The Summoning

The Summoning

Lamu is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. It is like something out of the past, hidden in a dream. That is not to say that the island is without flaws. There are open sewers, thousands of feral cats, arid saltpans, and tourists. Yet it has a charm of its own, an old and magic charm that radiates from the fourteenth century buildings that still stand. The magic pours from the mosques during the call to prayer. The magic builds each early evening, as the sun touches the ocean in a blinding green flash.
This evening was no different. As the stars came out, a heady scent filled the air. Night blooming Jasmine opened its flowers. The pwani was filled with the sounds of fishermen setting out for the night. There was the creak and slap of wooden ships, the calls of the sailors, punctuated with the occasional donkey bray. All seemed well in Lamu town.

One street up, a candle was lit in the Banana Man’s hut. This was highly unusual, and caught the attention of every neighbor. It is difficult to do anything in Lamu without being watched. One’s neighbors are captive entertainment, and peeping is a local pastime. Several people remarked on the light, yet none were able to guess what was afoot.
The wife of the Banana Man had arranged an elaborate ritual. She had collected the very best Hal-ud incense, a beautiful glass bottle, and a solid silver stopper. All of these were laid out on a small wooden table. She was elaborately decorated in her finest jewelry, a fine silk bui-bui, with intricate henna drawings on her hands and feet.
The Banana Man was his usual self, perched in the corner. He was extremely worried. The last time he had seen his wife so worked up, terrible things had occurred. She was a great maker of magic and had demonstrated her ability to control members of the Djinn community. He fervently wished she would stop.
Sensing her husband’s unrest, the wife looked across the candle flame and met his eyes. He felt her mind commanding him to be still and calm. She stood and lit the incense in a brass bowl. When it began to melt she poured some into the glass bottle. The rest she set on the floor, driving the smoke up and about with great sweeping gestures. She chanted softly, filling the room with weird melodies.
The incense was thick and left the man dizzy, unprepared for what happened next. First it seemed the smoke was swooping left then right, like a giant bat. Then it filled the room, taking away all the air. Choking, he looked for his wife, trying to see her across the flame. Her form wavered indistinct and glittering. The smoke dived at her again, but she fended it away. The Banana Man could see the shining object in her hand, luring the smoke. It could have been anything, for she wielded it like a sword, this way and that.
The smoke grew more determined; it collected into itself and coiled around the woman. The Banana Man gasped, surely his wife would perish! She brandished the object again, now he could see it was the glass bottle, she had removed the stopper. The honey scent of the melted Hal-ud poured out, luring the Djinn. It was being driven mad by the smell. It hurled itself at the opening, but was too large to fit inside the opening. The Wife laughed and waved the bottle again.
The Banana Man could see now that this was a trap. The Djinn was infuriated and intoxicated. It wanted to suck up the sweetness of the Hal-ud and was denied. It coiled itself thinner and thinner, wrapped around the wife like a gossamer snake. She continued her melodic chanting, teasing the Djinn with the precious bottle. Her gold jewelry glowed and rattled, her feet danced a terrible rhythm, the Djinn was overwhelmed. In a dense point it sought the opening and vanished inside. There was a sound of thunder as the Wife brought the stopper home. The Djinn was trapped.