The Genie of the Marble

The genie of the marble shows Heaven and Hell to Sara.

The Genie of the Marble

Sara was bored.

Mom and Dad were out at some big grown-up party, and Michelle was in the living room, stretched out on the sofa watching TV and crunching an apple.

Sara idly picked up Great-Grandpa's marble bag and tossed it loosely from hand to hand. He'd given it to her on her birthday, last April; it had been lying in the corner since. Marbles, what fun were marbles anyway? They didn't do anything.

She unfastened the strap and poured out a handful. Some of them were somewhat pretty, she had to admit to herself. Reds and blues played together in a swirl of color. She emptied the rest of the bag into her lap to pick out the prettiest.

The last one out of the bag caught her eye immediately. It was larger than the others, but not by much;
Its colors set it apart. It never looked the same color twice; she turned it over and looked again. The dancing pattern inside the marble seemed to shift and refocus into something new. Sara held the marble in fascination, rolling it between her fingers as she watched the colors change.

"Do you like that one?" said a new voice.

Sara looked up in astonishment. Seated Cross-legged in front of her was a boy, about her age, smiling peacefully at her as she held the marble.

"Who are you?" she asked. "How did you get in here?"

"You called me, so here I am," the boy responded.

"I didn't call anybody," Sara told him. "Did Michelle let you in?"

"Your Great-grandfather brought me to you," he said, pointing to the marble still in Sara's hand.

Sara glanced down and was astonished to see that the beautiful marble was now a clear glass ball.

"I am the genie of the marble," the boy told her. "What is your command?"

"Is this a joke?" Sara demanded, scooping up all the marbles and dropping them back into the bag. "Dad told me there aren't any such things as genies."

"Your father was mistaken," he said. "Your Great-grandfather knew about me, and he decided that you would be a fair master for me. Name your wish, and I will do it if it is within my power."

"You mean you're supposed to grant me wishes, like in all the fairy tales?" Sara asked. "Dad said those are all make-believe."

"Not all of them are."

"All right, if you're for real, grant me a wish then. Let's see. I wish I had a big piece of chocolate cake!"

"That wish is not within my power."

Sara shook her head. "It figures. What can you do?"

"I can show you anyplace you want to see, on this earth or off of it."

"Off of it? What's off the earth?"

The boy waved his arms expansively. "More than I can
describe. All things that are dreamed of, but rarely seen; all things that are never spoken, and rarely heard; all things that cannot be touched and are rarely felt."

Sara puzzled over this for a few minutes. "You mean, like heaven or hell?" she asked finally. "My friend Jody tried to explain heaven and hell to me yesterday, and she used words similar to what you just said."

The boy snapped his fingers, and the room changed.

Sara blinked in surprise. She was standing in a large, square room, whose walls were adorned with various Sesame Street characters. Scattered about the floor were several toys, most not being used; one small red-haired boy seated in the middle was playing with what seemed to be the newest toy in the room, a shiny yellow toy car.

Several other children watched the one child with his toy, waiting, it seemed, for their chance. All the children in the room ignored Sara.

"Where are we? How did you do that?" she asked of the mysterious boy beside her.

"Watch," said the genie, calmly.

A door on the far side of the room opened, and a grownup entered, carrying a brand-new toy truck. Sara admired it from across the room--it was very pretty and shiny new. The grownup handed the toy truck to the nearest little boy and went out the way she'd come. The lucky recipient gasped in surprise at his new treasure and turned it over in his hands, grinning proudly as he opened and closed the little doors and swung the cab left and right.

The red-haired boy who had been playing with the toy car had watched this exchange with an unreadable expression, and now dropped his car and walked over to try to grab the truck out of the other's hands. They tussled for a few moments, then the red-haired one bopped the other on the nose a good one, causing him to drop the truck in surprise. The toy truck flew out, landing at Sara's feet, and all the children in the room suddenly dashed over to pile up on top of it.

"Hey!" Sara yelled at the pile of small children before her. "Stop that! Someone could get hurt!" But they acted as if they did not hear her.

The pile began to disperse. Most of the children wandered away, sulking, while the lucky little girl at the bottom of the pile waved her new truck triumphantly and wandered off into the corner to play with it alone.

The genie snapped his fingers again.

"Don't do that!" Sara said to him. "Where are we this time?"

Sara looked around. She was in the very same room. The same characters were painted on the walls, even the same children. No, wait--none of these children were sulking alone; they played quietly in small groups. There weren't any toys lying around unused.

"I don't get it," Sara said to the genie. "Are these the same kids, or aren't they?"

"Keep watching," he said.

The door on the far side of the room opened, and again a grownup entered, carrying the same shiny red truck. Once again, the grownup handed the toy truck to the nearest child and walked out the way she'd come. Again, the boy gleefully admires the truck and places it on the floor to begin playing with it.

A little red-haired boy in the center of the room, playing quietly with a yellow toy car, handed the car to his companion and walked up to the boy with the new truck.

"What are you playing?" he asked of the boy.

The boy with the truck looked up at the redhead. "This is a grocery truck taking groceries into town," he said. "See, here's where it takes all the groceries. Here's the way it has to go."

"Can I play?" asked the redhead. "I'll be the truck driver, and you can be the man who runs the store and tells me where I have to drive it."

"Okay," said the other boy, handing over the truck. "Here's the road, and here's the store." He traced a winding path on the carpet, and the red-haired boy moved the truck along it, making vroooming noises with his lips.

The genie snapped his fingers once more.

Sara looked around her room, soaking up the feeling that she was back home and everything was normal again. The door to the room opened, and Michelle walked in carrying a big piece of chocolate cake. "Mom said that if you were quiet and did not pester me, I should give this cake to you”.