Part 21

          The jinn (or djinn, or genies) turn out to be a pretty interesting concept, actually.  According to the Qu'ran and Islamic tradition, you've got men who are physical with free will, jinn who are spiritual with free will, and angels who are spiritual without free will.  After being created, Allah ordered his other creations to bow to Adam, since mankind was supposed to rule over the others.  One of the jinn, Iblis, refused to do so, got kicked out of Paradise, and earned the name Shaytan.  Aside from that, it sounds like the jinn are pretty equivalent to the servant-spirits that turn up in old stories of magic, able to travel at high speeds, imitate people, interact with the physical world by moving things around, that kind of thing.  Not by any means all-knowing though, and definitely fallible.  They're also connected with Solomon's magic abilities, in the Qu'ran and in the Book of Solomon.  Which is apparently one of a million apocryphal books of the Bible that were left out at one point or another.
          I spent a childhood in Sunday School, but it never occured to me that there were other things that were considered Scripture at one point but not any more.  Turns out that's the main focus of the "Bible secrets!" book I'd picked up.  I'm taking this one with a grain of salt, but I'd only meant to use it as a jumping-off point anyway, in case one avenue or another sounded interesting.  The Book of Solomon I'm definitely curious about - the Bible paints him as such a wise and knowledgable man, but other traditions add magician/wizard to his titles.  Was the magic a later addition on their part, or a later subtraction on mainstream Christianity's part?  It's sounding like there's a decent bit of magic in some of the variant Jewish traditions that I'd had no idea about - wonder if that went for early versions of Christianity, too?  The way I was taught it, nothing had changed since Jesus spoke the words, but... I guess it makes sense that it has, given how differently the U.S. Constitution has been interpreted, and that hasn't been around anywhere near as long as the Bible!
          There's another book, the Book of Enoch, that sounds interesting too - it involves a group called the Watchers, who, I think, were the angels that slept with human women in that bit of Genesis right before the Flood.  But the story's a little different in Enoch, the giants that showed up pre-Flood were the offspring of those women and angels.  They ate up all the food and used up the land's resources, and apparently fought a lot, and because of all this evil in the world, God sent the Flood to wipe them out.  This served double-duty, also being a punishment for the fallen Watchers, since they weren't supposed to go having sex and teaching mankind about magic and makeup (really!).
          I haven't even finished with the arbitrary books I picked up, and here I've found all kinds of possibilities for other things Meres and Azal could be.  (Though they seem a little smarter than the jinn are usually portrayed as being.)  Laughing, I set the books aside and jam my palms against my eyes, rubbing them as I shake my head.  All of this assuming that things other than humans exist in this world, that I've been seeing them, that I've been bopping around through time like a kid on a pogo stick.
          I throw my sketchbook back into my bag and grab a water bottle out of the fridge.  I remember the plastic bag still on my kitchen floor, and pull out the small metal hand-rake I picked up at the hardware store the other day.  I'm going to go do some weeding in the Mason's gardens, and ground myself in the physical world for awhile.

          "...all those people, all those lives, where are they now? With loves, and hates, and passions just like mine; They were born and then they lived and then they died..."  I stop half-singing along with the song, pausing the music for a minute as I flop backwards to sit on the colorful tile walkway, wiping the back of my arm across my forehead.  "There!  That's much better."  I've been working my way out from the central fountain, clearing out the obvious weeds and dead stuff as best I can.  There are still plenty of plants in the space that I can't decide if they're supposed to be there or not, but burdock and tickweed and goldenrod, I can pretty safely remove.  Although, goldenrod does mean "encouragement", so I'm keeping an eye on the plants surrounding it, in case it was intentional in spots.  (I couldn't believe it when I noticed burdock on one of my lists too - "importunity," which means persistently demanding.  Given how irritating its silly little burrs are, I guess I can see that.  But what an irritating thing to have show up in your bouquet!)
          "It is!  How long have you been working on this place?"
          I jump half a freaking mile - I didn't notice any blurring, but maybe I was too focused on what I was doing?  No, looking around me, I see the pile of weeds beside me on the path, I'm still in my own time.  Then who on earth is talking to me?  Turning around as I remove my headphones, I see a guy with a camera slung over his shoulder.  Right around my age, give or take a bit.  Grey college t-shirt and khaki shorts.  Blond hair that's a little in need of a trim.  Curious brown eyes behind glasses.
          "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you!"
          "That's alright, I can be so oblivious when my headphones are on."
          "You been working on the gardens here long?"
          I laugh a bit at this.  "Well, yes and no.  I've been in and out all summer, doing a project on the family that used to live here, the mansion and the gardens.  But I didn't start trying to weed until recently, it's pretty daunting."
          "I'll say... But this section's looking a lot better already.  I've been by a few times this summer to get some photos, and--- actually, you're not Kimberly, are you?"
          "I am..."  I say this as enough of a question that he understands I'm also asking "why do you ask and how do you know?"
          "I'm Brandon - I've been doing the reprints of the old glass plates for the historical society, who have told me a million times that I should meet you."
          I laugh, brushing off my hands on my jeans.  "They've been telling me the same about you!"  I start to stand up - but, sure enough, my feet have completely fallen asleep, and so I stagger and lurch off to the side, sitting back down again.
          "You okay??"  He darts forward, offering a hand, but I wave it away with a wry smile.
          "I'm alright.  Feet fell asleep.  Guess I'd been working on this section longer than I thought.  I'll be good in a minute."
          "If you need a hand, just let me know," he offers with a grin, then shifts the camera on his shoulder a little.  "You going to their meeting next week?"
          "I should be - you're bringing new pictures?"
          "I am!  Well, you know, old pictures, but, new to everyone else.  I can't believe what good shape all those plates were in after so many years, it's been such a priviledge to get to work with them."
          "You did the prints for the art gallery too, right?  Those looked absolutely stunning."
          "Thanks!  You a photographer at all?"
          "Only casually.  I took a class one semester, so I know just enough about developing and printing to know that I don't want to do it anymore!  I still take digital shots like a spazz, mostly as references to use for drawings later though."
          "That's right, they told me you were doing drawings.  Any plans to do a show or something?"
          "Nothing concrete, it's been in the back of my mind, but I've never really tried doing something like that on my own, just submitted to a few group shows in college."
          "It's a lot easier than you'd think - well, in a small town like this anyway, I'm sure big galleries are another story, but I've never been that brave.  Anyway, Mary would probably set the whole thing up for you if you gave her the slightest hint you wanted to, that woman is a whirlwind."
          "She totally is."  The pins and needles have abated to the point where I can stand, so I get to my feet, and vainly attempt to brush the dirt and grime off my hands, arms, and pants.  I don't even want to think about how I must look right now, a sweaty dirty mess from hours spent in the weeds and soil.  I kick the pile of weeds into a slightly neater pile, then straighten up and look at the garden beds ringed around the fountain.  "...I guess I've made a little progress, but it's nothing toward what this place used to look like."
          "It was really incredible, wasn't it?"
          I jump a little - then remember, duh, he's been printing all of the old photos, of course he knows what it looked like when the Masons were here.  "Are there any more photos of the Masons, or the estate, in the new pictures?"
          "You'll just have to come to the meeting and find out!"
          "Oh come on."
          "Nope.  Not telling."  He's grinning, his eyes sparkling behind the glasses.  I'll admit, he's a pretty cute guy.  Obviously nothing like the striking magnetism of Meres, but I'm finding that a relief right about now.  Nice, normal, everyday kind of attractive.
          "...I'd be more annoyed about this, but it occurs to me that you might not have any idea even if there were, I've probably done a little more research on them than you have.  And by a little, I mean I've been obsessed for months."
          "Understandably though, it's a great ghost story.  And such a beautiful place, it's been wonderful for my own photos, I'm sure it's been great inspiration for your drawings, too.  Are you showing it as it is now, the whole beauty-in-decay thing, or trying to capture it as it was in its glory days?"
          "Mostly as it was, but a little bit of both.  A little bit of everything, really, there have been so many interesting images that have turned up for me."  ...I need to watch it.  I'm feeling way too comfortable in the presence of a fellow artist, and I'm going to wind up saying something that I can't explain by way of normal human experiences.