Wishful Thinking

Stevie sighed, breath steaming in the cold, like escaping frustration from his boiling thoughts. He was starting to detest thrift stores. Ever since his dad had gotten sick, his mom had dragged him from one junkpile to the next. Brooke, his annoying little sister, was in quite the opposite mood. Her two braids with sparkly beads, bounced with excitement as they crunched through the snow, to the entrance of the store with BRAD’S BARGAIN BIN written on over it. Stevie wished Brad, whoever he was, had decided to open something more exciting with his money. Like a laundromat. Or a tire shop. It could be worse, he thought grumpily, like Linda’s Lost & Found. That lady couldn’t decide if her shop was a store, or just a place to let her six cats run wild, stinking up the place.

Brooke and Mom were breathlessly discussing the “treasures” they might find, as they entered. Inside, the store smelled like the usual dust and stale chips. Stevie suppressed a snort of disgust. They were always blabbing about vintage this, and chic that. To Stevie that just meant fancy names for other people’s trash. “Oh my gosh ! Look at those blouses,” Brooke practically shrieked. She dragged Mom away towards racks of glaringly loud clothing at the back of the store. Stevie found himself looking across the racks of clothes, tubs of toys, and bulging bins of dubious electronics. He made a beeline for the only section of the store that held hope of redemption. The bookshelves.

He loved to read any subject, any genre. No matter how old they might look, the stories on the pages were always fresh and exciting. His sister called him a bookworm, but he never really minded. Sitting down and reading a new exciting adventure, was the most satisfying feeling. Books took his mind off all the reasons that he had to worry lately. Reaching the shelves, he stood in front of the books. His head tilted to the side as he scanned the titles. He had read several of them before. He took a couple down for a closer look. He knew that he could only buy one, or two. He had narrowed it down, when he noticed one he had missed, in the bottom corner of the shelf. It was a slim black covered book. There was no title, or authors name on the spine.

As he drew it from the shelf, a sort of cool tingle spread through his fingertips. He flipped it open curiously. On the inside cover, there were words written in large black letters, which looked like a sharpie. “CAREFULLY WRITE WISHES” There were no other words or markings on the thick creamy pages within. Stevie smiled. He couldn’t believe his luck ! He needed a clean notebook like this. He had written much more, since his dad had first gotten sick. It helped him to get his thoughts down on paper. Kept them from bouncing around his head like a lacrosse ball. He wanted a place to write positive affirmations and goals in. A notebook dedicated to his hopes and daydreams. A place to store thoughts and feelings from his day.

He added the book to his small pile, hoping he could get it too. He looked around the store as he thought of his mom. It hadn’t seemed like long since they had started, but a glance at his watch told the real story. Sure enough, he could see his mom walking along the aisle with Brooke tagging along closely behind. They were both lugging armfuls of clothes. His mom gave him a triumphant smile as she tried to beckon him over. His heart sank. She had found something for him that he would have to wear. “Stevie ! I found the perfect coat for you !” she said as soon as he was near enough to hear her. “It’s a trenchcoat !” Dropping the rest of her burden onto a nearby bench, she displayed her find with a proud flourish. He could tell that she was waiting for his response. He just stood there. It looked like a wrinkled canvas bag with stains from coffee, or something worse on it.

As he saw the smile begin to fray at the edges of his mother’s face, his brain clicked into gear. “It’s great!” he blurted out, before the smile was replaced by disappointment. His mom had not smiled like that very much lately. “Just like Inspector Gadget!” he added for good measure. She knew he had been wanting a coat like that character since he had first seen the show. Happier days. The time before Dad’s illness seemed ages ago. The smile renewed itself on his moms face. “I know !” she exclaimed. “When I saw it I knew it would be just perfect.” She looked at the books that he was holding. “What do you have there?” He showed her the books, and they moved to the counter to check out.

Snow crunched under the tires as they pulled into the driveway. Stevie heaved a sigh. He would have to get the shovel and salt out. It was rare that his dad felt good enough to help him with chores nowadays. He tried not to show his glumness as he helped his mom and sister to bring in the groceries, and bags from the thrift store. He headed up to his room as soon as he was able to finish shoveling and salting. He brought the bag with his new books, and the coat. His mom had only allowed him to get two books, because the hardcovers cost more. Stevie took out the notebook, and sat at his small desk, flipping on the lamp. He pulled out his favorite possession, a set of different colored pens.

Opening the book, he read the warning printed there again. He thought that it was pretty cool, but strange that no one had written anything in the pages that followed. It was good advice. He decided that he would write down his wishes first, and then start a page for his goals and for positive affirmations. He thought about what he really wanted. He liked to know stuff. He liked to be able to help other people. Right now the people he wanted to help the most was his family. In his best hand writing, he wrote his first wish. “I wish that I could help my family to be truly happy.” Even if they loved and supported each other, they still needed money to pay the bills. That would solve a lot of their problems. His moms constant worrying, his dad pushing himself so hard that he couldn’t get better without expensive medicine, and endless doctor visits. It was a vicious cycle!

Stevie wished that he could get enough money to help his family out of the financial trouble they were in. Before he wrote the next wish, there was a soft knock on his door. He recognized it immediately. Brooke knocked like that when she was trying to be nice for some reason. Most of the time she would simply barge in, or pound on his door like she was the law, and he was a murder suspect. “Come in” he said, managing to keep annoyance out of his voice. She opened the door slowly, and came inside at the same tentative pace. Then she just stood there, looking at him. “Well?” he asked. She was not acting at all like her usual bouncy, bubbly self. “What’s wrong?” he added a bit lamely. She slowly walked over and sat on his bed. She still had not said anything.

With a shock, he realized that she was crying, tears silently slipping down her cheeks. “Aww its ok Brooklyn,” he said, calling her by the name that could always make her laugh. He got up and moved to sit beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. This made her start to sob quietly against his shoulder. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. “What’s the matter? Did someone see you wearing last years look?” She pulled away from him, and he expected to get hit, but instead she stopped sobbing, and a wan smile appeared on her face. Encouraged, he continued, “but really, what’s going on?”

The smile became a solemn expression as she began to talk. “It’s Dad, I don’t think he is gonna ever get better. I heard Mom and him talking, he told her that we need over fifteen thousand dollars to pay the doctor and all the other bills.” Her voice rose in pitch. “We don’t have that much money! We might have to sell the house!” Stevie didn’t know what to say to that. He knew that the situation was bad but not that it was this bad. Fifteen thousand dollars ! There was no way he could make that much. Even if he shoveled all the driveways in town, and started his concierge garbage service. He put his arm back around Brooke as she began crying again. “It’s going to be alright,” he found himself repeating to her as the crying gradually lessened. “We will figure it out.” Inside, he knew that he was scared too.

By the time she stopped crying, he knew what to tell her. “We have to support mom and dad with this. We can’t go earn money, but we can make sure that they are not feeling stressed more than they need to. That means chores done, no complaints, no fights and staying cheerful.” His sister nodded in agreement. Their mom called up the stairs that dinner was ready. Brooke ran to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Now that there was something that she could do to help, she was regaining her usual buoyancy and cheer. Stevie sat back down in his chair and looked down at the first black page of the black notebook. It was strange. He could have sworn that he had written something down before Brooke came in. He had clearly just been wishing in his head, there was nothing on the page. He needed to be more specific with his wish anyways. “I wish that I had twenty thousand dollars to pay for all our bills” As he finished writing, his mother called again, and he closed the book and put away his pen.

At dinner the energy was high. Mom and Dad were grateful that they were all eating together. His dad said he was proud of Stevie for being responsible and salting the driveway right away. This made Stevie feel good. There was hope and happiness , even with the troubles that they faced. Afterwards, Brooke and Stevie cleared and cleaned the dishes, while Mom and Dad snuggled together in the living room. When Stevie got to his room he saw the coat from the thrift store, forgotten in the bag in the floor. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He slipped it on, pretending he was the fumbling felon fighting machine, Inspector Gadget ! As he swirled the coat, a big lump in the pocket hit his leg. Curious, he reached inside, and pulled it out. He couldn’t believe what was in his hand ! Wrapped in a plastic bag, was a roll of hundred dollar bills. Hundreds of them !

Barely able to breathe, he took them out, and counted them. Twenty thousand dollars! Stevie gave a whoop of joy that brought everyone in the house running! The next day, after his parents left to deposit the money into the bank. Stevie sat at his desk. He opened the black notebook to write down all the exciting things that had happened. There was an odd tingle in his hands as he did so. The first page was blank, ready for him to put down anything he wanted. For a second he had a strange feeling, but it passed just as quickly. He began to write.

The End