“Are you Aladdin?” Mandy asked, fingering the rubies glimmering on Lugal’s vest.
“Who is this Aladdin? I have heard Samantha speak of him as well.”
“A genie,” Mandy and Kevin answered in unison, jumping up and down and clapping.
Lugal laughed. It was an authentic sound of mirth, rendered sexy by his rich, accented baritone.
“Do you like genies?”
“Yes!” The kids became animated all over again.
“Then, yes, I am a genie. My name is Lugal Damu-zid. I come from the ancient land called Sumer.”
“Sumer?” Charlie said, frowning.
At the sound of the male voice, Lugal rose to his full height and walked to the door where Rosie and Charlie stood just inside.
“You are Samantha’s friends,” Lugal said.
Charlie straightened to his full five-feet nine-inches, elevating his chin and swallowing the lump that seemed to be in his throat as he looked up to make eye contact with Lugal. “The name’s Charles Dudchowski,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Rosie’s husband.”
Lugal clasped Charlie’s arm just beneath the elbow, heartily clapping his free hand against Charlie’s other shoulder in way of greeting. “The name is Lugal Damu-zid,” he said, mirroring Charlie’s introduction. “I am husband to no one.”
Samantha smiled. Well, there was one question she wouldn’t have to ask.
Charlie cleared his throat and pushed the eyeglasses up his nose. “Did you say you come from Sumer?”
“I did.”
“That’s impossible. Sumer hasn’t been in existence for thousands of years.”
“That is so.” Lugal nodded. “I am surprised you know of it. Most people I have met do not.”
“Charlie’s a professor of ancient history and classical archaeology,” Samantha explained.
“He’s a genius,” Rosie added proudly, hugging her husband’s arm.
“Professor…” Lugal cocked his head for a moment, as if organizing his thoughts. “This means a teacher, yes?” he asked, eyeing Charlie, who nodded. “Yes. I know this trade. It is a worthy one. Abigail Henley’s husband, Owen, was a professor. She told me many stories of his experiences in the East of America before they began their journey across the Overland Trail passage.”
Eyes widening, Charlie glanced from Lugal to Rosie to Samantha. “What’s going on here? Who is this guy, Samantha? An actor or something?”
“Henley?” Rosie squeaked. “As in the house with the estate sale we went to today?”
“That would be the one,” Samantha assured her. “Remember the old photo I bought?” Rosie nodded and Samantha thumbed at Lugal. “That was him and Abigail.”
Eyes wide in sudden recognition, Rosie grabbed Samantha’s arm. “Oh dear God. I have to sit down.”
“Grab a seat on the couch, you two,” Samantha told Rosie and Charlie. “Lugal, you can sit in that chair,” she gestured to the large, overstuffed chair in one corner. “Hold on just a minute and I’ll explain everything.”
“Hold on to what?” Lugal asked, looking around him.
Her shoulders sagging, Samantha gave a melodic sigh. “Just sit there and be good until I get back.” She turned to Mandy and Kevin. “Come on, kids, I have paper and crayons. Let’s see which of you can draw the best picture of a genie. The winner gets a special prize!”
“Yippee!” The twins jumped for glee and followed Samantha to the kitchen where she set them up with glasses of apple juice and plenty of paper and crayons at the kitchen table—after she placed Lugal’s bottle and the box it came in on the top shelf inside one of the cabinets.
Then she headed back to the living room, to explain to her best friend and her husband that they’d been entertaining a genie in her absence.
Chapter Six
“And that’s it,” Samantha told Rosie and Charlie after explaining how Lugal appeared in a puff of smoke. “That’s the whole story.” Flopping against the back of her chair, she sucked in a deep breath and expelled it.
Charlie turned to his wife, mumbling something too soft for Samantha to hear. She figured he was probably telling her that Samantha had lost her marbles and needed to see a shrink, pronto. She couldn’t blame him a bit. Even after enjoying the best damn sex in all her life, she still had a hard time believing Lugal had popped out of a bottle. Or that he was sitting in her living room.
“I know what you’re thinking, Charlie. I am not crazy. After all, you and Rosie see him too. And so do your kids!”
Sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Charlie sat forward and gave her one of those calm, patronizing smiles Samantha imagined he gave his students. “Yes, but you’re the only one who claims to have seen him shoot out of a bottle in a vaporous cloud,” he pointed out.
Samantha tsked. “Trust me, Charlie, if I was crazy, I’d know it.”
He arched an eyebrow in silent response.
“Nay, Samantha gives no symptoms of one who is mad,” Lugal said.
“Thank you, Lugal.” Samantha sat up straight, elevating her chin and directing a nod of thanks toward him.
“She does not foam at the mouth,” Lugal continued, “tear out clumps of her hair or rend her garments. Her eyes are not wild and unfocused, and she does not spout gibberish. And she has already told me that she is free of sexually transmitted disease.”
“Oh God,” Samantha said, sinking down in her seat and covering her eyes with her hand.
Rosie eyed the big gorgeous male comfortably sprawled in the chair across the room from her and turned back to Samantha. After eyeing her terrycloth bathrobe, Rosie pinned her friend with a you’d-better-come-clean look.
“Why am I thinking that what you told us is not quite the whole story, Sam?” Her devilish smile told Samantha exactly what Rosie was thinking.
“Eh…I’ll be right back.” Samantha held her robe closed tight while she sped to her bedroom. She put on underwear and pulled on a pair of baggy jeans and her cashmere sweater. Gazing at herself in the full length mirror, she smoothed her hair and smiled. There. Now she looked more like a sane woman and less than a wild, wanton, lust-driven harlot.
“More cocoa?” she asked Rosie when she returned to the living room, after checking on Mandy and Kevin and their genie-drawing project. She encouraged the twins to draw pictures of an Arabian castle too, to keep them busy as long as possible. “More water, Charlie, Lugal?”
“Men’s breeches again,” Lugal scoffed with a look of disdain as he eyed Samantha’s jeans. His gaze transferred to Rosie, who squirmed a bit in her seat under his scrutiny. “And your friend, Rosie, is no better. She is dressed like her husband. You would both look more like females simply draped with the cloth that hangs over the window.”
Samantha and Rosie followed the movement of Lugal’s hand as he gestured to the window, which was covered in airy, semi-sheer curtains. They exchanged glances, blushing.
“Excuse me,” Charlie said, “but I don’t appreciate you sitting there half-naked and making lewd suggestions about my wife and Sam.”
“My apologies, Charlie.” Lugal inclined his head. “It was not my intention to be provocative. I was only proposing that the women of your time should try to look more like women instead of their male counterparts. Would you tell me that you would not prefer to see your lovely wife draped in silks and satins rather than the mannish garb she now wears?”
All it took was one brief glance Rosie’s way for the color to rise from Charlie’s throat to his freckled cheeks.
“Maybe he’s a magician of some sort,” he said to his wife, ignoring Lugal’s question. “He could have hypnotized Sam into believing he’s a genie. Or slipped a drug into whatever she was drinking.”
“Nay, I do not delve into the dark realms of magic. I did not tell Samantha I am a genie. She came upon that false conclusion of her own accord.”
“Because he wears balloon pants and I get three wishes,” Samantha explained with a shrug. “It’s a natural assumption.”<
br />
“There’s nothing natural about this,” Charlie countered.
“You get three wishes?” Rosie asked excitedly. “Did you make them already? What were they?”
“No. We didn’t even get to the three wishes part yet. We’ve been…eh…” Samantha glanced at Lugal, who had one of those sexy we-share-a-special-secret looks on his handsome face. Samantha swallowed hard. “We’ve been busy talking,” she said. “About other stuff.”
“Talking…” Rosie looked from Samantha to Lugal and smiled. “Uh-huh.”
“As for being drugged, all I had was a little diet cocoa…with a tiny shot of Baileys and Kahlua.” Samantha watched Charlie give his wife a what-did-I-tell-you look. “But I finished it before the whooshing out of the bottle thing started.”
“That explains it,” Charlie said quietly. “He came in here and took advantage of Sam’s inebriated state.”
“I was not drunk!”
“I did nothing to Samantha…except what she wished of me,” Lugal said. The hungry look, topped by a wicked smile, that he sent Samantha scorched her from the roots of her hair to her toes, which were still encased in bunny slippers.
“I knew it,” Rosie said with a snicker. “Methinks the dry spell is over.” She wagged her eyebrows.
“Rosie!” Samantha’s cheeks burned and she could swear they must have gone from pink to crimson.
“If you’re not a magician,” Charlie said, undistracted by the women’s conversation, “then how do you explain this ridiculous explanation of Samantha’s? I’ve never heard her mention you before. How do I know you didn’t force your way in here earlier and drug her or something?” He pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping it open. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be calling the police to come haul you away right now.”
“Charlie, don’t!” Samantha cried, jumping up from her chair. “What I told you is the truth. I swear to God, Lugal came out of a bottle in a puff of smoke.” On her way to the kitchen, she told him, “Wait, I’ll get the bottle and box it came in so you can see for yourself.”
As Samantha left the room, Lugal’s lips curled into a slow smile. She heard him say, “I like you, Charlie. Clearly, you are a good man. While you may be slight of stature, without the imposing physique of a warrior, you possess the brave heart of a hero.”
“This is it, Charlie,” Samantha said, returning a moment later and depositing the stone box with the metal strappings on the coffee table in front of him. “That’s just how I found it at the estate sale.”
“It is good that you seek to protect the women from perceived harm, Charlie,” Lugal continued. “However, I can assure you that I do not pose a threat to you, your family, or to Samantha. I am here to serve and protect only. You have my oath.”
“He sounds sincere,” Rosie offered. “Kind of like a cop.”
“Yeah, so do most cunning criminals,” Charlie replied, closing his phone and setting it on the table.
“Here’s the old photo of Abigail Henley. See the guy standing behind her? Take a good look, Charlie.”
He lifted the photo, studying it closely. While he examined it, his wife turned to Samantha, who had taken a seat next to her.
“Oh brother,” Rosie whispered, folding her arms across her chest. “To think I believed all that holier-than-thou crap you fed me about you being the kind of girl who didn’t even kiss on the first date. Sam, you are such a slut.” She giggled.
Sneaking a surreptitious glance at Lugal, whose attention was on Charlie, Samantha sighed. “I know,” she agreed, keeping her voice soft. “But, seriously…can you blame me? I mean, for chrissakes, look at him, Rosie!”
“I probably don’t have to ask if he was any good.”
“Ohmigod, Rosie.” Samantha rolled her eyes skyward. “Un-fucking-believable,” she breathed in her ear.
“Granted,” Charlie said, looking from the sepia picture to Lugal and back again, “there’s a strong resemblance…but it couldn’t possibly be the same person. It’s not logical.”
Rosie sighed and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Charlie, but you have absolutely no imagination.” She turned toward Lugal. “He’s a real academic. Purely a statistics and physical evidence kind of guy.”
“I can understand that.” Lugal nodded. “It is wise to be doubtful.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Charlie,” Samantha said, leaning over and jabbing a finger at the photo. “It’s more than just a resemblance. It’s the same man. Admit it, already.”
Clearly engrossed in his investigation, Charlie ignored Samantha and Rosie. A moment later, he set the photo on the table, then picked up the stone box. After scrutinizing every nook and cranny of the stone, the metal, the silk lining and the spun glass bottle inside, he looked up, an expression of amazement on his face.
“These are either the most clever reproductions I’ve ever seen,” he said, “or extremely rare antiquities.” He traced his finger over the hieroglyphic-like symbols. “Do you have any idea what this is?” he asked, not really directing the question to anyone in particular.
“Some sort of Greek or Egyptian writing, I figured,” Samantha said.
“Maybe it’s ancient Chinese,” Rosie offered.
Charlie shook his head, the look of awe still in his eyes. “No, if I’m not mistaken it’s—”
“Cuneiform,” Lugal said.
Gazing up at Lugal in wonder, he said, “Yes. How did you know that?”
“My people, the Sumerians, invented it.”
“No.” Charlie shook his head. “That’s impossible. Cuneiform is the world’s first written language. The last known cuneiform inscription was about 75 AD.”
Lugal rose from his chair and went to Charlie’s side. “May I?” he asked, extending his hand toward the box. Charlie turned it over to him with some reluctance. “It is a lamentation,” Lugal stated as he studied the pictograms. Tracing his finger along the metal strap, he read aloud, “‘She made her fly like a swallow from the window. My life was consumed…’ It appears to speak of, perhaps, a child being taken by Ereshkigal, goddess of the underworld.”
Charlie fell back against the sofa cushions, aghast. “Incredible.” He turned to Rosie and Samantha, simply repeating, “Incredible.” After gathering his thoughts, he looked up at Lugal, who had set the box on the table. “And the bottle…you-you know what that is?”
Lugal nodded. “In my time, spun glass bottles such as this were owned only by the wealthy. Their purpose was to hold perfumed oil or for use as a tear vase. Because of the lamentation, I would imagine this vessel was used for tears.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Charlie said.
“Charlie!” Rosie said. “He never swears,” she told Samantha and Lugal.
Lugal smiled. Leaning over Charlie, he pressed a finger to the man’s chest. “Ummia,” he said. Then he touched his own chest. “Amelu,” he said.
“My God…that sounds like…”
“Sumerian,” Lugal said with a slow nod, maintaining direct eye contact with Charlie.
“What did he say, what did he say?” Rosie asked excitedly.
“As near as I can decipher,” Charlie answered, “he called me teacher and himself soldier.”
“It is close enough,” Lugal said.
“How do you know Sumerian?” Samantha asked Charlie.
“One of the umpteen degrees he has is in ancient languages,” Rosie offered when it was evident Charlie’s mind was totally focused on the swell of new information. “You forget, I’m married to a walking encyclopedia.”
“But the Sumerian language hasn’t been spoken since before the time of Moses,” Charlie pointed out to Lugal.
“Who?” Lugal asked in all sincerity.
Charlie narrowed his gaze. “Describe your family home.”
“We lived in one of the small sun-dried brick homes clustered around the Ziggurat. Our house shared walls with other houses. There was a small courtyard where stairs led up to the second floor a
nd then to the flat roof. When weather permitted, my family cooked and slept on the roof.”
Charlie was quiet for a moment. “There was an ancient king of Uruk,” he finally said, “who became quite well known. Can you tell me why?”
“Ah, yes.” Lugal gave a knowing nod. “You speak of Gilgamesh, the son of Lugalbanda and father of Urlugal. He was said to be two-thirds god and one-third human. The Sumerian people wrote a great epic telling of his exploits.”
Lugal smiled. “Is that enough information for you, Charlie?”
“Sonuvabitch. I think this guy’s for real,” Charlie muttered, looking white as a sheet. “I don’t know how it’s possible, it defies all logic, all science, but…I believe it.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Samantha said.
Charlie held the bottle gingerly in his hands. “I have to know more. How. When. Where. Why.”
“You sound like a reporter,” Rosie said.
“Don’t tell me he has a degree in journalism too,” Samantha joked.
“Sure he does.” Rosie shrugged as Samantha gasped. “As long as it doesn’t have something to do with sports or gymnastics, my Charlie probably has a degree in it.” She beamed a proud smile as she patted her husband’s arm.
It wasn’t the first time that Samantha was struck by the obvious love Rosie had for her husband. Opposites in many ways, with Rosie being outgoing and gregarious, and Charlie more the quiet, bookish type, theirs seemed to be a soul mate match made in heaven.
Samantha only hoped she’d be half as lucky in love one day.
“Where was Sumer?” Rosie asked.
“South of Akkad, between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers,” Lugal answered.
Charlie nodded. “It was in what’s now known as the Middle East,” he said. “Sumer was part of Mesopotamia.”
“All done, Auntie Sam!” Mandy said, running into the living room, waving her colored sheets of paper.
“Me too!” Kevin called, following on her heels with his drawings.
“Pick me, pick me!”
“No! Meeeeeeeeee!” Kevin pleaded. “Mine is best.”
Samantha and Her Genie Page 9
