The Wishbreaker

by Tyler Whitesides

  Chapter 18

  I unfolded right next to Ms. Gomez, who jumped sideways with a startled “Moooo!”

  Ms. Gomez, Jathon, Vale, and Thackary were all standing in a circle on the grass outside the archway entrance to the miniature golf course. A sign hung at the top, displaying the name of the place.

  Wish-Come-True Mini Golf Park.

  “Seriously?” Jathon said to me. “Ms. Gomez was just about to say something important!”

  “Good to see you, too,” I said.

  “Finish your pointless quest?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I lied. I didn’t feel like explaining my shattered hopes. What mattered was that I was here now. “Ridge, get out of the jar.”

  “It’s like my entire body is a mosquito bite!” he cried, scratching unceremoniously.

  “This is the place from Tina’s note?” I unzipped my backpack and pushed aside the sandwich supplies to make room for Arabian Nights. I wanted to throw that bread bag to the curb, remembering all the optimism I’d felt about my past when I made that sandwich. I silently vowed that I would never eat peanut butter again.

  To me it was all peanut bitter.

  “Of course this be the right place,” said Thackary. “Chasm be hiding somewhere in the golf course.”

  “The name certainly fits for a genie’s hideout,” I said. “That’s a crazy coincidence.”

  “We think this is more than a simple hideout,” said Vale. “We think Chasm built this place, probably using Tina’s wishes.” She handed me a promotional pamphlet. “These were all over town. Chasm’s got some pretty good advertising.”

  I studied the bright ad for Wish-Come-True Mini Golf Park. Apparently, the grand opening was almost two weeks ago, before I even opened Ridge’s jar.

  “Take a look at the prizes.” Vale gestured for me to turn the pamphlet’s page.

  “‘Golfing has never been so rewarding,’” I read. “‘Complete the course for a chance to have your greatest wish come true! A new car, a three-week paid vacation, a house remodel, anything you can think of . . .’” I looked up. “Why would Chasm be advertising this kind of stuff?”

  “Umm . . . guys?” Ridge said. “What do you make of this?” He was standing a short distance away, looking at an electrical pole that ran alongside the parking lot. Stapled to the wooden pole were several papers, fluttering gently in the afternoon breeze.

  The rest of us walked over to check it out. I’d seen posters like these before, notifying about a lost pet or stolen bicycle. But these were different.

  These signs were for lost people. And there were nearly a dozen adults pictured here!

  “What happened to all of them?” Ridge asked.

  Ms. Gomez stepped forward, mooing softly as she gestured from one poster to the next, drawing our attention to the dates when each person had gone missing.

  “They’ve all disappeared in the last two weeks,” said Vale.

  “There’s something else these posters have in common.” Jathon pointed to the text under each picture. “Last seen: Wish-Come-True Mini Golf Park.”

  “Chasm is taking prisoners,” I muttered. “He told me he was making preparations. That he’d wished to know our plans even before we did.”

  “Why haven’t the police shut this place down?” Ridge asked.

  “If the park has any kind of magical components created with a wish,” said Vale, “then the Universe will shield it from suspicion. The truth may be obvious to us, but even the best detectives would have a hard time seeing this as anything other than a meaningless coincidence.”

  “People should at least stop golfing here.” As I said it, a young couple exited the course. I couldn’t see their faces, but I heard them talking about how disappointed they were to mess up on the last hole.

  “People be suckers fer free stuff,” said Thackary.

  “What is Chasm up to?” I said.

  “I’m sure it be nothing serious,” Thackary replied. “Perhaps he be lonely, looking fer company other than wee Tina.”

  That was the most ridiculous thing I’d heard today. Chasm was definitely up to something foul. Thackary was probably just trying to downplay it with hopes that we’d walk into a trap. Then the pirate man would be able to do whatever devious trick I was sure he was planning.

  I turned to Jathon. “How much time do you and Vale have left together?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Just under two hours.”

  “That doesn’t leave us very much time to complete your quest,” I said. “We’d better get in there.”

  “Looks like we get our golf balls and clubs over there.” Vale pointed to a shack beside the arched entrance.

  “We’re not here to golf,” I reminded her.

  “Let’s just see what that employee has to say,” Jathon answered. “Maybe he can lead us to Chasm.”

  I danced my way across the sidewalk until we were all huddled in the shade of the shack’s canopy. Jathon rang a little bell on the counter. It seemed unnecessary, since the building was only one small room and the employee was standing right there.

  He was a pimply teen with shaggy hair and a bit of wispy stubble that he shouldn’t have been allowed to grow. His collared shirt was fire-engine red, a logo sewn onto the front showing a genie coming out of a golf ball. The pinned-on name tag said Shane.

  “Welcome to Wish-Come-True Mini Golf Park,” Shane said, his tone flat.

  “We’d like to speak to the owner, please,” said Jathon.

  “Mr. Kaz only sees people who complete the course.”

  “I think he’ll make an exception,” I said. “He knows us.”

  “Mr. Kaz doesn’t make exceptions to the rules.”

  “Well, that’s ironic, coming from the Wishbreaker,” muttered Ridge.

  “If you’d like to play a round,” Shane said, “it’ll be ten dollars each.”

  I looked at Jathon and saw that he had come to the same conclusion I had. We could stand here and try to persuade this brainwashed teenager, or we could just beat Chasm’s stupid golf game and earn ourselves a face-to-face.

  “We’ll play,” Jathon said.

  “Okay,” Shane answered. “So, just the two of you?”

  To my surprise, he was pointing over my shoulder to Ms. Gomez and Thackary Anderthon.

  “What? No!” I said. “We’re all going to play.”

  “Sorry,” he replied. “Only people eighteen and older are eligible to win prizes.”

  “We don’t care about the prizes,” said Vale. “We just want to golf.”

  “Mr. Kaz doesn’t allow minors on his course,” Shane said.

  I remembered the posters stapled to that pole. All the missing people were adults, which matched Chasm’s exclusive rules.

  “What kind of mini golf course doesn’t allow kids?” Ridge asked.

  “The kind that was created by an evil genie,” I answered. “Chasm doesn’t want to take the chance that a Wishmaker might play. Especially us.”

  “Not like Shane’s going to stop us,” whispered Jathon.

  True. The gangly teen hardly looked like a threat.

  “Has anyone beaten the game yet?” Vale asked.

  “Eleven people, so far,” said Shane. He gestured to a whiteboard on the shack’s back wall where a list of names was written.

  It just so happened that there were eleven missing-persons signs on that post outside. . . . “What did they win?” I asked.

  “Nothing yet,” said Shane. “Mr. Kaz is waiting until he has a winner for every prize.”

  “How many does he need?” asked Vale.

  “Just one more,” Shane said. “And there’s a guy on Hole Seven right now who shows some real promise.”

  I looked at Ms. Gomez and Thackary. “You two have to get in there and stop whoever might be about to win.”

  “Sounds like you’re planning to play dirty,” said Shane. “I should warn you that Mr. Kaz doesn’t tolerate cheating of any kind.”

  “He’s the che
ater,” said Ridge.

  “Mr. Kaz?” Shane sounded shocked. “He’s the most generous person I’ve ever met. All he wants to do is make people’s greatest wishes come true.”

  Yeah, right. We’d all been down that road on our last quest, lured in by Chasm’s promise of giving us the thing we wanted most. What was that evil genie planning this time?

  “Mooo!” Ms. Gomez handed Shane twenty dollars.

  “Excuse me?” said the employee.

  “That, there, be payment for the two of us,” Thackary explained, stepping close to Ms. Gomez. As much as I hated being left behind, Ms. Gomez and Thackary might have been able to get in there and learn more information about Chasm’s golf course.

  Shane took the money. He turned to the wall of the shack and rummaged through a rack of clubs. Selecting two, he returned, slipping them over the counter to Thackary and Ms. Gomez.

  “What be the score to beat?” Thackary asked.

  “You don’t have to keep score unless you want to,” said Shane. “To meet with Mr. Kaz and earn a free prize, you just have to complete all nine holes.”

  “They can hit it as many times as they want?” Jathon asked.

  “Sure,” Shane replied. “The only rule is that they have to wait until the ball stops rolling before they hit it again.”

  “That shouldn’t be too difficult,” I said.

  “The course is harder than it seems,” said Shane. “If you hit the ball into the wrong place, you won’t get it back.”

  “Moooo!” Ms. Gomez held out her hand, beckoning for Shane to give her something.

  In response, he reached under the shack’s service counter and came up with two golf balls, one white and the other black.

  “I’m going to give both of you a special ball.” Shane handed the black one to Ms. Gomez and the white one to Thackary Anderthon.

  “These have been specifically designed for the Wish-Come-True course. Once you place your golf ball on the green of Hole One,” said Shane, “you are not allowed to touch it with anything but the club for the rest of the game.”

  “What if they hit it out-of-bounds?” I asked. I’d played mini golf before, and my swings weren’t always in control.

  “Depends on the hole,” answered Shane. “They might be able to hit it back in with their club. Or an out-of-bounds hit might end the game for you.”

  “If they can’t touch the golf balls,” said Jathon, “how are they supposed to move them from one hole to the next?”

  “The holes are connected,” Shane explained. “Hit it into one, and the ball will be deposited at the top of the next course.”

  This was all good information to help us beat the game and find Chasm, but none of it mattered unless we got to play, too.

  Thackary and Ms. Gomez moved out from under the shaded canopy. We followed them to the archway entrance, not sure what else to do. The two adults stopped to face us before entering the course. Tina’s mom offered a few moos of advice, but that wasn’t very helpful.

  “Arrr!” said Thackary. “I always knew it would come down to this.”

  “A mini golf course?” Ridge said.

  He shook his greasy head. “Knew it would come down to me leaving ye sorry landlubbers behind.”

  “Just get in there and stop the other people from completing the course, Dad,” said Jathon.

  “But don’t putt it into the ninth hole,” I said, fearful of what might happen if Thackary won the game before we figured out how to join them. “It would be pointless to face Chasm alone.”

  “Pointless fer who?” Thackary asked.

  “On second thought,” I said, “maybe Thackary shouldn’t be allowed to golf.”

  Before I could stop him, he turned and raced under the archway. Not wanting to be left behind, Ms. Gomez jogged after him, golf club gripped firmly in one hand.

  “Shouldn’t we go after them?” Ridge asked.

  “Won’t do us much good without golf balls and clubs of our own,” said Vale. “If Chasm built this place, you can bet there will be magical barriers to prevent us from reaching his hideout unless we beat his game.”

  “We could wish for our own clubs and balls,” Jathon suggested.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “That employee mentioned that the golf balls were designed specifically for this course. A regular one might not work with whatever Chasm has created.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Jathon asked.

  “Well, only adults are allowed to play, right?” I said. The others stared at me blankly, clearly not seeing my plan. “We just have to wish to grow up.”

  “I don’t really want to be an adult yet,” Jathon said. “Too much responsibility.”

  “Can’t be more than being a Wishmaker,” I said. “Besides, it would just be for a short time. Once we get onto the course with our clubs and balls, we can turn back into kids.”

  “It’s actually a solid plan,” Vale backed me up.

  “Great,” I said. “But I’m only wishing for Ridge and me.” Jathon could take care of himself and Vale. I hoped the consequence would be less severe for me if I only changed two people.

  “How long?” Jathon asked.

  I shrugged. “Fifteen minutes ought to get us onto the course and out of Shane’s sight.”

  Jathon said something to Vale, but I didn’t listen. I had my own wishing to do.

  “All right, Ridge,” I began, the two of us stepping away from them. “I wish that you and I would turn into adults for the next fifteen minutes.”

  “I hope I have a cool beard,” mused Ridge. “If you want us to turn into adults, your mouth will be full of feathers for the next fifteen minutes.”

  “Ick!” I said, just imagining it. “How many?”

  “Lots.”

  “Can I spit them out?”

  “Yeah, but there will just be more.”

  Well, it was only for a little while. It would be worth it to get us onto the golf course. “Bazang.”

  My mouth was suddenly full of small downy feathers. And things looked a little different. For starters, I was much taller. Wider, too. I glanced down at myself. What was I wearing? What was all this padding?

  “Ace!” Ridge cried. “You’re a woman!”

  I gasped, nearly choking on my feathers. I looked at Ridge. But the person in front of me definitely didn’t look like the genie I knew. He was now older, with a long white beard and a turban.

  “What happened?” I asked, sputtering on feathers. My voice was a woman’s voice!

  “What happened?” echoed another voice.

  Ridge and I turned to see two other adults standing a few feet away. Both looked like they were in their late twenties. The woman had Vale’s unmistakable red hair and freckles. And the man seemed strangely familiar.

  “You look a lot like your dad,” I said.

  “Ugh, don’t say that.” Jathon’s usual blond hair had darkened with age.

  “Let me guess,” said Vale. “Ace wished for you to turn into adults.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “Not sure what went wrong.”

  “Nothing went wrong,” Vale said. “You did turn into adults.”

  “But we don’t look like ourselves!” cried Ridge. “Even though this beard is pretty awesome.”

  “That’s because you didn’t wish to turn into adult versions of yourselves,” said Jathon, shaking his head.

  “At least my consequence doesn’t last too long,” I said, wiping slobbery feathers from my round chin. “What was yours?”

  “For the next fifteen minutes, I can only walk backward,” he said.

  “Hope you don’t trip,” Ridge said.

  “Come on.” Jathon set off, looking over his shoulder as he walked backward toward the golf shack. I stepped onto the sidewalk, my new body busting a dance move along the way.

  The four of us stepped under the canopy shade. We didn’t ring the bell this time. Shane was leaning over the counter with a bored expression.

  “Welcome to Wis
h-Come-True Mini Golf Park,” the teenager said.

  “We’d like to play,” said Jathon, turning around to face Shane.

  “That’ll be forty dollars.”

  Money! I had forgotten about that little detail. We’d probably have to wish for it. . . . Ridge reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. Opening the leather fold, he pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.

  “This just keeps getting better,” Ridge said, passing it to Shane. “Keep the change.”

  “Where did you get that?” I asked, a downy feather fluttering from my mouth.

  “It was in my pocket,” he replied. “I guess part of being a grown-up is having a wallet.”

  “Yeah, but I thought they were usually empty,” said Jathon.

  Shane gathered four clubs from a rack on the wall, but when he passed them out, Ridge didn’t look very happy.

  “Could I trade my club for a different one?” he asked.

  “Is there something wrong with it?” Shane said.

  “Well, no,” he answered. “But that one looks really cool.” I glanced to where Ridge was pointing. Leaning against the counter was a club with the handle wrapped in red leather.

  “Sorry. No exchanges.”

  The teenager turned to retrieve the golf balls from the corner of the shack. The moment Shane wasn’t looking, Ridge leaned over the counter, swiping the red club and replacing it with his own.

  “You sneaky old man!” I hissed at him.

  “Red is my lucky color,” he replied, hiding it behind his back as Shane turned again. He handed each of us a golf ball. Jathon got orange, and Vale got blue. I got a boring brown ball, and, coincidentally, Ridge got red.

  “You only have to keep score if you want,” Shane said. “Just make sure the ball comes to a complete stop before you hit it again. . . .”

  “We know the rules,” I said. “Thanks.”

  The four of us quickly veered away from the shack, Jathon walking backward and me doing a little shimmy as we passed under the archway and onto the course.

  Now off the sidewalk, I stopped dancing and surveyed the area. Fake green turf clearly marked each part of the course, with little gravel walkways leading from hole to hole. Classic rock music played through mounted speakers. It was nicely landscaped, with big trees and bushes designed to keep the late-afternoon sun off the golfers.