I arrived at the airport early in the morning, but it took me almost a day to reach home because of the extensive layovers and having to get to the outskirts from the airport. The sweet warm sunrays were touching my eyes through the cab's semi-opened window.

I returned to the same streets and homes, to the same people who now owed me so many answers. On each side, the houses were separated by yards large enough to accommodate farm animals. All houses were almost the same size though with different personalized exteriors. My father believed that to have the same look as anyone in the neighborhood was akin to wearing the same dress to a ballroom dance. The exterior design was my father's idea and the interior my mother's. The French windows of our two-story house were peeking through the green like mischievous eyes through a long fringe. The house looked almost as if it was natural as it blended into the green garden by the ivy clambering up its side. The skin of grayish red bricks looked scorched by the sun. The garden sloped steeply down toward the house, presenting it in its entire splendor. The house was beautifully symmetrical— two wings stretching to each side, reaching out to touch the fences. I opened the tall black gate and walked up to the door, dragging my luggage behind me. The smell of the fresh roses from my garden reached my nose, welcoming me home. Different kinds of roses were available in our garden and we had a few mango trees too, one of which was fully grown.

I raised my hand to knock at the door, but I stopped. I took a deep breath and forced myself to hit the doorbell. I heard the footsteps of someone running to get the door. It opened slowly and my mother's warm, loving face was revealed. Her huge smile slowly turned into a frown. It seemed like she was happy to see me but wasn't happy too. My father came jogging to the door after her to welcome me back; he was still in his nightwear.

"We got a call from your university this morning. They were upset with your behavior," my mom spoke, holding my shoulder. My father took the luggage from me and held me close to him with his other arm. I forced a smile at them while I felt like bombarding them with all my questions. I never felt so fidgety. And then my father suddenly asked while we walked to the living room, "Why such restlessness, son?"

"Because, you guys only told me half the truth." I replied bluntly and slumped on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly at the carpeted floor.

My mother froze while filling a glass of water. She put it back on the table and stood up straight with her hands folded behind her back, and at that time I wished I could read their minds. When I looked into her eyes, her left eye twitched, which meant she was hiding something from me. I then shifted my gaze to my father and he looked away.

"What is it that you are hiding? Am I a super being? Am I a magician? Or am I a genie? I ignore my powers, act as normal as I can and then every time something new comes up! Now people come and tell me who I am, that means I don't know myself! I never got a normal childhood because of your overprotection. I was never free to do what I wanted because I was taught to be careful, to never to reveal my powers unless the case was extreme. I did everything you asked me to, but I never asked why!" I blabbered all at once.

My father took a deep breath and pulled me in his arms, rested my head on his chest convincingly and rubbed my back to make me calm. He slowly replied, "We wanted to tell you everything but we never knew the right time. You know how much we love you."

I pushed him away and got off the sofa while shouting at his face, "Is now not the right time?"

My mother was at the brink of tears when I walked toward her to ask her the same. She held up her hand and ran upstairs to the bedroom with a hand over her mouth, taking deep breaths. My father glowered angrily at me and followed her upstairs. This was the first time he looked at me that way; maybe I should've been polite. I heard their bedroom door slam close with a loud bang.

I slowly tiptoed upstairs to their room and put my ear to the door. My father was saying, "He needs his answers, Daisy. It's not his fault." She replied in between her sobs, "He doesn't know what we've been through and why are we doing all that over protecting for him. How can he talk to us like that?"

I shouted from outside the door while knocking it, trying to get to their soft side, "Mom, I'm very hungry and exhausted!"

"Go make food for yourself," she stammered. I slowly turned their doorknob open; it wasn't locked from the inside. My father was sitting with her on the bed, her head on his shoulders. She was shaking and shivering in his arms. I felt guilty for yelling.

"Dad, Mom, I was kidnapped but I somehow survived, safely. I had to cancel my research trip even at the cost of spoiling my reputation. My dreams bother me. Google could never satisfy my mind. People think I'm Arab. Also, these powers!" I sat down on my knees by their bed and held their hand to ask for forgiveness.

They could see the regret on my troubled face, so we ended up having a group hug.

My mother wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. She kept on sniffing loudly every two seconds, trying to control her tears. She trembled while she was trying to get up from the bed, but my father held her close in his arms. He seemed extremely concerned for her. My mother left his grip and slowly moved backward on the bed to put herself in the sleeping position. She lied down facing the wall and mumbled between her sniffs, "Darren, can you make something for Solomon? I just want to sleep." My father hummed, bobbing his head up and down. He covered her with her comforter and ran a hand over her hair affectionately before we left.

"Let's go, Soli. We have a lot to talk." My father grabbed my arm and took me downstairs.

"But why is mom reacting this way, as if it's the end of everything?"

"What if it is, Solomon? You don't know anything. Anyway, tell me, what do you want to eat first?"

"Scrambled eggs are all you know to make, dad."

And he forced a smile on his face after my remark.

We both walked into the kitchen and started working together. Although there was silence, we knew a lot of things were going to be discussed at the moment. Breaking the silence, I spoke, "So dad, can you please tell me a little? I trust you will."

"I don't want you to choke. Eat first." He replied bluntly and started breaking the eggs in the bowl. One by one, all the eggs came out bad with a red spot in the yolks. He threw the bowl angrily in the basin and said, "I'll go bring the eggs, you watch over Daisy."

"Dad, I'll go. She needs you."

"You both stay in here until I come back." He ordered with a stern face.

"But I won't even like the food until you tell me what you have been hiding from me for all these fucking years!" I shouted. I slumped on the plastic bar stool near the window. I looked outside at the joyful butterfly fluttering up and down, its wings beating the summer air. It alighted upon a flower and folded its bluish green wings upward. It was as beautiful as painted peacock silk and as delicate as rice paper. Gradually, black tears dripped down my eyes. They looked like black fountain ink spoiling my new t-shirt. I took them in my hands and showed them to my father. "See, just see! What am I? I don't even feel like living anymore."

"You must! You will fight for yourself and for us." My father stammered while he spoke and his face turned pale. I could feel the sweat drench my skin, the throbbing of my own eyes, the ringing screams vibrating in my ears.

He slowly pulled a stool next to me and looked outside the window. He gave a half smile and shifted his stern gaze toward me. He looked straight into my eyes and held my hand in his trembling hands. He asked, "Would you love me the same if you came to know I'm not your father?"

I felt the fear torture my guts, churning my stomach into tense cramps. I nodded and hugged my father tight, "Please don't say that."

He held me by my shoulders and made me look straight into his eyes again as I couldn't look at him in the eye anymore. "I love you, but I have to tell you the truth."

He took a deep breath and clarified, "Your mom and I are best friends. We were always together, like the middle and the index finger, but one day she fell in love with a supernatural creature that was gifted to her by her spiritual grandmother as a reward for all she did for her during her illness. The genie asked her for three wishes for he was freed from the magical trap. He fulfilled her every wish and took extra care of her in that time period."

He forced a false laughter, "Even I was amazed that something like a genie really existed. But it did. I saw the miracles and strongly witnessed supernatural events, except him. I was on my death bed and your mom could only keep him as long as she didn't ask for the third wish. But she spoke it for me, to restore back my health and he had to go back to his land. They saved my life together, and then we found out she was expecting a child. We learned you had some powers like your genie father. Well, we discovered them gradually just like you did. As you grew up, your powers activated too. We had to keep you safe until you learned the truth and knew how to fight for yourself. Khalil and Daisy could not be together after the third wish because of the differences between humans and genies. He is also a great king of their land."

"A king?" I mumbled with a loud gulp. My throat was feeling dry and squeezed out of air. It all seemed like a lie or a fairy tale, but I knew this wasn't a joke. My father gave me a slight nod.

"Does he know I'm there? Does he come to see me?" I spoke even slower.

"Khalil's brother silently comes to check up on you once in a while."

"Wait a minute! You said Khalil, right? They said his name, the fortune teller and the invisible thing. That's why they kidnapped me."

"How did they find you?" My father stood up from the stool with his eyes wide open. He continued with all his courage, "Don't worry. I will protect you and Daisy until my last breath. Nothing can touch you."

"No, this time I will protect you, daddy." I replied as I pulled my father into a tight hug. He kissed me on my cheek and cried in front of me for the first time, covering his face with both his hands, his shoulders trembling up and down. I held him tighter and said, "You taught me everything, you worked hard day and night to make me a good person. I'm even stronger now."

I wiped his warm trickling tears with my fingers. I held his hands and this time I looked into his eye with confidence, "I love you more than anything in this world. Nothing can take away this title of being my father from you or keep you away from me. If I were in your place, I would do the same. Thank you for telling me everything. Also, were you in love with mom when she fell for the genie?" I smiled softly at him.

"Yes, I loved her and I was happy that she was happy. When we got the news of her pregnancy, I asked her to marry me. So, Khalil gave me my life, my love and my heart, Solomon."

My stomach grumbled with hunger, but I didn't want to eat anything until I was satisfied with the answers. "I can't see the genies and I don't know much about them either. What will I do?" I asked nervously. Though strangely, the fear was making me calm.

"I'll tell you when I come back. We have forever to talk." He rolled his eyes, and shouted while walking out of the kitchen, and then I heard the front door screech open and close with a bang.

I had to go up to my mother, hold her in my arms and tell her everything will be fine, that I'll be a better man. I felt like I found myself. I was my own master, fully healed. But my heart suddenly skipped faster. I sensed something wrong as I was climbing up the stairs to her room. I heard my father's faint shivering voice calling me out for help, followed by emergency sirens across the street. I got back down and rushed outside the front door, where I again heard my father calling. He was nowhere to be seen. I ran toward the sirens.

A car had veered off the roadway and crashed into a tree. It was slowly catching flames. The driver, the sole occupant of the car, had been dragged out of the wreck and laid down in the middle of the road, away from the crash site, as the fire ravaged his vehicle.

The paramedics arrived immediately. The man's head was severely injured, his face deteriorated, his limbs and knees had fractures. When he saw me up close, he moved his mouth trying to say something, but nothing came out. He pointed his finger at me, shook his arm to indicate there was a note for me, so I went over to him and sat on my knees before he was taken under care. I touched his arm to console him. Maybe he was mistaken that I was his relative. But he loosened up and a crushed note rolled out of his hands. He managed to speak, "For you." I just shoved it inside my pocket. One of the officers came forward and asked, "Do you know this man?"

"No." I mumbled and stood up as the paramedics rushed to take his body on the stretcher. I moved away before anybody asked why I came here. I asked myself why I came here. I understood it was a mere distraction. I ran back home to check upon my family. I quickly sensed something wrong.

My father's car was parked outside the gate, which meant he came back, but the front door was wide open. I scampered on the pathway to find there were a dozen broken eggs on the entrance mat. And right ahead of me, I found my mother lying unconscious on the floor of our living room. Her knees were up to her chest with her fists closed tight, her body curled up into a ball."Mom, mom!" I shook her. She was as cold as ice and was breathing rapidly. I carried her in my arms and took her upstairs to her bedroom, while my eyes searched for my dad all around. When I slowly kept her on her bed, I noticed everything was a mess as if someone had tried to break in. The windows of their room were also wide open.

I checked their bathroom. I jogged outside the room, calling out for my father, but my voice echoed in the emptiness. I went downstairs looking for him everywhere, but got no response. He wasn't home.

I ran back to my mother. She tried to speak, when she saw me at the door. She held her chest and tried to take deep breaths as a dam of tears flowed from her eyes, but nothing came out. And then I thought about the note in my pocket.

It read, 'Three lives for one. Your father is with us. Submit to us. From the Kuzuku.'

Kuzuku? I crushed thenote in my fist and threw it on the floor. I realized the accident was stagedto distract me, in order to abduct my father. I carried my mother and rushedout of the house to take her to the hospital. Keeping her at home would makethings worse. She stammered my father's name and she fell unconscious in myarms. I drove as fast as I could to the nearest hospital.