(Page 1 of 2) A Christmas Wish by Steve Jones -B5SUMMARY: part of the flash fiction contest. Back then I was unseen and unheard; no one knew me, no one saw me. My center, my ... what you might call a soul, was tied to an old brass container, a lamp. I was a slave.
Occasionally my lamp was found, put on a shelf or sold to the junk man for enough to cover the next drink. Sometimes the one who found me gave the lamp a rub, and poof, there I was, ready to serve.
Whenever some intrepid soul let me out he or she was granted three wishes. That's where I found people at their best. I've granted the most greedy, self-serving, idiotic wishes in the history of the planet. Most of the time they were unintentionally vague. That's what got them into the most trouble. Like the man who wished for the largest diamond in the world. Unfortunately said diamond has yet to be discovered. It's buried some three hundred feet below the ground, but then, so is the man who wished to have it.
Then one day, three guys found my lamp in some second hand store. They thought it would be funny, buying a tarnished brass lamp. They talked themselves into it, maybe there was a genie they said. They howled as they took me out into the street, and one of them rubbed the lamp.
Poof, there I was.
They laughed for five minutes.
"I am the genie of the lamp," I said once they could listen. "I will grant any three wishes; will they be divided amongst you, or will the one who rubbed the lamp have all three?"
Jon, the one who had rubbed the lamp, looked at his friends. I had seen it before. If he kept all three wishes he would have to use one of them to get rid of his friends.
"One for each of us," Jon said. "Does anyone mind if I go first?"
His friends, being of the amiable sort, decided to let him live.
"Also," I added. "Once the three wishes are granted I and the lamp will disappear and you will never find us again."
"We don't get to keep the lamp?" Chris asked.
"Do you wish to keep the lamp?"
Incidently, I was asked that very question once, a long time ago. My answer was how I came to be a genie.
"No need. Jon, go ahead."
"I wish for a million dollars," Jon said.
Forgotten in the rafters of the ten story building we happened to be standing beside was a trunk filled with exactly a million dollars worth of gold. The ground shook beneath our feet. The earthquake shook the trunk loose. It fell from the rafters, onto a window frame and out of the building. The three young men looked up just as the trunk landed on Jon, crushing his legs and breaking a number of his other bones.
Jon screamed something terrible.
His friends called for an ambulance as he cried out and the neighborhood turned out to see what had happened. Of course the bystanders helped themselves to the gold bars scattered about. They had taken more than half of it before the ambulance arrived. After Jon was put into the ambulance, the driver put the rest of the gold into his truck. Later, that driver would forget to return the gold, which was sad. When the insurance company declined to cover the accident Jon could have used all that money.
"Two wishes remain," I said as the ambulance pulled out of sight.
"Eddie," Chris said.
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