Nothing but a Nightmare

The polished marble floors were not tread on by Genie. They did, however, reflect his blue bulk as it floated like a nervous nanny just to the right of the throne.

The throne had been empty for a month now. The Sultan was gone, and Jasmine was beginning to look more like a skeleton and an owl’s sad offspring than the desert flower Al would be missing. And no wonder. She’d had to watch Genie’s best bud, THE wonder kid himself, traipse of to actual war while she stayed behind. And then who up and poofs out of existence without so much as a magic trail to follow? Her daddy, the Sultan!

“Not a-one.” He answered, feeling every bit as blue as he looked.

Genie caught sight of his own worried face in the shiny floor below. Look at that. Matching his voice, the genie felt he looked like a deflated balloon. Was it just him, or was he losing his glow?

Quicker than a shooting star, the djinn morphed from his red-sashed simple form into one wearing a brown satchel over one shoulder and a matching mailman’s cap. In an exaggerated accent, the magical being quipped, ”I do declare, I’m not the only one losing faith in the Agrabahian postal service!” He glanced up from throwing envelopes left and right, wishing he could see a smile on her face. It was always a little harder to cheer the Princess up when she got in a funk. Made him miss Al.

The Genie transformed back into his honest self in a shower of sparks he didn’t feel. Tapping two fingers together nervously, he floated closer, anxious to be of some help. ”Hey, chin up, Jas,” In a rare, bipolar show of brotherly affection, one blue knuckle gently raised the heart-shaped face to peer earnestly into it. ”Al’s gotta be working about as hard as you have, over there. And you better believe he’ll come flyin’ back when he hears...the news.”

The scowl returned, and he gave her a playful look. This time he exploded into his Agrabahian woman form, complete with overdone makeup and big blue curves. ”An’ then, oooo, honey, are we gonna nail him to the wall!” A mirage of Aladdin’s photo, autographed and framed like a teen idol, flashed into existence and Genie wagged a finger at it. ”You don’t call, you don’t write! Nothin!” That oughta cheer her up. These were the jokes.

Kerpwing! went the sound of Genie’s sparkled dusting back into his original appearance again. Big eyes were rolling. ”Hey, the parrot probably got out while the getting was good. Eh, who ordered the entreé of cowardice, with a side of greed? Pairs nicely with our wine flavor tonight, ‘Eaud to AVOIDING CONFLICT!’ Oh, that’s right—THE PARROT.” No sooner had he zapped himself into a slimmer, waitor-version of Genie than the galoot was back to himself, shouting at the top of sarcastic lungs.

Ten thousand years and there were few friends more annoying and disrespected than Iago, in Genie’s looping memory.

But it was all bluster to hide the sheepishness Genie was restraining himself from changing into. He heaved a big, gusty sigh of his own and swirled around to stand in front of Jasmine. He even manifested legs and stood before the Princess as humbly as possible.

One round indigo arm curved to run his neck, Al-like. ”Truth is, Princess, my uh...magical tracking abilities have been fading. I’m not bound to the lamp anymore, but...doesn’t seem like ‘phenomenally cosmic powers’ are bound to me, either.” His tone would’ve been light and cheery. He loved his freedom. But he would’ve been in shackles again if it meant helping Jas find her loved ones.

Genie straightened up, as if Jasmine’s little hand lent more light to his bulbous body. He extended his wrists and transformed them into a cheerful shower of playing cards. . ”Heh-hey, minor magic I can do. Still got a few tricks up my sleeve! It’s just, on, uh...” Now he was a bizarrely familiar, huggable ballon figure, sporting small hole eyes and a flashing rectangular signal in the corner of his chest, ”Llllowww batteryyy!”

When he’d popped back to his djinn form, the ponytail drooped in animated sadness. Round eyes were their most apologetic.

What they took in was her appearance. The poor kid. He was really going to have to give Al a talking to about ‘the power of presence.’ And how to NOT GHOST YOUR GIRLFRIEND. Especially when her loveable doughball of a father disappeared on her. She looked worse for wear.

”Look, Jas...I may not be all-seeing anymore. But maybe you oughta get some sleep. I don’t need a microscope to see the bags under those eyes.” Sympathetic BFF Genie was back and holding a phantom mirror up for the girl to see, ”Honey, you really gotta take care of yourself first. Don’t want the boy-toy coming home to a woman wasting away! Let’s get you some beauty sleep; I’m talking TLC, the works.”

When she looked up the forlorn woman would find herself in a fuzzy bathrobe and matching bunny slippers. He’d thought about going with pink, but blue was much more Jasmine’s color.[/b]

Genie felt himself swirled through and allowed his form to evaporate with all of the illusions he’d laid around Jasmine. It matched how he felt; easily scattered, about as useful as a bag of hot air. Only his eyes stayed visible. They shone with sympathy, following the Princess and watching her back.

When she turned back toward him, she looked scared. Genie had seen plenty of masters in his time. Humans tended to think big for their futures and come out meaner, smaller than the living space in his lamp. But not Al, and not his wife. Heroism, eagerness to please, to help others, to see and appreciate everything the wide world had to offer.

These humans were larger than life.

But he’d never seen Jasmine look so shaken.

Genie floated closer and took her hands, engulfing the little chocolate ones in his big blue mitts. They used to be shackled, before Jasmine had given Al the self-worth he needed to set a goofy djinn free. Talking about it would help her. ”Yeesh. Nightmares. Believe me, I’ve had my share. The worst ones always seem to come back—couldn’t get the one about the singing penguin out of my head in a thousand years.” The rueful tone dissipated and Genie’s ponytail swished as he shook himself. ”Tell me about yours?”