Sometimes some sounds are not what they seem to be. For instance, a cry for help may be an instance of playful abandonment and not at all a real cry in a crisis. At other times a cry for help may be just that: A desperate cry to get some help.
This time it was.
Angela almost cried her lungs out when she felt the unknown presence in her bedroom. Nobody was expected in that place and nobody was welcome, but still, here he was, some testosterone-reeking male individual.
"Let go of me, let go of me," she yelled. All he did was to grunt while at the same time feeling up her entire body, from top to toe. It wasn't especially erotic, more like an extended frisking at a police station, but Angela wasn't too sure what was going
When he had finished his investigation he let go of her with a contemptuous snort. "Not you," a deep male voice said, "no, you're all wrong."
This sort of enraged Angela although she would have called her feelings something else if only she had been able to find the appropriate word. "What ... what ...," she stuttered. "How dare you ... and who are you."
"You wouldn't know me," the voice said, "you're not whom I thought you were."
Angela kept quiet for some minutes, then she said, sneaky as always: "May I help you find the one you're looking for? Who is she?"
"Golden hair, big, blue eyes, very funny and always rebellious, never listens to her parents. Ahhh, yes, she is wonderful, my little Angela."
"What do you mean, I am Angela and I used to be all you said."
"Golden hair, you??!!"
"Yes, before it turned auburn and then grey. As a child I had golden hair."
"But ... but ... you're so very, very old," the voice said, full of disgust.
"I'm 70," Angela said, "and yes, that's old."
"Well, I'm more than 2500 years old," the voice said plaintively, "to me 70 years is nothing, but Angela was five and we had such fun. I wanted to see her and to have that fun again."
Angela didn't speak for quite a while as many pictures of her childhood kept forming in her mind. "Fun", had that been "fun"? No, it hadn't even been acceptable. If it hadn't been for her make-believe-friend Dragon everything would have been grey on grey. Beginning
to see this creature as her lost friend Dragon she relaxed in fond memories of their friendship and she decided to sound him out.
"OK, what did you find so fun in her life?"
"She never did what was expected in her and she never obeyed orders ..."
No, she never slept with her uncle or cousins, she never stole goods for the family, but neither did she tell about their crimes toward her and everybody else. What had that misery to do with being "naughty" or "having fun"?
"I think I know the Angela, you're talking about, but she wasn't naughty, only a little rebellious."
"She was wonderful, and so very pretty, like an angel or something like that."
He sounded quite nostalgic and Angela decided to tell him.
"I think that I'm your friend Angela, but you've got it all wrong. It wasn't a fun time, it was all too rough on a child like me."
"She promised to stay my friend forever and ever, but she disappeared."
- Yes, Angela thought, I was sent away to have the baby of my damn brother and I still hate him for it.
"She had problems," she said, "many grave problems."
""Problems?" Let me talk to those who gave her problems, I shall soon make them stop bothering her."
- I wish you had, she thought, but you too disappeared.
"First of all, let's think of one thing. It's long since you knew her, more than 60 years, so she has changed into an elderly woman."
He breathed a deep sigh: "How can I get used to that thought when the one I liked was so young and pretty?"
"Because I am your Angela, and now I remember our friendship. You were a very good and nice whatever-you-are."
"Me, I'm a genie, didn't you know that?"
"I was a child, remember, and I didn't know about genies. Do genies always give three wishes to people?"
"Only those we like and who saves us or our individual flask."
Angela couldn't help laughing. "Maybe you pretend to be lost?"
Had it not been that dark in her bedroom she would have seen him blushing at this assumption. "Yes ... well," he stuttered, "what can I say?"
She laughed, totally relieved of her fright. This was good, old Dragon and she never had had cause to fear him. He was a bit rough, but he wouldn't harm her even now.
"If I had had three wishes, I would have made things happen in this family."
He was surprised and it showed in his voice. "What would you change, everything was so perfect?"
She felt exasperated and gave up the idea of confiding in him. He would never understand what she had been through as a child.
"Well," she said, "you wish I were the Angela you knew, but actually there is such a person, only she is not me, but my granddaughter, Sheila."
"Ohhh," he exclaimed, "and she likes to have fun, she never obeys anybody ..."
She drew a deep sigh, but only said: "Yes, I suppose so and she resembles me as a child. Her hair is blonde - golden, if you like - and she has big, blue eyes ..."
"How wonderful!" he exclaimed, let's go and see her."
Angela didn't tell him that she herself had never seen this child of a child of incest and rape. No, they had kept her away from her, maybe fearing that she should free her from the clutches of the family.
"I know the address, but haven't been there yet."
"Let's go now!" he yelled into her face, "she will be glad to see us."
- Well, she thought, I shall be glad to see YOU, face to face, and perhaps relive one of the few fond memories from my cursed childhood.
"OK," she said, "let's go now." She rose to her feet and was instantly grabbed by him. As they went off into Space she caught a glimpse of his face and found that he looked the same as the one she by now remembered: An overgrown, but mentally challenged boy
with a happy face.
When they entered the window of the family of her estranged daughter, Enid, she found the cat and the child at home, but nobody else. - Where is Enid, she thought, if she finds me here she shall get very mad ...
Looking at her granddaughter she was surprised to recognize herself, trait by trait, in her face. - This is surprising, she thought, it's like my childhood-identity. Looking at the genie she saw that he felt the same.
They hurried toward the child who was totally composed at this strange sight of a big mand and a small, unknown grandmother entering the window of the sitting-room. They struck up a conversation at once and when the door opened and let in Enid none of them
"What?!" Enid yelled, "You are not to come here, I've told you so often enough."
"Yes, Enid, you have, but I have a right to see my granddaughter. Besides, come and say hello to my friend, the genie."
"What friend, your'er alone, nobody here unless you are hiding him."
Angela looked at all directions, but she was right, the genie was gone. "Oh," she said, "he has left."
"Just like everybody else," Enid hissed, "nobody in the family likes you."
"No, of course not," Angela said quite calmly, "I know too much about those pigs, those criminals!"
"Don't call them that, you ... you are the criminal, put me up for adoption."
"Yes, to get you away from them, those swine!" Without knowing it she had risen to her feet and suddenly may have looked threateningly. This brought a stirring in the atmosphere, a rustling sound, but she didn't realize what it was until she once more was grabbed
by the genie. Enid screamed with fright and so did little Sheila. The scream of the child enraged the genie and he threw Angela across the room. "You are not my Angela, this is her," he yelled and now he grabbed the girl instead. The little one laughed out
at this unexpected adventure. She clapped her hands which made him even more convinced that she was the right one and not this shrivelled, old lady who didn't know how to have fun. In a second he set off out the window with the laughing child in his arms.
Angela screamt once again and then one more time at the sight of her daughter, who had fainted and was lying on the floor. "No, no, no," Angela yelled out the window, but the genie and the child were nowhere to be seen.
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