The Round Table and the Oil of Abramalin
an excerpt

<“I’m just not interested in anything but doing a little kitchen magic,” Kali shuffled her feet, crossing and uncrossing them, cleared her throat a couple of times. That stuff Gordo does is into just not my thing. I’ve got kids to take care of and anyway I have to work most of the time. I mean, who has ever seen an angel anyway, not me!”
Abram could not resist, “so you are saying that I do not exist”?
Kali glared at him. “You know what I mean, and anyway, you said you were a Genie.
“No difference,” he retorted. “Well, except that I am more fire than air.”
“Oh get serious Abram,” Kali said.
“But, ah, he’s right,” said Leland seriously. “Genie’s are the same as angels. At least according to some sources. Angels are the light beings, Genies are dark. In any case, they are both supernatural and most like one another than all the other entities. Just a step beyond human beings.”
Father Bouchante’ interrupted, “rather like a guardian angel, I suspect, since they seem to be known for granting wishes. Some say we all have one. I’ve always felt I did. Something like that little light inside, or the voice that tells all, sees all, knows all, that we never listen to anyway.”
“Well, that’s just cute, I’ve had all of the voo doo hoo doo I care to be around, just living with Gordo ! ! !
“You certainly don’t need a Gene, well, unless he is going to do your bidding” Kali’s cousin interjected with a laugh. Now, Crystal wasn’t really Kali's cousin, she was Gordo’s, but she had adopted Kali and clung to her like the mother she almost never had.
“It’s one thing to see spirits, but for them to be walking around living life just like we do, well, that’s bunk,” Kali continued.
“It might be a she, the Genie I mean,” interrupted Leland.
Staza noticed the dimple just to the side of Abram’s full lips. She didn’t remember it being there before. She wanted to just, reach out and touch it, touch it to see if it were . . . real.
Leland continued, “There are male and female Genies. The Arabs believe they marry and have children and can even go to Paradise. Of course there are seven heavens and I suppose Paradise is just one of them. And . . . they have the power of invisibility and can be hiding around for years, in a rug or a bottle, or shape shifting into an animal or something else.”
“OK then, Omar,” Gordo said sarcastically, “just where have you been hiding anyway, before you got to Lubbock. “
Abram, cast a sideways glance at Gordo, one might almost think of it as a warning not to disrespect his name. For Abram, naming was essential to the being of an entity; he was not an Omar. He was not fond of Gordo in the first place, this latent remark had sealed even the slight jar in the door he had courteously left open for him. Gordo was open season for sport as far as Abram was concerned at this point.
“That’s a fair question Abram,” Silver attempted to smooth over Gordon’s clearly petulant remark. She was well acquainted with Abram, having visited in his home many times and he was clearly a remarkablely talented man in every respect. He was by trade a jeweler, and was an expert in time pieces, but his greatest talent was his unquestionably perfect voice.
She was also well acquainted with Gordo, and this was the very caustic wile he had about him that she tired of so easily these days.
“We’re all curious why you aren’t living the good life on the opera circuit. It does seem seem a bit like you’re almost invisible.” Silver side stepped Gordo’s hateful remark legitimizing the metaphor he had begun.
“My dear Silver, how wise you are; I could hardly have hoped to have kept that a secret from you. Alas, I am outed. I only appear at Magick coffee, when I am working, or when I am singing with the Chorale. The rest of the time, I’m invisible.”