Magic in the air

“Much better,” I sigh, continuing to roll my shoulders back. There’s no sound of popping or cracking from my back as I stretch but it’s just as satisfying. “I thought I would be trapped in that thing for all eternity after that snarky prince threw me into the ocean.”

“So you’re a…” the words dangle from the woman’s open mouth staring up at me as I hover above her.

“A genie,” I finish for her. “And you must be my new master.” I hold my tongue as she sits back on her chair. Time has taught me to give humans a chance for their luck sink in.

Her gaze drifts from me to the lamp and then back again my patience thinning by the millisecond.

“I’m here to grant you three wishes. Shall we begin?”

My words spark something in her. Her eyes sharpening. She rises to her feet setting my vessel down on the table next to an old framed photograph of a young man.

“I don’t need any wishes, thanks.”

“Nonsense,” I tell her, looking around the house. It’s larger than the huts I have found myself in over the millennia’s but the palace of my last master was far more extravagant. I float after her as she walks out of the room. “I can grant you whatever your heart desires. I’ve returned health to the sick, made castles out of gold, no wish is too outlandish.”

She shakes her head. “No thank you.”

I find myself in a kitchen watching her moving about it.

“I’ve turned scullery maids into queens,” I add, but she doesn’t bite. I cross my arms doubling down. “If you aren’t the owner of this fine estate than one wish and I could make it so.”

Her brow pints together as she turns to look at me. “What makes you think this isn’t my house?”

I smirk at her. “I’ve been around the world hundreds of times. I know enough to recognize a servant when I see one.” She continues to stare at me. “Ladies of the estate don’t work in the kitchen,” I say finally.

My statement causing her to chuckle to herself as she walks around me, opening a door on a container that’s cold on the inside, food and beverages, most of which I’ve never seen the likes of fill it’s shelves, “would you like something to drink?” She takes out a large pitcher and sets it on the counter.

“What is it?”

“Tea,” she says simply. She pours me a glass before I can respond and then hands it to me.

“How odd,” I whisper, lowering myself from the air above her to take the cup.

“You’ve never had tea?”

“Of course I’ve had tea. I just can’t remember ever being offered a drink before is all.” I stare into the cup.

“How sad,” she mumbles as I take a sip.

My immediate reaction to the cold liquid is to grimace but not wanting to be rude, I shake my head. “It may be the first drink a master has offered me but I have enough experience materializing the finest of food and drink from around the world that you should know, tea should only be served hot.” I hand her back the cup.

“Noted,” she chuckles.

“If you wish it, I can have hot tea and every delectable dish from every corner of the world appear right here. You could feast for days, and if you wish it, they could be on plates of gold for you to keep.” I raise my hands in the air readying for the wish.

“That reminds me,” she says, turning her back to me. “I need to check on something in town.” She pours our teas down the sink. “Want to come?”

I stare at her in disbelief. Never have I ever come across a being so unwilling to make a wish. Even those who have heard tales of the trickery a few of his kind are known for still end up making their wishes. Riches, love, and health, that’s what they all wish for, usually in that order.

“Did you hear me, Genie?”

I lower my hands looking around the kitchen. There’s no sound of anyone else in the house. “Where’s the man in your life?”

Gentle thin lines wrinkle her forehead. “The man in my life?”

“That’s right. Your husband,” she shakes her head, “father, older brother?” Her head continues to shake. “There you have it. One wish for the perfect husband who will love you. Another wish for kids who will care for you when you get old, and the last to give you the ability to speak to your deceased loved ones.”

“You can do all of that?”

“I can.” I begin to raise my arms once more.

“Good for you.” She nods walking around me.

“I don’t understand.” I float behind her. “If you didn’t want to make a wish then why did you rub my lamp?”

“I didn’t rub the lamp. I was wiping the dust off,” she says, over her shoulder. “I don’t need any wishes. I have what I need.” She stops at the closet next to the front door reaching down to pick up a pair of red flats.

I hadn’t noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes until she slides the first shoe on. Her feet are quite nice. Time is a funny thing. I’ve had masters who wore sandals made of animal hides, others who would have arrested such a woman as the one I’m looking at for wearing men’s pants and exposing her bare feet to male not her husband. I respectfully avert my eyes.

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere I think you’ll quite enjoy. Would you like to join me?”

My chest fills with…what is that? Anticipation? Yes, that’s it. “I would.” She smiles up at me. It feels good to return her smile with my own until her smile fades as she looks me over.

“You…won’t be able to go outside like that.”

I follow her gaze down to the curl of smoke making up the lower half of my body. “Is it your wish for me to take human form?”

She shakes her head in exasperation. “I assumed you would want to stretch your legs, but if you would rather everyone stop and stare at you on our stroll then—”

A wave of my hand and I transform into a normal human man standing a few inches taller than her with strong legs to better enjoy the act of walking. I expect her to shout at me for taking on a form taller than herself like the prince whom I gifted a throne of horse manure as his last wish for a throne unlike any other king before him. It had been the first true bend of a master’s wish that I had performed in a long time, but he was a particularly trying master.

“That’s better.”

“I have to agree,” I admit, following her out the door. The air is warm but not uncomfortably so as it was in Iran. “I’ve never been this tall before. I quite like it.”

She shoves her hands into her front pockets. “That’s funny because when I was in high school, I would have given anything to be shorter.”

My ears perk up at the mention of a wish but it’s the way her eyes look sad that gives me pause.

“Is that why you aren’t married? Because you are too tall?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t need a man to be happy. In fact, these days plenty of women openly find their happiness with other women so I suggest you be more open minded unless you want to be racked over the coals for being a misogynist.”

“My humblest apologizes. I did not intend to offend you nor would I want to experience being racked over coals.” She lets out a laugh. I enjoy her laugh and the way it makes her face light up. “If a woman would make you happy, all you have to do is make a—”

“Would you lay off the wish stuff so we can enjoy our walk please?”

“Your wish is my command, master,” I jest, hoping to make her laugh again.

“My name’s Grace,” she chuckles. “What’s yours?” I open my mouth but she stops me. “And don’t say Genie.”

“Theo.”

My lack of hesitation surprises me. It’s the first time I’ve told a master my real name, not that any of them have every asked.

“What a nice name.”

The way her lips curl into an easy grin as she glances up at me, I want to return the compliment but I find myself too captivated by the details of her face to pick only one. One of her lashes falls to the top of her cheek. I reach out, both of us stop for me to remove the lash with my fingertip holding it out for her to see. She looks down at the single black lash on the pad of my finger. Her chin crinkles and for a brief moment I think she might cry, but then she leans forward shutting her eyes before blowing the lash away. I stare at her perplexed.

“What was that?”

“I made a wish,” she says, one corner of her mouth curling as she continues on her way.

“A wish?” I scoff, hurrying to fall in step beside her. “You have a real life genie standing before you to make all of your dreams come true and you wish on an eyelash?”

My frustration evaporates as a man across the street catches my eye.

“Do you see that?” I ask, nodding across the street at him.

“What about him?”

I gawk at her nonchalance. “Do you not see him walking a feline on a leash.”

“I do,” she nods, her attention already returning to the path they are on, “there’s also a young woman on the other side of town who brings her pet lizard out with her on a leash but he mostly sits on her shoulder.”

Instead of pointing out that I could give her the perfect pet with one wish, I tell her about the sultan who had as many pet tigers as he did wives. In turn, she tells me about her grandfather who was a fisherman. It was his photograph next to my lamp, and how he was the one who actually found my lamp off the coast. I tell her how, unlike many of my kind, I didn’t like granting backhanded wishes, my last master being the exception.

One tale leads to another. She listens intently as I tell her how my kind weren’t mischievous by nature but once we were tricked into our lives of servitude by celestial, it became a way for us to feel better about our situation.

At the center of town, we find a table outside in front of a restaurant. I order three dishes before Grace stops me insisting that I try the filet mignon with a glass of their signature Merlot. I am kind as my plates arrive offering Grace a bite of each. The filet mignon paired with the Merlot turns out to be quite complimentary. As I’m finishing my last plate, Grace gets my attention nodding her head in the direction of a young woman with pale pink hair walking past our table. Her hair is pulled from one shoulder where a bearded dragon is perched watching the world go by.

I curl my back against the top of my chair until an audible pop is heard. When the waiter comes to refill our glasses, I watch him intently. It truly is a pleasure to have someone serve me for once. The couple at the table next to us lean in for kiss. I look away to see Grace sipping on her Merlot watching me.

“What would you wish for right now?” she asks, swallowing.

I take a deep breath picking up my glass. There are so many possibilities and yet I find myself looking back at the couple before turning to Grace all airs put aside.

“I would wish for more days like this.”

I take a drink from glass. When I lower it, Grace’s hand is outstretched on the table between us. My eyes meet hers as I take her hand into mine. We gaze at each other a long moment and then her lips part.

“Your wish is my command.”