Wish, H.R. Davison [historical books to read txt] 📗
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- Author: H.R. Davison
Book online «Wish, H.R. Davison [historical books to read txt] 📗». Author H.R. Davison
Over dinner I learn more about him. He graduated high school at fifteen, graduated university at twenty-one with a masters in biology and entomology. He tells me that he started interning at the University over the summer and was just recently offered a permanent position with the faculty. He is the second smartest person I have ever met, the first being my dad. Andy is starting to grow on me. He is a total nerd but quirky and kind of cute with the way he runs his fingers through his wild hair.
“I am really glad you asked me to stay for dinner.” Andy says interrupting my train of thought.
“Oh yeah, I am glad you accepted.” I say once again feeling bad for the way I treated when we met. “I am sorry for the way I acted when you got here. I just…”
“I get it.” He interrupts me with a wave of his hand. “You want to feel like an adult, you don’t need me around. I have a little sister. I know.” He says with a grin.
Sitting at the kitchen table, all of the dishes have been cleared away and we are sipping tea across from each other. A comfortable silence envelopes us, we just met yet I feel completely at ease around Andy. Looking at him across the table I can tell he must feel the same way. He isn’t as nervous as he was when he first arrived, that’s for sure. My thoughts are cut off by the sound of the phone. Looking at the caller ID I see it is my dad.
Answering the phone I scream into the receiver. “DADDY?”
While I am talking to my dad Andy catches my attention, he is motioning at the door asking, silently if he should leave. I shake my head no and raise my finger asking for a moment.
I catch up with my dad for a minute, hearing all about his flight and his lost luggage. I tell him everything is fine, school is great, the house is still standing. He asks how meeting Andy went. Smiling over at Andy I say. “Andy is great dad, absolutely terrific, I couldn’t have asked for a better baby sitter.”
Andy smiles at me sheepishly still standing awkwardly by the table. I quickly finish my conversation with my dad, promising to write often. We conclude our goodbyes and I end the call.
“I’m terrific huh?” Andy asks standing by the kitchen table awkwardly as if he is ready to leave.
“Well yeah.” I say shuffling my feet.
He snorts laughter through his nose. “Does that mean you want me to stop by more than once a week?” He asks. His face immediately turns red. “I mean… I didn’t mean like… ummm what I meant was: when would you like me to stop by?”
Snickering at his embarrassment I walk over and poke him in the ribs. “Smooth talker eh? I bet you get all the girls.”
“Oh yeah, they are knocking down the door.” He sneaks one arm around my waist pulling me close. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. I lean in close to him, he smells fantastic, like a mix of fresh linen and flowers. I wrap an arm around his waist so we are giving each other an awkward one armed hug. “Really though just let me know when would work best for you, I can stop by any evening after work and if you need anything...” he trails off. “Do you even have my number?” he asks.
Smacking my forehead I realize that I don’t. Good job dad. Assign me a nanny but don’t bother to post emergency contacts on the fridge. “I’ll be right back.” I tell Andy as I run out of the room to grab my cell phone so I can program Andy’s number into my contacts.
I grab my cell phone out of my back pack beside the couch. I have message notifications. Opening them quickly I see they are all from DJ. I smile to myself as I read through them, each one getting sillier than the last.
“What are you grinning about?” Andy asks as I enter the room.
Looking down at the screen I see it is after 9pm. The last message from DJ was at 8:45, I quickly type a reply letting him know I have been busy with my new baby sitter and I will talk to him later. Feeling a little guilty that I was just hugging Andy thinking about how great he smells while texting DJ I say. “Nothing.What’s your number?”
I put in Andy’s contact information and save it to my phone. We make plans for him to stop by again next Friday at the same time. I give him another quick hug as he leaves, laughing to myself as he turns bright red from his neck all the way to his hairline. Running his fingers through his hair again I watch him from the door as he walks down the sidewalk to his Jeep.
DJ
Why isn’t she replying? I am trying not to come off as needy but I am worried. We have talked every night this week without fail. Getting to know Kat has been the highlight of my year.
She is the sweetest girl I have ever met, not to mention the hottest. The best part is she doesn’t even know it. I flop onto my bed with a huff, checking my phone again for a missed call or message, nothing, again.
Putting a pillow over my face I scream all of my frustration into it. Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday and tonight is my trial. If I succeed I will be granted my magical capabilities. The trial should be easy enough according to my mother. A simple to test to prove I am capable of using magic without abusing the power.
I check my phone again it after 9:00pm in three more hours I will begin. As I am looking at the screen I get an incoming message notification. It is from Kat telling me she is busy with her baby sitter and she will talk to me later. I chuckle silently to myself. I know she has been dreading meeting the guy she refers to as “The Nerd” all week.
I deliberate over what response to send. I don’t want to come across too clingy or uninterested, what a fine line we walk when courting. I settle with sending a heart eyes emoji.
The next two hours fly by as Kat and I text back and forth until she goes to bed. Before I know it is time to go to my trial.
I meet my mom and dad in the living room to wait for Randall. Randall is the eldest living Djinn in the world and he will be conducting my trial. During my training he told me there will be a test, a wish to be exact, and it will be my task to exact the correct response.
Most folklore surrounding Djinn makes us out to be a genie from a lamp that grants the possessor of the lamp three wishes. For enslaved Djinn this is mostly right. However for free Djinn, we can decide who we grant wishes for and how many.
Randall rings the bell promptly at midnight, probably having teleported himself here from Heaven knows where in the world. He walks in leaning heavily on his cane. Dressed in all white from the fedora on his head to the wingtips on his feet he radiates magic from his very pores. Relaxing into the sofa across from me he asks if I am ready to begin. I nod in acceptance.
I blink my eyes and when they open I am standing in front of a small girl. She is maybe three or four years old. Wearing pale pink pajamas, her curly blonde hair hangs in a mess. She curls a teddy bear in one arm to her chest. With a shriek of joy she screams. “I wish my Teddy is real!”
This is my test. What do I do?
Do I animate the stuffed animal? That seems unwise.
Do I magic a real bear from the forest? That seems dangerous.
The teddy is already real, but what the little girl means is alive. The test is to have a happy outcome. I can’t reason with a toddler that her teddy is already real and not imaginary.
My dad always told me to get to the root of the wish, find out why they are wishing for something because what they want may not be what they need.
The trial is designed to understand my character and my depth of human emotion. Djinn cannot be unfeeling or cruel. The trial initiation was put in place centuries ago, because cruel Djinn granted a wish to a seaman, no one is sure of the exact specifics but the result was the black plague.
Thinking of this I bend to one knee to get down to her level asking. “Why do you want your teddy bear to be real?”
Her bottom lip starts to tremble as a single tear slide down one plump cheek, squeezing the tattered stuffed animal close she stutters. “B-b-because he is m-my only f-f-friend.”
I look at my surroundings for the first time. Inside of a small home that can only be described as a dump, mismatched furniture stands against the wall, worn blankets cover the windows instead of curtains. Hanging on the walls are family photos of a young woman and the little girl together. The images in the photographs radiate love and warmth, but the surroundings tell a story of poverty.
I ask the little girl. “Isn’t your mommy your friend?”
Rubbing her eyes with a sniffle she nods yes. “But she is always at work.”
“What if your mommy didn’t have to work?” I ask.
She jumps up and down with tears still shining bright in her blue eyes nodding. “Oh yes, I wish my mommy didn’t have to work.”
This I can fix. “Then your wish is my command.” I say snapping my fingers and with a flash I hand the little girl a ticket. “Turn on the television.”
The little girl turns on the television.On the screen is the news. A woman is reading off the winning lottery numbers. “Mommy! Mommy!” The little girl chirps excitedly.
A tired looking version of the smiling lady in the photographs walks into the room drying her hands on a dish towel. Her blonde her in a messy bun on top of her head, dark circles under her eyes telling the story of too much work and not enough sleep. “What do you have there?” The mother asks.
“It’s my wish mommy.” The girl chimes, holding out her chubby toddler fingers she hands her mom the ticket.
The mother looks at the ticket, then at the television, then back at the ticket. “Oh my God.” She says collapsing on the couch clutching the worn dishrag to her chest. “It’s a miracle. We won. We just won five million dollars.” The girl climbs onto her mother’s lap a big grin spreading across her face. The teddy bear lay on the floor forgotten.
I blink again and I am back on the couch across from Randall. He smiles at me revealing large gaps where his teeth
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