From: rbenson@pacificnet.net
Date: Fri, 15 Nov 1996 17:33:48 -0800
Subject: Story: SRU- Three Wishes
Three Wishes
Michael looked out the bay window at the thickening clouds. "Do
you really think it's gonna snow tonight, Mom?" He walked into the kitchen
where his mother was preparing both dinner and the favors for her son's
birthday party that evening.
"Yep. Weatherman says it's gonna be the earliest snowfall in
years. Pity it's coming on Halloween, let's hope it holds off until after
both the trick-or-treaters and your friends can get home."
Halloween. For most kids, it was a day to wander the streets
dressed as cowboys or vampires or even these days Power Rangers (Michael's
mom was oh-so-glad that her son preferred the Disney stuff, especially that
Aladdin show) and get a bunch of candy. For Michael, it was a double
holiday, which meant having the biggest party in the neighborhood every
year. This year was trebly special, as it was Friday night, and the kids
could stay later than last year.
"Anything I can do to help, Mom?" Michael looked around the
kitchen, trying to find something to occupy his time. She looked over at
him and smiled, "You can set the table and feed your dog." She paused,
then added, "and you can open _one_ present before your father gets home,
okay?"
Michael beamed. "Okay!" He quickly put three place settings out
and went to the kitchen door, walking outside in the brisk air. Clouds
continued to build, those high wispy ones he liked so much.
"Sasha! Sasha, c'mon, girl, supper!" he cried out. He looked down
and across the street into the woods, scanning for her. "C'mon, Sasha,
come and get it!" An explosion of brush and a streak of tan fur zipped
across the street and up the driveway, barely hugging the curving walkway
before nearly toppling the boy as it entered the house. A wet nose
snuffled under Michael's hand as the shepherd looked expectantly at her
food dish, then back to her owner.
"Michael, how many times have I told you to fix her dinner first
before calling her, you know how excited she gets." His mom opened the
oven and checked the turkey. "Try not to spill anything, I just cleaned up
while you were at school."
"Yeah Mom, I won't." Michael opened up the pantry and took out
Sasha's bowl and dry food. She started leaping around in expectation.
"Easy girl, you're not a puppy anymore, and today's your birthday, too!"
Michael tried to calm her down by talking to her. It seemed to help a
little bit. He had wanted a dog so badly when he was ten, but his parents
decided to wait until his next birthday to get him Sasha. This was only
after he proved to them that he was responsible enough to take care of an
animal.
Three years later, he hadn't let them down. He didn't know when
Sasha's real birthday was, so he celebrated her birthday on his own. Some
of his friends got the dog presents too, his mom thought that was a nice
gesture.
The dry food spilled into the bowl noisily, making Sasha jump more,
trying to get to her meal. "No!" Michael said, opening the fridge to get
the gravy to pour over the kibbles. Sasha wasn't having it, she jumped up
at Michael, hitting him just as he turned with the ladle full of her
favorite treat.
Michael was knocked back into the counter, causing the gravy to
fall from his hand. The ceramic pourer arced in perfect slow motion,
ending its short descent by smashing into a half dozen pieces on the floor,
a shower of gravy raining down around it.
"Sasha! No! Stop! Oh, Mom!" She turned around, and shook her
head, then smiled. "Pick up the pieces before she tries to eat them, Mike.
I think Sasha will clean up the mess for you." Mike looked a bit
downtrodden as he picked up the broken pot. "Sasha... Oh well, here's
your food anyhow." He set the dish down next to the dwindling puddle of
gravy, momentarily giving the dog too many choices. She spent the next
three minutes alternating between the floor and the food bowl before
finishing up all that was before her.
She barked in appreciation, and curled up next to the fireplace to
take a nap. Michael's mom checked the food once more, and satisfied that
the gravy was cleaned up, walked back to the bedroom. She brought back a
small package wrapped with the characters from Michael's favorite show.
"Here, Mike, this should brighten your spirits, it's from your Uncle Alex
down in the city."
It did. Michael looked at the wrapping, forgetting the mishap.
"Wow! Aladdin paper! Can I keep it?" His mom didn't see why not. He
carefully unwrapped the gift, looking at the nondescript box enclosed. "Go
on, open it." His mom smiled as her son lifted the lid and removed the
present inside.
"Oh wow! Cool! A genie lamp! This is great! Just like Aladdin!"
He paused for a second, his smile managing to widen even more. "Even
better, we can use it for Sasha's gravy! And it's metal, so she won't
break it this time! Sasha! Come look!" The dog lifted her head and
glanced at what the boy was waving around, sniffed once, then set her head
back down to drift back into sleep.
"Yes, you can use it for her gravy, but clean it up first, okay?"
Michael looked over the lamp and lifted the lid. "It's really dirty
inside, Mom, I'm gonna put it in the dishwasher." She nodded as a car
pulled up in the driveway. "Dad's home, go clean up, dinner's ready."
The meal went smoothly enough, Mike's parents discussing the chance
that they might have the biggest sleep-over of the year if the storm moved
in early. The dishes went into the dishwasher, which was then turned on,
humming silently in the background as the final preparations were being
made for the party.
Soon enough, the doorbell rang, and the first few kids began to
show up for the party. A half hour later, a half dozen children were
running around, quickly filling the house. Michael's mom brought in a tray
of sodas when Sasha bumped up against her legs. "Mike? Would you let the
dog out, I think she needs to go." Just then, the front doorbell rang.
"Hon, will you get that, it's more trick-or-treaters." She weaved her way
around the kids and handed them each a Coke. Her husband came back into the
room. "Who was it?" she asked her husband as Michael returned from letting
the dog out. He took his pop. "It was the Gallow kids, dressed up like
gangsters. Mike, why didn't you invite them?"
"Dad, they're the school bullies, they hate me. They're just
trouble." His dad nodded and went back to his post to await another
doorbell ring, kind of glad that this was his year to deal with the
costumed set. Soon the party was in full force, and it was time for the
presents.
Michael wasn't let down again this year. Dozens of toys came his
way, and then the final two presents came out, both from his parents. The
kids ooh'd and ahh'd at the size of the larger one, with Michael just
staring at it. The smaller package was ripped open in short time. "Oh,
cool- the Aladdin movie! Thanks, Mom, thanks, Dad!" It was set aside
briefly in favor of the larger present.
Michael unwrapped it just as enthusiastically, and gasped. "A
doghouse! Oh cool, Sasha will love this, wow!" He looked around for his
pet. "She's still outside. Ah wow, she's gonna love this. Thanks!!" He
looked over the new accommodations for his dog, and beamed. Just then, the
front doorbell rang again.
"That's funny, it's only 9:00... who could that be?" Michael's dad
opened the front door to see Bobby's mother standing shivering on the
porch. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sanders, but the storm's here, and I wanted to get
my son before the roads got too bad."
"Please, come in. Bobby! Your mom's here!" A groan came up from
the peanut gallery. He glanced outside at the first flakes of winter
falling outside. "They say how much we're supposed to get?"
Bobby gathered up his things and thanked Michael for inviting him.
"About 6 inches, maybe more.... Really unusual for this time of year, I'm
afraid." Michael's dad nodded as Bobby trudged out into the night with his
mom.
It didn't take long for the party to clear out at that point.
Seemed the local TV stations had put out weather advisories, bringing all
the parents calling for their kids early. By 9:45 the last party-goer had
been ushered out the door, leaving an exhausted Michael and two more
exhausted parents surveying the damage.
"Bedtime, Mike! Go get Sasha, she's probably dying of cold out
there." Mike went to the door and called for his dog. "Sasha, c'mon,
girl! Sasha!" She didn't come to his call. "C'mon, Sasha, it's getting
cold! Mom, she's not coming."
"That's okay, Mike, she's built for this kind of weather, she's
probably taken shelter from the storm. She can take care of herself,
y'know. She'll be back in the morning." Mike nodded, and looked around.
"Anything I can do to help out?"
"You can unload the dishwasher, kid." Mike nodded, and popped into
the kitchen, putting the dishes away. "Hey, Mom? Can I put the turkey
gravy in the fridge?"
"Sure, just don't make a mess, okay?" Mike and his mom both burst
out into laughter, leaving his Dad out of the joke. Soon enough,
everything was put away, and Mike's mom was tucking her son in.
"Thanks for everything, Mom, it was great." She kissed him
goodnight and turned off the light. "Mom?" "Yes, dear?" "You sure
Sasha's gonna be okay in the storm?" "Of course, Mike. Dogs have been
around a lot longer than us, they take care of themselves. See you in the
morning."
Mike was asleep seconds after the light went out as the snow
continued to pile up outside.
Bright sunshine woke Michael early, and he looked outside at the
brilliant white landscape that greeted him. "Oh man! We got a ton of
snow!" He hopped out of bed and put on some clothes. His parents were
drinking morning coffee when he looked around. "Where's Sasha?" he asked.
"We just got up ourselves, Mike. Why don't you go get her?"
Michael opened the door and called for his dog. "Sasha, c'mere!
C'mon pup!" He looked out at the woods, and thought he saw some movement,
and smiled. "C'mon, girl! Get inside, you have to see what we got for
you!" The dog trudged out of the snow slowly... too slowly. Mike looked
a bit concerned as the shepherd collapsed into a snowdrift, then got back
up. Concern turned to fear and worry as he saw a bright crimson stain left
behind where the dog had fallen.
"MOM!!!! DAD!!! Sasha's hurt!" Mike ran to the closet to get his
boots and coat, and was out the door before his parents could see what was
the matter. Michael was across the street, tramping through a foot of snow
to get to his dog, who was barely able to make across the street to their
front yard. "Sasha! No. No!" Michael could see a huge gash mark across
her shoulder, and worse yet, a pair of large cuts on her rear flank. The
cuts were far too regular to have been made by anything but a knife. Her
fur was matted down by a mass of drying blood and dirt.
Sasha had lost a lot of blood, and was very weak, but tried her
best to lick Michael's face as he dropped to his knees in front of her.
Michael's father appeared next to him, his face ashen. His son turned to
look at him, "Do something, Dad, she's hurt." Michael's father kneeled
next to his son and rubbed his shoulder, nodding. "Stay here with her, try
to keep her calm, okay?" He turned, and ran back to the house, looking
with worry to his wife.
"What happened?" she asked, incredulously. "I don't know," he
said. "All I know is that dog needs a vet, and fast." He flipped open the
phone book and called, fingers stabbing at the phone. It rang... and
rang...
"Thank you for calling the Green Valley Veterinary Clinic. Due to
the snow emergency, our offices are closed. If you need immediate medical
attention for your pet, please call the County Animal Emergency Clinic
at...."
He wrote down the number quickly, and called County. "Hello, this
is County Animal Emer-" The voice at the other end of the line was cut
off.
"Hello, this is Albert Sanders, I've got a wounded dog here, she
needs help. What?" He explained Sasha's situation to the person on the
other end of the line, then nodded, jotting down some information, and
stopped.
"You're located where? That's over an hour from here on a good
day, and that road's closed 'cause of the snow! Can't you do anything?"
He paused for a bit, then looked over at his wife, then back down at the
phone. "Thank you. Good-bye. Yes, I'm sorry, too."
Mr. Sanders sighed deeply, then looked at his wife. He started to
say something, then stopped, and sat down. Michael appeared at the door.
"C'mon, Dad, we've got to get her to the vet. C'mon, let's go! She's
really bleeding out there."
"Michael. The vet is closed because of the snow. We can't get
Sasha to the hospital." Michael started yelling, "No! No! Dad, no!"
Michael's mom gave her son a hug. "The county vet said that there's
nothing we can do, except to make her comfortable until..." He sighed
deeply.
"C'mon, Mike." His mom walked over to the fridge, and took out the
gravy. "Take this out to her, at least she'll have something she likes.
I'm sorry. I should've never told you to put her out." She looked like
she was about to cry. Michael took the treat out to his dog as his parents
hugged.
Sasha's tail thumped weakly as she lay in a pile of crimson snow,
trying to get up to go to Michael. "No, Sasha, stay. I've got something
for you, silly." He tried to smile, but failed, tears welling up in his
eyes. He poured a bit of the gravy over Sasha's lips, spilling some onto
the snow, the lamp, and himself. He set the lamp down next to his pet as
he wiped the excess gravy off on his pants. He started to cry, shuddering
to himself. Sasha licked the gravy off her muzzle, and then off the side
of the lamp weakly, her tail thumping against the wet snow.
Michael wasn't ready for what happened next. A yellow-green cloud
of smoke billowed forth, causing the boy to momentarily forget about Sasha
as he fell back, trying to avoid the cloud. The dog looked up and blinked
at the forming Genie before her.
"Oh, this is rich. Absolutely rich. Wait until the Academy hears
about this one. Kings, yes. Thieves, yes, but a dog? Oh, what else could
go wrong today. It was bad enough that I'm covered in this goo, but a
dog?" He sighed, and looked at Sasha, then noticed how hurt she was. He
looked back at Michael. "Yours? Sorry, kid. You know the rules, right?"
Michael blinked, then looked back at the house, then up and down
the street. There wasn't anyone else around, this had to be for real.
"Rules? Uh, you mean the three wishes thing?"
"Yes," the Genie said sarcastically, "'the three wishes thing,' but
more importantly, _who_ gets the three wishes."
"The one who rubs the lamp, everyone knows that." He looked at the
Genie, then back to Sasha, then back to the Genie. "You mean?"
"Yes. The dog gets the wishes. Oh man. I should've paid more
attention in Animal Communication in school. Okay. I hope I get this
right. There'll be lawsuits, lawyers...." He turned to Michael. "You know
the only thing more powerful than a Genie is a Genie with a law degree?
Okay. What's her name?"
"It's Sasha." Mike blinked back a tear as Sasha struggled to stand
up. "No, girl, stay down."
The Genie waved a hand. "It's okay. She's not going to die, at
least not for a bit." The boy blanched. "Kid, look at her. Oh... right,
sensitivity training. Okay. She's really badly hurt, and things don't
look good. All right. Sasha? Sasha. You get three wishes, do you know
what wishes are? Of course you don't. You're a dog. Okay."
The Genie shook his head a bit, and concentrated, then reformed
himself, looking like a yellow-green retriever. He began to whine and
posture a bit to Sasha, who struggled a bit, but seemed to respond.
Michael watched, trying to figure out why he could understand what Sasha
was trying to say. The Genie-dog looked over his shoulder at Michael.
"She said, 'I wish he could have seen what happened.'" The Genie-doglooked
back to Sasha, and said one word. "Done!"
The world spun a bit, and things slowly got dark, and warmer. The
snow melted away leaving Michael sitting... no, floating above his front
yard. It took him a second to figure out where he was, until he heard a
trio of kids coming towards him across the front yard. He tried to say
something, but they didn't hear him. The kids continued to walk towards
where Michael was, and then passed right through him!
It clicked suddenly. The Gallow kids, from the night before,
coming to trick or treat. Michael heard the side door open, and then heard
himself let Sasha out. He managed float to the side of the house in time
to see her lick his hand at the door, then turn to go into the backyard,
sniffing around. It was the night before. His own dad opened the door.
"Trick-or-Treat!" they said, and his dad dropped some candy into each of
their bags, saying 'Good night,' before closing the door after them.
The Gallow kids left the porch, "Man, I can't believe Michael."
Mike hated it when the kids called him that, everyone called him Mike. "He
thinks he's so much better than us, and he's got all his friends here."
Sasha padded down the driveway, warily looking over at the trio of kids on
the front steps. "Hey, I got an idea." They walked over to Sasha, who
danced gracefully away from them. "C'mon dog. C'mon, I got a treat for
you. C'mere."
Michael watched as Sasha continued to trot down the driveway, a bit
slower now, still looking at the kids. They followed her down the street
and into the woods, the oldest brother opening his candy bag. "C'mon, dog,
I got something for ya." He laughed a bit, reaching into his pocket to
take out his jackknife. "I got something really nice."
Sasha stopped, and sniffed the air, scenting the candy suddenly.
She took a preliminary step towards the woods where the kids were, then
walked a bit faster to them, tongue lolling out of her mouth. She let down
her guard as the Gallow kids surrounded her, smacking her lips to take the
candy from the eldest boy. It took just that long for him to hook the
knife across her shoulder, leaving a deep bleeding cut. Another two slices
across her flank left deep gouges in her leg. She yelped, the candy
dropping from her muzzle as her own body gave out from under her, and she
collapsed. Michael screamed at the top of his lungs as the Gallow boys ran
laughing up the street.
It got cold suddenly, and bright. Michael sat yelling and throwing
punches in the air before realizing that the scene was over. He started
screaming at the Genie. "I hate them! I hate them!" Over and over he
yelled it, sobbing. "They killed her!" The Genie stopped him. "No, they
only hurt her badly. She's still alive."
Michael stopped, and looked at Sasha, who looked back at him, and
tried to stretch out a bit. The Genie looked back at Sasha, and did more
of the dog-speak act. Sasha replied, the Genie nodded. The discussion
continued for a bit, and then the Genie looked back at Michael, smiling.
"What did she say?" asked the boy. "She says she wished you could've
stopped them. Done!"
The world spun again, but this time familiarly. Michael was back
floating in his front yard. The Gallow Boys were there, coming towards
him. He started yelling at them this time, trying to get their attention,
but once again, they passed right through him. "What? Genie! How can I
stop them? I'm _not here_!" Michael panicked, seeing himself let Sasha
out. He went over to her and tried to grab her collar, tried to distract
her to keep her from going down the driveway, but the dog didn't
acknowledge his existence.
"Genie!! Genie!! What's going on!" Michael moved down his
driveway, following his dog as she went to the Gallow boys in the woods.
"How am I supposed to stop this if I'm not here!" He didn't want to watch
his dog be sliced again, and fled deeper into the trees. He heard the
eldest boy calling for Sasha, and anger welled up deeply inside of him, a
dark coldness that chilled him to the bone.
Or not! Michael suddenly turned around. It _was_ cold, he was
cold, he was there! The realization barely took hold when an odd tingling
sensation wrapped around his body, and suddenly it was not quite as cold.
Looking down at himself, he realized that his pink skin was melting softly
into a much darker color, and fur was splitting out of his pores, covering
him. He hadn't realized he wasn't wearing any clothes before, but then
again, he hadn't exactly really been there, either. The fur continued to
wash over him as he fell to the forest floor, his hand shrinking, his
fingernails curling outwards, becoming darker than his skin, hooking into a
dog's paw!
Michael watched the rest of his body slowly work itself into a new
form. He recognized in the brightening light that he was becoming a
Shepherd like Sasha, then became aware that it wasn't brightening at all-
he could see really well at night. His bodily inspection continued as a
long flowing brush of a tail slipped from over his rear. He tentatively
wagged it, and then sniffed the air, marveling at the scents around him.
One scent in particular stood out from the others. "Sasha!!"
He didn't know how far he'd wandered into the wood, but began to
sprint up towards the street. He saw Sasha walking to the boys, almost to
them... He panicked, he was too late! He started yelling, "Sasha! Stop!
Run! Get away!" but all that came out was a series of short punctuated
barks. To his amazement, Sasha stopped, and barked in return, startled.
The Gallow kids turned to face him, wide eyed in fear at the large barking
German Shepherd bounding up towards them with teeth flashing.
"Let's get out of here!" The eldest kid dropped his knife and
fled, running from the snarling beast. Michael stopped, then looked.
Candy. Knife. Sasha. Sasha unhurt! She was okay. He went over to her
happily, but she moved back from him, sniffing at the air. She sniffed
again, then looked at him quizzically. "Mike?"
Michael stood still, looking over Sasha. He had understood her,
somehow, and more importantly, she had understood him. He tried to say,
"Yes, it's me, Sasha," but ended up lowering his head and wagging his tail.
She replied, moving towards him and licking his chin. The boy's mind
heard, "Thank you, Mike." The boy smiled in an oddly doggish way, and
barked happily.
The world started to lighten once again, and Michael blinked at the
amazingly white world before him. He stepped back, then sat back on his
haunches. "Wow, it's bright today..." He pawed at the ground, realizing
he was still a dog.
"Yes, it's wonderful, it snowed so much last night, Mike. It's
beautiful."
Mike blinked. "Sasha?" The Shepherd looked at him, and nodded.
"Yes. It's me, Mike." The Genie looked down at the pair of animals before
him, and grinned. Mike looked up at him. "I'm still a dog, Genie. What
happened."
"Three wishes, Mike, or should I say, 'Mick?'" The Genie fingered
a tag hanging from a collar around Michael's neck, and then promptly
disappeared, leaving no trace of him, or the lamp. Michael looked around
at the pristine snow as Sasha happily licked at his face and ears. "Hey,
quiddit, Sasha! Let's go inside." He stopped suddenly. "Inside! Oh no!
What about Mom and Dad?"
"Don't worry about it, we'd better get inside." Sasha padded up
the driveway to the side door, and scratched to be let in. Michael
hesitantly followed her, trying to stay out of sight. His mom opened the
slider and looked down at Sasha.
"There you are, Sasha! Staying out all night again? Where's Mick
at?" She looked towards the wood, and was about to call when she noticed
the other shepherd hiding behind the trash cans. 'There you are, c'mon
boy. You're letting the heat out." Michael was having trouble making out
all the words, but did smell food, which motivated him inside to where the
Sanders' were making breakfast on this cold, cold November first. The
woman scratched his ears pleasantly, and tossed both him and Sasha a bacon
strip as she closed the door behind her.
"Radio says the storm's got all the roads closed, guess it's just
the two of us today, dear," said the man who was munching on some eggs.
"Glad Alex sent us those two dog houses last week, eh? Would you look at
all this snow!" He smiled, and kissed his wife as Michael and Sasha lay
down by the fireplace.
Later the next week a man sat down at the local mall to his Philly
Cheesesteak sandwich. An older man stopped next to him, with a rice bowl
from the Chinese place at the food court. "How did those dog houses work
out for you, Alex?"
The businessman was still surprised that the old man knew his name,
or remembered him out of all the other customers he must have seen in the
busy week before Halloween. Why he'd decided to pick up his brother's
anniversary gift at a mall occult store he had no idea, but he was out of
time and needed something. "They liked them a lot, especially with the
snow they got up there over the weekend. My brother's happy, too. I still
think I should've picked up that lamp you showed me, though."
The old man nodded, and said, "Things have a way of working out in
the end, Alex. Enjoy your lunch." He moved on to another seat nearby,
thinking to himself that things don't always work out the way you plan
them. (
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