Best Wishes

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright 2011 Plot Roach.

Best Wishes

By Plot Roach

When the old man in apartment number three moved out, Max knew she would find neat things. He had been an anthropologist in his youth and taught at a local university until age had forced him to retire and his kids insisted on putting him in an adult care community. Max had heard his son and daughter fight over the few items they thought were of worth and then plan on dumping the rest the following week in the dumpster behind the apartment complex. Max circled the dumpster on days when it was empty and plunged in when it was full of promise and refuse.

She had been a dumpster diver for most of her life. As a kid she had found that free toys, scratched and abused could be found if one was not picky about the chipped paint job or a few missing pieces. As a teen, she pursued her artistic side by frequenting the garbage bins behind arts and crafts stores as well as checking the recycle bins behind local educational institutions at the end of the school year. Her adult life, and frequent trips to the local colleges at the end of every semester, had gotten her nearly new furniture, slightly scratched electronics and interesting textbooks, knickknacks and clothing she often sold for quite a profit in online auctions. She hoped that the elderly professor’s possessions would garner a few month’s worth of rent and perhaps a keepsake or two.

The day came when the two adult children of the old man tossed his life’s possessions into the dumpster and Max waited with baited breath, durable garbage bags and an industrial strength back brace for them to leave. When the last piece was relegated to the dump and the dust settled, Max threw herself into her work -almost literally, as she scaled the side of the dumpster wall like a rat after a particularly ripe piece of cheese.

She sifted through used coffee grounds and egg shells in order to recover hardbound books she knew would fetch a pretty price on the internet -should she be able to get them cleaned up from their stay in the trash. She found the old man’s clothes, mostly professional attire. She bagged it up and threw it over the edge of the dumpster. After a good wash she might be able to unload it at a local thrift store that specialized in vintage wear. Then came the knickknacks, wall hangings and paperweights that every professor keeps in his office: photos of famous authors, signed and dated. Hand-blown glass ornaments that resembled flowers, towns and animals -all encased in clear glass globes, their bottoms flattened to keep them upright. Sculptures from the indigenous peoples that he studied in his travels.

While bagging these, she came across an old brass lamp, she smiled, thinking of the tale of Aladdin and the Genie and put it with the other items she would lug back into her apartment. Once she had satisfied her curiosity of the contents of the dumpster, she took her bags back to the apartment, dumping them into the bathtub so that she could sort through them properly and dust off any garbage that had hitched a ride so that it would not stink up her apartment.

First out of the bag came the glass items, since they were easiest to clean. Once sprayed with window cleaner and toweled dry, she set them aside in a box she lined with shredded newspaper and put them to the side until she could get good pictures of them to put them up online. Then came the books, which had fared well, given the dampness of the dumpster and its slimy contents. Finally came the sculptures, including the lamp. She rubbed its dingy side with a damp rag, thinking of the magic it would have contained had it been in the hands of an imaginary heroine. But nothing happened. No smoke. No voice from on high to announce her status as mistress of possibilities. She sighed, set it to the side, and retrieved some of the other, now clean, objects to put on her desk until she could look them up on the internet and evaluate their worth.

When she came back, there was a man standing in her bathtub. Upon closer inspection he was not standing, but hovering, as the lower half of his body was composed of blue smoke. He wore gold earrings, a bejeweled turban and nothing else but a serious look upon his face.

“It took you long enough.” was all she could say to him, while waiting for the situation to make sense in her brain.

“My deepest apologies, Mistress. For it has been many a century since my last master summoned me.”

“Well that’s okay, then. I can hardly expect you to ‘jump to’ when you’ve been asleep so long.”

“You are very understanding for a mortal.”

“And you are very naked for a visitor.”

He smiled, taking the hint and waved an arm over his body, summoning a type of tunic to cover him from neck to waist, the bottom edge flapping in the breeze caused by his vaporous lower half. “Better, mistress?”

“Much, thank you.” She looked at the lamp, still half dingy from age. Out of habit she retrieved it from the edge of the bathtub and cleaned it the rest of the way until the brass gleamed in the florescent lights.

“There’s really only one of me that was trapped in that, Mistress. No more will come out no matter how many times you rub it.”

“I know, I just hate to do anything halfway, you know?”

“So what will be your first wish, Mistress? I assume you know how this works, since you rubbed the lamp and all.”

“I think I have the idea: I get three wishes, no wishing for extra wishes, there are some things beyond your power, etc?”

“My limitations include things like producing ’all the money in the world’ -since doing so would bankrupt the entire planet until they produced another form of currency and the old money would be rendered unusable. Eternal life is rarely a good idea, as physical appearance and health do not automatically come with it. And as for love, well… Forcing your intentions upon someone else to take away their free will often ends in negative karma the likes of which even I can’t get you out of.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Under the terms of our current relationship, I cannot lie to you.”

“And are you a good … being?”

“In what matter, Mistress? Since I am merely a tool used to aid in the endeavors of others.”

“If left to your own devices, would you be a force for good or evil?”

“I like helping others, if that is what you mean. But I have been forced to cause harm to innocents, though I never enjoyed it.”

“Good enough.” Max said, pushing the stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail away of her eyes. “I wish for your freedom.”

“Even if you are serious, Mistress, as I hope that you are. You still have two more wishes -would you not like to use them first?”

“I don’t need to. I make a living, maybe not a great one -but it’s good enough for me. Riches would just make me snooty. As for the eternal life thing, you said that it wouldn’t keep me healthy. And to be honest, I don’t think that I would want to outlive all my friends and family. I don’t want to conquer foreign nations or kill my enemies. All I want is a friend. So when you are free, if you want to hang out for a while, that’s fine with me.“

The genie, struck by her honest words, performed the only wish she had asked of him. This completed, the lamp which held him for so long crumbled into golden dust and he materialized in his entirety.

“I may want you to wear clothes when you visit, though.” Max added, upon seeing his transformation. The genie again waved a hand, this time clothing himself in something befitting a male of modern day: jeans, tennis shoes and a t shirt. “Better” she said. “Now what?”

If you don’t mind, I think I’ll hang out for a while.” he said, eyeing the objects she had set aside to sell. When she was not looking he waved a hand over them, restoring them to perfect condition, which would thereby bring her more money. Another wave of his hand fixed the minor problems in her apartment like stains on the rug and a dripping faucet. He also made sure that her cupboards were full of her favorite foods and that her refrigerator never ran out of beer. He might not be her servant, but he made up his mind to be a good house guest and friend.