From: rbenson@pacificnet.net Date: Fri, 15 Nov 1996 17:33:48 -0800 Subject: Story: SRU- Three Wishes Three Wishes Michael looked out the bay window at the thickening clouds. "Do you really think it's gonna snow tonight, Mom?" He walked into the kitchen where his mother was preparing both dinner and the favors for her son's birthday party that evening. "Yep. Weatherman says it's gonna be the earliest snowfall in years. Pity it's coming on Halloween, let's hope it holds off until after both the trick-or-treaters and your friends can get home." Halloween. For most kids, it was a day to wander the streets dressed as cowboys or vampires or even these days Power Rangers (Michael's mom was oh-so-glad that her son preferred the Disney stuff, especially that Aladdin show) and get a bunch of candy. For Michael, it was a double holiday, which meant having the biggest party in the neighborhood every year. This year was trebly special, as it was Friday night, and the kids could stay later than last year. "Anything I can do to help, Mom?" Michael looked around the kitchen, trying to find something to occupy his time. She looked over at him and smiled, "You can set the table and feed your dog." She paused, then added, "and you can open _one_ present before your father gets home, okay?" Michael beamed. "Okay!" He quickly put three place settings out and went to the kitchen door, walking outside in the brisk air. Clouds continued to build, those high wispy ones he liked so much. "Sasha! Sasha, c'mon, girl, supper!" he cried out. He looked down and across the street into the woods, scanning for her. "C'mon, Sasha, come and get it!" An explosion of brush and a streak of tan fur zipped across the street and up the driveway, barely hugging the curving walkway before nearly toppling the boy as it entered the house. A wet nose snuffled under Michael's hand as the shepherd looked expectantly at her food dish, then back to her owner. "Michael, how many times have I told you to fix her dinner first before calling her, you know how excited she gets." His mom opened the oven and checked the turkey. "Try not to spill anything, I just cleaned up while you were at school." "Yeah Mom, I won't." Michael opened up the pantry and took out Sasha's bowl and dry food. She started leaping around in expectation. "Easy girl, you're not a puppy anymore, and today's your birthday, too!" Michael tried to calm her down by talking to her. It seemed to help a little bit. He had wanted a dog so badly when he was ten, but his parents decided to wait until his next birthday to get him Sasha. This was only after he proved to them that he was responsible enough to take care of an animal. Three years later, he hadn't let them down. He didn't know when Sasha's real birthday was, so he celebrated her birthday on his own. Some of his friends got the dog presents too, his mom thought that was a nice gesture. The dry food spilled into the bowl noisily, making Sasha jump more, trying to get to her meal. "No!" Michael said, opening the fridge to get the gravy to pour over the kibbles. Sasha wasn't having it, she jumped up at Michael, hitting him just as he turned with the ladle full of her favorite treat. Michael was knocked back into the counter, causing the gravy to fall from his hand. The ceramic pourer arced in perfect slow motion, ending its short descent by smashing into a half dozen pieces on the floor, a shower of gravy raining down around it. "Sasha! No! Stop! Oh, Mom!" She turned around, and shook her head, then smiled. "Pick up the pieces before she tries to eat them, Mike. I think Sasha will clean up the mess for you." Mike looked a bit downtrodden as he picked up the broken pot. "Sasha... Oh well, here's your food anyhow." He set the dish down next to the dwindling puddle of gravy, momentarily giving the dog too many choices. She spent the next three minutes alternating between the floor and the food bowl before finishing up all that was before her. She barked in appreciation, and curled up next to the fireplace to take a nap. Michael's mom checked the food once more, and satisfied that the gravy was cleaned up, walked back to the bedroom. She brought back a small package wrapped with the characters from Michael's favorite show. "Here, Mike, this should brighten your spirits, it's from your Uncle Alex down in the city." It did. Michael looked at the wrapping, forgetting the mishap. "Wow! Aladdin paper! Can I keep it?" His mom didn't see why not. He carefully unwrapped the gift, looking at the nondescript box enclosed. "Go on, open it." His mom smiled as her son lifted the lid and removed the present inside. "Oh wow! Cool! A genie lamp! This is great! Just like Aladdin!" He paused for a second, his smile managing to widen even more. "Even better, we can use it for Sasha's gravy! And it's metal, so she won't break it this time! Sasha! Come look!" The dog lifted her head and glanced at what the boy was waving around, sniffed once, then set her head back down to drift back into sleep. "Yes, you can use it for her gravy, but clean it up first, okay?" Michael looked over the lamp and lifted the lid. "It's really dirty inside, Mom, I'm gonna put it in the dishwasher." She nodded as a car pulled up in the driveway. "Dad's home, go clean up, dinner's ready." The meal went smoothly enough, Mike's parents discussing the chance that they might have the biggest sleep-over of the year if the storm moved in early. The dishes went into the dishwasher, which was then turned on, humming silently in the background as the final preparations were being made for the party. Soon enough, the doorbell rang, and the first few kids began to show up for the party. A half hour later, a half dozen children were running around, quickly filling the house. Michael's mom brought in a tray of sodas when Sasha bumped up against her legs. "Mike? Would you let the dog out, I think she needs to go." Just then, the front doorbell rang. "Hon, will you get that, it's more trick-or-treaters." She weaved her way around the kids and handed them each a Coke. Her husband came back into the room. "Who was it?" she asked her husband as Michael returned from letting the dog out. He took his pop. "It was the Gallow kids, dressed up like gangsters. Mike, why didn't you invite them?" "Dad, they're the school bullies, they hate me. They're just trouble." His dad nodded and went back to his post to await another doorbell ring, kind of glad that this was his year to deal with the costumed set. Soon the party was in full force, and it was time for the presents. Michael wasn't let down again this year. Dozens of toys came his way, and then the final two presents came out, both from his parents. The kids ooh'd and ahh'd at the size of the larger one, with Michael just staring at it. The smaller package was ripped open in short time. "Oh, cool- the Aladdin movie! Thanks, Mom, thanks, Dad!" It was set aside briefly in favor of the larger present. Michael unwrapped it just as enthusiastically, and gasped. "A doghouse! Oh cool, Sasha will love this, wow!" He looked around for his pet. "She's still outside. Ah wow, she's gonna love this. Thanks!!" He looked over the new accommodations for his dog, and beamed. Just then, the front doorbell rang again. "That's funny, it's only 9:00... who could that be?" Michael's dad opened the front door to see Bobby's mother standing shivering on the porch. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sanders, but the storm's here, and I wanted to get my son before the roads got too bad." "Please, come in. Bobby! Your mom's here!" A groan came up from the peanut gallery. He glanced outside at the first flakes of winter falling outside. "They say how much we're supposed to get?" Bobby gathered up his things and thanked Michael for inviting him. "About 6 inches, maybe more.... Really unusual for this time of year, I'm afraid." Michael's dad nodded as Bobby trudged out into the night with his mom. It didn't take long for the party to clear out at that point. Seemed the local TV stations had put out weather advisories, bringing all the parents calling for their kids early. By 9:45 the last party-goer had been ushered out the door, leaving an exhausted Michael and two more exhausted parents surveying the damage. "Bedtime, Mike! Go get Sasha, she's probably dying of cold out there." Mike went to the door and called for his dog. "Sasha, c'mon, girl! Sasha!" She didn't come to his call. "C'mon, Sasha, it's getting cold! Mom, she's not coming." "That's okay, Mike, she's built for this kind of weather, she's probably taken shelter from the storm. She can take care of herself, y'know. She'll be back in the morning." Mike nodded, and looked around. "Anything I can do to help out?" "You can unload the dishwasher, kid." Mike nodded, and popped into the kitchen, putting the dishes away. "Hey, Mom? Can I put the turkey gravy in the fridge?" "Sure, just don't make a mess, okay?" Mike and his mom both burst out into laughter, leaving his Dad out of the joke. Soon enough, everything was put away, and Mike's mom was tucking her son in. "Thanks for everything, Mom, it was great." She kissed him goodnight and turned off the light. "Mom?" "Yes, dear?" "You sure Sasha's gonna be okay in the storm?" "Of course, Mike. Dogs have been around a lot longer than us, they take care of themselves. See you in the morning." Mike was asleep seconds after the light went out as the snow continued to pile up outside. Bright sunshine woke Michael early, and he looked outside at the brilliant white landscape that greeted him. "Oh man! We got a ton of snow!" He hopped out of bed and put on some clothes. His parents were drinking morning coffee when he looked around. "Where's Sasha?" he asked. "We just got up ourselves, Mike. Why don't you go get her?" Michael opened the door and called for his dog. "Sasha, c'mere! C'mon pup!" He looked out at the woods, and thought he saw some movement, and smiled. "C'mon, girl! Get inside, you have to see what we got for you!" The dog trudged out of the snow slowly... too slowly. Mike looked a bit concerned as the shepherd collapsed into a snowdrift, then got back up. Concern turned to fear and worry as he saw a bright crimson stain left behind where the dog had fallen. "MOM!!!! DAD!!! Sasha's hurt!" Mike ran to the closet to get his boots and coat, and was out the door before his parents could see what was the matter. Michael was across the street, tramping through a foot of snow to get to his dog, who was barely able to make across the street to their front yard. "Sasha! No. No!" Michael could see a huge gash mark across her shoulder, and worse yet, a pair of large cuts on her rear flank. The cuts were far too regular to have been made by anything but a knife. Her fur was matted down by a mass of drying blood and dirt. Sasha had lost a lot of blood, and was very weak, but tried her best to lick Michael's face as he dropped to his knees in front of her. Michael's father appeared next to him, his face ashen. His son turned to look at him, "Do something, Dad, she's hurt." Michael's father kneeled next to his son and rubbed his shoulder, nodding. "Stay here with her, try to keep her calm, okay?" He turned, and ran back to the house, looking with worry to his wife. "What happened?" she asked, incredulously. "I don't know," he said. "All I know is that dog needs a vet, and fast." He flipped open the phone book and called, fingers stabbing at the phone. It rang... and rang... "Thank you for calling the Green Valley Veterinary Clinic. Due to the snow emergency, our offices are closed. If you need immediate medical attention for your pet, please call the County Animal Emergency Clinic at...." He wrote down the number quickly, and called County. "Hello, this is County Animal Emer-" The voice at the other end of the line was cut off. "Hello, this is Albert Sanders, I've got a wounded dog here, she needs help. What?" He explained Sasha's situation to the person on the other end of the line, then nodded, jotting down some information, and stopped. "You're located where? That's over an hour from here on a good day, and that road's closed 'cause of the snow! Can't you do anything?" He paused for a bit, then looked over at his wife, then back down at the phone. "Thank you. Good-bye. Yes, I'm sorry, too." Mr. Sanders sighed deeply, then looked at his wife. He started to say something, then stopped, and sat down. Michael appeared at the door. "C'mon, Dad, we've got to get her to the vet. C'mon, let's go! She's really bleeding out there." "Michael. The vet is closed because of the snow. We can't get Sasha to the hospital." Michael started yelling, "No! No! Dad, no!" Michael's mom gave her son a hug. "The county vet said that there's nothing we can do, except to make her comfortable until..." He sighed deeply. "C'mon, Mike." His mom walked over to the fridge, and took out the gravy. "Take this out to her, at least she'll have something she likes. I'm sorry. I should've never told you to put her out." She looked like she was about to cry. Michael took the treat out to his dog as his parents hugged. Sasha's tail thumped weakly as she lay in a pile of crimson snow, trying to get up to go to Michael. "No, Sasha, stay. I've got something for you, silly." He tried to smile, but failed, tears welling up in his eyes. He poured a bit of the gravy over Sasha's lips, spilling some onto the snow, the lamp, and himself. He set the lamp down next to his pet as he wiped the excess gravy off on his pants. He started to cry, shuddering to himself. Sasha licked the gravy off her muzzle, and then off the side of the lamp weakly, her tail thumping against the wet snow. Michael wasn't ready for what happened next. A yellow-green cloud of smoke billowed forth, causing the boy to momentarily forget about Sasha as he fell back, trying to avoid the cloud. The dog looked up and blinked at the forming Genie before her. "Oh, this is rich. Absolutely rich. Wait until the Academy hears about this one. Kings, yes. Thieves, yes, but a dog? Oh, what else could go wrong today. It was bad enough that I'm covered in this goo, but a dog?" He sighed, and looked at Sasha, then noticed how hurt she was. He looked back at Michael. "Yours? Sorry, kid. You know the rules, right?" Michael blinked, then looked back at the house, then up and down the street. There wasn't anyone else around, this had to be for real. "Rules? Uh, you mean the three wishes thing?" "Yes," the Genie said sarcastically, "'the three wishes thing,' but more importantly, _who_ gets the three wishes." "The one who rubs the lamp, everyone knows that." He looked at the Genie, then back to Sasha, then back to the Genie. "You mean?" "Yes. The dog gets the wishes. Oh man. I should've paid more attention in Animal Communication in school. Okay. I hope I get this right. There'll be lawsuits, lawyers...." He turned to Michael. "You know the only thing more powerful than a Genie is a Genie with a law degree? Okay. What's her name?" "It's Sasha." Mike blinked back a tear as Sasha struggled to stand up. "No, girl, stay down." The Genie waved a hand. "It's okay. She's not going to die, at least not for a bit." The boy blanched. "Kid, look at her. Oh... right, sensitivity training. Okay. She's really badly hurt, and things don't look good. All right. Sasha? Sasha. You get three wishes, do you know what wishes are? Of course you don't. You're a dog. Okay." The Genie shook his head a bit, and concentrated, then reformed himself, looking like a yellow-green retriever. He began to whine and posture a bit to Sasha, who struggled a bit, but seemed to respond. Michael watched, trying to figure out why he could understand what Sasha was trying to say. The Genie-dog looked over his shoulder at Michael. "She said, 'I wish he could have seen what happened.'" The Genie-doglooked back to Sasha, and said one word. "Done!" The world spun a bit, and things slowly got dark, and warmer. The snow melted away leaving Michael sitting... no, floating above his front yard. It took him a second to figure out where he was, until he heard a trio of kids coming towards him across the front yard. He tried to say something, but they didn't hear him. The kids continued to walk towards where Michael was, and then passed right through him! It clicked suddenly. The Gallow kids, from the night before, coming to trick or treat. Michael heard the side door open, and then heard himself let Sasha out. He managed float to the side of the house in time to see her lick his hand at the door, then turn to go into the backyard, sniffing around. It was the night before. His own dad opened the door. "Trick-or-Treat!" they said, and his dad dropped some candy into each of their bags, saying 'Good night,' before closing the door after them. The Gallow kids left the porch, "Man, I can't believe Michael." Mike hated it when the kids called him that, everyone called him Mike. "He thinks he's so much better than us, and he's got all his friends here." Sasha padded down the driveway, warily looking over at the trio of kids on the front steps. "Hey, I got an idea." They walked over to Sasha, who danced gracefully away from them. "C'mon dog. C'mon, I got a treat for you. C'mere." Michael watched as Sasha continued to trot down the driveway, a bit slower now, still looking at the kids. They followed her down the street and into the woods, the oldest brother opening his candy bag. "C'mon, dog, I got something for ya." He laughed a bit, reaching into his pocket to take out his jackknife. "I got something really nice." Sasha stopped, and sniffed the air, scenting the candy suddenly. She took a preliminary step towards the woods where the kids were, then walked a bit faster to them, tongue lolling out of her mouth. She let down her guard as the Gallow kids surrounded her, smacking her lips to take the candy from the eldest boy. It took just that long for him to hook the knife across her shoulder, leaving a deep bleeding cut. Another two slices across her flank left deep gouges in her leg. She yelped, the candy dropping from her muzzle as her own body gave out from under her, and she collapsed. Michael screamed at the top of his lungs as the Gallow boys ran laughing up the street. It got cold suddenly, and bright. Michael sat yelling and throwing punches in the air before realizing that the scene was over. He started screaming at the Genie. "I hate them! I hate them!" Over and over he yelled it, sobbing. "They killed her!" The Genie stopped him. "No, they only hurt her badly. She's still alive." Michael stopped, and looked at Sasha, who looked back at him, and tried to stretch out a bit. The Genie looked back at Sasha, and did more of the dog-speak act. Sasha replied, the Genie nodded. The discussion continued for a bit, and then the Genie looked back at Michael, smiling. "What did she say?" asked the boy. "She says she wished you could've stopped them. Done!" The world spun again, but this time familiarly. Michael was back floating in his front yard. The Gallow Boys were there, coming towards him. He started yelling at them this time, trying to get their attention, but once again, they passed right through him. "What? Genie! How can I stop them? I'm _not here_!" Michael panicked, seeing himself let Sasha out. He went over to her and tried to grab her collar, tried to distract her to keep her from going down the driveway, but the dog didn't acknowledge his existence. "Genie!! Genie!! What's going on!" Michael moved down his driveway, following his dog as she went to the Gallow boys in the woods. "How am I supposed to stop this if I'm not here!" He didn't want to watch his dog be sliced again, and fled deeper into the trees. He heard the eldest boy calling for Sasha, and anger welled up deeply inside of him, a dark coldness that chilled him to the bone. Or not! Michael suddenly turned around. It _was_ cold, he was cold, he was there! The realization barely took hold when an odd tingling sensation wrapped around his body, and suddenly it was not quite as cold. Looking down at himself, he realized that his pink skin was melting softly into a much darker color, and fur was splitting out of his pores, covering him. He hadn't realized he wasn't wearing any clothes before, but then again, he hadn't exactly really been there, either. The fur continued to wash over him as he fell to the forest floor, his hand shrinking, his fingernails curling outwards, becoming darker than his skin, hooking into a dog's paw! Michael watched the rest of his body slowly work itself into a new form. He recognized in the brightening light that he was becoming a Shepherd like Sasha, then became aware that it wasn't brightening at all- he could see really well at night. His bodily inspection continued as a long flowing brush of a tail slipped from over his rear. He tentatively wagged it, and then sniffed the air, marveling at the scents around him. One scent in particular stood out from the others. "Sasha!!" He didn't know how far he'd wandered into the wood, but began to sprint up towards the street. He saw Sasha walking to the boys, almost to them... He panicked, he was too late! He started yelling, "Sasha! Stop! Run! Get away!" but all that came out was a series of short punctuated barks. To his amazement, Sasha stopped, and barked in return, startled. The Gallow kids turned to face him, wide eyed in fear at the large barking German Shepherd bounding up towards them with teeth flashing. "Let's get out of here!" The eldest kid dropped his knife and fled, running from the snarling beast. Michael stopped, then looked. Candy. Knife. Sasha. Sasha unhurt! She was okay. He went over to her happily, but she moved back from him, sniffing at the air. She sniffed again, then looked at him quizzically. "Mike?" Michael stood still, looking over Sasha. He had understood her, somehow, and more importantly, she had understood him. He tried to say, "Yes, it's me, Sasha," but ended up lowering his head and wagging his tail. She replied, moving towards him and licking his chin. The boy's mind heard, "Thank you, Mike." The boy smiled in an oddly doggish way, and barked happily. The world started to lighten once again, and Michael blinked at the amazingly white world before him. He stepped back, then sat back on his haunches. "Wow, it's bright today..." He pawed at the ground, realizing he was still a dog. "Yes, it's wonderful, it snowed so much last night, Mike. It's beautiful." Mike blinked. "Sasha?" The Shepherd looked at him, and nodded. "Yes. It's me, Mike." The Genie looked down at the pair of animals before him, and grinned. Mike looked up at him. "I'm still a dog, Genie. What happened." "Three wishes, Mike, or should I say, 'Mick?'" The Genie fingered a tag hanging from a collar around Michael's neck, and then promptly disappeared, leaving no trace of him, or the lamp. Michael looked around at the pristine snow as Sasha happily licked at his face and ears. "Hey, quiddit, Sasha! Let's go inside." He stopped suddenly. "Inside! Oh no! What about Mom and Dad?" "Don't worry about it, we'd better get inside." Sasha padded up the driveway to the side door, and scratched to be let in. Michael hesitantly followed her, trying to stay out of sight. His mom opened the slider and looked down at Sasha. "There you are, Sasha! Staying out all night again? Where's Mick at?" She looked towards the wood, and was about to call when she noticed the other shepherd hiding behind the trash cans. 'There you are, c'mon boy. You're letting the heat out." Michael was having trouble making out all the words, but did smell food, which motivated him inside to where the Sanders' were making breakfast on this cold, cold November first. The woman scratched his ears pleasantly, and tossed both him and Sasha a bacon strip as she closed the door behind her. "Radio says the storm's got all the roads closed, guess it's just the two of us today, dear," said the man who was munching on some eggs. "Glad Alex sent us those two dog houses last week, eh? Would you look at all this snow!" He smiled, and kissed his wife as Michael and Sasha lay down by the fireplace. Later the next week a man sat down at the local mall to his Philly Cheesesteak sandwich. An older man stopped next to him, with a rice bowl from the Chinese place at the food court. "How did those dog houses work out for you, Alex?" The businessman was still surprised that the old man knew his name, or remembered him out of all the other customers he must have seen in the busy week before Halloween. Why he'd decided to pick up his brother's anniversary gift at a mall occult store he had no idea, but he was out of time and needed something. "They liked them a lot, especially with the snow they got up there over the weekend. My brother's happy, too. I still think I should've picked up that lamp you showed me, though." The old man nodded, and said, "Things have a way of working out in the end, Alex. Enjoy your lunch." He moved on to another seat nearby, thinking to himself that things don't always work out the way you plan them.