by W. J. May
He spoons more orange goo into my bowl while I watch the big schoolhouse clock tick. I need to wolf this down quick so I can get back to Jin.
Dad sits down in his chair. “We’re going to have so much fun together. Wait until you start classes at Grover High. You’ll love it.”
Somehow I doubt that. With Dad as the principal I’ll surely get teased. Let alone the fact that starting a new high school in senior year is right up there with waterboarding.
A loud bang fills the air.
Dad cranes his neck to see where it’s coming from. “That sounded like it came from your room.”
Panic hits me. Think fast. “Ah...maybe it’s my roller bag. I shouldn’t have left it on the dresser. Must have fallen off.”
He laughs. “You girls have tons of clothes.”
“Actually, my bag is full of my favorite books. I’m not that into fashion.”
Dad’s eyes take in my worn skinny jeans and faded black T-shirt. He gives me a forced smile. “Can’t wait to show you around tomorrow.”
We both let out a small sigh. Putting on a brave face is exhausting. I push back my chair and get up from the table, worried Jin might knock something else over. “Thanks for the yummy dinner. I’m beat. Think I’ll crash.”
“Sure. I understand. It’s been a long day.” He leans over and gives my hand a squeeze. “Night, Kitten.”
Ugh. I thought he might have broken the habit by now. Dad calls all the women in his life Kitten. Even his own mother.
I open the door to my room and collapse on my bed. I have enough on my plate worrying about how I’m going to survive living with my dad and going to a new school, now I have to add a genie to the list.
He leans over the bed and greets me with a strange look on his face. “This publication is quite provocative. The women are wearing nothing but minuscule undergarments.”
I notice the nightstand is slightly crooked against the wall. Jin must have hit it when he saw the picture of the girls in string bikinis at the beach. This is going to be like living with my great-great-uncle. I punch the comforter like it’s responsible for my rotten situation. “I wish I had some Chunky Monkey right now.”
My hand flies up to my mouth as Jin folds his arms across his chest. “Yes, Mistress.”
He closes his eyes and the room begins to glow a strange lavender color. At first I can’t see a thing. My room smells earthy like a tropical rain forest. A wild shriek rings out and the mist clears. Sitting on the chair next to Jin is a chubby monkey stuffed into a fancy embroidered jacket and wearing a tasseled hat.
I jump up off the bed. “Wait! That wasn’t a wish.”
“Too late, Mistress.”
* * *
Chapter Two
Big Man on Campus
––––––––
I take in Jin’s disappointed face. “Nice try. But I wanted Chunky Monkey ice cream.”
“I do not understand. The ice cream has a name?”
Here we go again. “Yes. They call it chunky because it has big pieces of chocolate inside.”
“Oh...like fruit in a Christmas pudding.”
Before I can say anything, the monkey rips off its embroidered jacket and lets out another loud shriek.
My dad hollers from the living room. “Esme, I thought you were going to sleep? What the heck are you watching?”
Jin covers the monkey’s mouth as I pop my head out of the room. “Sorry, Dad. Just watching the nature channel on my laptop. Always puts me to sleep.”
“How about some warm milk instead?”
Jeez. He really thinks I’m nine. “Thanks, Dad.” I let out a loud yawn. “Think I’m good. Night.”
I dart back inside my bedroom and race over to the monkey. “O.M.G! That was close.”
Jin’s brows furrow. “O.M.G? Is that some sort of acronym?”
Like I have time for this now. “Yes. It means, oh, my god.”
The monkey sucks on Jin’s thumb like a pacifier. “Are you religious, Mistress?”
A pang hits my heart. The last time I went to church it was for my grandmother’s funeral. “No, it doesn't have anything to do with religion. It means something is amazing or unbelievable.”
“Modern slang certainly is interesting.” Jin pulls his thumb away from the monkey and it lets a loud shriek.
“Jin, we’ve got to get rid of him now!”
“I agree, but there is only one solution.” He bites his lower lip as the monkey uses his arm as a jungle gym. “You must reverse the wish.”
As if the monkey is a mind reader, he uses Jin’s arm as a launching pad and jumps up onto the curtain rod. He bounces up and down screeching so loud my ears are ringing.
My dad hollers from the doorway. “I thought you were going to shut off your laptop and go to bed, not turn up the volume.”
The monkey hurls himself at Jin’s bowler hat and misses. He wraps his tail around Jin’s neck. “Mistress, you must take control of the situation.”
He doesn’t have to say it again. “I wish the monkey would leave, now!”
A lavender glow radiates around the monkey like a halo and then poof—nothing. A tinge of guilt hits me. “He’s going to be okay, right?”
“Oh yes. No harm will come to the animal.”
“Where did he come from?”
“The answer is complicated. Just be assured the monkey is safe.”
“Terrific. So I still have ten wishes, right?”
A furrow forms in his forehead. “Esme, you have eight wishes left.”
“Wait, what? The monkey was your fault.”
“Even if I did not completely fulfill your wish, it counts toward the total.”
My blood pressure skyrockets. “So you mean if you mess up I get screwed?”
“Screwed? What do you mean? There were no mechanical devices involved.”
Ugh. I really need to get him that urban dictionary. “No, it means you made a mistake and now I’m going to pay for it.”
“I am sorry, Esme. Ten wishes are granted and that is all. You have just experienced rule number one. If you reverse a wish, it counts as a wish too. If the wishes are not perfectly executed, it is not the genie’s error.”
If only real life worked by the same rules. “But it’s not fair.”
He hangs his head. “I am sorry you are disappointed. You can wish for me to return to the vase. I shall not bother you any longer.”
On the chance I might actually get one of my wishes granted, I back down. “That’s okay. I’ll give it another try.” I suck in a breath. “I wish for world peace.”
The room doesn’t turn purple. Jin wrings his hands. “Esme, I cannot grant your wish.”
“Why? It’s such a wonderful wish. No more wars just think of it.”
“The rules do not allow such a thing. The wish must be specific to you and your life.”
Crap. I always root for the beauty queens who ask for peace. “Okay. You better tell me the rules. I want to make sure my next wish counts.”
“They are very simple. Rule number two: the wish must be personal to you and your life. I can not stop world hunger or end war.”
“That’s a stupid rule. Just think how much better things would be.”
“Of course, but a genie has no power over the world’s destiny—only our master’s. That leads me to rule number three. Everyone wants either money or power or both. But unless it is your destiny, I can not grant either.”
“So I can’t be the next teenage billionaire?”
“No, Esme.” A serious look crosses his face. “I’m truly sorry, but being extremely wealthy is not your destiny.”
“What good are wishes if they can’t change my life?”
“I understand your frustration, but I did not say you would not be well off.”
Did he just say I might be rich? “So, I won’t be stuck in Long Island forever?”
“You have the potential to live quite an extraordinary life if you use your wishes wisely.”
“That breaks rule number four. A genie can not tell his master what to wish for.”
“But that’s not fair. You know what my life could be!”
“Yes, I have a glimpse of your life’s potential. It is up to you to find your own path.”
My legs give out and I collapse onto the chair. Disney sure has this whole wish thing wrong. It’s frippin hard! “Awesome. Any more rules?”
“Yes, rule number five: the wish can not be fulfilled unless you are in close proximity to your genie.”
I move right next to him. “This close?”
He laughs. “No.” He points across the room. “You can not be further away from me than the far window when you make a wish.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Yes, rule number six: a genie and his master must not form an attachment.”
“So we can’t be friends?”
“No, it means we can not become emotionally attached to one another.”
“Oh...I get it. No genie and master fooling around.”
The familiar furrow forms on his forehead. “Fooling? No Esme, I do not speak in jest.”
Ugh. When will the misunderstandings end? “Look, I’m exhausted. It’s been one heck of a day. Tomorrow I start at my new school.”
“I understand Mistress. But there is one more rule. The most important: if a genie should die after granting all your wishes they will become null and void.”
“You mean genies can be killed?”
“Certainly, Mistress. It is a rare occurrence but it has happened.”
“Don't worry.” I hold back a yawn. “I’m totally harmless.”
He smiles. “So I see.”
“Is that all the rules? I need to get some sleep.”
“Of course, I understand.” He looks hurt. “Yes. That is the final rule. I will retire to the vase.”
“No. It’s okay. You can stay here.”
“Why thank you. I shall be quiet until you awaken.”
“Don’t genies need to sleep?”
“’Tis not necessary.”
“Wow, I’m jealous. Humans have to take all kinds of pills to sleep and drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks to stay awake.”
He picks up my laptop. “Hope you do not mind if I study your electronic typewriter while you slumber.”
“Knock yourself out.”
The familiar puzzled look crosses Jin’s face. I don’t have the energy to explain one more thing. I crawl into bed with my clothes on. My eyes begin to flutter shut. Maybe this has been one big crazy dream.
***
“Dong, dong, dong.”
I wake up with a start. The phone is practically in my face. I always sleep next to it when I have the alarm on. I’m notorious for oversleeping. Plus I never know when I might get a text. I reach over and turn it off.
Jin smiles down at me. “Good morning, Mistress.”
My genie is still here. So much for yesterday being a dream. I slowly push myself up. “It’s Esme, remember?”
“Yes, of course. Esme.”
Feeling a bit self-conscious, I smooth down my T-shirt and get out of bed. The only time I’ve slept near a guy was at Brin’s house at her co-ed sleepover. Guys just never were on my radar. Keeping good grades took all my energy. That is, until I met my ex-boyfriend, Chris. But that didn’t turn out so well. Not only did my GPA take a hit, he only hung around for three months. All I have left of our relationship is his favorite Billabong shirt.
I watch Jin’s eyes as he looks at me. It’s like he can see through my skin to my heart. “I need to get ready for school so I want you to wait in the closet, okay?”
Jin reluctantly heads to the back wall. “Yes. Mist....Esme. Must I stay here indefinitely?”
Good question. After what happened last night do I dare leave him alone in the house?
“Promise you won’t break anything while I’m gone.”
He nods. “Of this you can be certain.”
As I gently push him into the closet, I can’t help notice Jin’s has some nice sized muscles under the old-fashioned tweed suit. One section of the closet is packed with Dad’s old classroom supplies from when he was a teacher, so Jin moves over to the side Dad must have emptied out for me. With him safely behind the door, I study my limited wardrobe which still bulges out of my suitcase. This is a major life moment. What I pick to wear to the first day of school can make or break me. I can't decide between my black skinny jeans and a T-shirt that says, “I Rule” or plain jeans and a faded denim shirt. Do I fake being a tough girl, or try to look so boring no one will notice me? My concentration is broken by a knock on the closet door.
“Esme, it is getting quite hot in here. I am not appropriately dressed for such a confined space. May I come out?”
“Not yet. Just give me a sec.”
A loud sigh comes through the door as I throw on the jeans and shirt. Can’t go wrong with being nondescript.
Jin cracks open the closet door. “Do you have on suitable attire?”
Looking at my poor excuse of an outfit I stuff back a laugh. “Sure. You can come out now.”
Jin takes in my jeans and denim shirt. “Are you going to school on a farm?”
Jeez, do I really look that bad? “No. This is what girls wear to high school.”
“I am used to women looking feminine.” He frowns. “I can not believe dressing like a man is appropriate for an educational institution.”
“Girls today have the freedom to wear what they want. Besides I don’t need to impress anyone.”
“But you are a pretty girl. Why not dress like a lady?”
I toss my backpack over my shoulder. “I prefer pants.”
He gently touches my hand. “I did not mean to offend you.”
A shiver runs up my arm. Chemistry with a genie?
My dad hollers from the hallway. “Esme, I let you sleep in too long. Hurry up. I’ll meet you outside.”
Jin reaches over to my bed and hands me the cell phone. “I do not think you want to forget your device. It seems important enough that you must slumber with it.”
Funny, I never thought about how phone obsessed I am before. “Thanks.” Maybe I should give him my number just in case. “Jin, here’s my phone number. Only call me if it’s an emergency, okay?”
“Mistress, I do not possess such a device.”
I smack my forehead. “Sorry, there’s a phone in the kitchen.”
Jin follows behind me. I stare at the bright orange blob by the back door. Only my Dad would still have a wall-mounted push button phone. I pick up the receiver. “You hold this up to your ear and then you punch the numbers.”
His brow furrows. “There is no necessity to converse with an operator?”
I smile. “We don’t need them anymore. The call goes straight through.”
He watches as I go through the motions and call myself. The cell chirps loudly. “See, it’s that easy.”
Jin nods. “Yes, I understand. The procedure is not that much different from the telephones of my time.”
“Good. Now promise you’ll behave yourself and not get into trouble. You’ll stay right here.”
“Without question, Mistress. I shall do as you ask.”
I take a last peek at him standing by the window and close my bedroom door. His accent makes him seem like the kind of guy who will honor his word. Right? No time to reconsider locking him in the closet. Then I’d be as cruel as his magician Master. I fly out the front door and run down the walkway. My feet stop dead at the curb. Dad is sitting in a bright orange convertible GTO. His 70s obsession has spread to cars. I scope out the dash. An 8-track, classic. Can’t wait to hear what comes out of the stereo.
He beams. “Isn’t she a beauty? Turns a lot of heads.”
I throw my pack in the backseat and put on my sunglasses. The glare from the hood burns my eyes. “I’ll bet.”
He revs the engine, and we take
off down the street lined with ranch houses from his favorite era. Figures he’d find the one block in all of Long Island that is stuck in the past. The air is crisp with a hint of pine. I snuggle into my fleece hoodie wondering how long it will take for my California blood to get used to New York weather.
We speed around curves until I see signs for Grover High. Dad backs off the throttle. “I’m going to drop you off at the counselor’s office. Ms. Crandy will go over your class schedule.”
I force a smile. “Terrific.”
“Have to say I was pleased when I saw your school records. Had no idea you were a straight-A student.”
With Grandma in charge I didn’t have a choice. “You sound surprised.”
“Sorry. It’s just when you were younger you hated school.”
“A lot of things changed after you took off.”
He winces. At first I feel bad. I promised to play nice. It’s just such hard work. I guess he thinks I should be over the fact that both of my parents abandoned me.
Dad drives past a large brick building. Grover High is not ivy-covered, but a slightly worn-around-the-edges middle class version. A lot of the kids are smiling as they walk across the large green lawn toward the wood paneled front doors. They don’t seem to dread learning like the kids back in California. They’re dressed kind of preppy, so different from the surfers and hipsters back in LA.
Dad pulls into the school parking lot. There’s a large sign in front of his spot: Principal Warren. It’s funny to see my last name in big blue letters. Back home the name seemed like a piece of a missing puzzle. The only fragment of my family I had left. Here, Warren is the name of the campus big shot—Dad.
My dad pats his hair down and hops over the door of the convertible. “We need to head to the counselor’s office pronto. I want your classes all set up and to have you tour the campus before we head home for lunch.”
I can’t believe my good fortune. I had nightmares about lunch period torture. Never been to a school where the new kid doesn’t get grief. Especially when they find out I’m the principal’s daughter. “We’re going home for lunch? You’re the principal, aren't you on call or something?”
He laughs. “I’ve been here for over ten years. Think I’ve earned the right to go home for lunch. Besides, I bought a house near the school for a reason.”