If Wishing Made It So

by Lucy Finn

  Deeply troubled by this, Hildy asked the genie what he’d prefer to do instead of being cast back into oblivion in his bottle, adrift on the sea or lost in the desert sands.

  Tony G. didn’t answer quickly but at last he said he wanted a job of work. He wanted a purpose. He did not desire to be human even if such a thing were possible. He would never willingly give up his magical powers, but he didn’t want to be bored. What he needed was an existence filled with excitement, with importance, with meaning—the qualities that from the beginning of time gave substance to life.

  His confession surprised her. His pain reached her soul and tore at her heart. After all, she held his future in her own hands. To wish, or not to wish, would make all the difference.

  The stars were out and the moon was high when Hildy pulled her little red car onto the shoulder of the narrow, unlit two-lane highway a short distance south of the Sleep-E-Z Motor Lodge. The genie told her to move it a little farther until it was partially hidden by some holly bushes. After that, she switched off the lights and parked.

  She peered into the bottle. The genie, now only about two inches high, stood on the other side of the amber glass. She asked him if he could see where Mike was right now, at this very moment.

  He crossed his arms and frowned. ‘‘I am not God!’’ he shouted. ‘‘I am not omniscient. I’m a genie. My vision is little better than yours.’’

  ‘‘Oh,’’ she said. ‘‘I thought you might know.’’

  ‘‘I don’t,’’ he yelled. ‘‘Can’t you let me out of here! It’s dark. We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one can see me.’’

  ‘‘Oh, all right,’’ she conceded and pulled the cork out of the bottle.

  A murky gray smoke, tinged with sulfurous yellow like a noxious fog, spilled over the sides of the bottle. A second later a decidedly grumpy genie sat in the passenger seat of the small red car. ‘‘I get cramped in there, you know.’’

  ‘‘No, I didn’t know. I thought you had rugs and cushions and all the comforts you could want.’’

  ‘‘Not likely. I was imprisoned in there, remember. It’s more like a cell.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’’ Hildy felt terrible. Her lip trembled.

  ‘‘Oh no, not tears,’’ he muttered under his breath. Aloud he said, ‘‘Ms. Caldwell, don’t get upset. I might have been exaggerating about the austerity of my quarters. But never mind that. I wanted to be out because I think we probably have some time before Mike and his partner show up, if they’re going to show up. Let’s take a look around.’’

  ‘‘I thought the place was filled with security cameras and booby-trapped.’’ Hildy didn’t sound at all enthusiastic about traipsing around in strange woods in the dark.

  ‘‘It is, but the cameras are only around the perimeter of the motel, and I know where the explosives are buried. We’ll be safe. Come on.’’ One minute Tony G. sat solid as flesh and blood in the passenger seat. The next instant he simply appeared outside of the car. He tapped on Hildy’s window.

  ‘‘Hurry up,’’ he urged.

  ‘‘Oh, all right,’’ she said. ‘‘But I’ll get out by opening the door, thank you.’’

  Warning her to stay close behind him, the genie led the way, slipping carefully in and out between the scrub pines. Fortunately the forest floor of the Pine Barrens is a huge basin of light golden sand, the remains of a long-vanished sea. It reflected enough moonlight to make it possible for Hildy to see where she was walking. But low branches snagged her clothing and the pine needles scratched her arms like mean children’s fingernails. An owl hooted. In the underbrush, an eerie rustling came from the movement of scampering things. A rabbit darted past.

  Hildy’s heart beat fast. ‘‘Where are we going?’’ she whispered, holding on to the back of Tony’s toga.

  ‘‘To the rear parking lot,’’ the genie replied. ‘‘I think what Mike hopes to find is there.’’

  A few minutes later, Tony G. was peering under tarps. ‘‘As Archimedes once said, ‘Eureka, I’ve found it.’ ’’

  ‘‘That’s terrific. Can we go now?’’ Hildy’s anxiety was reaching new heights.

  ‘‘Wait. Look over there. See those speed bumps on the driveway into this lot?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I see them. Why?’’

  ‘‘They’re filled with explosives. As soon as an intruder drives over one, ka-boom! All of Jimmy the Bug’s crew know enough to avoid them.’’

  Hildy had a vivid image of Mike innocently pulling into the Sleep-E-Z and his car exploding into a thousand burning pieces. She shuddered. ‘‘Can we get out of here?’’ Her teeth chattered when she spoke despite the warm night air.

  ‘‘Wait, Jimmy the Bug set more booby traps. If somebody tries to walk back here, like we did, there are trip wires all over the place.’’

  ‘‘You mean I could have stepped on one?’’ Hildy thought she was going to hyperventilate.

  ‘‘I led you around them, but you do have to watch where you’re walking.’’

  ‘‘I really want to get out of here!’’ She tugged at the genie’s toga.

  ‘‘We should see if Jimmy the Bug is on the premises.’’

  ‘‘I see lights on. That’s good enough for me. Come on, I don’t want to take a chance on Mike and his partner slipping by us.’’

  ‘‘And I was beginning to have a good time,’’ Tony G. sighed.

  ‘‘I don’t care! I just want to keep Mike from driving back here and getting blown up!’’

  Hurrying as much as they dared, Tony G. and Hildy returned to the car, barely in time to see a flatbed tractor trailer rumble past. It turned in at the Sleep-E-Z. The headlights of another car appeared on the highway a few moments later.

  ‘‘Duck!’’ the genie ordered and pushed Hildy’s head out of sight below the roof of the car.

  The headlights passed them by and pulled into the motel’s driveway. Hildy and Tony peeked out from behind the VW.

  ‘‘We need to see what’s going on,’’ the genie said. ‘‘Are you ready to wish?’’

  ‘‘Yes, and I wish I didn’t have to,’’ she answered in a soft voice.

  ‘‘Well, remember what we rehearsed and be careful what you wish for.’’

  Hildy nodded and they raced toward the motel in time to see that two men had emerged from a bronze Ford Fusion and were moving cautiously toward the single lighted room in the motel. Hildy knew one of them was Mike. She saw him remove a gun from his waistband and hold it at his side. The tall black man with him did the same.

  The genie said, ‘‘You don’t have much time.’’

  Just then the Ford exploded with a terrible bang. Gunfire went crack, crack, crack. The door to the motel room flew open—

  ‘‘Wish, Ms. Caldwell!’’

  ‘‘I wish that all bullets are blanks, all explosives are duds, all weapons are useless, and Michael is unharmed,’’ she said quickly.

  Nothing else blew up, but the noise of gunfire continued. When no one fell to the ground or screamed, even when Michael and his partner were in point-blank range, the two thugs who had been driving the flatbed trailer came racing around the side of the motel. They rushed at Mike and Jake and began throwing punches. Soon all four of the men were rolling around on the ground. Hildy winced at the sound of the blows.

  While the fight raged on, a third man, short and stocky, came through the open motel room door, looked around, and ran toward the woods. Hildy was too worried about what was happening to Mike to worry about the portly man’s escape. Then the fighting stopped. She saw Mike stand up.

  ‘‘Okay, let’s go!’’ the genie insisted, tugging on her arm. ‘‘We’ve done all we can.’’

  He and Hildy turned and ran toward her car. When they reached it, Hildy threw herself into her seat and the genie showed up instantly in his. She felt excited and exhilarated. Mike was safe. Everything was going to be okay.

  She threw the Volkswagen into gear and pulled onto the highway.

  It was w
hen she had driven a few hundred feet and was about to pass by the Sleep-E-Z Motor Lodge that things went from all right to all wrong.

  Chapter 25

  Mike stood in the road, flagging her down.

  ‘‘Oh my god!’’ she cried out. She snapped her head toward Tony G. ‘‘Get in your bottle. Get in there now!’’

  Where the genie had been sitting was suddenly simply air.

  She pulled off the road and Mike ran over to the car. She rolled down her window.

  ‘‘Hildy! I don’t believe it! What an incredible thing. Why are you here?’’ His face was dirty, his shirt was torn, but he appeared otherwise unharmed.

  ‘‘I—I was visiting a friend, another teacher from the high school. She lives in, in’’—Hildy thought frantically for the name of a town she had seen on a nearby road sign—‘‘in Vineland! But why are you here? It’s the middle of nowhere.’’

  ‘‘I’ll explain later. Come on, you can help me get Jake to your car. He’s hurt. My cell phone doesn’t have any service out here. We need to get Jake to a hospital and get hold of the cops.’’

  ‘‘Okay,’’ Hildy said. ‘‘Sure. But excuse me a minute!’’ She smiled brightly before suddenly ducking out of sight under the dashboard.

  Mike was baffled about what she was doing. Maybe she was tying her shoes, he thought.

  In fact Hildy knocked the bottle on the floor and deftly stashed it under the front seat. Then she jumped out of the car. ‘‘Let’s go!’’ she called. She joined Mike and they hurried up the long driveway together, past the empty swimming pool and toward the building.

  ‘‘Why didn’t you use the motel’s landline to call nine-one-one?’’ she huffed as she ran by Mike’s side.

  ‘‘Can’t,’’ he said. ‘‘Look.’’

  ‘‘Oh … oh my.’’ Hildy’s eyes went round as saucers. Flames leaped out of the motel’s windows and through the open door where the little man had run. She guessed that the explosion of the rental car had sent debris onto the motel roof and set the place on fire. ‘‘I didn’t think of this,’’ she moaned.

  ‘‘What?’’ Mike asked.

  ‘‘Oh, nothing. Is your partner hurt badly?’’ Her concern was palpable. She hadn’t thought to include Jake specifically in the wish either.

  ‘‘No. Nothing life-threatening. He may have dislocated his shoulder and sprained an ankle. He’s in some pain and he can’t walk. The two guys that attacked us are out cold though. It was the weirdest damned thing. They kept shooting at us, but they couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.’’

  ‘‘Well, did you shoot them?’’ she asked innocently.

  ‘‘No, my gun wouldn’t fire. It’s brand-new. Must have been defective or something.’’ By that time they had reached Jake, who sat on the grass; the light of the flames backlit him with an orange glow.

  ‘‘Hey Jake, you’ll never believe this. Guess who I flagged down. It’s Hildy! She was passing right by.’’

  Jake looked at the blond young woman dressed entirely in black who stood in front of him. He looked at Mike. ‘‘Come again?’’

  ‘‘I just happened to be driving by,’’ Hildy said. ‘‘It was an amazing coincidence.’’

  Jake gave her a funny look. ‘‘Yeah, it sure was.’’

  ‘‘Mike,’’ she said, staring intently at Jake, aware at once that Mike’s partner didn’t believe her at all. ‘‘Let me go back to my car and drive it up here as close to Jake as I can get it. It will make it easier to get him inside without him moving much.’’ With that she whirled around and escaped from Jake’s suspicious glare by running down the driveway as fast as she could.

  When she got to the dark, narrow highway, she stopped. She tried to make sense of what she was seeing … which was nothing. The road was empty. Her car was gone, and with it, the genie in his bottle hidden under the seat was gone too.

  Mike heard Hildy scream. He spun around and went running to see what had happened. He knew right away her car had been stolen and that Jimmy the Bug, who had fled the scene, must have taken it.

  When he explained that to Hildy, she became hysterical, babbling about some bottle she had left in the car. He did everything he could to calm her down. He told her the police would look for her car, and if they didn’t find it, he’d buy her one, he promised.

  His words didn’t help. She wailed louder.

  He assured her that she didn’t need to worry. Help was coming. He could hear fire engines in the distance.

  She sniffed and calmed down, but she appeared to be thoroughly distraught. She took his outstretched hand and walked back to the burning lodge.

  When they got to Jake, his partner was adamant that Mike go around to the back of the motel to see if any of the stolen construction equipment was stashed back there. Mike said sure and started to leave.

  ‘‘Take a goddamn pad and pencil with you to write down the VIN numbers. I didn’t go through all this bullshit for nothing,’’ Jake shouted angrily at Mike.

  Mike mouthed at Hildy, He’s in a lot of pain. Aloud he said, ‘‘I’ll be back in a couple minutes. Keep your eye on those guys.’’ He nodded at Sal and Joey, the two unconscious men. ‘‘I don’t think they’re anything to worry about though.’’ Then he trotted off.

  Keeping her distance, Hildy tried to avoid Jake’s probing scrutiny, but he spoke to her anyway, his anger pouring out.

  ‘‘What are you really doing here, sweetheart? Don’t give me whatever phony story you gave Mike. He doesn’t think straight when it comes to you.’’

  Hildy turned to Jake with stricken eyes. ‘‘You won’t believe me if I tell you the truth.’’

  ‘‘Try me.’’

  ‘‘Okay.’’ Hildy began talking as fast as she could. ‘‘I found a genie in a bottle that really belonged to Jimmy the Bug. And the genie knew all about this place being booby-trapped, so when I found out from my sister that you and Mike might follow those thieves back here, I thought Mike was going to be killed and I got in the car and the genie came with me and you and Mike showed up and walked right into the booby traps so I wished that your guns wouldn’t work and the explosives wouldn’t blow up and Mike wouldn’t get hurt. Then the genie and I ran back to my car and I was going to get out of here but Mike was in the middle of the road, flagging me down. What could I do?’’

  ‘‘You’re right,’’ Jake said. ‘‘I don’t believe you. I don’t know what you’re pulling or how you got here, but I’m going to find out. I promise you that.’’ He glared at her.

  Hildy looked at him and said, ‘‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me and I’m sorry you got hurt. You weren’t supposed to. I didn’t wish carefully enough.’’

  At that moment a fire truck, its siren blaring, pulled up the Sleep-E-Z Motor Lodge’s driveway. Firemen in heavy gear jumped off and started pulling on hoses. One of them came running over, yelling to somebody behind him, ‘‘We’ve got injured over here!’’

  Two ambulances came screaming up the driveway a little while later. Jake and Jimmy the Bug’s men were scooped up and taken away. The state police had arrived as well. Mike and Hildy spent the next several hours at the local barracks, giving statements about what happened.

  Hildy didn’t have much to say, except that her car got stolen. They promised to put out an APB on the little red Volkswagen being driven by a notorious criminal. They told her not to get her hopes up though.

  She had to hope. She had to find her car and get Tony G. back. She prayed too. She prayed that Jimmy the Bug wouldn’t ever look under the front seat. She thought he might not. She couldn’t bear to think what would happen if he did.

  Anxiety warred with grief and worry over the genie’s fate and her own future, but there wasn’t anything more she could do tonight. She’d have to worry about the bottle tomorrow. Finally fatigue overtook her; all she wanted was to get back to her cottage and her cats. She wouldn’t rest until she knew everything was safe and that Jimmy the Bug hadn’t gone to Ship Bottom to lie in wait.
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  A young officer was kind enough to take Mike and Hildy all the way back to Atlantic City. She dropped them off in front of the Hertz car rental office at Midlantic Jet Aviation, out on Tilton Road, the only rental agency within a hundred miles that was open twenty-four/seven.

  Mike had suggested that Hildy stay with him at the hotel, but she insisted she needed to get to Long Beach Island. She appeared fragile and distraught, in a way he had never seen her before.

  Since it was close to four a.m., the baggy-eyed clerk appeared to be functioning courtesy of constant refills of his coffee cup. He told them the only vehicle available was a four-wheel-drive Chevy Suburban—at a premium price.

  Beggars can’t be choosers. Mike took it without a complaint.

  On the drive back to Ship Bottom, neither of them talked much. Mike did tell Hildy he had broken up with Kiki. She nodded and gave him a small smile. He pulled her close to him, his left hand on the steering wheel, his right arm around her shoulders, as he did when they were teens. He suggested she put her head on his shoulder and sleep.

  She felt warm and protected, but she couldn’t rest. Instead she said to Mike, ‘‘Mike, you trust me, don’t you?’’

  ‘‘Of course I do. I’ve never known you to lie, not to me, not to anyone.’’

  She sighed. ‘‘Then you need to listen to me. The bottle that was in my car, I have to get it back. You’re a detective now, right?’’

  ‘‘Yep, I’m official. I have a license and everything.’’

  ‘‘Then I want to hire you to recover my bottle. I don’t care about the car. Just get the bottle back.’’

  He gave her a squeeze and kissed her on the temple. ‘‘Hildy, you don’t need to hire me. I’ll do what I can to find it. Why is it so important to you?’’

  ‘‘That’s why I need you to trust me. I can’t tell you. It’s … it’s a secret. It involves somebody else, whose life depends on finding that bottle. Mike, I mean that—a life literally depends on my getting that bottle back.’’ Her throat closed up as she spoke. She felt close to tears and held them back. Crying would accomplish nothing. She had to be strong, not fall apart.