CHAPTER TWO

I hate waking up early. I'm definitely the sleeping in type. Unfortunately, when you have an eight-year-old little sister, it's hard to do. Nida came rushing into my room at seven thirty in the morning.

"I told Mom that you yelled at me!" she said with a smug look on her face. "Now you're in trouble!"

I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what she had just said. I was not fully awake yet. I sat up and stretched out my arms. "What time is it?"

"Did you hear what I said?" Nida asked.

"Yeah, I did. And I honestly don't care. You know, I was going to apologize, but since you're being a brat I'm not going to now."

Nida stared at me angrily then stormed down the stairs.

I sighed. "I do not remember being that much of a brat when I was that age," I said. I got out of bed and lazily walked down to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Ebony," said my grandpa as I approached him. "I'm cooking some pancakes for breakfast."

"Smells good," I replied.

"They'll be ready soon. Go ahead and set the table if you will please."

"Sure thing," I said. But then I realized that I had no idea where any of the dishes and silverware was. "Um, Gramps…where are the plates?"

"Oh, of course. The plates and bowls are in that cabinet. The cups are right next to it. And the silverware is in that drawer over there by the dishwasher."

"Thanks. And we're eating in the dining room?"

Gramps nodded and I began to set the table for breakfast. By eight my sisters were up and about and I decided to go get ready before we ate. I changed in my new room and brushed my hair. Then I went down to my mom's bathroom to brush my teeth. My mom was in her room when I went in.

"Morning, Mom," I said. "I just came to brush my teeth. We're still sharing a bathroom, right?"

"Yeah," my mom replied. "But I need to talk to you."

"I know, I know, I was kind of mean to Nida last night but sometimes she can be so annoying and you know how much I hate it when I have to share a bed with her. And I'm sorry for being rude to you yesterday too. I guess I just wasn't in a good mood. But that's not an excuse and I'm sorry for taking it out on you."

"That's fine. You just have to remember that your sister looks up to you. You have to learn to restrain yourself and be a little nicer."

"Okay," I said. "I guess I just didn't know what to say. She was refusing to listen to me. I kept telling her that she couldn't stay in my bed but she just kept asking."

"You could have just let her sleep in your bed for one night. Would that have been so hard?"

"Yes," I replied. "Mom, she needs to learn that she can't always get what she wants. Or else she's going to be even more disappointed when she doesn't."

I knew that no matter what I said, my sister would end up spoiled, because of all that had happened recently. My mom told me once that I had been treated the same way when I was little, but she way just lying to herself. She was going easy on Nida and in the end all it would do was hurt her.

"I know. It's just hard for her now. And you need to be more sensitive to how she feels."

"What about how I feel?"

"She's younger than you," my mom argued. "She can't deal with her feelings as well as you can so you have to help her. It's your job as an older sister."

"Okay, Mom," I agreed, not wanting to get into an argument. I had gotten the "Your Job as an Older Sister" speech before and I didn't want to go into the whole thing again. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Everyone gathered in the dining room for breakfast at around eight fifteen. It was pretty silent as we ate. Everyone was just thinking about their own stuff, I guess. Grandpa's pancakes were really delicious though. I was thankful that at least something in my day had started out right.

After breakfast I decided to hang out in the family room with my sisters.

"Let's watch Aladdin!" Nida exclaimed. It had been her favorite movie since she was three.

"Not again, please!" Rachel whined. "I am so sick of that movie." We had watched it hundreds of times with Nida. I regretted ever showing her the movie in the first place.

Grandpa walked into the room. "What movie?" he asked.

"Aladdin," I replied.

"I agree," said Gramps. "It's a terrible movie. I hate it."

We all looked at him in surprise. Some of us were sick of the movie, yes, but we had never heard of anyone who had hated it.

"Just let her watch it," said Meghann. "It will take, like, an hour and a half and then she'll get bored and leave and we can watch whatever we want."

"Will not!" Nida argued. She hated it when people predicted what she was going to do, but usually they were right.

"Just put in the movie," I said. Gramps grunted and left.

Just as Meghann had predicted, as soon as the movie was finished, Nida was ready to leave the room and go play outside. But as the credits finished (Nida always insisted on watching the movie the whole way through, including previews and credits) Grandpa came into the living room.

"I was thinking that we could spend some time together," he said. "I haven't seen you girls in such a long time."

"Well, what did you have in mind?" Rachel asked.

"I thought I could tell you a story, the story of why I don't like the movie you were just watching."

It didn't sound like it would be too interesting, but we couldn't say no. At least Nida seemed excited. So Grandpa took a seat on the rocking chair and began his tale.

"All right, I am going to relate to you the true story of Ali Baba."

"We know the story already, Gramps. With the forty thieves and all, right?" Meghann said.

"No, no. This is a story very few people have heard. This is the true story."

At least the story wouldn't be too dull, know that I knew that I had never heard it before.

"Okay," Grandpa began. "Ali Baba was a man who lived in India two centuries ago."

Meghann interrupted. "Isn't this story supposed to be a lot farther back in time?"

"I told you, this is the real story. It's not the same. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Ali was a street rat, just like in the movie. He didn't have much going for him. But one day, someone hired him to go into an old tomb underground to retrieve a lamp; a lamp that they claimed was magical. Now, Ali didn't truly believe the lamp had magic, but the person who hired him was offering a high amount for the retrieval of the lamp, so Ali agreed. Ali snuck into the tomb in the middle of the night. He searched and searched for the lamp, but it was a big tomb. Finally, after a day of searching, he came upon a pedestal, and on it sat a beautiful golden lamp."

"Did the lamp have a genie inside?" questioned Nida eagerly.

"Just listen to the story," replied Gramps. "You'll find out. Anyway, Ali immediately knew that this was the lamp that the man had hired him to get. There was a strange light emanating from it and if Ali believed in such things, he himself would guess that there was a magical power to it."

Despite my lack of interest when Grandpa started, I began getting into the story at that point.

"So Ali took the lamp from the pedestal. As soon as he touched it, it began to make a strange ringing sound, like a tiny bell. There was an inscription on the side of the lamp. Although Ali had grown up on the streets, he had learned to read from an old book salesman, whom often gave Ali food. So he read the inscription."

Nida's eyes were wide open with curiosity. "What did it say Grandpa, what did it say?"

"I'll tell you," Grandpa began again. "It read:

Those of you who read this lamp

And free me from my golden camp

Then your wish is my command

If you are pure of heart with steady hand

Make a wish, your hearts desire

Five times 'til I expire

I will help those whose hearts are stout

So tip me over and pour me out

"The words on the lamp had moved Ali so, that despite his beliefs in magic, he tipped over the spout of the lamp. And out came…"

"What? What?!" Nida practically screamed.

"A genie!" Grandpa exclaimed. "Ali was so surprised, he almost ran out of the tomb. But he got a hold of himself and stayed. So Ali talked to the genie, and the genie told him that he would grant Ali five wishes. Ali wished himself out of the tomb and to another city, where the man who had hired him would never find him, for Ali did not want to give the lamp to the man. However, the man had not yet paid Ali for his services, so Ali didn't feel too bad about leaving him hanging. The genie helped Ali to get a job and a house. Ali got married and had a baby boy. And when the boy turned eighteen, Ali gave him the lamp. And so it has been passed down from generation to generation until this very day."

"That's it?" questioned Nida, sounding disappointed. "That's the end?"

"Well, there were a few times in the two centuries that have passed, in which the man who had hired Ali tried to steal back the lamp. He felt that he had a right to it. So his family has been trying to get the lamp back ever since. And they once hired the forty thieves to get back the lamp for them, but after hearing about it, the thieves wanted it for themselves, so that's how they got involved. So the forty thieves and the family have been trying to get the lamp ever since."

"What was the name of guy who hired Ali?" Meghann asked.

"Jafar of course," Grandpa replied. "He was a very powerful noble in that time."

"Wait," I began, feeling a little confused. "Why didn't Jafar just go and get the lamp himself? Didn't he figure that Ali would just take it?"

"Well, the thing is, Jafar thought there might be a chance that Ali would take it, but he figured that if he did, he could just steal it back eventually."

I was still confused. "But why didn't he just take it himself? Why hire Ali?"

"Jafar was afraid of the spirits in the tomb," Gramps replied. "He thought that they would harm him. However, Jafar had found out that the tomb was actually filled with Ali's descendents from a long time ago, when they were powerful merchants. So he figured that the spirits wouldn't harm Ali."

I nodded in understanding. "That makes sense now. Wow, Gramps, that was a good story. Did you come up with that poem about the lamp all by yourself?"

Gramps just laughed and left the room. Nida followed him. I had underestimated Gramps's story telling ability. The "real" story of Ali Baba and the genie had been kind of interesting.

"Great, now we have the TV to ourselves," said Rachel. Rachel and Meghann had not seemed particularly thrilled by the story.

I didn't feel much like watching TV anymore but I had nothing better to do with my time. I watched as Meghann and Rachel flipped through the channels, not being able to choose what they actually wanted to see. They had never really watched TV too much before. I think that they had just started doing it recently to help pass the time. We were all feeling a little restless these days. We didn't want any extra time on our hands to think too much.

After watching TV for about an hour with Meg and Rachel, I decided to go check up on Nida. My mom had left to get trained for her new job, and I knew that she wanted me to keep an eye on everyone.

Nida was in her room, reading a book. We had definitely gotten our love of reading from my father; my mom never read anything voluntarily.

"How's it going?" I asked Nida.

Nida put the book down. "I'm still mad at you," she said defiantly.

"Don't be," I said simply. I took a seat on the bed next to her. "This is a nice room."

"It's bigger than my old one," Nida said, distracted from the fact that she was supposed to be mad at me.

There was a knock on the door. I was going to call to whoever it was to come in, but I figured that might make Nida mad, considering it was her room and all. It was better for me not to remind her of her anger towards me until I knew she was completely over it.

"Come in," Nida said.

Grandpa came into the room, chocolate milk in hand. "Your mother says you have some chocolate milk around this time today?"

Nida nodded eagerly. He handed her the cup and she began chugging it down. "Grandpa," she said, in between slurps, "can you tell us more stories about Ali Baba and the genie and Jafar and the forty thieves? Please?"

"Sure," Grandpa said.

"Wait, one question before you start," I said. "Where did you get these stories, Gramps?"

"Hasn't your mother ever told you? I used to live in India. That's where I met your grandmother, God bless her soul."

"I never knew that," I said, a little upset with my mother for never having told me. That was information I would have loved to know earlier.

"Yes. I lived there for three years after college. But, you can hear more stories about that another time. Now I must continue about Ali Baba and the lamp. Hm, what can I tell you about them now? Well, after Ali had the genie, he used up his five wishes in about five years. By then, he had a wife and a son. He decided that he would pass the lamp on to his son, who would then pass it to his future son or daughter, and so on, and so on. The lamp became a family heirloom. They even had a tradition to have a sort of coming-of-age ceremony in which the child would be handed down the lamp on his or her seventeenth birthday.

"Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Jafar to find Ali. He hired the forty thieves to get the lamp back for him. Now, everyone knows the forty thieves can't be trusted, but Jafar thought that he could control them. He was wrong. They got the lamp back all right, taking Ali by surprise at his house. But they didn't give it to Jafar. They decided to use it for themselves. They made one wish, that they could find the treasure of a legendary pirate. The genie provided them with a map, and nothing else. Ali got word that the forty thieves were going to go after the treasure, and he followed them, bringing along a friend of his for back-up.

"Once they found the treasure, in an ancient cave under the sea, they were so mesmerized and distracted with trying to stuff their clothes with gold, that Ali was able to disguise himself as a thief, and sneak in. While everyone was preoccupied, he took the lamp back and gave it to his friend. His friend summoned the genie, and made a wish that all of the forty thieves would be sent to a land far away. The genie did as he was told, and the forty thieves disappeared, just like that.

"So Ali and his friend called up some contacts, and together they shipped the gold out of the cave and back to India, where they split it in half between themselves, making sure to pay the workers who helped them a fair amount. The forty thieves were not seen for another sixty years. Some say that they all died in some far off land, and that the forty thieves who emerged again were really just copycats of the first group. But some say that they found their way back, somehow, although it took them sixty years, and trained their children to take their place. Either way, ever since that point, the forty thieves have been craving for the lamp."

"This Jafar guy seems really lazy," I said. "Why doesn't he ever just do anything himself?"

"He did once, and failed miserably," said Gramps. "Would you like to hear that story?"

Nida nodded enthusiastically. I nodded as well; all of Gramps's stories had been interesting thus far. Maybe I wouldn't be so bored in Jersey after all.

"It's actually somewhat amusing but short," Gramps said. "You see, Jafar tried to sneak into Ali's house once. He had the idea of crawling through the chimney like Santa Clause. He was never very smart; he always left the thinking to his minions. So he climbed up a tree hanging over Ali's house. He jumped off onto the roof and tried to make his way to the chimney. He ended up slipping and getting his pants caught on the gutter, and then they ripped off, and he fell to the ground in his pink boxers. Hearing the noise, Ali ran outside to see what had happened. Showing some mercy, he just told Jafar that he would call the police in five minutes, so that was how long he had to leave the premises."

Nida was giggling hysterically. I smiled as well, I was glad that Gramps had a sense of humor, Nida would enjoy it. I wondered where he came up with these stories. I mean, had he thought them up before, or was he making them up off the top of his head?

I decided that I'd leave Gramps to amuse Nida for awhile, and headed up to my room.