You must believe me that I still love you. During all these centuries I’ve always resumed hunting for you. A thousand years is a long time to keep up a search like that.”

  I curl one hand around the other, missing the rings I used to twist. He has no idea how long a thousand years can be. He should try spending most of it in a one-room bottle, fulfilling wishes while chained by a monstrous spell to greedy humans. While I was drawing his face on scraps of parchment, he’d been holding other girls in his arms, kissing them, becoming a father to their babies, and sleeping curved against them at night.

  “It sounds like you loved a few other girls besides me,” I say. “Especially Nadine. And you were obviously intimate with the ones you had children with.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” he says, his face earnest. “Don’t you see? I’d been searching so long, I admit I abandoned hope a few times. Surely you can’t fault me for a little happiness in my life during those years. What matters is us. Now.”

  A storm of emotion churns inside me. I fight to contain it, not wanting to lose control. I can see his reasoning somewhat. It makes logical sense. There were points when I was bottled that I was close to giving up hope. If Karim had been imprisoned in my place and I’d been free for a thousand years, immortal and perpetually young, would I have been tempted by someone else?

  It’s possible. As a genie, I didn’t ever let myself warm up to anyone, except perhaps Nathan. Even then, I struggled against that attraction so I could stay true to Karim. Yet if someone like Nathan had been around me when my resolve was faltering and my hope was low, I might’ve let myself fall in love with him after a while. I could’ve been tempted to spend forty or fifty years of my immortal life with him.

  Perhaps I shouldn’t be so hasty in condemning Karim.

  My tangled emotions writhe. Nathan. Oh, boundless stars. I need to know what he’s doing, what he’s thinking…but that could be pointless. Our paths lie elsewhere. If he ends up with Cherie, I can’t let my thoughts dwell on him. I need to make my decision about Karim apart from what Nathan does or thinks.

  I rise. “What’s done is in the past. I’m upset, I admit. I haven’t made up my mind what to do, but I understand why you did those things.”

  A flicker of hope brightens Karim’s face. His deep brown eyes search mine. “I’m sure it was a shock to learn of those other women. Father had no business revealing them. He just wanted to ruin our love, to have his petty revenge.” He swallows with an effort. “It’s not how I would’ve told you about my past.”

  I give a tight smile. Would he have ever told me? I doubt it. He wouldn’t have jeopardized our relationship if he didn’t have to. Which isn’t a notion that settles well in my gut. His lack of honesty might be the larger issue here, more so than his past lovers.

  I’ve reached my capacity for discussing this at the moment. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see if I can find out how Nathan’s little brother and Ted are doing.”

  “I’ll go with you to translate.”

  I hesitate, although I don’t have much choice if I want others to understand me. It’s as if part of my mind has been wiped out. Now that I’m finally human like everyone around me, I couldn’t be more alienated and different. With a sigh, I follow Karim down the hall to a desk where a male nurse sits. I wait while Karim speaks to him in English.

  Karim faces me. “We can’t see them until tomorrow. Only family can see them today. They’ll both make it, though, and they’ll feel more normal once that herbal sedative Father gave them is out of their system.”

  Which is better off than dead, but it doesn’t make the news any easier to take. I should’ve been able to prevent this. Somehow. The timing for losing my powers couldn’t have been worse. I glance around as if Nathan and his family will suddenly appear nearby, but I’m not sure where David’s room is located. Will Nathan’s mother be angry with me because the people I’m associated with put her son in danger?

  Karim places a tentative hand on my back. “There’s nothing more we can do here. I’ve already been given antibiotics and released. Shall we go find a motel to stay in and come back tomorrow? We can’t leave the country until things are settled with the police, anyway.”

  I drop my gaze to my shoes. “I’m still deciding how I feel about our relationship.”

  The air around us goes taut, awkward.

  After a brief pause, Karim makes an impatient noise. “I can get separate rooms if that’s the problem. I’ll allow you privacy. You can’t stay here in the hospital all night.”

  “I don’t see why not.” I need time away from him. To think. To heal.

  “It’s not comfortable and there aren’t any showers, for two good reasons. Not to mention no one understands you. Confound it, my love, are you going to be angry at me forever?”

  His wounded tone should make me relent, but instead, it stirs the mass of emotions I’ve pushed away to process for later. A few stray threads rise to the surface. “Don’t overreact,” I say, my tone sharper than I intend. “It hasn’t been much more than half a day. I need some time to adjust to you being with those other…to your father’s news. And I need to sort out how I feel about your dishonesty.”

  He mutters a few swear words directed at his father, and removes his hand from my back. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning around eight, then.”

  With his steps brisk, he walks down the hall, his arms swinging in choppy motions. There he goes. The love of my life for the last thousand years. Handsome as a dark angel, his wavy hair looking as soft as silk. The affection and anguish I saw in his eyes should melt away my misgivings in an instant. He wants to be with me. He risked sharp blades for me. Twice. He’s courageous, intelligent, and strong of will.

  Karim has defined me for the past thousand years. If I don’t have him in my life, what do I have?

  He walks around a corner and vanishes from my sight. Despite everything, I still love him. We belong together. My emotions simply haven’t caught up with the recent whirlwind change of events.

  Yes, that’s it. I just need more time.

  Chapter 25

  I wander down the pale halls of the hospital, passing nurses and sober-faced visitors, unsure what to do next. My stomach rumbles in a disconcerting way. It hasn’t felt this hollow in a long time. At last I realize I’m hungry and that I ought to feed myself. It’s late afternoon. Many long hours have passed since I’ve become human again.

  Now, I must eat to survive.

  I catch a whiff of something cooking, and follow the aroma. I’m uncertain how much food I can buy with the money Mrs. Turner gave me, but at least I have those paper bills folded in my jeans pocket. As I come to a branch in the hallway, a trio of people walk toward me. The first person I recognize is Cherie with her soft blond hair, then Nathan’s mother. The one trailing behind them is Na
than.

  My knees lose their strength, and I come to a halt.

  “Adeelah!” Mrs. Turner cries when she sees me, and moves forward. Her fingers wrap around my hands, warm and strong. Wonder of wonders, I’m completely human and solid. She says something else, a question, judging from the upward inflection at the end. Cherie steps up, sweet concern written across her face. She touches one edge of my arm bandage with a light finger.

  I look past her to Nathan. My breathing goes erratic. He’s staring at his mother’s hands enclosing mine, and his mouth is open. He blinks a few times in rapid succession and lifts his head to meet my gaze. He says something to me, the words halting, jumbled syllables mixed with quick exclamations. He sounds short of breath.

  My mind swirls. There’s nothing I can say in my language that he’ll understand. I’d like to tell him everything that’s happened since I talked to him on Beagley’s phone. I want to explain that I didn’t have any control over whether David was abducted. Or Ted. I’d like to say I’m sorry his family got entangled with the mess that was my genie life, and I want to tell him that I’m so glad he’s safe. How I’m different now. Free from servitude.

  The storm of my suppressed emotions surges, and I tremble as it washes over me. For some reason, it’s even more difficult to contain in Nathan’s presence. I withdraw my hands from Mrs. Turner’s and take a step back. Their words swirl around me like gnats. I need Karim here to translate. How I wish he hadn’t left the hospital.

  It’s my fault. I wished for him to go.

  I shrug and point to my forehead. “I can only speak my native language,” I say, hoping they’ll understand.

  After a few off-kilter seconds, a light sparks in Cherie’s eyes. She speaks to Nathan and his mother. Their expressions shift from puzzlement to dubious comprehension. I hope they’re coming to the same conclusion as the story Karim told the policeman, that I’ve temporarily lost my memory due to the shock of what’s happened. It’s a thin explanation, but it’s all I have to offer. I’m sure Nathan suspects the real reason why.

  While Cherie and Mrs. Turner murmur to each other, Nathan steps over to stand by me. He looks down into my face. His eyes are kind and wonderful and worried. And yet a peculiar elation shines behind them. He seems happy to see me, even though Cherie accompanies him through the halls. I wonder if he knows I helped save David’s life. Yes, David may have told him. I’m probably seeing his reaction to that.

  He reaches toward me, hesitates for a moment, and lets his hand come to rest on my shoulder. A light touch at first, followed by a more firm caress. A warm tingle ripples over my skin. It’s a solid caress, with no sinking or indentation. When his hand slides away, a profound question looms in his eyes.

  How?

  More than anything, I’d like to explain. Perhaps I can try without using words.

  I take a deep breath. This is meant for Nathan’s eyes, but maybe his mother and Cherie won’t understand what I’m describing. I trace the shape of my bottle in the air, and pantomime devil horns on both sides of my head. Nathan gives a wry laugh. He knows exactly to whom I’m referring.

  With one hand draped across my forehead I indicate fatigue, which in truth isn’t much of an effort. I repeat the shape of my bottle, grasp it by its invisible neck, and jerk it to one side. My fingers splay to mimic the shattering of glass. I make a loud noise for the explosion. Then I add the devil horns and stabbing motions while I dodge an invisible blade. I touch my bandage, wincing, and my story is over.

  Cherie and Mrs. Turner frown, while Nathan nods. He raises questioning eyebrows, and mimes the wide-armed, subservient bow I displayed at the end of my “you-are-my-master” spiel.

  I rotate my palms upward to indicate I’m unshackled. I point to him and myself, to show I’m human like him.

  An incredulous smile breaks across Nathan’s face. It’s brilliant, almost delirious. He scoops one arm around my waist and pulls me into a giant, squeezing hug. His other arm wraps around my shoulders. I gasp. After living ten centuries devoid of embraces, his arms feel secure, affectionate, and more than just good. A few tears leak from my eyes as he sways with me, rocking back and forth.

  I take a shuddering breath and slide my arms around him. He’s firm under my hands, and he smells like earth and soap and mint. It feels so right that he’s the first person I’m embracing after a thousand years. Not Karim.

  Ah, Karim. Those lovers of his. Not to mention the lives he allowed his father to destroy in order to make the elixir. His appalling dishonesty. Karim has disappointed me in a huge way. If I leave him and turn my back on everything I’ve toiled for in the past millennium, I’ll be stranded in this new world of perplexing laws, mysterious devices, and vehicles with shocking speed. A world I can’t communicate well in.

  A swell inside me breaks the dam of my control. My tears spill out, too much for me to suppress. Nathan continues to hold me. I’m unable to stop sobbing, even though I’m well aware of his mother and Cherie standing next to us. Watching me fall apart.

  Nathan murmurs words I can’t comprehend, but his tone is comforting. I weep for the loss of Karim’s loyalty. I mourn the love I thought I had, and the humiliation of having to hear the sting of truth from Faruq. A thousand plagues on Karim! I’d like to slap his handsome aristocratic face. I hate that he strayed from me and then lied about it.

  Will I ever be able to forgive him? Or will my feelings of betrayal fade in time?

  When my outburst subsides, Mrs. Turner hands me a tissue from her purse. Cherie wipes tears from her own eyes. I’m not sure why, but I’m too weary and spent to care.

  Nathan presses a kiss onto my forehead. His lips are soft and caring. The tender gesture nearly sends me into another breakdown. I slip from his arms and blow my nose on the tissue.

  His mother makes a motion of eating, looking at me with a question in her eyes. I nod. My stomach is queasy from crying, but I need to eat something before I collapse. I retrieve my money from my pocket and hold it out. She waves it away. I’m not sure if that’s because it’s not enough, or if she’s being generous and planning to supply the food. Maybe I can repay her by working in the antique shop, or by making money at another job and giving it to her.

  But it’ll be difficult to get a job in this country if I can’t speak English.

  I follow them down the hall, listening to their words, trying to find patterns or repeated phrases to learn. It’s a random, bumpy kind of language to my ears.

  We enter an eating area with a food counter and rows of tables. The aromas of beef, onions, and fried potatoes come close to sending me into an instant faint. Beagley sits at one table, waving to us and indicating a bounty of drinks and wrapped bundles on trays. He obviously has already bought food for everyone, maybe enough for me, too. I’ll need to pay him back instead of Mrs. Turner. English words zip back and forth in a rapid volley as we approach him. Beagley gawks as they explain my language loss and whatever else they’re saying.

  I sit across from Nathan, in between his mother and Beagley. Cherie sits next to Nathan and pushes a container of potato wedges toward me. She’s sharing her portion. I’m surprised, but in the next instant I’m stuffing steaming potatoes into my mouth. The flavors burst across my tongue and my stomach roars its thanks.

  Nathan talks to Beagley as they unwrap food bundles. Mrs. Turner hands one of the bundles to me. As I devour potatoes with scant attention to manners, I realize Nathan has said something vital, and now Beagley’s staring at me. I twist toward him.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, even though I know he can’t understand my words.

  He stretches out one finger. He pokes my arm with it, and cracks a silly smile. Nathan and Cherie break into laughter.

  Nathan must’ve told him it was safe to touch me without repercussions of broken knuckles. I laugh with them, and pat Beagley on his back. The casual gesture is normal, yet at the same time bizarre. Human touch. Endless sands of Arabia! I’m flesh and blood, and the fact hits me full f
orce. No more ghostly, distasteful sensations. No more avoiding physical contact.

  I have a sudden urge to leap up and circle the table hugging everyone. But I resist. My hunger is the more powerful desire. Strange-sounding conversation washes over me as we eat. My stomach fills, leaving me warm and lethargic.

  Beagley lobs a fried potato at Cherie. The missile hits her on the neck and falls to the floor. She kicks him under the table. He throws another potato that bounces off her shoulder. Nathan elbows her and makes a comment, which causes Beagley to cackle. Mrs. Turner rolls her eyes. I’m not sure what’s going on besides congenial fun and horseplay. All my perceptions of mood, undercurrents, and auras are gone.

  I eye Cherie. Has she already made her choice between Nathan and Beagley? She acts comfortable around Nathan, and he acts comfortable with her. It’s true they’re not touching, but they’re more relaxed. She didn’t seem to care that he was holding and consoling me earlier…unless that’s why she was crying. But I didn’t get the impression that she was jealous. Maybe she was just reacting to David being abducted and having to be in the hospital. Perhaps her peaceful manner is from feeling more secure with Nathan, now that she’s his.

  She’s his. That thought sends my heart slamming to my toes.

  When we finish eating, Cherie procures her phone and talks for a few minutes while I help Beagley throw papers and renegade potato wedges in the rubbish bin. Cherie ends her conversation. She slips her phone into her pocket and chats with everyone else. It’s obvious from the glances sent my way that I’m the topic of discussion. Everyone is acting pleasant, so I trust it’s a favorable thing.

  Cherie places a light hand on my shoulder. She points to me and then herself. With a determined air, she pantomimes her hands on a wheel like she’s driving, and tilts her head to one side against her flattened hands. I assume the latter indicates a pillow. She must be offering to drive me somewhere to sleep for the night, perhaps at her house.