“Shut up, Henry,” I said.
“Oh. Right. Shut up. Zippity doo-dah. But he totally cheated. He’s got a magic bottle and he wished to beat you.”
“What?”
“Magic. Wish for a car. Poof! You got a car. Wish for a pizza. Poof. Pizza. Hey, Gaby Baby. Remember that pizza? That was awesome. I could totally go for a pizza right now. Quad—quad—quadruple pepperonizzzzz…” Henry closed his eyes and started to snore.
WHEN JOANNA AND I MADE IT HOME from the hospital, she demanded that I tell her everything. I gave in. I confessed how I’d gotten the bottle imp from Shoreby. I told her everything I’d wished for and I explained how every time a wish came true, something bad seemed to happen to someone else. I even told her that the one wish I’d made—for a new friend—was the only wish that hadn’t come true, because Lancaster had turned out to be a dud. She laughed. “Yeah, one time my mom made me take a plate of cookies over to Lancaster’s family. I argued that they could buy their own cookies, but she made me take them anyway. Guess what he said when I dropped them off.”
“That he could buy his own cookies?”
“Exactly. But seriously, you don’t really believe this bottle did all this, do you?”
“I do.”
Joanna shook her head. “It’s just coincidence. You met a guy and then a few days later, he left a car to your dad. It seems amazing, because the two things happened close together, but that’s why they call it a coincidence. Because it seems amazing.”
“Then how did I beat you at Monopoly? You said yourself you never lose.”
“Another coincidence. I happened to be unlucky on the day you were lucky. You’ll never beat me again.”
“Then why didn’t we die?”
“Die?”
“Yes! In a car accident in the Ferrari.”
“I don’t—”
“You want to know why? Because I wished we wouldn’t. I wished we would live.”
“Oh, sure. Right. You wished and we somehow magically went around that car.”
“That night you asked me why we survived. Now I’m telling you!”
“Come on, Gabe, there are close calls in cars every day. You think they’re all because of magic?”
We argued back and forth about it for a while until Joanna asked to see the bottle.
“You’ve seen it already. You’ve even held it. Remember? Right before we went for a drive, when we were sitting on the steps?”
“That bottle?”
“Of course, that bottle,” I said, handing it over to her. “You think I have more than one?”
When she held it, she said, “It is pretty creepy. I didn’t really notice that before. It has a funny feel to it. But you can’t really believe there’s some little creature in here. A—what did you call him again?”
“An imp.”
“Which is what exactly?”
“Shoreby said it was like a tiny little devil. A djinn, he called it.”
“Convenient that the top doesn’t come off. That way, you can never be proven wrong.” She shook the bottle. “Hold on, little imp! It’s an earthquake!”
“Stop it!” I said. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
Joanna laughed and tossed the bottle back to me.
I called Henry’s house that night. His mom said he was home from the hospital, but too miserable to come to the phone. I guess the painkillers finally wore off. She said I could come over the next day after school—Henry should be feeling okay by then.
The next day at lunch, I sat by myself in the cafeteria. Joanna sat by herself, too. We nodded at each other. She might have even smiled a tiny bit. But neither of us moved from our solo seats.
I saw her again in Miss Kratz’s language arts class. Joanna sat in Henry’s empty seat. When Miss Kratz turned her back, Joanna asked if I’d talked to Henry. I told her I was going to see him after school. She asked if she could come along.
“Your mom making you?”
“She probably will, so I might as well just go.”
Miss Kratz turned around. “You two have something you want to share with the whole class? No? Then can you do like I do and at least pretend you want to be here?”
We walked to Henry’s house after school. Joanna didn’t mention the bottle once. Neither did I.
Henry was home alone and lying on the couch in the living room, with his arm wrapped in a hard cast. His other hand was wrapped around a bowl of potato chips. He smiled at me, then saw Joanna. “Oh, hey,” he said. “My mom didn’t tell me you were both coming.”
Joanna blushed.
Henry said, “I mean, it’s totally fine.”
“How’s the arm?” said Joanna.
“It’s not too bad, today. They put a real cast on it this morning. You guys want to sign it?”
I took a Sharpie from the coffee table and wrote GABE in fat black letters. Joanna wrote Know your own bone.
“What’s that mean?” asked Gabe.
“I don’t know. It’s something Hashimoto once said to me. I think it sounds cool.”
“Who’s Hashimoto?” said Henry.
“An artist. Works in our building. Either crazy or a genius. Probably a genius.” Beneath the quote, Joanna signed her name in a tiny script—so small it was nearly impossible to read. She said, “Speaking of crazy, you were saying some pretty kooky stuff yesterday.”
Henry laughed. “That’s what I’ve heard. Mom said I kept telling her I loved everybody and kept asking what was for dinner. What kind of goofy stuff did I say to you guys?”
“You told Joanna you thought she was cute,” I said.
Henry gulped. “I did what?”
“You said she had nice lips.”
“Oh, man.” Henry’s face turned pale. “I’m really sorry.”
“Then you told her about the bottle imp.”
Henry looked back and forth between Joanna and me.
“Don’t worry,” said Joanna. “I don’t believe it. Bunch of nonsense. You don’t believe it, do you?”
“ ’Course I do,” said Henry. “You would, too, if you’d been there when we—when Gabe wished for lunch. We were specific. We asked for a double-pepperoni pizza—”
“Triple,” I said.
“Right. A triple-pepperoni pizza and a Mike’s Deluxe and that is exactly what we got. I mean, we got it right out front. Within like thirty seconds. Exactly what we ordered.”
“It still has to be a coincidence. That kind of stuff just doesn’t happen.”
“Well, it happened,” said Henry. “And this cast even happened because of it.”
“Why? Gabe wished you’d break your arm?”
“No. Gabe wished to win a race against me. I was winning until I got hit by a car.”
“You think this bottle is why you got hit?”
“It is why,” I said.
Joanna said, “I’ve been thinking about how convenient it is for a bottle that supposedly holds an imp in it to have a stopper you can’t open. So you can’t look inside it.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“I know what I said. But it gave me an idea. We can prove if it’s real or not right now. Here, let me show you. Give me the bottle.”
“What are you gonna do with it?”
“Just give it to me. It’s supposed to be indestructible anyway, so what do you care?”
I pulled the bottle from my pocket. Joanna grabbed it and held it between her hands, her thumbs on each side of the bottle’s neck. “Now, wish.”
“Wish what?”
Joanna swallowed. “Wish to see it.”
A chill wind seemed to blow through Henry’s living room. Goose bumps broke out on my arms. “Wish to see what?”
“Wish to see the imp. The little devil. Whatever it is. If this thing really answers your wishes, then it will have to show itself, righ
t? Then we’ll know. If it happens, it’s real. If nothing happens, then I’m right and this whole thing is a bunch of coincidences.”
“There’s no way I’m wishing that,” I said.
“Don’t do it,” said Henry. “I don’t want to see it. It might make us go blind or something.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do it.”
“Do it,” said Joanna.
I blew out my breath. “This is not a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea,” said Joanna, “because you know and I know that the imp is not real. So nothing will happen. That’s what you’re really afraid of.”
“No, that is definitely not what I’m afraid of.”
“I think it is. You’re afraid that you made this whole thing up in your mind.”
“Joanna—”
“You’re afraid to find out that there’s no imp. That there’s no magic.”
“Will you just stop talking?”
“You’re afraid that your soul is not actually in danger. You’re afraid to find out that your life is just ordinary.” She frowned. “Just like everyone else.”
“You are so annoying,” I said. I reached out my hand and touched the bottle.
“You have to touch it?” said Joanna.
“I don’t know if you have to, but I have every time. It feels like what I should do. Now shut up.” I cleared my throat. “I wish for—” I stopped.
“What are you doing?” said Joanna. “Keep going.”
“Look,” I said. “If it is real….If the old man was telling the truth and this thing really came from the Devil—”
“It’s not real. Just finish the wish.”
I nodded. I closed my eyes. “I wish—I wish for the imp inside the bottle to show itself. Now.”
It was broad daylight when I spoke, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, the light from the window darkened. The electric bulbs flickered and turned off, leaving us in a room of shadows. Joanna sucked in her breath. Her hands shook as she held the bottle. Henry sat forward, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.
The little bottle began to vibrate. It hummed. I heard a snap, as if a seal had broken. In the dim light, I could see the stopper in the top of the bottle begin to move, just barely. The movement was so slight, I wasn’t sure if it had moved at all.
“Did you see that?” I said.
No one answered.
The stopper moved again. This time we all saw it. It began to turn, once around, then again, then once again.
“Holy moly,” said Henry.
The stopper quit turning. The vibrating ceased, too. Nothing happened for half a minute. I let out my breath.
“What just happened?” said Joanna.
“There. You see?” I said. “You believe it now?”
“I—I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. But, I mean, I don’t know. We still didn’t see anything.” “Look!” said Henry.
The stopper rose slowly. It cleared the top of the bottle and kept rising, held up by two tiny claws. A tiny head rose up next, with pointy ears, bulging eyes, and a sharp snout. The head twitched about, looking first at Henry, then at me, and then its gaze landed on Joanna. The creature looked down at Joanna’s thumbs, holding the bottle. It hissed.
The imp jerked out, raising its gray, sinewy body halfway above the rim. It opened its mouth wide, showing rows of needle-sharp teeth. With a lurch, it clamped its teeth on the flesh of Joanna’s thumb and bit down hard. Joanna let out a scream. The bottle fell to the floor.
Joanna grasped her injured thumb. Blood oozed from her wound and dripped onto Henry’s coffee table.
“I believe it,” said Joanna, between moans. “I do I do I do.”
The bottle lay on the carpet, resting against the bottom of the couch. It was still. I nudged it with the toe of my shoe. Nothing happened. I bent down and picked it up, then quickly set it on the table and backed away.
The stopper was back in place. The bottle looked as if it had never been opened.
I WAS DONE WITH IT. I swore out loud, then and there, that I would never make a wish of the bottle imp again.
Dear Reader, it wasn’t a lie. I never wished from it after that day.
When the words came out of my mouth, Henry nodded. Joanna stared at me wide-eyed, sucking on her injured thumb.
I carried the bottle back home from Henry’s house in a plastic grocery bag. I couldn’t bear to put that creature back into my pocket. Knowing that the imp had been there, so close to my skin, all that time, made me shiver. I could still see those bulging eyes and sharp teeth.
Joanna walked back with me, but didn’t say a word. Her thumb was wrapped in a huge white bandage. When we reached the Bright House, I saw Mrs. Appleyard across the street, standing in the doorway of Hank’s Bar. She was smoking a cigarette and blowing the smoke up into the afternoon. “Hey, lovebirds. Whatcha got in the bag? You two go grocery shopping together? Like an old married couple?” She cackled. “Hey, have I ever told you about the time Mr. Appleyard did the grocery shopping?”
“Nope,” I shouted, and then dragged Joanna inside the Bright House. We stopped outside of my apartment. “Are you really going to get rid of it?” said Joanna.
“You don’t think I should keep it after that, do you?”
Joanna said nothing.
I nodded toward the door across the hallway. “I’m sure I could sell it to Lancaster. I bet you he’d buy it in a second.”
“You could sell it to me,” said Joanna.
“An hour ago, you didn’t even think it was real.”
Joanna glared at me, then held out her bandaged thumb.
I shook my head. “I don’t want any friend of mine—”
“Is that what I am?”
“What?”
“A friend of yours?”
I shrugged. “Aren’t you?”
“I guess I am. But maybe it wasn’t my choice. Maybe I’m the answer to your wish—you know, for a new friend.”
“Maybe you are.”
“If you got a friend, who do you think lost one?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but if we’re really friends, then I’m not gonna sell you the bottle. I don’t want anything to do with it anymore. You don’t know what it feels like to own it. It weighs you down.”
“What if I need it more than anyone else?”
“For what?”
“You know for what. You know how much I need—something.”
“Joanna, it wouldn’t end well. When one person wins…”
“Just shut up then. I get it.” I didn’t see any tears, but Joanna wiped her face with the back of her hand. She nodded toward Lancaster’s door. “So if you sell it to Lancaster, what do you think he’ll do with it?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” I said. “I just want to be done with it. I don’t want it to be my responsibility anymore.”
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” said Joanna. “You’re the one selling it. You’re the one who chooses whom you sell it to. So you’re still kind of responsible, aren’t you?”
“You don’t think I should sell it to Lancaster? You think I should keep it?”
“I didn’t say that. But, I mean, if Lancaster does bad stuff with it, aren’t you partly to blame?”
“That’s like saying if I sell a guy a chair and he bashes someone over the head with it, it’s my fault a guy got bashed over the head.”
“A chair doesn’t cause car wrecks. A chair doesn’t have a little devil inside it.”
I stared at Joanna. “Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted me to get rid of it.”
“I do. I guess.”
“I can’t just hold on to it. I don’t think I could resist using it again. And besides, what if—what if I died when I had it? I don’t want the Devil to get my soul.”
“I don’t want that
, either. You’re right. You should sell it. Sell it to whoever you can.” Joanna left me standing between the two doors.
I sold it.
I coaxed Lancaster away from his Xbox and walked him outside. When I told him the story and the rules of the bottle, he acted just like you’d expect. He rolled his eyes, smirked, and asked when he could go back in. I kept talking, telling him about the car, the pizza, and the race. I didn’t tell him about the imp biting Joanna’s thumb. Maybe I should have.
“So get to the point, Silver. How much you want for this wondrous thing?”
“Like I said, I have to sell it for less than I bought it. So, ninety-nine cents.”
“Why so cheap? What’s the catch?”
“I already told you the catch. Your eternal soul. And, you know, bad stuff seems to happen. Not to you. To other people.”
“Yeah yeah yeah. But what’s the real catch? What do you get? I mean, I know you’re poor, but ninety-nine cents ain’t enough to help anyone. Even bums ask for a dollar.”
“I get out.”
“See! Then there is a catch. What do you get out from?”
“I get out of hurting anyone else.”
“You sure are hung up on that.” He dug around in his pocket. “I still get the feeling you’re tricking me. That you’re gonna get me some other way.”
“I’m not.”
Lancaster pulled out a dollar bill. “Here. You can keep the change.”
“I can’t. It’s got to be ninety-nine cents. Not a cent more.” I gave him one penny back, then reminded him that when he sold it, it had to be for less than that. Then I said the words: “Lancaster Brackley, from Tacoma, Washington, I take your ninety-nine cents in exchange for the bottle and the imp.”
Lancaster grabbed the bottle from me. “I know this is a scam. I just haven’t figured out how yet.” He went inside and shut the door. I felt lighter. I felt safer. I breathed deep.
The Brackleys moved out of the Bright House three days later.
Lancaster’s first wish was for his dad to buy a winning lottery ticket. Mr. Brackley got one worth $7.5 million dollars. I know this because Lancaster gave me a ten-dollar bill to thank me for selling him the bottle. I wondered what had happened to someone else so that the Brackleys could win that ticket. I never found out.
The Bottle Imp of Bright House Page 9
