The Infinity Sign That Takes Longer to Draw 2

by Zohar Neiger

  Dedicated to all those who I asked weirdly specific questions while writing this book.

  Copyright © 2020 Zohar Neiger

  THE INFINITY SIGN THAT TAKES LONGER TO DRAW Zohar Neiger

  First printed 2020

  © All Rights Reserved, Zohar Neiger 2020

  © Cover Art: Zohar Neiger

  All rights reserved.

  All content and images herein are subject to copyright. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without written prior permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  First printing: March 2020

  Chapter List

  21. Janet's Algae (I and II)

  22. A Familiar Face

  23. Carrots for Carrot

  24. Revelation 13:4

  25. Snake Eyes / Jude 1:6

  26. Milk and Honey

  27. Spill the Beans (I and II)

  28. Isaiah 6:2

  29. Prologue to the Fairytale Book

  30. The Man Who Went Searching for the Sun

  31. The Man Who Was Afraid of Dogs and Rain

  32. Hoku Lele

  33. Akhet Lele

  34. Nothing

  35. Sun's Circlet

  36. Emeralds.

  37. Dandelion Puffs

  38. May you be Forgiven

  39. Navy Blue Ink

  40. Deity's Research

  41. "I Think the First Word was 'Wispy'."

  42. Assessor of Maat

  43. Limbo

  44. Feathers / Genesis 3:14

  45. Fur

  46. White and Blue

  47. The Dip

  48. The Big Dipper / Prelude

  49. Fire in the Sky

  Extra Content:

  1. Character Name Index

  2. Sheet Music

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter List

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  Extra Content

  21

  Janet's Algae

  Part I

  Of course Lan'er is a jinn.

  Within the halls of the emperor's concubine selections, a woman with skin any tanner than bleached ivory was thought far too dark. Why, then, would an emperor adopt a black skinned child?

  Hair long, glistening, thin and straight was the ideal. Why, then, did everyone think that the thick, tiny, countless curls cascading from Lan'er's scalp were suddenly gorgeous?

  You can't overthrow years of ignorance and social norms just with being beautiful, can you?

  When we all assumed her physical strength was a developed skill, she must have laughed behind our backs. When we thought her neat, mechanical writing was a product of her being disciplined and steadfast, she must have hidden a smug sneer.

  But if her nature as a Sila Jinn was to seduce men and have hybrid children with them, like Huapaya's creature book says, what was she doing with me?

  It is impossible that Alioth is my daughter. She's younger than the amount of years that passed since I left China. Besides, if she were not the biological child of the sheikh's brother, I doubt they'd take the risk of having a jinn in their family and would likely banish her too.

  If she is in fact a jinn, that is. It was time to check.

  Two days after the dinner, the crisp midnight air washed over my face and froze my ears. I crossed the edge of the door to my room and looked left and right.

  A distinct chubby silhouette was standing next to the mansion wall. I looked away from it, nodding and flicking my fingers forward twice. Time to go, Alioth.

  The street looked so barren in the darkness, the path’s crunching under my crawling feet louder than ever. In the distance, between my footsteps, were another set of heavy ones. I wish she’d walk quieter. We got to a curve in the street and I waddled up to the corner, waiting for her to catch up. Then, she started leading.

  My constant napping today meant I was abnormally awake for this hour.

  We tiptoed past another empty street, seeing the place where the houses stop in the distance. Her skirt that covered her swimsuit’s leggings puckered when she lifted her feet. The moon was a thin crescent, resembling the smile of a jaguar, and the sky was deep navy blue, partially cloudy and sprinkled to the brim with sparkling stars.

  Some windows still had light, but most were dim. Decorations were already hung for Ramadan: strings of light-up crescents with stars, as well as paper and plastic lanterns. These lit up the yellow plaster of the houses in an ethereal glow. Crickets sang like ravens.

  Though I'm not too old, I should think, I came across lots of kinds of nights during my years. On one kind, you stagger through the streets with your friends, laughing under eerie streetlights and never minding the sky black as an onyx above you. In the absence of your friends and the streetlights, that night’s darkness seizes your neck and spits in your face, but ironically, if you're sad, it feels like it's wrapping you up in a healing embrace like a celestial dark sea.

  Sometimes the sky is just light enough to have some clouds come into view. The navy-blue night. These nights, where the stars are most bright and the air cool, are best spent lying on linen with a lover, watching through the skylight, talking and talking. In absence of this lover, the cold air slaps you and the stars are just thousands of lights always out of your reach, like lit windows in a lonely city, sparkling as if laughing at you.

  The final type is the stormy one.

  Alioth kept leading me forward, out of the shelter of the houses and into the sinister, pathless sand.

  “Is it safe here?” I whispered as loudly as I could. She turned around to me, and we both stopped in our tracks.

  She smiled, “I knew they wouldn’t station any guards.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  She didn't reply.

  Just when I was about to question her again, a spiral of sand came flying in my face and smacked the air. The wind whistled horribly in my ears and whilst trying to look past the grains scraping at my eyes I could see a whirlwind gather from the clouds somewhat far away.

  “Alioth, let’s go! It's the curse!” I urged, sand getting in my mouth. I started running the other direction, but she remained where she stood.

  “Janet, it’s me!” she shouted.

  All at once, the sand settled. I angrily scuffed at my hair, a pound of golden particles tumbling back to the ground. I rubbed my eyes and spat on the ground, all in a vicious attempt to clean myself. My eyes kept burning like they were filled with grains of hot peppers. I looked to her and wanted to speak. “What was that—“

  My jaw dropped when I saw her running toward where the whirlwind was, but instead of it stood a large white camel.

  “Alioth, what…” I huffed, taking off after her.

  It bowed its head and allowed itself to be pet by her. She had the biggest grin on her face, rubbing her hands all
over the camel’s snout and forehead.

  “Janet, you know Shaman Fang."

  The camel lifted its head and looked at me, expressionless. It was so tall I could fit under its legs and still have some room to jump.

  "What do you mean how did I know you know him? He said he never ran into any whirlwinds, surely you avoided turning into one around him?" It seemed to communicate with Alioth through some kind of telepathy.

  I gawked at the animal.

  I once read of a creature of this nature.

  “You’re friends with a Jann,” I said.

  “Yep,” Alioth answered.

  "An ancient jinn who can become a whirlwind."

  "Yep," Alioth answered.

  “And their name is Janet,” I said.

  “Yep."

  “What’s that?” Alioth leaned into the camel’s fur. “They say they’re sorry the whirlwind messed up your hair, it's just how they appear sometimes.”

  “I know, it’s alright,” I chuckled, my eyebrows shooting upward.

  Alioth used one of the many Bedouin words for specifying various types of camels to describe Janet – "Al-khaluj" – but I couldn't recall what kind of camel that is supposed to describe.

  Alioth whispered something to the camel, still having the telepathic conversation.

  "Well, you’re friends with a jinn, that's a pretty, uh, jinni thing to do."

  She pouted, “hey, you’re my friend, aren’t you? That doesn’t make you a jinn!”

  “I’m your examiner,” I corrected.

  Her expression turned to a resigned shrug.

  “Janet here,” Alioth muttered, “since camels are considered a gift from Allah for Bedouins, they are scared to step into the city for fear of being taken and losing their freedom."

  "Well!" I tried to appear as calm as possible, "they are the mysterious 'Whirlwind Curse'."

  Alioth blinked at me. "What curse?"

  I looked at the Jann's face as Alioth leaned into its fur. "Oh. Yeah. That curse."

  I waited for an answer.

  They were both watching me in silence.

  “Ahem. Anyway. Now, if we can start the search for an—“

  “Janet is telling me to tell you… what are you talking about, Janet? Something about Janet covering emotional whirlwinds, under the Jinn Princess's orders?"

  I looked at the camel with mild fascination. "The princess ordered you to pretend you were the cause of the whirlwinds?"

  The camel nodded its head. So, Lan'er really was the cause of the whirlwinds, and needed a scapegoat. How did this camel know I know of her identity?

  "Janet adds that this Jinn Princess ordered that the way from the monastery to the city be clear of whirlwinds." Alioth moved her gaze from it, to me. "What princess?"

  "You said there is an oasis near here Alioth, can you lead us to it?"

  Alioth swiveled to the large majestic creature.

  The animal grunted and lifted its thick neck, starting to walk away.

  When I looked at her funny, she jumped to defend. “You wanted a body of water; Janet knows where they are!”

  We set off after it.

  I followed a goat, now I’m following a jinn camel scapegoat. Add these to my resume.

  My mind wandered to Juzra. At this point I would not be surprised if she was a jinni too. Maybe even a shapeshifting dragon, considering nothing seems impossible nowadays.

  The sand was coarse and crunchy, our footsteps stamping grooves unto its surface. The snowy camel nonchalantly swayed its tail from side to side, and Alioth gained a gait I’ve never seen her have.

  There was something so heartwarming, and somewhat rewarding, about seeing her happy. In this moment, if she thinks about the future for even a millisecond, her joyful trot will die and rot. Yet somehow, she manages to push it away. She manages to find comfort in the presence of her friend. She is not afraid right now.

  I envy her.

  My blurry sight meant I couldn't see much of the view ahead. I only spotted the outline of the natural boulevard of palm trees when we were right by it.

  A large body of rippling water reflected the moon and the stars. The camel huffed and lay down beside it.

  Alioth, still in her serene fantasy, went up and smoothed down its snow-white hair. “Thank you, Janet. Hm? Yes, I’ll be fine. Don't you worry.”

  We wandered off to the other side of the lake, sitting down.

  “We are now Southeast of the village,” Alioth said.

  “I think I like it,” I smiled.

  It really was pretty, the palm trees proudly standing up and reaching to the bedazzled sky. Barely any light was present at all, so every constellation was apparent.

  “That’s the star I'm named after, Alioth.” She pointed to the first star on the handle of The Bigger Dipper.

  I had to squint, but it really did look brighter than the others – though my cataract had me seeing a glowing halo around it.

  We sat in silence for a while.

  “I hope there isn’t another storm tonight,” I said.

  “We’ve been having them every night for a week.” Alioth twiddled her thumbs.

  “Shaman Fang,” she opened, “I heard many people become monks to add meaning to their life. When you were a monk, did you feel such a thing?”

  I turned a side-eye to her. What a strange question it was, to be asked by a girl like her, no less. I imagined she wouldn’t need to bother with questions of life’s purpose, because she had a very clear goal from birth.

  Even still, the reality of her life, despite having status, is to be a string-controlled marionette until the day she dies.

  Is she thinking of becoming a nun? If so, she wouldn’t have to get married.

  Even if she doesn’t turn out to be so much of a jinn, I pondered if it would be better to exaggerate on her report, by so doing setting her free from her future, or sugar coating so she could keep living her sense of purpose and remain with her tribe.

  If I did the latter, would it put her tribe in danger if she truly has Jinn-like abilities? Would I be so cruel as to deprive someone of their life’s purpose – getting married, in her case – when I myself hate the creature who did that courtesy to me?

  I suppose I’ll find out soon.

  “I wasn't a monk. But no, being a shaman didn’t help me find purpose. Quite the contrary, actually.”

  “W-well why’d you become one? Why’d you stay?”

  A shaky breath fled my nose in the peril of her question. I stayed silent for a moment. “I needed something from their archives. The only way to access those archives was by becoming a part of the community there. I couldn't find it, but I stayed after I found I had nowhere else to go.”

  She looked up at the sky, its darkness slowly transitioning into a yet darker shade of deep, deep blue.

  I saw the star Alioth be gobbled by the mist of a cloud gently emerging from the East.

  "Nowhere else to go," she whispered.

  We stared for a little while before I stood up, putting my hands on my hips and exhaling violently.

  “Well, life only has as much purpose as we give it. So, if you end up being a jinn, you’ll have to think of something to do.”

  She was seated, slumped and her legs outstretched on the ground. It was the pose of a lifeless, abandoned puppet.

  “I thought about that,” she said, voice hoarse yet sweet, “I thought to follow the star Alioth and see the Northern Lights.”

  I grinned.

  “Stupid, I know,” she said.

  “Let’s find everything out, shall we?” I held out my arm. She took it and I positioned her upright.

  “We’ll begin by calming you down, by doing an exercise called fire breathing. All you have to do is intake air through your nose and huff it out very quickly, like so.”

  I started accelerating my breathing, my chest rising and falling faster than my heartbeat. Up-down-up-down-up-down-up-down. It sounded like a fireplace pump dispensing air into the flames.


  She mimicked my movements, and we stood together doing this for about a minute.

  Once I stopped, she promptly followed.

  “Do you feel a little calmer?”

  “I guess,” she tried to smile, “it felt like I was suffocating even though air was constantly rushing through.”

  “It helps get the oxygen going. It gets the body’s systems working, and once the body is making its parts move, the bad energy within it is absorbed into the ground, exiting through the feet. That’s what Shamanism teaches.”

  Though I do shamanism, if the desired effect is reached that's up to what was probably going to happen anyway. Still, a placebo isn't always a bad cure.