"Alas, no, sir. I am only a very minor jinn and so can do only small favors. The most powerful ones are all tied up with oil shaykhs and big corporations."
"Hm," I said. "If I knew which super-jinn served which corporation, it should affect the securities of that—'
"Ah, no sir, I am sorry; but that information is classified."
"How long does this service last? Is it one of those three-wishes-and-out deals?"
"No, sir. You remain my master as long as you keep the ring. When it passes to another, I pass with it."
"How do you like your job, Habib?"
Al-Lajashi made a face. "It depends on the master, like any other slavery. There is a jinn's liberation movement— but never mind that, sir."
"Is there any way you can end this servile status?"
"Yes, sir. If one of my masters is so grateful for services rendered that he is voluntarily giving me the ring, I am free. But that has not happened in three thousand years. You mortals know a good thing when you see it. You hang on to our service, even when you promise us liberty."
"Let's get down to cases," I said. "There's a concessionaire ..." and I told Habib about the purple pterodactyls. "The next time I take a chance with Maniu's rings, I want to win one of those things."
Al-Lajashi took off his panama hat to scratch his scalp, disclosing a pair of small horns. "I think I can do it, sir. Leave it to me."
"Don't make it too obvious, or he'll get suspicious."
"I understand. Now, sir, pray lie down and resume your nap. I shall not disturb you again today."
I did as he said and woke up normally. I could see no dent in Denise's bed where the soi-disant jinn had sat. I did not think it wise to tell Denise about my experiences. Instead, I worked on my speech to Linda's clubwomen.
The next day was fair and breezy. Maniu was on the beach-, all buried but his arms and head.
"Good-morning, Mr. Maniu," I said. "If you'll pardon my saying so, you give a slightly macabre impression."
"How so, Mr. Newbury?"
"You look as if somebody had put your severed head on top of that pile of sand."
Maniu grinned. "Come to my concession this afternoon, and you shall see that my head is firmly affixed to the rest of me."
So I did. My first three rings stuck at the square sections of the posts. Of my second three, one slipped down all the way. Of my third, two scored. The fourth time, all three rings fell to the base of the posts.
Maniu stared. "My God, Mr. Newbury, you certainly have improved fast! Which pterosaur do you want?"
"That one, please," I said, indicating a long-beaked Pteranodon.
Maniu got down the prize, folded the wings, and showed me how to extend them again. "Come back tomorrow," he said. "You will never repeat this feat, ha-ha!"
"We shall see," I said. I bore my prize home, to the acute discomfort of Denise. She did not like the stares we got on the boardwalk, with that thing under my arm.
The next day, I was back, despite Denise's protest: "Willy, you big pataud, where would you put another of those monstrosities?"
"I'll find a place," I said. "This ganif has challenged me, and I'll show him.
And I did, coming away with a fanged Dimetrodon.
The following day, Maniu was not in his usual place on the beach. I took another nap after lunch and awoke to find al-Lajashi in the room.
"Mr. Newbury," he said, "shall you make another attempt on Mr. Maniu's .prizes?"
"I thought of doing so. Why?"
"There may be difficulty, sir. Mr. Maniu is furious with you for winning two of his lizard-bats. He hardly ever gives one up."
"Stingy fellow! He told me three were won a few days ago."
"He lies. I doubt he has given out one all this season."
"So what?"
"He has rented the services of one of my fellow jann to protect him."
"Does that mean you won't be able to make the rings go over the posts?"
"Oh, I am thinking I can still do it, although not so easily. But this other fellow may make you trouble."
"What sort of trouble?"
"I do not know. But ibn-Musa can surely harass you."
"Why can't you protect me, as the other jinn does Maniu?"
"I cannot be everywhere at once, any more than you can. If he uses a phenomenon on the material plane over which I have no control, I cannot stop him."
"Where did Maniu get his spook? From another ring?"
"No, sir. He leased him from that astrologer on the boardwalk, Swami Krishna. The astrologer's name is really Carlos Jimenez, but no matter. He uses this jinn to make some of his little astrological predictions come true. Are you still determined to try your so-called luck again?"
"I am," I said.
When I bought rings from Maniu and began tossing, the rings did not fly so surely as before. They wobbled about in the air and hesitantly settled over the posts. I spent several dollars before I got my three rings over all three posts. When one ring started to fall to the base of the post, it fell partway, started to rise again, and bobbed up and down a couple of times before completing its descent.
Maniu watched it, chewing his lower lip. I could imagine two invisible entities struggling with the ring, one trying to push it down and the other, to raise it off the post.
I walked off with a fine Rhamphorynchus, the one with a little rudder on the end of its tail. The waxy spikes of Maniu's whiskers quivered like those of a cat.
I wanted to sail. The day after I won my third prize, I found the boat I wanted. It was a sixteen-foot centerboard sloop, the Psyche, which the Ramoth Bay Sailing Club had for rent. Ocean Bay is built on a long spit of land, with the Atlantic on one side and shallow Ramoth Bay on the other.
That day, however, there was a flat calm. Since the boat had no motor, there was no point in taking it out. Instead, I went back to the boardwalk and won another pterodactyl. Maniu hopped up and down with excitement.
"It is unheard of!" he said. "You must have supernatural aid!"
"Don't you want me to play any more?" I asked innocently. He knew perfectly well that I had the help of my jinn—ibn-Musa would have told him—and I knew that he knew.
To tell the truth, I was losing enthusiasm for collecting these bulky objects. I suppose some childish spirit of rivalry kept me trying to put one more over on this con artist.
I surmised that, however much Maniu hated to lose his pterodactyls, neither did he wish to lose the money that my visits brought him, not to mention, the publicity. The prizes probably cost him no more than I paid in throwing fees.
Red-faced, Maniu mastered his conflicting feelings. "No, no, nothing like that," he said. "Come as often as you like. I am a fair man."
That evening was the women's club meeting. We got dressed up and had dinner at Linda's house with her and her husband. They brought us up on the local gossip: how one of the councilmen had been caught with his hand in the municipal till, and about the motorcycle gang suspected of local depredations. Then we went to the little auditorium.
I am no public speaker. With a written text, I can give a fair rendition, remembering to look up from the paper now and then and not to drone or mumble. But without a manuscript, rhetorically speaking, I fall over my own big feet. This time, I had my talk, written out, in the inside pocket of my jacket.
When the ladies assembled, there was the usual tedious hour while minutes were read, the treasurer's report was presented, delinquent members were dunned for their dues, committees presented reports, and.so on.
At last the chairman (1 absolutely refuse to say "chairperson") called me up and gave me a flowery introduction: "... and so Mr. Wilson Newbury, first vice president of the Harrison Trust Company, will speak to you on the importance of trusts to women."