| by Molly P. So I’m cleaning out my grandma’s attic because she’s agreed to pay me thirty bucks for doing the job. Otherwise I wouldn’t. Because of spiders. But thirty bucks gets me up there, into the land of mothballs and daddy long-legs. I find this gold gravy boat. It’s very old. I rub it. Out pops a genie.  The genie is fat and purple, shiny like a wet balloon. He goes into a tirade about how no one has freed him in ages and how rude that is. I say “whatever” and ask him if I can make my wishes already. He sighs and obliges. First thing I wish for is the ability to summon any guy, whenever I want, just by naming the guy. So the genie grants my wish and I summon Mario Lopez. He arrives in a cloud of pink smoke, looking bewildered. After looking Mario over, I find the wish to be most satisfactory.  Second thing I wish for is the ability to name any food and have it appear -- totally edible and delicious. Genie grants me the wish. I summon Devil’s Food Cake. I taste it. I declare it divine and we move on to wish number three. I think long and hard about this one. It has to be good. I consider wishing for money but ultimately decide that wish is way cliche. My eyes fall on my grandfather’s dusty old viola case. The viola reminds me of my brother. He plays the guitar. He’s in a band called Left-Handed Goat. They practice in our garage. I can’t stand their music. It is while I am thinking about their band that I realize what I’d really desire is my own place. A house. No, a mansion. No, a palace. No, wait -- a castle! Yes, a castle. I wish for it.  Suddenly I find myself on top of a castle. No one is around. The castle is in shambles. I realize I forgot to ask for a nice castle. A nice local castle. Instead I get some run-down thing in who-knows where. England probably. I pout. Then I summon Joaquin Phoenix and a tub of cookie dough ice cream to make me feel better. I stay at the castle for a few hours. But even Joaquin begins to lose his appeal. I decide to try to leave the castle. I set off going one direction. After walking for an hour, I see a castle ahead of me. On a ledge high up sits Joaquin. No matter which way I go, the castle always seems to be in front of me. I wonder if anyone in my family misses me. I summon my brother. He may not be a cute guy, but he is still of the male species and able to be summoned with my wish. He arrives carrying his guitar. He does not seem happy to see me. “What is this place?” he demands to know.  “A castle,” I tell him. “I don’t want to be here . . . let me go back.” Then I realize I can’t because my wish was only to summon guys, not send them back to where they came from. I explain the whole genie thing to my brother. He can’t believe I “wasted” my wishes on guys and food and an ugly old castle. And when I tell my brother I can’t send him back, he gets irately angry and threatens me with his Ibanez. I tell him that killing me won’t solve anything. He lowers the guitar and sighs. After a minute or two, he asks me what gender the genie was. I’m not sure why he’s asking this. The first thought that crosses my mind is that my pathetic brother is looking for a date and is hoping the genie’s a girl so he can have some action with a Barbara Eden look-a-like. Figuring he’ll be disappointed, I gently inform him the genie was a guy. To my surprise, my brother smiles. “Good,” he says. “Then summon him.” So then I understand my brother’s intent. Duh. Why didn’t I think of that?  I summon the big purple freak. He appears, looking disgusted. "What now?” he asks. “You already used your wishes.” “But I haven’t,” my brother says. “You didn’t rub my lamp.” I pipe up and argue that it wasn’t a lamp, it was a gravy boat. The genie tells me to stop being so technical. I threaten the genie by telling him that if he doesn’t grant my brother’s wishes, I’ll summon him every hour, on the hour, forever. The genie sighs. “Okay, fine,” he says to my brother. “Go ahead with your wishes.” My brother clears his throat and says, “First I wish that my sister, me, and whoever the hell this guy is... could all go back to our respective homes.” Seconds later, I find myself in my family’s living room with my brother standing next to me. Joaquin is nowhere in sight.  The genie is there, folding his arms across his chest, waiting for my brother to make his other two wishes. “Second,” says my brother, “I wish that would you would make Emmalie’s first two wishes completely unworkable.” “Noooo!” I cry. “Third,” he continues, “I wish girls would be attracted to me.” “Kid, I’m a genie,” says the genie, “not a miracle worker.” “Fine, then I wish I was more attractive.” Poof. My brother’s zits disappear, his teeth whiten, and his nose shrinks. The genie snorts and vanishes. I turn to my brother. “Jerk!” I yell. “Why’d you have to make me lose my wishes?” My brother smirks. I punch him. He kicks me. We fight. Dust, smoke, cat-like yowls.  When it’s all over we go our separate ways. He goes up to his room to practice, and I go outside to pout. I try to summon Mario again. Nothing happens. I try to summon pineapple cake. None appears. I kick the grass and grumble. Then I remember I’m supposed to be cleaning my grandma’s attic, so I head over there. Her attic is still in shambles. I look for the gravy boat. I can’t find it. The Devil’s Food Cake is gone too, although the plate it was sitting on is still present, along with some chocolate crumbs.  I clean the place, collect my money from Granny Dearest, and go home. This was a week ago.  Mario Lopez is in People this week talking all about how he was abducted and taken to some old lady’s attic. I’ll bet you anything he ate my cake. Also, there’s a blurb in Entertainment Weekly about how Joaquin Phoenix had some "disturbing experience" and is seeking professional help. You weren’t so disturbed when you were chowing down my cookie dough ice cream, now, were you, Joaquin? As for my brother, he got ugly again. Apparently the genie’s idea of a sick joke is to have wishes only last for three days, not permanently, unless you specifically wish for the wish to be permanent as you are making the wish. Knowing that, I might as well have stayed at that castle for three days enjoying myself with every hot guy there is. Grandma just called. She wants to know if I can clean out her basement next Saturday. I agreed. Who knows what I’ll find down there? Maybe I’ll find a portal to another dimension or something. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this, it’s that anything’s possible. I’m open to just about anything. Especially appearances by one Mr. Lopez -- I’ll take those any day.  |