Don Nelson was an ordinary man with an ordinary wife and ordinary children who loved him. Despite his perfectly acceptable circumstances he often dreamt of a life less ordinary. One day in an antique store not far from his home he noticed a dusty bottle high up on a shelf. It had a rounded bottom, a long stoppered neck and had been set on a donut-shaped wooden ring to prevent it from toppling over. He peered at the bottle and thought he saw a sinuous wisp of smoke spiraling upwards within. Intrigued, he purchased the bottle and continued home.
He had to park on the street. His eldest son was shooting hoops while his youngest and his friends were racing Hot Wheels down the driveway. His daughter was hosting a tea party on the front lawn. Once in the house his wife greeted him with a cheerful peck on the cheek.
After his family had gone to bed he retired to the garage where he carried out a thorough examination of his latest treasure. There were no identifying marks, only a complicated Mashrabiya pattern that wound around the equator of the bottle’s distended body. He tried to twist off the stopper but it wouldn’t budge. Using a pen knife he carefully scraped away the gunk that fused it to the bottle. Then, when he pulled at the stopper, there was a pop and a flash of light that momentarily dazzled him.
When his eyes recovered he was surprised by a small man standing before him. The man was wearing a perfectly fitting mauve business suit. Crisp white buttoned cuffs protruded from the sleeves. Intelligent eyes above a perfectly groomed beard returned his frightened look.
“Are…are you a…?” Nelson stuttered.
“A djinn? Yes, I am, effendi,” the small man replied bowing, hands clasped. “I am at your service.”
“At my service? What, like three wishes or something?”
“Precisely,” the djinn answered with a smile.
“This must be some kind of joke,” Nelson said and began looking around the room. The djinn watched a play of frowns and grimaces across the other man’s face as he settled onto a stool.
“This is ridiculous,” Nelson muttered.
“And yet here I am,” the djinn replied, waving his arms expansively. A very lengthy silence followed.
“For my first wish I want to be wealthy,” Nelson suddenly blurted.
The djinn nodded.
“For my second wish I want immortality,” another but now somber nod. “And for my third wish…”
The djinn waited patiently.
“For my third wish,” Nelson paused and then with a laugh. “I want a hundred more wishes.”
The djinn merely nodded once more.
“I can do that?” Nelson asked incredulously.
“It is a perfectly acceptable option,” the djinn said. “Do you wish to use some now?”
“No, I would like to see how things go first.”
And with that and a pop and a flash, the djinn was gone.
§
Decades passed before the djinn returned. Nelson’s car wash business had gone nationwide, then global, flooding him with money. Despite being a perfectly charming woman he couldn’t help but notice his wife’s plainness and before long they were divorced. For this his children grew to hate him. A long line of increasingly beautiful women led to his bed but he soon realized that it was his wealth and not he, himself, that attracted them.
The djinn found a very different man. Perfectly attired with a cynical air, Nelson was waiting with a long list of wishes—the perfect woman, artistic genius, political influence, flawless physical appearance…
The djinn granted all of his requests with a nod and vanished.
§
Centuries drifted by. Mankind had reached the stars. Nelson’s fortune was the stuff of legend. His works of art, the products of genius without sacrifice, were universally worshiped but gave him no pleasure. Unbridled power only fed his desire for more. In time he found his perfect woman.
The djinn was summoned to an enormous empty reception hall. Nelson sat alone at a small elegant table and had little time even for his djinn. He rattled off a list of wishes ending with immortality for his perfect woman. The djinn nodded, but before he vanished he turned away, to hide his sadness.
§
Inevitably the time came for the djinn to grant Nelson’s final wish. He found him hunched over the same small but now worn table, his head in his hands. Fevered ancient eyes greeted his arrival.
“Last wish,” Nelson said by way of greeting, and then sighed. “I suppose I could ask for a million more wishes.”
“If that is what you desire, effendi,” the djinn replied, his heart dropping like it had so many, many times before with so many other men.
“No, that is not what I desire,” Nelson said sharply. The djinn’s heart skipped a beat.
Nelson told the djinn his story, of his riches, his fame, his accomplishments, and of his numbing loneliness. His perfect woman was gone, long since bored by his company. He hadn’t even bothered trying to replace her.
“And for your final wish?” the djinn prodded after listening patiently.
“I wish I had never met you,” Nelson said, despair in his voice, his head dropping. The djinn looked down at him with a delighted smile.
“As you wish,” he replied.
§
It is a djinn’s purpose to dispense wishes to mortal men. It is a djinn’s dream to serve a wise man, a man who in the end truly values what he has.
§
Don Nelson wandered aimlessly through the antique store close to his home. Up high on a shelf he saw a dusty strangely shaped bottle. After giving it a quick second look, he left the store empty-handed, whistling an airy tune. He found that he could not wait to get home to his ordinary wife and ordinary children who loved him.
“As You Wish” is R.M. Linning’s fourth publication. His other publications include the short stories “Around The Campfire” in Black Hare Press’ Dark Moments And Patreon Year Five collection, “Retrograde” in the Crimeucopia Crank It Up! anthology, and “The Book Of Pleasures” in the Ink Stains 14 compilation. He lives in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia, Canada and writes fiction of all lengths and genres. Recently retired from his job as a molecular biologist/bioinformaticist, he enjoys many interests, including computer programming, watercolour painting, history, and languages.
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