The Christmas Genie (3 page)

The thing that rose out of the meteorite looked human, with regular facial features and long hair tied back in a ponytail. It was a little
man
! Like a genie. But he wasn't wearing a turban. In fact, he was wearing a tie-dyed shirt and flip-flops.

When the smoke cleared, I could see he was about three feet tall, and he floated a few feet above the meteorite like a balloon. It was sort of a Princess Leia/holographic/avatar kind of thing. His eyes were closed, but when everybody started screaming and freaking out, he opened them. Mrs. Walters said a curse word that I'm sure
you've heard a million times, but never out of the mouth of a
teacher
. We all backed away from the meteorite. Abigail was trembling as she fumbled with her cell phone camera. Mrs. Walters just stared at the little man, her mouth open.

“What
is
it?” asked Josh.

“Maybe it's a genie,” said Isabella.

“Don't be silly,” Ella said. “There's no such thing as genies.”

“He's kinda cute,” said Abigail.

William, who you would think would have learned not to touch stuff, went to poke the genie with his finger.

“Hey!” the genie suddenly shouted. “Getcher filthy paws off me!”

We all jumped back. A few kids fell down.

“You . . . speak?” Mrs. Walters croaked. “English?”

“Any dope can speak English,” the genie said. “It's Japanese that's tricky.”

Abigail took a picture of the genie with her cell phone camera.

“Make sure ya get my good side,” he said, posing. And then, he let out a loud, nasty burp. It lasted about five seconds.

“Man,” the genie said when the burp was finally done, “I been holding that baby in for thirteen million light years.”

“You
are
a genie, aren't you?” I asked.

“Well, I ain't Santa Claus, buster, that's for sure,” the genie said. “Lock the door.”

Nobody moved. We couldn't stop staring at him.

“I said lock the door, you dimwits!” the genie shouted. “What does a guy haveta do to get some cooperation around this joint?”

Mrs. Walters jumped up and locked the door. She did it just in time, too. Because as soon as the door clicked we heard the voice of Mr. Wilson, our school custodian.

“Is everything okay in there?” hollered Mr. Wilson through the door.

Mrs. Walters put a finger to her lips and told us all to
shhhhhhhhhh
.

“Yes, everything's fine, Mr. Wilson!” she yelled. “Just a little accident with a desk. You can clean it up later.”

Everybody turned and looked at the genie again.

“Now listen up and listen good,” he told us.
“What I'm gonna say is private. Nobody breathes a word of this to anybody, you got it?”

“Got it,” we all said.

“You too, teach,” said the genie.

“I won't tell a soul,” whispered Mrs. Walters.

“Okay, here's the deal,” the genie continued. “Ya ever been on a really long car drive? You get a little cranky, right? Well, I been traveling through space for a
long
time. But because you brats were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, I'm gonna grant you a wish. It's just my little way of saying thanks for freeing me from the meteorite. Think of it as a Christmas present from me.”

“He's a
Christmas
genie!” gushed Madison.

“Whatever,” muttered the genie.

“Do you have a name?” asked Josh.

“It don't matter what my name is,” said the genie.

“C'mon, what's the big deal?” asked Alex. “Tell us your name.”

“I'll bet he has a funny name,” said Jacob. “That's why he doesn't want to tell us.”

“It is
not
a funny name,” said the genie. “It's a perfectly normal name.”

“Then tell us what it is,” Ava said.

“Yeah,” we all said.

“Okay, okay, I'll tell ya,” the genie said. “But then we get on with it. Deal?”

“Deal!” we all agreed.

“My name is Bob,” said the genie.

Everybody cracked up.

“Well, it
is
normal,” Ella said.

“Bob?” asked Ethan. “Are you kidding?”

“Who names a genie ‘Bob'?” asked Alex. “A genie should have a cool name like Alazar, or Hippocampus.”

“That's a part of the
brain
, you dork,” said Ava.

“Look, my name is Bob,” said the genie. “Deal with it. I can leave, y'know. Maybe the class next door wants to have
their
wish come true.”

“No!” everybody started yelling. “Don't leave! We'll take it! We'll take the wish.”

“That's more like it,” said Bob the genie.

“One wish?” said Logan. “You're supposed to grant
three
wishes. “In
Aladdin
, the genie granted three wishes.”

“Well, this ain't
Aladdin
, smart guy,” Bob told Logan. Then he blew his nose into his sleeve.

“I find it extremely difficult to believe that
this . . . apparition . . . is actually a genie,” said Mrs. Walters. “Granting wishes is just a fantasy. Scientifically, it's impossible.”

“Yeah,” said Josh. “This could be some special effect. Like in the movies. Or maybe we're hallucinating.”

“If you're really a genie, do something miraculous,” I said.

“How about I turn one of you brats into a frog?” Bob suggested.

“That would be cool,” said David.

About a second later, Genie Bob whirled around and pointed his finger at David, who disappeared in a puff of smoke. On the desk where David was sitting, there was a big cockroach. Everybody screamed.

“Where's David!?” yelled Mrs. Walters. “What did you do to him?”

“Kill it!” shouted Christopher. “There's a roach in the class!”

“No! Don't!” yelled Ella. “Genie Bob turned David into a cockroach! Oh man, his mom is gonna be upset!”

“I thought you said you were going to turn him into a frog,” said Alyssa.

“I changed my mind,” said Genie Bob. “I'm in a bad mood today.”

“You change that cockroach back into a boy this very minute!” scolded Mrs. Walters.

“Okay, okay,” Genie Bob said. “Sheesh. Lighten up, teach.”

A second later, the cockroach disappeared in a puff of smoke. Instead of the cockroach, on the desk where the cockroach had been sitting, was David.

“David!” Mrs. Walters shouted as she hugged him. “Are you all right?”

“That was
cool
!” David said.

“I guess you really
are
a Christmas genie,” said Mrs. Walters.

“You're darn tootin', sister,” said Genie Bob.

“So we get to make a wish?” Natalie asked. “Any wish we want?”

“Si,”
said Bob. “
Oui
. Affirmative. Yes.”

“Well, here's my wish,” Logan said. “I wish for a million wishes. Ha! So there!”

Genie Bob glared at Logan. I thought he might turn him into a cockroach too, or something even worse.

“Ya think you're pretty clever, eh, punk?”

Genie Bob said. “Ya think I never heard
that
one before? You think I just fell off the turnip truck, pal? Look, this ain't no negotiation. This ain't no game show. I make the rules around here. You get one wish and that's
it
. Take it or leave it.”

“We'll take it!” we all shouted. “We'll take it!”

“Now you're showing some smarts,” said Genie Bob. “Okay, here are the ground rules. Ya get a wish. Anything ya want. But here's the catch. I need your answer in one hour, because I can't hang around with you chumps all day. I got things to do.”

“You've been trapped in a meteorite for thirteen million light years,” Ella said. “What's your rush?”

“None of your beeswax,” said Genie Bob. “I got people to see, places to go. I'll give you one hour. Think you can come up with a wish in an hour?”

“Sure!” we all said.

“Good,” Genie Bob said. “Because if you don't, I'm gonna cancel your Christmas vacation.”

“You can't do that!” Josh said.

“No?” Genie Bob asked. “I turned your friend here into a cockroach, didn't I? Canceling a vacation
would be a piece of cake. So make it snappy. Choose it or lose it.”

I looked over at the clock on the wall. It was 1:50. We had until just before dismissal to come up with a wish.

“We need to be fair about this,” Mrs. Walters said, walking over to her desk. “I'm going to pass out an index card for every student in the class. Think it over and write down your wish. Then we'll look over all the wishes together and decide as a class which one makes the most sense. Does that sound fair to everyone?”

“Yes,” we all agreed.

I'll tell you, Mrs. Walters can find a way to turn
anything
into an assignment.

As she walked around the room passing out index cards, I thought about my wish. If I could have anything in the world, what would I want? There are so many things I wish I had. It's hard to narrow it down to a single wish.

“Oh, one more thing,” Bob said. “Remember the old saying—be careful what ya wish for.”

And then he let out a weird, otherworldly laugh.

This was a very important decision, maybe the most crucial decision we would make in our entire lives. I looked at my blank index card and started to put together a list in my head of all the things I wish I had. . . .

• A new video game system

• And a bunch of cool games to go with it, of course

• A snowboard

• A new bike (I left my old one out in the rain and it got all rusted.)

• A robot that would clean my room

• The Cubs winning the World Series . . .

This was going to be hard! There was so much stuff I wanted. How could I choose just one thing? But then I thought of the perfect wish, the wish that would make all the other wishes come true. I wrote it down. . . .