Three Evil Wishes (7 page)

“Hey—no way!” Jesse cried.

“It isn't fair!” I agreed. “We never asked for this,” I said, pointing to the two frightened bunnies.

“Ah, but you did.” Gene wagged his finger at me. “You said you wanted these guys to be frightened of you just the way you are of them. And now they are! You should be congratulating me. Hoo. I'm good!”

I turned to Jesse. “We don't have a choice. We have to use our third wish.”

“Whoa.” Jesse groaned. “What do you mean? Use our
last wish
for the Burger brothers? Uhh-uhh!” He shook his head.

“Would you
really
leave them the way they are?” I asked.

Jesse reached down and stroked one of the bunny's ears. “They're definitely cuter this way,” he argued. “And besides, think about all the kids at school who won't be bullied anymore.”

“Jesse, we can't do this. Not even to Mike and Roy,” I scolded.

Jesse sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. Go ahead and turn them back to their nasty old selves. See if I care.”

I turned to Gene. “Okay, turn them back. And do it right this time. Don't change me into Mike or Roy or something.”

“Whatever you say, master. This is your last wish.” Gene stood up and stretched. He closed his eyes and went into his trance, waving his arms and doing his crazy hula dance.

When we saw the purple smoke swirling toward us from outside, Jesse and I braced ourselves. As it came closer, it whipped up papers and paintbrushes in the garage. Rakes and ladders fell off their hooks and flew through the air.

I ran into the corner. Jesse followed. We crouched there together, ducking for cover.

I couldn't see the bunnies through the purple smoke. Finally the smoke swirled out of the garage. I let out a sigh of relief as it lifted up into the sky.

The Burger brothers stood in the doorway of the garage, hugging each other. Their eyes were bulging, and their faces were chalk white.

“L-let's get out of here,” Roy squeaked. He grabbed Mike's hand. The two boys ran out of our garage—like two scared rabbits.

I frowned as I watched them run down the street. “They could have
thanked
us,” I muttered. “But I guess they were too scared.”

“Well,” Gene said, rubbing his hands together, “I'm sorry to say, that was your last wish.”

“Boy, were we cheated,” Jesse griped. He slumped back into the beach chair.

“That's okay. I'm glad,” I said. I held up Gene's bottle. “Now—time to go back where you came from.”

I couldn't wait to get that genie out of our lives forever.

Gene waved his hands as if shooing away the bottle. “Put that thing down. I'm not going in there.”

“Huh?” I gaped at him. “But—but—”

“I told you,” the genie insisted, “I am never going back into that bottle again.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I pictured Gene
spending the rest of his life in our house, taking apart the TV sets and eating all the pizzas. There was no way I would let that happen!

“I explained it to you,” the genie insisted. “I'm never going back in. We made a deal. One of
you
has to go into the bottle now.”

“O
nce you've used all your wishes, one of
you
must take my place in the bottle,” Gene said calmly.

For a second I couldn't breathe. I felt as though someone had kicked me in the stomach.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” I finally choked out.

The genie narrowed his purple eyes at me. “One of
you
must take my place in the bottle,” he repeated. “You must choose which of you it will be.”

“But—why?” My legs felt all wobbly. I flopped down into the old armchair.

“That is your payment for the three wishes. One
of you will live in the bottle . . . until the end of time!” The genie rose up over Jesse and me. “A deal is a deal.”

“But you never told us that!” I shrieked. “You never explained that!”

He rubbed his chin. “Didn't I? Oh . . . guess I forgot. Sorry about that.”

“But—but—but—” I sputtered, feeling total panic sweep over me.

“I explained now,” Gene said, frowning. “Better late than never, huh?”

He grabbed the bottle from my hand and held it up. “Who is it going to be? Hannah or Jesse?”

I swallowed hard. My throat felt as if it had been tied in a knot.

I turned to Jesse. The color completely drained out of his face. “We never would have agreed to that!” Jesse cried.

“How could you do this to us?” I demanded. “We thought you were our friend!”

“I'm a genie. Not a friend,” Gene replied with a shrug. “It's a job, you know.”

“But we can't!” Jesse protested.

“It's not so bad,” Gene told him. “It's a perfectly nice bottle. A little cramped, maybe. But it's warm and dry in there. After a while you forget your old life completely.”

I rubbed my hands over my face. My skin felt cold and clammy.

“Maybe you'll get lucky,” Gene continued. “Maybe your bottle will smash against some rocks someday. Set you free. It could happen.”

We're doomed, I thought glumly.

“You can't do this to us!” Jesse shouted. “We've been your friends! We let you stay in our house! And now—”

Gene clapped his hands sharply. “Quiet! I'm getting a headache from all this talk.”

“But, please—” I started to say.

“You are no longer my masters,” the genie said sternly. “I do not have to listen to you any longer.”

Gene floated up from the floor. And as he floated, he grew. Purple waves of energy sparked off him. His face turned dark and menacing.

“You must choose now!” he roared. “Which one of you goes into the bottle?
Which one?”

“W
e—we need time to decide,” I said.

I was stalling for time. Jesse and I had to go somewhere and think. Think of a way
out
of this mess.

“Fine. I can give you until midnight,” the genie replied.

He rose up over Jesse and me. I stared into his watery purple eyes. All I saw there was evil. Pure evil. Why hadn't I seen it before?

“Till midnight,” the genie offered. “That's fair enough.”

“What if we refuse to go along with this?” Jesse demanded in a trembling voice. “What if we don't decide who goes in the bottle?”

Anger crossed the genie's face. “Then
I
shall make the decision for you!” he bellowed. “There is no way out of this. One of you must go in the bottle.”

He waved his arms in the air. His body slowly faded into a thick purple cloud of smoke.

“Wait! Where are you going?” I cried.

“Don't worry,” he whispered as the cloud floated out the door. “I'll be back at midnight!”

*   *   *

Jesse and I headed up to my room. I brought the bottle and set it on my dresser.

I sprawled tensely on my bed with my hands behind my head. Barky curled up next to me.

“It's all your fault!” Jesse cried. He straddled my desk chair and stared at me angrily.

“My
fault? How is it
my
fault?” I demanded.

“You just had to pick up that bottle, didn't you? If you didn't fish that bottle out of the lake, we wouldn't be in this mess.”

“Do I need to remind you who
opened
the stupid bottle?” I shot back. I sighed. “It doesn't matter whose fault it is. What matters is finding a way out of this. What are we going to do?”

“We have no choice,” Jesse replied solemnly. “We need help. We have to tell Mom and Dad the whole story.”

*   *   *

The two of us sat at the dinner table in silence.

“You two are awfully quiet,” Mom said. “Anything wrong?”

I glanced across the table at Jesse. He was shoveling a big forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. I guessed I was going to have to tell them.

I cleared my throat. “Well, actually, there
is
something wrong,” I began to explain.

Mom and Dad stopped eating to look at me.

“Remember that kid Gene?” I asked.

They nodded.

“Well, he's not really a kid,” I continued. I took a deep breath. I wanted to get it out all at once. “He's really a genie. A genie who lives in a bottle. I found the bottle in Fear Lake. Jesse and I opened it and Gene popped out. He gave us three wishes, and now he wants one of us to go live in the bottle!”

I stopped—and stared at my parents. Waiting for them to react.

Dad laughed first. Then Mom joined in.

“That Gene was a pretty weird kid,” Dad declared. “But he's a little too big to fit in a bottle!”

That made Mom and Dad laugh even harder.

They don't believe me, I realized.
Of course
they don't believe me! Who would believe such a crazy story?

“Um, Jesse?” I whispered. I hoped he would back me up. Tell them I wasn't joking.

But to my shock, Jesse's eyes were wide with fear. His mouth hung open.

I turned to the dining room window to see what he was staring at.

The purple genie, hovering in the evening air, glaring through the window at us angrily.

I started to choke from fright. I grabbed my water, took a long gulp, and pointed to the window.

Barky growled from under the table.

“Hannah—what's wrong?” Dad asked.

“Dad—look!” I frantically pointed to the window. “There he is! There!”

But the genie had vanished.

“I—I don't see anyone,” Dad said, staring hard.

“Why are you two so full of jokes tonight?” Mom demanded. “It isn't April Fools'—is it?”

“No,” I replied softly. I stared down at my uneaten spaghetti. It was no use. I would never get my parents to believe us.

Jesse and I helped with the dishes. Then we trudged back up to my room.

“That was a complete waste of time.” Jesse sighed. He plopped down on the edge of my bed. “We need a Plan B.”

I glanced over at my night table. My eyes went wide. “Hey—I think I've got one!” I told my brother.

J
esse sat straight up. “You do? What is it?”

I crossed the room to the night table. I picked up Gene's bottle. “If Gene can't find the bottle, he can't put us in it—right?”

“You're
right!”
Jesse cried. “He left the bottle with us! How stupid of him! Let's get rid of it—right now!”

I tensely twirled a strand of hair around my finger. Where was the best place to hide the bottle?

My bedroom was pretty messy, but it was way too small. Gene could search it in a second.

“Ark! Ark! Ark!” Barky yapped, trotting into my room.

I smiled. I thought of a place Gene would never find his bottle.