Title: Alassin
Author: oosh@gmx.net
Keywords: f-solo,parody,travesty,symbolic

Alassin

by oosh@gmx.net


Once upon a time, not so very long ago, there was a little Chinese
restaurant. And while Mr Cheng, the proprietor, strutted importantly among
the tables, and his wife supervised the cooking in the kitchen, a young girl
stood at the sink, her arms deep in the hot water, staring sightlessly
through the kitchen window into the darkness beyond.

"Dreaming again, Alassin? Get on with your work!" snarls Mrs Cheng angrily,
"I don't know why we adopted you!"

Wearily, Alassin begins to rub at a plate; but as soon as Mrs Cheng is
distracted, her movements slow to a halt.

"Mr Cheng! Mr Cheng!" calls his wife. "I can't get through to that girl.
You'll have to do something. Just look at her!"

Mr Cheng comes in and looks. Alassin is just standing motionless at the
sink. She is becoming shapely. Over the last few months, her hips have
rounded out, her shoulders broadened. Mr Cheng sees the whites of her
staring eyes reflected in the glass of the window.

Mrs Cheng throws herself at him, beating her fists upon his massive chest in
soft desperation.

"She just dreams and dreams. I don't know what's got into her lately. And
every time I speak to her, she just looks at me. Her eyes frighten me. Do
something! Please do something!"

Mr Cheng comforts his wife, then advances to the girl at the sink. He goes
to touch her, then draws his hands back.

"Alassin!" he says, fiercely.

She turns. Her eyes are big and dark. She does not blink. Her mouth is
lax and pretty. She is becoming a woman.

He looks again into those eyes, and is suddenly furious.

"If you won't work, then into the cellar you shall go!"

Grabbing her by the waist and lifting her as if she were weightless, he
throws the cellar door wide and bounds down the steps into the darkness. At
the bottom, he throws her roughly to the floor.

For a moment, Alassin is stunned. She hears his heavy footsteps as he mounts
the stairs, slams the door - and locks it.

Silence. Darkness. And even in the darkness, the whites of her dark eyes
seem to glow with bitter fury.

After a while, Alassin's anger begins to subside. She has never been down
here before. She is curious. She begins to feel about her, her eyes round
and wild in the deep darkness. And then she finds something. It is hollow,
and tapers to a little point. It is shaped like a lamp, an ancient oil lamp.
Carefully she feels in the hollow.  There is just a little oil. It is
smooth, it is pleasant on her fingers. She rubs the lamp. There is more oil.
More and more. This thing is magic. Soon, she senses a strange glow.

Angry feet stamp about in the kitchen overhead. Voices are raised.

Alassin does not hear them. The oil is smooth, and very pleasant to the
touch. Soon, the eerie glow seems to fill her whole body. Gently, she rubs.
And as she rubs, the glow flickers into a light, a light which fills the
whole cellar. Alassin gasps. It is blinding, and still it seems to grow and
grow.

"Oh!" cries Alassin, amazed, as the light seems to shatter - and lo! the
cellar is filled with gold and precious jewels.  For here, down here in the
cellar, is treasure beyond compare. It is the answer to all her longings, all
her yearnings.

Hours later, "What can she be doing down there?" Mrs Cheng complains to her
husband. "I hear her moaning, but she makes no attempt to get out. Go and
find out what's happening down there!"

Mr Cheng is a big, strong man, but there is something strange about that
adopted girl of theirs. Cautiously, his heart beating uncomfortably in his
chest, he approaches the door. "Alassin!" he calls threateningly. There is a
soft moan, but nothing else. He opens the door, and is amazed to see the
cellar flooded in dazzling light. Immediately he closes the door. He turns
to his wife, who is looking at him blankly.

"Did you...?" he falters.

"What?" she snaps angrily. "Go and see what she is doing!"

Mr Cheng realizes that she has seen nothing. "Dear, just go and look after
our customers," he says softly, "I'll deal with this."

She obliges.

Once more, carefully, Mr Cheng opens the cellar door, blinking in the fierce
light from below.

"Why... Alassin... What is that light?"

"It is... something I have found." Alassin's voice is steady and cool.

Mr Cheng thinks fast. He swallows noisily. "Give me that lamp, and I will
let you out."

There is a long silence. Mr Cheng blinks in the dazzling light. At last,
there comes an answer.

"No. You let me out first."

Mr Cheng grimaces in frustration. He must have that lamp. "If you give me
the lamp, I will not make you do the washing-up any more.  You may do as you
please, if only you give me that lamp."

But from below comes the teasing reply: "Perhaps I prefer to remain down here."

Mr Cheng pounds his fist into his palm.  "A thing like that - in the hands
of a mere girl... it is monstrous!" he mutters fiercely to himself. "I must
have it. I must trick her somehow." The light is blinding. It seems to mock
him.  "Alassin!" he calls out. "Alassin! I will give you anything - your
heart's desire!"

Alassin gives a contemptuous little laugh. "First, you let me out," she
says.

The bead curtain behind him twitches. At once Mr Cheng slams the door and
turns. His wife is there. He blushes guiltily.

"Well? Did you get any sense out of her?"

"Darling... give me time. Five more minutes... please!"

Mrs Cheng's mouth sets in a hard line. She jerks her head in disdain, and
wheels back to attend to the customers.

When he is sure that she is gone, Mr Cheng reopens the cellar door. The
brilliance of the light still shocks him.

"Yes... all right... You can come out. Anything you say, Alassin. You shall
sleep in the best bed..."

"You're just saying that!" Alassin's voice is sceptical, petulant. The light
seems to glow brighter than ever.

"No! No!" Mr Cheng sounds frantic. Obscurely, he knows that the light is not
good for him; but she cannot be allowed to keep it. "Just come out! Please!
If I grant your heart's desire... will you lend me your lamp? Just for a
little while?"

"If you let me out..." Alassin seems to be in no hurry. "...I just might..."

Mr Cheng breathes a sigh of relief. This seems to be working. "Anything,
Alassin. You have only to ask."

"Would you grant me three wishes, then?"

"Yes, yes, if only you will give me your lamp!"

"I thought you said 'lend'." Alassin's tone is light, mocking.

"Yes, just for a few minutes only!" Mr Cheng cannot conceal his desperation.

"But you will grant my three wishes first?"

"Yes! The three wishes first! Anything you desire! I promise!"

There is a quiet little laugh, and the light begins to subside. As Mr Cheng
watches, it fades into a dull, warm, red glow; and presently, the cellar is
quite dark again.

And then, noiselessly, Alassin comes up the stairs. She moves like a dancer.
Her flesh is pale, ghostly against the darkness: he sees how beautifully it
flows over her bones. Her mouth is soft. Her eyes are round and staring. His
heart pounds.  He dares not lay a hand on her.

She pauses and stares at him a moment. Her eyes are black, fierce with
anger. But her hand is gentle, as she extends one finger to his cheek, and
scratches it languorously with her nail.

Mr Cheng looks at her. He is speechless. He cannot move.

She looks at him. Her eyes burn, but her voice is cool.

"No," she says. "It is mine."

She turns and walks out.  She moves beautifully. She is like a princess:
untouchable.

Mrs Cheng bursts through the bead curtain. Her husband is standing stupidly
by the open cellar door, as if in a trance.

"She just walked out! Cool as you please! And oh, that look she gave me! How
she frightens me!  But why do you just stand and stare like that?  Tell me:
what happened?"

Mr Cheng holds up his hands soothingly. "My dear, you will see: everything
will be all right."

Mrs Cheng is beside herself. "What have you done?" She rises on her toes,
clenching her fists.  "You bastard, what have you done?"

* * *

Moral: Ye who dance not / Know not what we are knowing.
