Ali Baba and the Three Thieves

Content Notes: homelessness, mild profanity, orphans, mention of loss of a loved one, poison

Ali Baba sat in the cave that once had held the treasure of a lifetime and looked back on his life. He was all alone now. His wife had passed just last year and all of their children but one had moved on to their own adventures, and that one was bound to leave soon, too. “It has been a good life”, he thought. As he sat in the cave, contemplating the years gone by, he heard a small voice from outside say: “Open, Sesame!” and the cave opened, as it does.

Light footsteps came closer and a tiny, thin shape came into view, Ali’s lamp cast­ing shadows on the rough walls of the cave. The newcomer looked around the big, empty hollow, taking in the bare floor, the lamp and the old man sitting hunched over on the ground. “Bummer,” the small figure said. “Did you come here looking for treasure, too?” she asked and sat down by the lamp, looking at Ali.

As they began to talk, she told him about how her family had fallen on hard times, surviving mostly by stealing food from market stalls, and how she had heard leg­ends of an enormous treasure. He mostly listened, not saying who he was or what had happened to the gold and gems that once were here. Her story moved him. She was young and fierce and proud, and he felt that charity was not what she was after. So instead he came up with an idea and told her that there was a secret con­nected with the cave: it thrived on stories, and when people shared stories here the treasure would regrow. He had tried it on his own, but with no one to listen, it did not work. But if she would help him, they could split the rewards.

The girl agreed, and they decided to meet again in one week, as this was how long the treasure was supposed to take to appear. When one week had passed, Ali went to the cave very early, so he would be there before his new partner. He brought a pouch of copper coins and scattered them about on the ground in the cave. When the small visitor came in, she saw the gleam of the lamplight reflected from the coins.

As Ali claimed he was too old to collect the treasure, she picked all the coins up and divided them evenly. Ali had brought some food to share over a story, so they ate and talked and agreed to meet again in a week. Ali wanted to do better by the girl and her family, but anything more precious than copper coins would raise suspicion if she tried to buy food with it. Where would she have got a treasure?

After a few weeks, the girl brought an older brother, who had more stories to tell. A few weeks later a sister joined them, and Ali learned that these three were orphans, living on the streets. Ali wanted to do more than give them a couple of coins, as he had grown quite fond of the siblings. He asked if they would come live with him, claiming that he, being old, could not do everything on his own anymore and he could really use the help. After a short debate the children agreed and moved in with Ali.

His son watched all this with some worry. Who were these children anyway? Who could know that they would not just rob his father of all that he had? Maybe his father had, in his old age, grown too trusting? So, on his visits, he set out to see if these kids could be bought off. When he asked how much gold it would take to make them move out, they said that gold was no use to them. No one would trust that they had not stolen it.

When he offered to buy them a small house and set them up with a moderate income, if they never spoke to his father again, they said that they had no need for a house, now that they lived with Ali.

When he offered to give them Ali’s house and half of his money if they helped him with a plan to kill the old man, they said they would think about it. And he knew he had caught them in a trap, as that was all it was, for he loved his father dearly.

The next time he visited his father, he let the children believe that he was bring­ing poison that one of them was to slip in Ali’s tea. But once he had handed over the vial to the youngest, she ran to Ali and showed him the vial. Ali knew of the plan from his new friends, because they had only pretended to think about it, and had warned him of the danger.

Ali held the vial up to his son and asked: “Son, did you really want to poison me?” His son smiled and said: “No, it was only syrup to test if the children could be bought.” And indeed it was only syrup, which Ali would have tasted in his tea, as he always took it without sugar.

Reassured that all was well, and the children were indeed loyal friends, the son soon left for a different life.

The three children stayed with Ali. They still shared stories and Ali still made coins appear each week, but they did not go to the cave for that, as the cave was a good bit away and Ali was glad not to have to walk that far so often. The sib­lings pretended not to wonder about how the treasure came from the cave to the house, and Ali pretended to believe them.

By the time that Ali Baba died, the three young people had saved enough to start a small business that quickly grew. And sometimes, when they saw a scrawny kid in the street, they shared the secret of the cave that lived on stories and re­warded the tellers with treasure. And they made sure that this tale was true.