Heavenly Returns

by Karin De Havin

All my love forever,

  Grandma

  It’s kind of strange that Grandma left me a vase. But the worst part of the note is being reminded she’s gone all over again. I miss her smile and sense of humor so much. I kick at my roller bag. Oh, Grandma, why did you have to die? Like some stupid piece of ceramic is going to be a substitute for the person I loved.

  My new bedroom doesn’t help my mood. The grass cloth covered walls, bright turquoise drapes, and Indian paisley bedspread scream 1970’s. It’s so very different from my grandmother’s home chalked full of beautiful antiques. Hope Grandma's is right about my life getting better.

  I put the vase up on the dresser. “I promise to take good care of you.” To make sure it’s safe, I nudge the vase back a few more inches. I give it a gentle pat like a puppy. “Maybe you’ll bring me luck.”

  My father’s voice bellows through the half-open bedroom door. “Esme, I thought you were going to take a nap. Who are you talking to?”

  “Ah…I’ve got a friend on the phone.”

  “Well, don’t talk too long. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I glance out the window hoping to see a pizza delivery guy—no luck. The sun creeps past the window but the vase continues to glow. I wonder if the spark of energy I felt was just a fluke. Running my finger along the blue dragon’s tail, the pulse of electricity is stronger this time. A puff of mist escapes from the mouth. I reel backward as the vapor drifts like a smoke signal up to the ceiling.

  No way!

  Grandma has to be playing a final trick on me. She always said in her next life she’d be a magician. The room quickly fills with mist. It’s like I’ve turned on a giant vaporizer. I have to back into the corner to breathe. The scent of jasmine and old newspaper hits my nose. Somehow the air is thicker. It tickles the back of my throat as I suck in big gulps to fill my lungs.

  The air slowly begins to clear. A large shape is forming by the dresser. My heart races as I move closer. A young guy stands next to the window wearing a tailored tweed suit topped off by a bowler hat. He’s dressed like a character from Downton Abbey. He’s even wearing a monocle. Could the vase be some kind of time machine? How else could some old-fashioned guy be standing in my bedroom? I grab onto the wall for support. “This can’t be happening!”

  The guy gives me a quick glance and then sniffs his suit jacket. “What is causing you dismay? Do I have an unpleasant fragrance?”

  I focus on his face. He’s just a bit older than me and quite handsome in a dashing hero kind of way. I feel my cheeks flush. “Oh …no.”

  He tips his hat. “I am Jin. At your service.”

  My vision blurs. I grab onto the chair to keep from fainting. “Where did you come from?”

  A pleasant smile crosses his lips as he points to the vase. “From the porcelain vessel.”

  “Yeah, I know. I mean originally?”

  “That is an exceedingly long tale. All you need to know is that I am here to serve you. I have the power to grant you ten wishes of your choosing.”

  I stumble backward and fall onto the bed. “Wait a sec. You’re a genie?”

  “Most certainly.” He gives me a quick bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mistress.”

  “Yeah, right.” This can’t be real. I touch my forehead. It’s hot and clammy.

  “I see you are having a hard time comprehending your good fortune. To be expected.”

  “Okay. If you’re a genie why aren’t you dressed in some kind of Arabian costume? What’s with the ten wishes? Aladdin only got three.”

  Jin pulls the chair up next to me. “The legend of Aladdin is but a myth. A story to tell children at bedtime. I am from the Victorian era.”

  “No way. I saw the Disney movie.”

  Creases form on his forehead. “I do not know what or who Disney is but I assure you, Jin speaks the truth.”

  Can I really be having a conversation with a magical being? I suddenly realize I’m gasping for air again. It’s like all the oxygen has left the room.

  He hands me the glass of water by my bed. “Please regain your composure. I possess no smelling salts to revive you.”

  I take a series of yoga breaths and reach out and touch his hand. His skin is warmer than mine. “I’m sorry. This is a lot for me to take in.”

  “No need to apologize, Mistress. I am used to this type of response. Especially with a female.”

  Terrific. Nothing like being reduced to a cliché. I throw back my shoulders. “First off, call me Esme. Second, I may be a girl but I’m not stupid.”

  He bows his head. “I did not mean to offend you, Esme.”

  “Sorry. I’m just not used to the way you talk. You sound like Darcy. A character from one of my Jane Austen novels.”

  Jin places the bowler hat on the bed revealing a headful of brown wavy hair. “Regrettably, I am not familiar with the author. I must admit I do not understand many of the things you say, either.”

  I let out a sigh. “Don’t you understand slang?”

  “Oh, yes. I am familiar with slang.”

  “Terrific. Now I won’t have a meltdown.”

  “Meltdown? I do not know this term. What does it mean?”

  “That’s how I felt when I first saw you. Like I wanted to collapse.”

  A furrow formed between his brows. “Meltdown means collapse?”

  “Yep. Seems like slang has changed a bit since the nineteenth century. I’ll have to see if I can find you a copy of the urban dictionary so you can understand me.”

  His back stiffens. “I do not need the aid of a book to facilitate my occupation.”

  Jin is one proud genie. “Okay, let’s just play it by ear.”

  “Your ear is musical?”

  This is going to be harder than I thought. The sound of a metallic chirping bird makes Jin jump off his chair.

  “Sorry, it’s my friend phoning me. I’ll call her back later.”

  Jin’s brown eyes grow large and his monocle pops out. He stares at the iPhone in my hand. “What is that strange contraption? Why does it sound like a bird?”

  “You didn’t have telephones in your time?”

  “Certainly. They were far grander and sounded very different. Not like an animal.”

  “The bird chirp is instead of a bell ringing. You can pick any sound you want.” I switch the ringtone to a train whistle and push the button.

  Choo, choo.

  Jin’s shoulders flinch like the train materialized in the room. “The sound is disconcerting.”

  A voice booms from the kitchen. “Esme, get off the phone. Dinner is ready!”

  Oh crap. Can’t let Dad bust me with a genie in my room. “Guess you better pop back into the vase.”

  “Please do not command me to go back inside.”

  “Aren’t there big fluffy cushions for you to lounge on?”

  A puzzled look crosses his face. “Where did you get that notion?”

  “On reruns of I Dream of Jeannie.”

  “I do not have such luxurious accommodations as the genie you speak of. My former master was one of the most famous magicians of his time, but he was a cruel and bitter man. He designed the vase to be like a prison. The inside has dull gray walls that are caked with dirt. There is no place to rest my head.”

  “Wow, that sounds awful.”

  “Indeed. It is quite unpleasant. May I stay in your bedchamber?”

  “Sure.” The way he says bedchamber makes my cheeks flush. “Just be quiet. Don’t want my dad to know you’re here.”

  He watches me as I reach for the door. “I look forward to your return.” He points to my laptop. “You can demonstrate how to use the devices in your room.”

  “There’s been so many inventions since the eighteen hundreds. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

  Jin looks sad to see me go. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” I walk over to my nightstand and pick up a copy of Seventeen Magazine. “Here, read this while I’m gone.”


  He nods. “I will do as you say, Mistress.”

  I can’t blame Jin for not understanding. Growing up in my grandmother’s Queen Anne cottage, I know what a shock my dad’s 70’s home must be. All the new inventions make it even more overwhelming.

  Waving goodbye, I head for my dad’s kitchen chock full of avocado-green appliances sandwiched between drab wood cabinetry. A mint-greenFormica table is set with two blue bowls. To the side sits a plastic fork and knife set like the ones you get from a take-out joint. Looks like Dad’s going all-out for my welcome home dinner. I sit down and face a bowl overflowing with Kraft mac and cheese. He must still think I’m nine.

  I watch Dad as he washes a spoon off in the sink. He’s thinner than I remember and not nearly as tall. He plops down on the chair across from me. “Dig in.”

  Tearing open the cellophane to get to the plastic fork, I try to act normal—or whatever normal is when you have a genie in your bedroom. Not to mention you haven’t seen your Dad in years. I dig into the cheesy blob. “Yum…my.”

  He beams. “Thought you’d like it. I knew it was your favorite. ”

  Guess he forgot it’s what he made for dinner the night my parents had a huge fight and my mother stormed out of the house never to return.

  “Esme, I know this must be hard on you. Moving here after what happened to your grandmother. But think of how great it will be to get to know each other again.”

  I loved how he wanted me to whisk away my grief. He never loved Grandma. She wasn’t part of his family, just the mother of one of his wives. Still, I have to give him credit for putting on a brave face. He must be less than thrilled to have his long, lost teenaged daughter move in. After all, he took a job clear across the country to avoid me. “Sorry to hear about your divorce.”

  He runs his long fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Seems I’m no good at marriage.”

  No kidding. Since he divorced my mother he’d married two more times. No wonder he has so much grey in his hair. I give him a weak smile. “Can’t be good at everything.”

  Dad reaches over to touch my hand, but I pull it back just out of reach. Somehow he still feels like a stranger.

  He ignores how awkward the moment is. “Thanks for understanding. You’re so grown-up.”

  “Right. I’m seventeen.”

  “A very mature seventeen.”

  On the plane ride to New York, I told myself to play nice with my dad. If I’ve learned one thing from having the person I love die, it’s that life is short. “Thanks. I try.”

  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.”

  About the Author

  Karin De Havin writes Young Adult fantasies as well as Women’s sweet contemporary romance stories from her timber frame home in the Pacific Northwest. She lives with a pair of tuxedo cats that like to help her write by jumping on the keyboard, and her pianist husband who occasionally is known to wear a tuxedo and tinker with the keyboard too.

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