
The Best of Times Short Story Competition
Spring 2024 Results
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Be Careful What You Wish For
Copyright © Jan-Andrew Henderson 2024When Scarlet saw an oil lamp at her neighbour’s garage sale, she had to have it. It was just like the ones she’d seen in old picture books, with a whisp of smoke coming from the spout and everything. The kind of lamp that always harboured a Genie.
Not that Scarlet expected a Genie or even wanted one. She was playing Aladdin in the Bellwbowrie Dram Llama School Theatre Group’s Christmas panto and it was a perfect prop.
“How much do you want for this?” she asked her neighbour.
“It belonged to my ex-wife before she took off with the pool cleaner,” he replied sadly. “Was one of her most precious possessions and she never let anyone touch it.”
Scarlet had no trouble believing that. It was absolutely filthy, covered in dust and cobwebs.
“How come you’ve got it then?” she asked.
“Let’s just say it fell into the back of my lorry,” he shrugged “$2.00 and it’s yours.”
The first thing Scarlet did when she got home was take a rag and clean the lamp. Not because she thought a Genie would come out. Just because it needed a good polish.
As she rubbed, a whisp of green smoke began emerging from the spout.
“Oh, come on,” she muttered. “You have got to be kidding me.”
The smoke grew thicker and greener and bigger until it filled her bedroom. Then, it slowly congealed into a large man. He was emerald in colour, his muscled torso was bare and he had a bald head except for a black ponytail at the back. He wore only a loincloth but thick wood and metal bangles encased his wrists and ankles.
“Greetings, princess.” He folded his arms and nodded to her. “I am the Genie of the Lamp. You can call me Alan. I’m here to grant you three wishes.”
“Because I’ve freed you from your imprisonment?” Having memorised the script for Aladdin, Scarlet considered herself pretty well versed in Genieology.
“Nah, It’s more like a mobile home. Looks much bigger on the inside.” Alan plonked himself on her bed. “Pretty sweet digs, really. Got a lot of big cushions.”
“So, what’s with the wishes?”
“It’s what Genies do. You could call it part of our job description.” Alan winked at her. “Once I’ve granted yours, it’s back into the lamp, put me feet up and watch some Netflix.”
“What did your last owner ask for?” Scarlet thought she’d better do some research.”
“One. You’re not my owner. I’m self-employed.” Alan raised a scornful eyebrow. “Two. My last client wasn’t the brightest. She wished for a hunky pool cleaner. Then she wished she’d be irresistible to the hunky pool cleaner.”
“And the third one?”
“She had to wish for a pool. Really hadn’t thought it through.” Alan got up and began to rummage around Scarlet’s bedroom. “You can take your time, though. It’s hours till lunch.”
Scarlet pondered various possibilities while the Genie picked things up and put them down again.
“Baseball bat? You don’t look the sporty type.”
“It’s my brother’s. I use it to swat flies.”
“You’ve got a lot of Taylor Swift posters, I see. Fearless is a good song but I prefer Olivia Rodrigo.”
“They’re both pretty cool.”
“Hmmmm. A unicorn snow globe.” He picked the ornament up and violently shook it. “Unicorns are horrible, you know. I don’t care if they poop rainbows. They should carry a scoop around like other mythical animals."
“All right.” Scarlet held up a hand. “I know what I want.”
“That was quick.” Alan sat down again. “Do proceed.”
“Firstly, I wish for ten million dollars.”
“Done.” Alan snapped his fingers and the bed rose a few inches. “You’re too young to have a bank account, so I’ve stuck it under your mattress in untraceable bills.
“Thank you. Secondly, I’d like a hundred thousand followers on TikTok.”
Alan twitched his nose a few times.
“Also sorted. Though you’ll have to do more than post the occasional clip of you singing Ariana Grande tracks into your hairbrush to keep them.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Scarlet smirked smugly. “Thirdly, I’d like three more wishes, please.”
“Ah…. Yeah. No.” The Genie tapped long fingernails together. “That’s one’s not gonna be coming true.”
“What?” Scarlet was taken aback. “Why not?”
“Thems the rules, I’m afraid.” Alan clapped his hands and a piece of paper appeared between his palms. “Allow me to quote them to you.”
He put on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and began to read.
“As a member of the Society of Magical Genies - Arabian Chapter - you shall not grant any boon that enables the wisher, either directly or indirectly, to increase the number of wishes they are allotted. Namely three.” He took off his glasses. “There’s another few pages of small print but that pretty much covers it.”
“Oh.” Scarlet thought some more. “I wish you would change your mind.”
“Nice try. But I won’t.” Alan lay back on the bed. “See… you can’t make me grant a wish if I think it contravenes the rules."
“Can I wish to have my own magical powers?”
“You can. I’ll refuse. Unless it’s pooping rainbows.”
“OK. I wish I could travel back in time.”
“Ain’t happening.”
“I wish I had a second Genie.”
“Request denied.”
“I wish that rule book didn’t exist.”
“Nope.” The Genie sighed. “Why can’t you just ask for a pony like every other kid?”
“I’m allergic to animals.”
Scarlet paced up and down for a few minutes, thinking. Alan pulled a Samsung S24 from thin air and began watching YouTube videos.
“You win.” The girl finally sat down next to him. “I wish to be the world’s best neurosurgeon.”
“Wasn’t expecting that!” Alan squinted at her. “Why, may I ask?”
“$10,000,000 won’t last forever in today’s economy and everyone wants to have a decent career when they grow up. Don’t neurologists make a ton of money?”
“Beats me,” Alan shrugged. “Let’s Google it.”
He typed a few words into his mobile and began to read the results out loud. “Hmmmmm. Neurosurgeons specialise in head trauma and operating on the brain. Blah, blah, blah…. Some other stuff. Ah. Here we go. The discipline requires many years of study and its practitioners are some of the country’s highest-paid individuals.”
He gave a low whistle.
“What a clever move.” He waved a ringed and in the air. “Consider it done.”
“Thanks. I feel smarter already.”
“All rightee.” Alan hoisted himself off the bed. “Another half-satisfied customer. I’ll be on my merry way."
Scarlet waited until his back was turned, then picked up the baseball bat. She took careful aim as he picked up the snow globe to give it a final shake. Then she swung and hit him right behind his left ear.
The Genie collapsed with a grunt, out cold on the floor. Scarlet knelt beside him and waited. Eventually, he regained consciousness and sat up.
“Oooooh.” He felt his scalp gingerly. “What happened?”
“Sorry. I dropped the lamp as you were coming out.” Scarlet put on a contrite face. “I think you must have landed on your head.”
“And who on earth are you?” The Genie winced. “My memory seems a bit hazy.”
“That’s probably due to concussion. I’m Scarlet. I bought the lamp at a garage sale.”
“In that case, greetings, Princess.” He folded his arms and nodded to her. “I am the Genie of the Lamp. You can call me Alan. I’m here to grant you three wishes.”