Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie (30 page)

Elvira said, “Uh-huh, Senator Paula Sarin. Of Alaska. Coming to this house, which is close to neither Alaska nor D. C. You’re kidding, right?”

I replied loudly, so that all could hear: “I’m deadly serious. She intends to come here to do me harm, and she will hurt any of you who gets in her way. I repeat: If she asks to come inside the house, don’t let her in; if she gets close to you, don’t let her touch you, not even to shake hands.”

Elvira said, “R-i-ght. Marvin, you’ve gone over to the tinfoil side. Almie, do we have to stay here and listen to this rant?”

Almira replied, “Elvie, I believe whatever Marvin says. And yes, we will stay here and listen.
Or else.
”

Normally, the implied threat of being sex-starved made Elvira obedient. But not this time—

“But you’ve said yourself, Almie, it’s okay if he lies to you.”

I made an effort to keep my voice calm. “Elvira, why would I lie about this? If I were going to cook up a story, wouldn’t I use a bigger name? The president? Queen Elizabeth?
Aliens?
”

Elvira stood up and looked around to every face. “It sounds paranoid, admit it. Off-the-wall crazy paranoid.”

I was surprised that Sarin-fan Christi Ellen spoke up: “Marvin is a good man, so I trust that he has good reasons for most of what he tells us to do.”

Bridget added, “And the rest of the time, Mister Harper deserves to act selfishly sometimes. So if he yanks our chains to amuse himself, I’m fine with that.”

Elvira gave a snort. “Does
nobody
see what I’m saying? Or are you all love-struck pod people?”

Almira said, “You’re pushing my patience, twin.”

Five seconds later, Elvira dropped loudly into her chair. She crossed her arms and turned her face away from me.

But the other twelve human faces looked at me trustingly.

“One more thing,” I said. “If you see Paula Sarin inside this house, don’t attack her or try to fight for me. If you’re holding anything that might possibly be a weapon, put it down as soon as you see her. Even a paring knife.”

“Does everyone understand Master about this last part?” Fatima asked.

Twelve heads nodded. Elvira didn’t react.

“Good,” I said, “because I want to prevent someone’s misfortune.”

“Elvie?” Almira prodded.

Elvira whipped her head around, giving her twin and me both angry looks. “Whatever,” Elvira said.

****

After giving my “Beware Paula Sarin” speech to my harem slaves, I went to the computer room and called my mom’s cel. I told Mom what I’d just told my harem; but to Mom I told the Why, not just the What. Mom gasped when I told her about Jerngert’s murder, and Mom sniffled when I told her about Fatima sobbing over the death of her friend.

I made
very sure
that I told Mom about Paula Sarin’s power of Suggestion and its limitations.

I’d called Mom with the intent that she put the phone on speaker, so I could talk to both my parents at once. But Dad wasn’t there—once again, he was working late on a project.

Fatima had walked into the computer room during the conversation, so I put her on the phone to Mom. I think Mom was able to give Fatima some comfort.

After I turned off my cel, I asked Fatima to summon her scrying ball; I wanted to know where Paula Sarin was. “In her house in Lawissa, Alaska,” I was told.

I relaxed, hearing that. For now, I had nothing to worry about.

****

Monday, 7:23 p.m. Alaskan Daylight Time

Paula Sarin was talking into her phone. “And the plane’s fueled up? Great. How long will the flight take, if we leave at 7 a.m.? ... Does that include time on the ground refueling? ... You’re great, Charlie, thanks.”

Charlie Cassidy was an Anchorage man who was rich enough to own his own six-passenger jet. So within two days of Paula deciding to enter politics, she had Suggestioned Charlie to be generous with his Cessna.

Running for Senator, Paula had flown all over Alaska in that jet. Later on, when she was trying to make her name known in the Lower Forty-Nine, she used Charlie’s jet to get her to many political rallies and speeches.

Tomorrow morning, Paula would be flying in Charlie’s plane again. But this time, Paula wasn’t intending to give a speech. No, she was intending to burglarize Marvin Harper’s house and steal his brass bottle.

Sheila walked up to Paula then. Sheila was clutching a quarter-inch-thick stack of papers and was looking nervous. “Senator, I have good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first, Sheila.”

Sheila swallowed, then said, “I only halfway got in the system. And that’s only because I emailed a ... friend of mine who now works at the Defense Investigative Agency, and she gave me a few tricks to try.”

“What does ‘halfway got in’ mean?”

“I went to the burglar-alarm company’s computer and tried to make it think I was Marvin Harper. I finally hacked a password that worked, but then I got a different error message: ‘Non-local IP address detected.’ ”

“English, Sheila.”

“The burglar-alarm company’s computer won’t let Marvin Harper reprogram his burglar alarm from Lawissa, Alaska. He has to be near home to do that.”

It took Paula two seconds to decide. She told Sheila, “Go home now. Pack a bag, get some sleep, and be here tomorrow morning at 6:20. I want to be at Merrill Airport by seven.
Don’t
forget your laptop. And don’t tell
anyone
where you’re going.”

“I’ll leave right now, Senator. Um”—Sheila was blushing—“should I pack that lavender teddy that you like so much?”

As Paula watched Sheila drive off, she smiled. This problem with the burglar alarms was a setback, but Paula was confident that Sheila could outsmart whatever obstacle the alarm company sent her way.

Ooh, I can’t wait!
Paula thought. Her plan was solid, and now it was in motion. By the time the sun rose on Marvin’s house on Thursday morning, he would be without his genie.

Paula walked away from the window, la-la-la-ing “Hail To The Chief.”

TUESDAY
Tuesday, 2:10 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

I am hurrying through the mansion, asking everyone, “Have you seen Fatima?” But nobody has seen her.

Finally, I ask Elvira. She sneers and tells me, “Fatima said something about trying to protect a footlocker.”

I sprint for my bedroom. But before I get there, the second-story hallway vanishes from beneath my feet. I fall twelve feet—onto bulldozed dirt.

The mansion’s lot is vacant—no mansion, no garage, no pool or pool shack. No electric gate at the end of the driveway. None of my touch-slaves are around. I see nothing but bulldozed dirt, the still-paved driveway—and a big wooden sign on the lawn, which faces the street.

One of my knees hurts when I stand up. I’m so distracted by the pain that it’s several seconds before I notice that I feel different, and the world looks different. I realize: I’m 5′2″ and puny again.

It turns out that the sign says, “To be built soon: THE EISENHOWER LIBRARY, WARREN HARPER BRANCH.”

I am still staring open-mouthed at the sign when the gold Mustang convertible comes up the driveway. Paula Sarin is driving the car. Fatima sits next to her; Harold (I guess he’s back to being “Hank” now), Anna Kay, and Virgilia sit in the back seat.

Paula stops the car and holds up the lamp. “I un-wished everything that you wished for, Marvin. It cost me a wish, but seeing your face now, it was worth it. By the way, your Aunt Claire is dead, your mom kicked your dad out for ‘working late’ so much, and Janice is sucking-off a married accountant for thirty bucks.”

Fatima looks at me sorrowfully. “I’m sorry, Marvin.” Fatima has never once called me ‘Marvin’ before; always it was ‘Master’.

Hank gets out of the car, and strides straight up to me, his fists up. I put my own fists up, ready to defend myself with martial-arts moves, but now I can’t remember them well, and they’re all mixed up in my head. In my moment of confusion, Hank gets through my defenses and punches me in the jaw. Down I go.

As I’m trying to stand up (my knee still hurts), and I’m rubbing my jaw (it hurts too), I say to Hank, “Why did you do that?”

Hank replies, “Because you didn’t stop Natasha from making me suck that guy’s dick.”

I look at Anna Kay in the back seat, and I ask, “Why are you back with him, when he’s such a jerk?”

Anna Kay says, “Because, Marvin, now you’re nobody again.”

Virgilia says, “You’re still welcome to visit ME, Marvin. I love fellating even deficient dicks.”

I woke up from my dream, determined that Paula Sarin would
not
get Fatima’s lamp.

****

Tuesday, 7:02 a.m. Alaskan Daylight Time

Such was May in Alaska: The sun had already been up when Paula’s alarm had gone off. (“What’s going on, Paula?” Ted had asked sleepily. “Shh, go back to sleep,” Paula had said.) School buses had just been starting to rumble through the streets of Lawissa when Paula and a yawning Sheila had rolled out of Paula’s driveway. Forty minutes later, Paula and Sheila now were inside a Cessna that was lifting off the ground in Anchorage; and yet the sun had been up for two hours.

There were many advantages of flying south by private jet, rather than by a regular flight. No crying babies, nobody kicking the back of your seat, plenty of leg room, and no embarrassing cel-phone snapshots put on the Web when your assistant has lapped your pussy during the flight.

Also, on a private flight, there were no security checks. Always that was a good thing—security checks were such a time-waster. But on
this
flight, Paula had some metal tools in a satchel, and a Chekhov 9-mm semiautomatic pistol in her purse, and she didn’t want any government official noticing them.

By the time the jet was over the Yukon Territory, Paula was relaxed and enjoying the flight. And perhaps Sheila was also enjoying the flight—the girl had never mentioned
not
enjoying licking clit.

****

Tuesday, 3:58 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Gennifer Ashton, TV reporter (and secretly my touch-slave) interviewed me at the mansion.

I had rushed home and had taken a quick shower so that I would look good on-camera. Judging by the
I want to fuck you right here
vibes that Gennifer was giving off, I’d made the right choice.

Her questions were easy; so it was easy for me to answer so that I seemed like a great guy. A much bigger challenge to me was hiding my harem from the TV cameras; America needs only one Hugh Hefner.

I’d promised Gennifer a fuck after the interview, and she’d definitely earned it. But alas, this whole thing with Paula Sarin had me distracted. Feeling like a Grade A cad, I told Gennifer I was rescheduling our sex-date to Sunday afternoon.

And this time, no camera crew.

****

Paula and Sheila stepped off the airplane, roughly ten miles from Marvin’s house. Each woman was carrying her own gear, because onlookers would remember one woman treating the other like a servant. Also, Paula was wearing no glasses and was wearing a long red-haired wig.

Right now, only the pilot, copilot, and Sheila knew that Paula Sarin was in the same city as Marvin Harper. And Paula intended to keep the final list as barely longer than those three.

Because whoever Paula couldn’t touch, she couldn’t Suggestion to keep quiet about this little quest of hers.

Paula turned to Sheila and said, “I want us to be impossible to track by any computer, even the FBI’s. So sometimes you’ll take the lead here.”

Sheila said, “Then I hope you brought enough cash. Because ATMs or using your credit card are both flashing neon signs.”

Paula nodded. “I brought cash enough. But I figured we could use
your
credit card—”

Sheila shook her head. “FBI would figure you’d think that way.”

Paula shrugged. “I need to rent a car, and we need to get to that motel you Googled. Thoughts?”

Sheila shook her head again. “If you’re wanting to stay off the grid, you can’t rent a car. Period.”

“Why? I can be charming when I want to be. I’ll just persuade the manager to let us have the car without showing ID.” Of course, it would be Paula’s Suggestion power, not “charm,” that would persuade the manager to make an exception for Paula.

Sheila shook her head. “It’s out of the manager’s hands. The software in those places won’t rent you a car unless you show them a driver’s license. And then the rental-car computer talks to Alaska’s DMV computer, to make sure your license isn’t fake.”

“So you’re saying, if we went to Hertz or Avis, they’d force us to rent a car in either your name or my name.”

Sheila nodded.

“Shoot a moose!” Paula said. Then she asked, “Got a Plan B?”

“Yes, we go to the motel first, check in, then go over to Gorshin University and make a deal with a college student to rent his car.”

Paula and Sheila took a taxi to the motel that Sheila had Googled: a motel that was near (but not suspiciously near) to Marvin’s house. Paula used her Suggestion power to rent a room without having to show ID. They put their stuff in the motel room.

Then Paula and Sheila walked three blocks before hailing a cab. This was Sheila’s idea again: “If the taxi company keeps GPS logs, nothing connects the taxi to the motel.”

****

I was sitting at one of the kitchen tables with Anna Kay, Kristin, and Kelly Brown. At the moment, I was explaining to Kristin, “Yes, if it has an O-H attached to a Carbon atom, it’s some kind of alcohol. Doesn’t mean you can drink it, though.”

At the pool party, I had given a speech about how education was so important to me that I insisted that all the dropouts in my harem go back to high school next August (if Mr. Bender would let them return); otherwise, they were to home-study for their GED’s. As for my six harem girls who were already in high school, I required for them to study hard from now till the end of Finals. (Which started in two weeks.)

You recall, Reader, that I was tutoring Anna Kay in Trig. At the pool party, Kristin had asked for help in Chemistry. And earlier today, ex-slut Kelly Brown (modestly dressed, whodathunkit) had asked me to critique her Government term paper.

Which explained how I was now close enough to three babes to smell their perfumes, each hottie wanting to fuck me, and it was their
brains
that I was stimulating.

While I was instructing Kristin, I realized that it had been over twenty-four hours since Fatima had told me where Paula Sarin was. I made a mental note to ask Fatima to update me today.

But
after
I finished the tutoring. Education was important.

And one more hour
probably
wouldn’t make a difference.

****

Tuesday, 7:51 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Talking to students at Gorshin University took the red-wig-disguised Paula Sarin a
long
time, because she couldn’t Suggestion a kid into handing-over his car when that would alarm his friends and roommates. Eventually Paula and Sheila found a sophomore girl who didn’t have an off-campus job, and who’d let them use her car for three days, for seventy-five bucks. Paula Suggestioned the girl only to make her trust Paula and to forget to ask for ID.

Paula drove Sheila back to the motel room and ordered her, “Get on your computer, and figure out how to hack Marvin Harper’s alarms. As for me, I’ll be gone for a while.”

“Yes, Senator,” Sheila said meekly. Then she added with more confidence, “You know we can’t use the cel phones we brought.”

Paula nodded. “Then we’ll need to buy prepaid ones. Find out where they’re sold here.”

“Yes, Senator.”

“Don’t call me ‘Senator’ here, or even ‘Paula.’ Call me—this city has lots of Frenchies, doesn’t it? Call me ‘Tina Le Fey.’ ”

“Okay ... Tina, I’ll hunt up prepaid cel phones, besides hacking Harper’s security system.”

Paula had overlooked bringing a computer printer; but fortunately, Sheila had brought an inkjet. Sheila printed-out driving directions, from the motel to (the house next door to) Marvin’s parents’ house, and from that house to (the house next door to) Marvin’s house. Once again the FBI would be thwarted. Hopefully.

As Paula drove away from the motel room, she smiled to herself. Only three people knew she was in this city, nobody else had spotted her here, nobody suspected she was here, and Marvin Harper had no idea she was gunning for him.

Then Paula realized that there was a problem in her paradise: She couldn’t see to drive. She stopped the car in the parking lot, reached into her purse, pulled out her bifocals, and put them on.

The frames had a harlequin shape, just like those worn by biddies in “Far Side” cartoons. Indeed, Paula Sarin didn’t own any glasses that
weren’t
harlequin-shaped.

Paula glanced at the sun. She had about a half-hour of sunlight left.

****

Tuesday, 7:59 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Muscular Marvin was stretching at one of his kitchen tables, and recovering slut Kelly Brown was enjoying watching his body ripple and flex. Kelly wondered if Marvin’s dick was as hard-muscled as his chest.

It’s hard to choose Abstinence when Marvin looks so hot
, Kelly thought.
Jeez, I could climax just by stroking those biceps.

Marvin stood up and smiled. “Now I need to start
my own
homework.” Then he looked at his women, Anna Kay and Kristin. “Kelly needs a ride home. Would one of you help her out?”

Kristin gave Kelly a warm, friendly smile. “I’ll be glad to take you, Kelly.”

It occurred to Kelly that it had been elementary school since she’d gotten a warm smile from another girl her age.
Maybe giving up sluttiness won’t be so bad after all.

As Kelly was walking away from the tutoring table, she spied a printout laying on the kitchen counter. She recognized the picture.

She held it up. “Someone here is a fan of Paula Sarin?”

Anna Kay looked embarrassed. Marvin said, “I think Paula Sarin is coming to my house to mess with me, and I printed that out to tell my women to not let her in the house.”

Kelly said, “Um...” She didn’t say what she was thinking, which was
Do you know how crazy you sound?

Anna Kay shrugged. “Marvin really believes that Senator Sarin wants to sneak into this house.”

“He
really
believes it,” Kristin agreed. “Me, I believe whatever Marvin says. Anyway, Kelly, you ready to go?”

Just before either Kelly or Kristin got into Kristin’s car, Kelly turned around to eyeball the mansion. “Wow, must be nice, inheriting lots of stuff from your uncle.”

Seconds later, Kristin started the car. Then she replied, “Well, I kind of wish Marvin had been living
here
last week. I’d much rather have lost my virginity
here
, rather than at that scummy motel.”

“Do you remember which one it was? The motel?”

“I can show you, if you want,” Kristin said. So saying, she made an abrupt right turn. “I don’t remember the name, but it was on Woodrow Wilson, and the neon sign was a palm tree.”

Kelly replied, “That’s the Palms Motel, and the neon sign is
two
palm trees, making a V shape. Um, Kristin, could we skip going there? I get that it’s where you lost your virginity. But I’m trying to forget that part of my life.”

“Change of plans,” Kristin said cheerfully (as she made another abrupt turn). She continued, “I’ll show you where Marvin was living till Friday. Last Tuesday, I stood on his porch and basically asked him to choose which I-fuck-Marvin shoes I should wear to school.”

Kelly said, “I envy you. Whatever you hear about me is at least a little true, so I can’t shut up nobody. Whereas the rumor about you, you just say ‘I’m fucking Marvin’ and people have to shut up.”

Kristin laughed. “You mean the rumor I’m a rug-muncher? But it’s true!”

“Shit, really?” Kelly replied. She was thrilled that Kristin, a girl she admired, had taken Kelly into her confidence.

(And Kelly wasn’t worried that Kristin was about to hit on her. After as many threesomes as Kelly had been in, she
knew
that she wasn’t lesbian.)