“Father, I ruined something today.” He spoke fast, unable to contain his excitement. “The old man that sells shish-kabobs at the market. He spent years building that business and I destroyed it.” He waited, hoping as always, for his father’s praise. But, as always, none came. His father remained seated on the floor in the corner and simply stared ahead. He sighed.
“I tainted his meat with dirt and filth,” Sadim said. “When customers bit into it, they spit it right out.” He threw his head back and laughed. “They said they would never buy from him again.”
His father took a slow deep breath and sighed again. “Foolish child. Those people will simply buy their meat from someone else.”
“But the old man will never sell anything again. He is ruined. His good name is destroyed.”
“Who cares about an old man? Ruin a single man, a single business--that is nothing. Destroy a kingdom--now that is true power. That is my dream.” After another sigh, he repeated softly, "that was my dream."
Sensing a direction that would lead to his father’s adoration, Sadim was energized. “Then I will destroy it all. The entire kingdom.”
“Don’t waste your time, foolish boy. Look around. Look outside this tent. Look at the tents of our neighbors. Look at our way of life. This kingdom is already worthless. The work has already been done.” He hung his head. "Probably by someone far better than me."
“There must be something left to destroy,” Sadim said. “Maybe we can take that which has been ruined and make it even worse.”
His father pointed to a pile of camel manure outside the tent. “Unless you can turn things to that, there is nothing more to be done.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Sadim said with a youthful defiance. “I’ll turn everything to crap.”
His father chuckled dismissively. “With your magical touch, right?” He shooed the child away. “Go along, foolish boy.”
That night, young Sadim settled into the corner of the tent that he used for a bed and he drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of a magnificent kingdom--the roads were paved with gold, granite buildings reached to the sky, and wealthy well-fed citizens freely roamed the bustling streets. Colossal marble columns flanked the grand entrance and, as Sadim stepped through, an emerald-encrusted crown appeared upon his head. When he laid his hand on one of the marble columns, it instantly crumbled. On the ground, in its place, sat a large pile of excrement. Sadim touched the other column and it, too, crumbled to the ground. He quickly realized that whatever he touched turned to crap and, in no time, he had transformed the entire kingdom.
“What a fantastic dream!” he said when he woke.
In fact, the dream had been so vivid that he thought, perhaps, he really did have this magical power. He stood and scanned the room for something to touch. The tent was without furnishings except for a small table in the center. Slowly, he rested his hand on it.
His stomach fluttered as he waited for the table to crumble to the ground. After a few moments, however, his heart sank as he realized that he did not have the magical power as in his dream. But the dream inspired him, for he knew that this was also his father's dream, and young Sadim set out in search of a magnificent kingdom to destroy.
He wandered for many years. He crossed deserts, mountains, and valleys. He found many kingdoms in different lands, but none could rival what he had seen in his dream.
Year after year, Sadim’s search continued. He was no longer a young boy, but a grown man, when he sailed alone in a small raft across the ocean. It was here, on a new continent, thousands of miles from his place of birth, that he finally found what he had been searching for.
In the distance, atop a hill, stood a glorious, shining city. He pulled his raft ashore, raced across the land, and scaled the hill. When he reached the top, he found an extravagant entrance flanked by two giant columns. To his surprise, it was unprotected--no walls and no guards.
“I can just walk right in,” he thought. “No one will stop me. No one will even suspect that I am here to destroy this kingdom.” He laughed. “What a fool must be the man that rules this unprotected city.”
As he stepped through the entrance, he noticed writing engraved on the columns. Each column contained five sentences. The sentences on the column to the left were numbered one through five. The column on the right, six through ten. Each sentence began with “Thou shalt.” They made no sense to Sadim and gave the sentences no more thought as he ventured deeper into the city where he marveled at the fantastic buildings, beautiful homes, and busy markets.
It was almost noon and he had not yet eaten when he approached a booth on the street where a man was selling kabobs. He ordered one and the man placed it on the table before turning to help another customer.
Sadim dug into his pocket, only to realize he had left his gold coins in his raft by the water. Instinctively, he swiped the kabob and snuck it under his shirt. But the seller noticed.
“Oh, uh, just an accident,” Sadim said as he put the kabob back on the table. “An innocent mistake.”
“That’s ok,” the man said. “If you don’t have any money, pay me tomorrow.”
It was hardly the reaction Sadim had expected, but he thanked the man and moved on.
“Is everyone so trusting and generous here?” he said to himself. He chuckled. “Destroying this place will be easier than I thought.”
He continued wandering through the city and came to a group of three men standing on a street corner. They were engaged in an animated conversation. Curious to learn as much as he could about the city and its people, Sadim inched closer to listen.
“The king is wrong,” one man said.
“That law will never work as he intends,” said another.
“Not to worry,” said the third man. “We shall have a new king soon enough.”
Sadim froze. “These men are out of their minds,” he thought. “Publicly saying there should be a new king?”
As the debate became more heated, Sadim looked around and realized, to his amazement, that although it was the middle of the day and there were people everywhere, no one seemed to care what these men were saying.
“Excuse me,” Sadim said to the men. “Who is this king that allows you to talk about him in public?”
“Allow us?” one man asked. “I don’t see what he can do about it.”
“There he is,” said another man. He pointed across the street. “There’s the king.”
Across the street, a man dressed in plain clothes had stopped to buy a kabob.
Sadim laughed. “That man is no king. Where is his robe? His crown? His servants?”
“His robe?” asked one man.
“His crown?” asked the second.
“His servants?” asked the third.
“King,” one of the men called. “King, come here.”
The king ambled over, a chunk of kabob in his cheek. “Hello, friends,” he said.
Believing that the three men were playing a joke on a newcomer, Sadim decided to play along. “So you are the king?”
“Yes.”
“It seems these men have a disagreement with you,” Sadim said. “They even suggest you might not be king much longer.”
The king took another bite of the kabob and pondered the stranger’s statement. He shrugged. “I imagine there are many more that disagree with me, and that is fine. As for not being king very long, it is true. The people will select a new king soon.”
There was silence until Sadim broke out with laughter. “I may be new in your city, but I have traveled the world. No king I have ever seen would allow his people to choose another. That is insanity.”
“But that is how it works here,” one of the men said. “Kingship lasts a single year, and then the people choose another.”
As strange as it seemed to Sadim, the man’s voice had not a hint of sarcasm.
“So,” said Sadim, “the people could make me king?”
“I don’t see why not,” said one of the men. “In fact, they will be choosing again next month.”
The group dispersed and the three men and the king went their separate ways. But Sadim remained, still absorbing the very strange conversation.
“I’ve been watching you,” said another man as he approached Sadim. “I saw you try to steal the kabob. I saw the way you look at the buildings. The contempt you have for the men on the street. Your interest in being king.”
“I’m afraid you have it wrong,” Sadim lied. “I promise you, I am a man of the very best intentions.”
“That’s too bad,” said the man. A wicked smile appeared on his face. “Because I am not.”
An intrigued Sadim studied the man before him. “And who are you?”
“My name is Unders.” He extended has hand. “And I know why you are here.”
Sadim shook the man’s hand and waited for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying to ruin this place my entire life,” Unders said. “But it is nearly impossible unless you make the laws and, to do that, one must be king. Unfortunately, I have committed some rather unseemly acts in the past. I do not regret them but, because of them, the people would never choose me.”
“I come from a faraway land,” Sadim said. “I look different. I sound different. I dress different. I know nothing of your customs. Besides, I have never been a leader--I could not run something as simple as that kabob stand. They would not choose me, either.”
“But we have a month,” said Unders. “I have no doubt that we can spin your story to make you a more palatable choice to the citizenry.”
“I won?” Sadim asked in amazement.
“Yes,” said Unders. He put his arm around Sadim’s shoulder. “We did it. But we mustn’t dawdle. In a year, it will be time for the people to choose a new king. There is much work to do.”
In the coming days, weeks, and months, King Sadim, with Unders by his side, made many new laws--each one more destructive to the kingdom than the last. In short order, there was chaos throughout the land.
Businesses closed, farmlands became unusable, and the people grew poor and hungry. Violence and crime became commonplace. The people took to fighting and the fighting escalated into riots. Disease became rampant and uncontrolled. The once majestic kingdom, the finest the world-traveled Sadim had ever seen, had descended into a wasteland. Only a single castle, Sadim’s personal fortress built by the labor of desperate and hungry citizens in exchange for small amounts of food, remained intact.
A year later, on the morning of the final day of his kingship, Sadim was staring out the window of his castle, mesmerized by the dancing flames of a farmhouse burning in the distance.
Unders entered the room and peered out the window alongside the king. “Ah, we have done a wonderful job.”
Sadim sighed.
Unders laughed as he pointed to an old man canvassing the street searching for scraps of food. “They now beg for crumbs.”
Sadim sighed again.
“Don’t you see the beauty in this?” Unders asked. “Burning farmhouses, starving people. Look over there, sickly crying orphans.”
Sadim thought back to when he was a young boy, to the time his father spoke of his dream to destroy a kingdom. Only now did he finally understand his father’s despair. “But there is nothing left to destroy,” he said with sadness in his voice.
“That’s good,” said Unders. “It means we have done our job well.”
“But I crave to do more.”
“Put it out of your mind. Tomorrow, the people choose for king. They certainly will not choose you again.”
Somber and dispirited, Sadim headed to his sleeping quarters. He lay on his bed and closed his eyes. In his mind, he saw the burning farmhouse, the hungry man, and the sickly crying orphans. “If only I could make things even worse,” he thought. “If only I could make things worse. If only I could make ...” He drifted off to sleep.
In his dream, he laid his hand on the burning farmhouse. It instantly fell into a smoldering pile of manure.
“A coin, a coin,” he heard behind him. “Now I can afford a bite to eat.”
Sadim turned to see an old man cherishing a silver coin. The king touched the coin and it crumbled from the man’s hand.
Children’s laughter caught Sadim’s attention. He turned again to see the orphans playing with old toys. The king touched the toys and they, too, fell into disgusting piles.
The dream continued and whatever King Sadim touched turned to excrement.
He woke when he sensed a man in his room. “Who are you?” Sadim demanded as he rose to his feet.
“I am God,” the man said. He waved his hand and motioned for Sadim to sit.
Sadim had no intention of obeying the man, yet his body succumbed to the command.
“God?” Sadim asked. “I’ve been told of you. You are the one that wrote the sentences on the columns at the entrance to the city. Well, those sentences are no longer there. In fact, the columns themselves are no longer there.”
God nodded. “But I still watch over this city. And I am here to answer a single prayer, just as I have done for all past kings on their final day. Tell me, what do you pray for?”
Sadim sprang to his feet. “I want everything I touch to turn to crap!”
“Take your time,” God advised. “Think carefully.”
“Crap. Everything I touch. A pile of manure.”
“Very well,” God said. And without another word, he was gone.
Sadim could hardly contain his excitement. He rested his hand on his bedside table. A moment later, it crumbled into a pile on the floor.
“How fantastic!” He circled the room, touching everything in his path. “The greatest gift!”
Unders raced into the room. “I heard screams. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is wonderful.” Sadim held out his palm. “Place something in my hand.”
Unders took a pencil from his pocket and dropped it on the king’s hand. He watched as it transformed. “That-that’s impossible,” he said as he stepped back in fear.
“Oh, don’t be scared,” Sadim said. He grabbed Unders by the shoulders. “We’ll turn this kingdom into--” Before he could finish, Unders disintegrated into a pile on the floor. But Sadim was so thrilled with his new power that even this did not concern him. He stepped over the pile and ran outside, instantly overwhelmed with all he could touch.
“Give me your finest meat,” he said to the kabob man, “I have a very busy day and will need my energy.” He grabbed the kabob the man offered and tore into it with a ferocious bite.
The horrific taste caused him to spit it out immediately.
“What is this wretched meat? It tastes like--”
Sadim’s knees weakened and he stumbled backward. “What have I done?”
He ran back into his fortress, back to his bedroom.
“God,” he called, “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
God appeared.
“Please, God, you must undue this power,” Sadim begged.
“I will take this power away,” God said, “under one condition--that you work to rebuild this kingdom that you have destroyed.”
“Oh. But,” Sadim hesitated. “But-but--”
“You must make a choice,” God said. “You will work to rebuild this kingdom or the good citizens will send you on your way--just as you are.”
The wide expanse of the sea was quiet. As the sun dropped below the horizon, the raft rocked on the gentle waves. Sadim kept his hands carefully at his side as he lay on his back. He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep, and started to dream.
