The red scarf flapped out the open window as he drove. The truck was rumbling and squeaking with the lack of exhaust and shocks. Off-color spray paint was being eaten by the sleepless rust. Someone always stopped walking on the main street to watch and catch the rippling wake of the vehicle. The uncovered bed of the truck caught the bouncing plastic bags from the grocery store. Jinn was about to break one of his father's sternest laws -- he was going to the library.
Jinn's mother died in labor because of Jinn's enormous size. His father, who had a stubborn scent of sulfur, reminded Jinn of that daily. They lived on a farm alone and together. Jinn's father was as mean as Jinn was massive. No television, radio, newspapers, magazines, or books ever spent time in their house-hold, except the Bible.
Jinn's mind was never cut by thoughts. He did what his father told him and then turned off like a robot. Ideas of the ways others lived never made him think. He truly was an uncarved block. Though his legs were bigger than any local tree he was timid. Knowledge had yet to seduce him. But almost like the innate feelings of procreation, he decided it was time for him to become a man.
Jinn was larger than large. His heart alone weighed more than any house cat. Though unbeknownst to him, his hands were larger than any baseball glove. He, even at his young age, was the largest man to ever live.
His boots were muddy. With each lumbering step clumps of earth fell on the concrete stairs. His heart was pounding under flannel. He walked in on a woman sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by small fidgety children. He leaned in the door way and listened. The wall creaked from his girth. The women heard the sound and was greatly surprised at the enormous young man in front of her. She caught her self staring and asked if he cared to join them. This spooked him and Jinn wanted to hide. He shook his head no, and moved behind a book case that only came up to his waist. He sat down with his knees crossed and fore head still in her view. And listened to her read.
"And the Mocking Master said, 'Grrrrr,'" the woman went on reading. "The Bear asked the Mocking Master if he was a bear", she held the book open wide. Jinn had never seen a mocking master and rolled over on to his belly. Inching his way he began peaking around the book case. He barley blinked as he heard the story. Jinn's mouth was open when the Mocking Master saw him self in a mirror. Then yelled "Hooray" when the Mocking Master no longer imitated others and just was himself.
He felt happy and embarrassed at his out burst. The little mousey Liberian walked over to him and asked what type of books he liked. Jinn slumped at the question. The Liberians glasses were thick and Jinn saw his own face in her eyes.
"I like that book!", Jinn said pointing to the book sitting on the rocking chair.
She smiled "Do you have a library card"?
Jinn slumped lower. She put her small hand on his large arm, "Want me to show you around". Jinn picked her off the ground before he knew what he was doing.
"WHOAAP", the Liberian let out from being swept off her feet. His hands easily meet wrapped around her torso.
"Wow, such enthusiasm", she said as she was being put down.
Jinn smiled, yet with his bottom lip out do to embarrassment.
They walked through the children's section first. She pointed out works by Roald Dahl, Maurice Syndack, and Judy Blum. Jinn stopped to look at the covers of the many "Goose Bumps" books, but they made him think of his father. He put them down quickly. And he exploded a bean bag chair.
They went up stairs. Jinn saw newspapers and many magazines. They went through Romance, Crime, Auto-biographical, Philosophy, Religion, Westerns, Arts and Crafts, Sports, and rested in Fiction. She told Jinn that she need to go back to the children's section, but said they were three other women to help if he needed it.
Jinn left shortly after that, over-whelmed, but came back the next day. And the day after. And the and after.
Jinn made up reasons to get back into town, after awhile not even saying why. Every day he found a new reason to fall in love or a nobel reason to die. He would get wet with Tom Sawyer, smoke and drink with Steppenwolf, write poems with Lao Tzu, and eat chocolate with Charlie. He moved down isles picking up every book and reading almost all. Even when Jinn opened a copy of the Old Testament he was astounded by the book mark. "Every thing you need to know is already in books".
One day when Jinn was in the basement, having read almost everything on the top two levels, he notice a book on the top of the cabinets. It was heaped in dust. No one besides Jinn had ever been tall enough to see up there. Jinn sat on the ground and the wall creaked behind him. The Liberians up stairs laughed "He found another". They had grown accustom to Jinn's daily presence, and had even begun to look to him for information.
The book was edged in gold and it's cover was scalely, he thought it was very dragonish. Jinn had never seen anything like it. It was much heavier than it looked, though it wasn't very big in Jinn's heads. As he opened it he noticed the lights flicker. He shut it quickly, then laughed at himself for being spooked. The first few pages were blank and as has he was about to turn another seemly blank page Jinn noticed in tiny-tiny letters "Do Not Read This If You Can Not See". Jinn was was quite puzzled, and his heart was beating like the first day he entered his new pseudo-home. He leaned back and the wall grumbled again.
There was no name on the cover, nor even on the title page. No copy-write date, publisher, nor name of author. It was a book that only an un-tamed heart could hear without reading. Jinn found the truest book. As he read he learned how read pages behind covers. To be able to jump from page to page without turning, than book to book. Then after a time he truely could become one with a story. He was living literature. Then when he'd come back to the 'real' world, he would see the missing in others, and know what would bridge a gap for them. He knew how to read a story, but some much more he could see what others needed to have their's be told true. He began to hide in books for the sole purpose of making sure that everyone that came to the Library would walk out with the book they needed. He could easily be the phantom thought of positive residue. The need to read what the soul has been telling the head all the while. Jinn became the real character witness.
In a Sufi story Jinn was the father of happiness. So if some book just
happens to find you, you know who to thank. besos djh
�2003 Daniel J Harris