“I guess so. Sorry for running on like that.”
“No problem. Just as long as I get my innings.”
“Innings?”
“A figure of speech,” he waved. “In this case, it means it’s my turn to talk and your turn to listen. I’ve tried before, but it seems like every time I start, we get interrupted . . . or you get drunk.”
I grimaced at the memory.
“I didn’t mean to get drunk. It’s just that I’ve never. . .”
“Hey! Remember? It’s my turn,” the Djin broke in. “I want to say . . . just a second.”
He made a sweeping gesture with his hand and . . . grew!
Suddenly he was the same size I was.
“There, that’s better!” he said, dusting his hands to gether. “It’ll be a littler harder to overlook me now.” I was about to ask for a full accounting of his “meager” powers, but his last comment had stung me.
“I’m sorry, Kalvin. I didn’t mean to . . .”
“Save it!” he ordered, waving his hand. “Right now it’s my turn. There’ll be lots of time later for you to wallow in guilt. If not, I’m sure you’ll make the time.” That had a nasty sound to it, but I subsided and gestured for him to continue.
“Okay,” he said, “first, last, and in between, you’re wrong, Skeeve. It’s hard for me to believe such a right guy can be so wrong.”
It occurred to me that I had already admitted my confidence in my perception of right and wrong was at an all time low. I didn’t verbalize it, though. Kalvin had said he wanted a chance to have his say, and I was going to do my best to not interrupt. I owed him that much.
“Ever since we met, you’ve been talking about right and wrong as if they were absolutes. According to you, things are either right or they’re wrong . . . period. ‘Was Aahz right to leave?’ . . . Are you wrong to try to bring him back? . . . Well, my young friend, life isn’t that simple. Not only are you old enough to know that, you’d better learn it before you drive yourself and everyone around you absolutely crazy!”