A Bottle Full of Djinn

by Paula Lester

  “Yes,” he rumbled, and the other three people in the room all jumped. Georgio had been so quiet they were startled to hear him speak.

  “I don’t suppose you remember what your container is?” Steve asked, a hopeful look crossing his handsome face.

  Georgio’s giant head shook back and forth. “I wouldn’t tell you if I did,” he admitted, and the cadence of his speech was slow and deliberate. “I don’t remember much, but I know it’s nice being out for so long.”

  A flash of empathy shot through Zoey. She didn’t know what it was like to be a djinni in a bottle, but she could imagine it wasn’t a whole heap of fun. Even if magic somehow made the space seem huge, and you could ramble around in there and do whatever you wanted, it must get lonely. But she pushed the thought away. Once they had Georgio contained, they could call the Djinn-hunters and have him taken to the special community just for his people. By all accounts, it was wonderful there, and he would be well taken care of and not alone.

  “Okay. I don’t feel great about searching Shawna’s room, but her kids did tell me to do whatever was necessary to keep her here, so I guess it’s what we have to do.”

  Steve touched her arm. “We also need to do it to keep everyone else safe.” Glancing at Georgio, Steve dipped his head. “No offense. I’m sure you don’t mean to hurt people or make them disappear. Or, you know, set off cake bombs in the kitchen. But those have all been side effects of your being here.”

  At the mention of the cake fiasco, Georgio’s molten amber eyes glowed more fiercely. He had a quizzical look on his face. “Cake bomb? I don’t remember that, but it sounds hilarious.”

  Zoey shook her head at the glimpse of the djinni’s personality. “Let’s gather whatever might be a djinni bottle and put it on the bed.”

  Everyone began hunting for things and placing likely suspects on the center of Shawna’s bed, which sported a comforter with dark green stars on a lighter green background. Georgio was the only one who didn’t help. In fact, Zoey could have sworn he tried to hinder their progress without being overt about it. He simply used his huge body to slow things down by almost magically being in everyone’s way at once as they rustled through the closet, dresser drawers, and Shawna’s big cherrywood hope chest.

  Zoey got on her stomach to peer under the bed. Only a few dust bunnies swirled around there, but light from the window bounced off something between the mattress and box spring, catching her attention as she rose to her feet. She glanced at Georgio, but he was busy shifting his feet to stay in front of Steve, who appeared to be trying to get into Shawna’s bathroom. Quickly, she reached over and grabbed the glinting object, yanking it out. It was an opaque green glass gin bottle. Was Shawna a closet drinker? Twisting off the top, Zoey closed one eye so she could peer into the bottle with the other. It was empty. In fact, as she screwed the cap back on, she realized it looked pretty old.

  “Guys,” she said slowly. “Something tells me I may have found what we’re looking for.” She held the green bottle up so everyone could see it.

  “Hot dog,” Steve said. “I think you’re right.”

  “Let’s test it,” Hope said, crossing the room to take the bottle from Zoey. She set it on the bed and got a pinch of the herbal concoction between her thumb and forefinger. She sprinkled it on the gin bottle. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room into everyone’s lungs as they all held their breath.

  At first, nothing happened. Zoey shot Steve a disappointed look, but his eyes were still on the bottle. She fixed her attention back onto it too and caught the first glimpse of a neon green, slimy-looking swirl of goo begin to move on the bottle’s surface. It coiled around, imitating a tiny snake, for three or four minutes before it winked out of sight.

  Shawna’s voice rang out from the doorway, breaking the silence. “Huh. An actual gin bottle. That’s ironic.”

  Chapter 18

  Shawna spun on her heel and took off at a fast clip down the hallway. Zoey exchanged glances with Steve and Hope before hurrying after her. “Shawna!” she cried. “Let’s have a talk.”

  Over her shoulder, the elderly woman snapped, “Did I see my kids leaving here this morning?” Guilt and irritation swept over Zoey. Anton and Cora obviously hadn’t stopped to visit their mom before leaving the retirement center. She didn’t answer, and Shawna nodded once. “I thought so.” Her tone was sad, and it tore at Zoey’s heart.

  Shawna darted out the front door, speeding up, and Zoey followed. The woman went straight for the driveway.

  Jogging to catch up, Zoey said, “Can you please stay here and talk to me?”

  But Shawna lifted a hand and recited a fast spell, and a wave of fog suddenly spread between them. It was cloying and smelled like charred meat, and Zoey coughed and tried to wave it away. By the time it died down enough for her to see through, Shawna was gone. Zoey growled in frustration.

  “She went straight down the driveway,” Steve called from the porch.

  “I’m going after her. You and Hope see if you can get Georgio back into the gin bottle.” She jogged down the driveway as her employee re-entered the retirement center.

  She found Shawna on the edge of the street, walking backward with her thumb out. Thankfully, Sunnyside was a sleepy town and the street didn’t have much traffic. “Where are you going?”

  “Anywhere that’s away from here. I’m tired of this place.” She scratched her nose and sniffed.

  “You have to stay for now. Until we can work things out about the djinni and convince your kids you can still live alone.”

  “You’ll never convince them of anything.” She stopped walking, dropped her hand to her side, and winced. “They don’t love me.”

  Her first instinct was to issue a blanket denial, but as a vision of Anton’s furious face while he demanded that she keep his mother in the retirement center at all costs flashed across her mind, she wondered if Shawna might be right. “Everyone at the center likes you. I know it can be a good home for you if you give it a chance. Come on back.”

  Shawna kicked the dirt. “There aren’t any cars going through here,” she grumbled. “And if there were, they would probably only be going across town.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and followed Zoey back up the driveway.

  When they got inside, Hope and Steve were in the main common area staring at the gin bottle that sat on a coffee table. A few retirees had gathered, curious about what was going on, and Georgio towered over everyone, arms crossed and a menacing scowl on his face.

  Hope waved a hand and said a spell, and the gin bottle bounced madly on the table for a few seconds before going still again. Georgio hadn’t budged.

  “No luck?” Zoey felt like she was stating the obvious.

  Hope shook her head. “I can’t figure out how to get him back in. It’s almost like the bottle is jammed or something. It won’t accept him.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Zoey saw Shawna creeping down the hallway toward the door to the backyard. The stubborn woman was obviously making another escape attempt. Zoey sighed and balled her hands at her sides. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” she said. “We have to figure something out.”

  “I think I need to know the spell that caused Georgio to lose his memory before I can get the bottle to accept him back in.” Hope’s brow furrowed. “That’s all I can think of—that the amnesia spell was connected to his bottle somehow, and without knowing it, I can’t reverse it. The bottle has forgotten him as much as he’s forgotten everything else.”

  Through the window, Zoey could see Shawna racing toward the center’s back property line. “She must know something about the amnesia spell.” But how could she get the woman to cooperate and tell them the spell she’d used on the djinni when she wouldn’t even stay put for five seconds? Blowing a breath out toward her bangs, Zoey made a sudden decision. Turning toward the staircase, she said to Steve over her shoulder, “Do your best to keep things stable here. I’m going to see if I can get Shawna to o
pen up.” She raced up the stairs to her suite, grabbed her purse, and then headed back downstairs and out the front door. When she got to her beat-up old Chevy, she climbed in, started it, and then said a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that she’d be able to find Shawna and figure out some way to connect with her.

  She did a U-turn in the street and drove the direction the retiree must have gone. It didn’t take long to find the woman walking slowly on the sidewalk along the street that bordered the back of the retirement home’s property. Zoey slowed the car to creep along beside her, pushing the button to lower the passenger window. “Get in,” she ordered.

  Shawna shook her head. “Last time I checked, I’m still an adult who can decide things for herself.” She sounded miserable. “Even though everyone wants to treat me like I somehow reverted back to childhood and need a babysitter at all times.”

  “I’m not here to babysit you. I just want to take you to a neutral spot so we can talk.”

  Shawna continued walking, staring at her feet.

  “Look, Georgio is dangerous. Howie’s already missing—hopefully he’s okay wherever he is. But we need to figure out how to get him back and make sure no one else gets hurt or disappears.” Zoey paused and softened her voice. “And that includes you. Please get in the car so we can talk.”

  Shawna stopped walking and glared at Zoey. “You promise I can go on my way when you’re done with your talking?”

  Not seeing a choice other than to agree, Zoey nodded, and Shawna pressed her lips together, hesitating for another moment before shuffling over to the car and getting in. She slumped in the passenger seat and stared out the window as Zoey pulled away from the shoulder and sped up.

  After they’d traveled in silence for about ten minutes while Zoey drove away from Sunnyside, Shawna asked, “Where are we going?”

  Grinning, Zoey glanced at her. “I need a break. So, I’m taking you to my favorite place.” Pausing, she wondered if she should share the next part, but if she wanted Shawna to settle down and open up, she needed to take the first step to close the distance between them. “When I was a kid, there was a lot going on at my house. My mom was always locked away in her study . . . working . . . and my dad was gone a lot. Aunt Lucinda, who was my mom’s sister, used to take me out for drives sometimes. We’d go to this spot we’re heading now, on the beach, and it was one of the only times I felt like I could totally relax and be myself.” She glanced at Shawna. “I could use some of that feeling right now, and I thought maybe you could too.”

  Shawna’s eyes sparkled with tears, and she quickly turned to stare out the window, not speaking again until Zoey pulled the car into a spot in a tiny gravel parking lot. “This is it?” Her nose wrinkled as her eyes took in the porta-potty and trash can in the lot.

  Grinning, Zoey said, “It’s just a short walk down that path. Come on.”

  The two women walked single-file down the short dirt path away from the parking lot. After about a hundred feet, it opened up to a small, deserted beach. Zoey arched her back in a long stretch and turned her face toward the sun, breathing in and then releasing the air slowly, imagining all the tension leaving her body with it. Watching her, Shawna raised her right eyebrow, and a small smile played on her lips. After a short hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and wandered down to the water, dipping her toes in and chuckling softly.

  They didn’t talk much for a while. Zoey sat on a fallen log and Shawna picked up shells and rocks out of the shallows, examined them, and tossed them back in. Eventually, she wandered over and sat next to Zoey. “This is a nice spot,” she admitted.

  Nodding, Zoey reached down and picked up a handful of sand, letting it cascade back out of her fingers a bit at a time. “I was always fascinated by sand. How it used to be rock, but the water beat it down over time into these tiny, soft, glittering kernels.”

  Shawna dug her toes into the sand and didn’t answer.

  “Sometimes I think about the sand when I’m having a hard time. It cheers me up. I think that, if a rock can become something so beautiful and welcoming after being beaten down for years, maybe getting kicked around by life a bit can make me softer too.”

  Shawna chuckled. “That’s deep.”

  Zoey stuck out her tongue at the other woman. “I get deep when life gets crazy. How about you?”

  Shawna gazed out at the ocean, which glittered and glowed in the sun. She didn’t answer the question. “Do you still come here with your aunt?”

  Zoey looked at her hands, still playing with the sand, and shook her head. “She died about five years ago. Cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. Me too. She was kind of my rock when things got nuts with my parents. I miss her. I wish . . . well, it doesn’t matter now.” Zoey didn’t want to finish the sentence and say out loud what her spirit had whispered since she was a teenager—how in her heart of hearts, she’d wished Aunt Lucinda was her mom instead.

  Shawna studied Zoey’s face carefully. “I have some things I wish I’d done differently,” she said, so softly that Zoey leaned closer to make sure she didn’t miss anything. “I was a pretty harsh mom to my kids.” Sadness washed over her features, and her blue eyes clouded with unshed tears again. “I was a single mom, and I thought I needed to be stern to get them to obey. To keep them safe.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being strict,” Zoey said. “Lots of parents are.”

  Shawna’s eyebrows bunched together. “I wasn’t just strict. I could be unreasonable and unapproachable. I was in so much pain myself because of my own childhood and then a messy divorce that I wasn’t a safe place for my kids to come and share their pain. And when they did, I always did the wrong thing.” She paused, and then seemed to make a decision. Taking a deep breath, she said in a rush of words, “There’s one thing I regret the most. Cora got pregnant when she was only sixteen, and I made her give the baby up for adoption. I didn’t want to get stuck raising another child alone.” Her words choked off, and she wiped at her nose. Swallowing hard, she continued. “I refused to look at the baby. I didn’t stay with Cora while she gave birth. I sat in the waiting room and signed the papers. The adoptive parents came and took the baby that day, and I took Cora home. We never discussed it again. To this day, I don’t even know if my grandchild was a boy or a girl.”

  Zoey could feel the other woman’s grief and regret coursing off her, an echo of the ocean waves they both stared at in silence. She thought about how Shawna had suffered over the years from the guilt her decision had left her. And how much Cora must have suffered too. It was really no wonder she and her brother were harsh toward their mother, preferring to leave her in a retirement home and wash their hands of her than deal with their unresolved feelings at how she’d raised them.

  They sat, each wrapped in their own thoughts, as the sun got lower over the water, dazzling orange, pink, and yellow colors blazing across the sky above them as though a giant, invisible painter was slaving over the canvas. After a while, Zoey asked gently, “Are you ready to go home?”

  Without looking away from the water, the elderly lady whispered, “Just another few minutes. I want to feel the sand in my toes for just another few minutes. Then, I’ll go with you.”

  The few minutes stretched into half an hour, and Zoey could feel the shift in the energy between them. They were no longer a jailer and her prisoner, butting heads and at odds. They were suddenly just two people. Women who’d somehow managed to find some common ground. They’d made a connection.

  Chapter 19

  When they arrived back at the retirement center, Shawna murmured something and headed directly to her room. Her shoulders slumped as she walked away, and Zoey’s gut hurt at the sight. Regardless of the mistakes she’d made in her past, the woman was part of the retirement center family now. One of Zoey’s flock. She deserved some peace and happiness in her golden years, but Zoey had no idea how to help her find it.

  Her own shoulders felt heavy as she plopped on
to the loveseat.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Zoey hadn’t heard Ashley enter the common room. The chef had a worried look on her face.

  “Actually, Shawna hasn’t eaten dinner yet. I’ve noticed you seem to be learning what each of the residents really loves to eat. Is there something you know of that she’d like? A special dish that might cheer her up?”

  Ashley’s features brightened. “Yep! I know just the thing. She’s been craving a nice, old-fashioned fish and chips dinner. And I know how to make a great version.” A cloudy look crossed her face. “I don’t have all the ingredients, though. I need some nice fresh cod and a couple ingredients for my breading.”

  “I’ll go get it.” Steve and Hope must have been in one of the residency wings because they’d entered the common room from that direction. “Hey, boss.”

  “Hey. Any luck with getting Georgio back in the gin bottle?”

  Hope shook her head. “I’m pretty convinced we need to know the spell that screwed him up before we can return him. And I am completely out of bright ideas on how to figure it out.” She paused and cast a cool look at Zoey. “I need to go take care of my own life. Maybe next time, you’ll listen to me right off the bat instead of muddling around on your own ideas long enough for things to get really messed up first.” She grabbed her purse from a hook beside the front door and grabbed the doorknob. “Call me if you figure out what spell was used to make the djinni forget everything.”

  It seemed to Zoey that Hope closed the door behind her a bit harder than she really needed to. She stuck her tongue out at it and pouted. It felt like she was sticking her tongue out a lot lately. Her mother would have swatted her for that. Maybe that’s why she did it.

  “Well, um, I can get started slicing up potatoes for the chips, I guess,” Ashley said very softly.

  Zoey jumped up. “I’ll go to the grocery store too. Maybe it will help clear my head to do something mundane.”

  Steve made a knightly flourish with his hand to gesture Zoey ahead of him out the door. They just caught a glimpse of the back of Hope’s sportscar pulling out of the driveway, and Zoey stuck her tongue out at its tail lights for good measure.