Three Wishes(3)

That, unfortunately, as well as world peace and the eradication of all disease, poverty, ignorance, bigotry (which was also just ignorance), pestilence, plague, yadda, yadda, yadda, he could not do.

Those were the rules. The Big Rules in the Genie Code that no one broke.

The Jim he could bring back, if he broke the rules, would be no kind of Jim she actually wanted back.

“I want Jim back!” she shouted when Fazire didn’t respond. “I wish for my Jim to come back! That’s what I wish. That’s all I wish… for Jim to come back.”

After she shouted at him, her voice half an ache, half a passionate scream, she collapsed to the floor and cradled her toddler in her arms, rocking the child back and forth as the pretty, little girl’s lips began to quiver with fear at her mother’s breakdown.

Fazire found himself floating lower to the floor (he didn’t like to float low and it had been years since his feet actually touched the earth, the very thought made him shiver with revulsion). Still, something about her forced Fazire to come close to her.

“Woman, I cannot do what you ask, your Jim is gone,” he told her gently, “I cannot bring him back. You must wish for something else.”

She shook her head mutely.

“Fame, maybe?”

More shaking of the head.

“Riches beyond your wildest dreams?”

Still she shook her head.

“Good health?” Fazire tried.

She simply shook her head, still holding her child carefully and rocking the toddler back and forth.

“I just want Jim.” Her voice was broken and Fazire was at a loss. He’d not come across this form of human before. Usually he just saw the greedy ones or ones who turned greedy and grasping and hateful the minute they realised they could have anything they desired.

This was an entirely new experience for Fazire.

He didn’t know what to do. He thought about going back to his bottle and channelling the Great Grand Genie Number One to ask but instead Fazire followed his instincts.

And, as the years slid by, there would be many a time when he thought he regretted this but in reality it was the best thing he ever did in his very long genie life.

He reached out and stroked her pretty white-gold hair.

He’d never touched a human in his hundreds and hundreds of years.

To his utter shock, she turned her face into his hand and rubbed her cheek against his palm.

“I miss him,” she whispered.

“I know,” he whispered back even though he didn’t know as he’d never missed anyone but he could tell by the awful tone of her voice.

“I’ll give my wishes to Rebecca,” she said softly.

Fazire reared back an inch and stared at the small child.

“But she can barely talk!” Fazire objected.

Sarah stood up, let the child down to toddle off in some child direction with some unknown child intent in mind as, in horror, Fazire watched her go.

Then Sarah straightened, squared her shoulders and looked at Fazire.

“Well, I guess you’re going to be around for awhile,” she said quietly.

* * * * *

July Many Years Later

Fazire was sunning himself in the front yard holding the tri-panelled, cardboard-backed mirror Sarah got for him under his chin to get double sun access on his face. The golden rays were glinting happily off the pond and it was hotter than the hinges of hell and Fazire knew this to be true. He’d had a friend who visited one of his masters in hell and he’d described the excessive heat to Fazire during a channelling and humid Indiana heat in July sounded exactly like what his friend described.

He’d been there years and neither Sarah nor Becky had used a single wish nor had they shown any signs of doing this.

At first most of his genie friends thought this was hilarious, Fazire being stuck with a family in a small, farm town in Indiana, of all places, and they poked great fun at him.

Fazire, walking on the ground like mere mortals.

Fazire, wearing real clothes like humans did.

Fazire, eating blueberry muffins and strawberry shortcake just like people.

Fazire, getting a stocking filled with goodies at Christmas time.

Fazire, taking his young Rebecca on the bus to baseball games (Fazire liked… no, loved baseball and Becky absolutely lived for it).

Then Fazire would explain to them what homemade blueberry muffins, fresh from the oven and slathered in real butter, tasted like. He also went into great detail about what he received in his stocking. And he could wax poetic about a grand slam home run for more than fifteen minutes.

When he told them these stories, his genie friends got a little quieter when they were making fun. Then they got jealous. Then the settled in and couldn’t wait for Fazire to channel to tell them what he was up to next.

And Fazire was always up to something, usually with Becky.

Fazire leaned to his left and picked up the dripping wet, sweating glass of sweet, grape-flavoured Kool-Aid, his most favourite human drink – that was to say, in the summer, he loved Becky’s hot chocolate with marshmallow fluff melting on top in the winter. He slurped a big swallow out of the cool glass and spied Becky walking down to him.

She was round and jolly, just like him, and very tall. She was also very lovely with pretty green eyes and her mother’s white-gold hair. Fazire, although he would not admit this out loud to anyone, genie or human, thought of her a little bit like his child. He had helped to raise her in a way, if getting her into trouble and coaxing her to do naughty things was raising her which Fazire preferred to think it was.