A Fine Little Bottle of Fortune
It had been an average London Wednesday that I awoke to that morning, and it stayed so for some time. The thick fog and factory smoke hid the Thames from my view as I peered out the lone window in my top floor suite. Yes, just the edge of Vauxhall Bridge was visible, with the lethargic shapes of early vendors claiming their places for the day. I picked up my favourite, and only, battered pocket watch from the bedside. It was nearly five o'clock, and I was needed at Scotland Yard in Central London, up past Westminster, at six. I sprang into reluctant action, buttoning my waistcoat, tweed and worn, over my grey-tinged shirt. Being part of the lower-classmen of London, my few shirts had become stained grey by the filthy air I worked in. The cab I took to the Yard was stationed across the river in Millbank at this time, and so it was that I was daily obliged to walk the bridge, past countless peddlers selling items I would never afford.
It was all made bearable by the companionship of my dear friend Enoch Gladstone, ever the optimist, who I was fortunate enough to meet at the Yard. Now, do not misunderstand me, we may be employed by the Scotland Yard, but we do not hold honorable positions. As shown by our less-than-satisfactory appearance, we are merely message runners, people hired to manually forward inquiries, sparing the expense of a telegram.
A sharp knock sounded against my door, just as I was pulling my wool coat on. Stuffing my pocket watch hurriedly into my jacket, I opened the door. The young landlady, Ms. Catharine Morgan, stood smiling at my tired face as I closed the door behind me.
"Lovely morning Cassius!" She said brightly.
"Just on my way out to meet Enoch," I looked down at the letter in her hands.
"Did you need something?" I inquired politely. Ms. Morgan was one of a kind. Not only did she offer me board and room at a progressively smaller fee, but she was my only good friend other than Enoch. Her smile faded a tad as she fingered the edge of the heavy, official parchment. Dear Catharine always had good intentions, but tended to be a bit nosey when it came to other people's business. I could feel the weight of my watch in my pocket, and I could almost hear the hands ticking like my increasingly frantic heartbeat. If I didn't budge along quickly, I would miss Enoch and the cab.
"What is it, Catharine?" She held up the letter, and I couldn't help but notice the broken wax seal. Colour flooded Catharine's cheeks as she spoke quickly, her words pressed together as if it would lessen my disapproval.
"See Cassius I couldn't help it, it was from the Yard, and I was worried for you, really unavoidable seeing as you're my friend I—"
"Really Catharine, I must be going," I cut her off impatiently, "If it's another notice about my perpetual lateness, as it must be, then it won't help my case if I continue the pattern after receiving it! Just be a dear and leave it 'till later." She frowned, flustered, as I patted her arm and slid past her.
"Cassius, I-"
"Good day Catharine!" I stepped out into the mist and set off down the cobbles, towards a lone figure by the Thames. I didn't look back, however, I could still see Catharine's concerned face burned in my mind, and I pushed the image to the back of my head. This time of morning, when the vendors where only just done arranging their wares, was strangely enough, very tense. The sellers would spend most of their day calling out to people, but now was the calm before the storm. As a rule, no-one wanted to be the first to start yelling, be the first to break the delicate peace of the morning on the echo-prone riverside.
"Enoch!" I called, waving my arm as I strode towards my friend. The figure turned, and waved back, his voice cutting through the hesitant silence of the morning as I drew nearer.
"Cassius, mate, what took you so long?" I clapped him on the back, and we began on our way along Albert Embankment Street to Vauxhall Bridge.
"Come now, Enoch! You know full well I hurried, and we have plenty of time before the cabbies leave." As soon as our voices had broken the silence, the vendors eagerly began to call out. We strode out across the bridge as the weak morning sun began trying to burn off the fog. We exchanged stories of yesterday's runs for the Scotland Yard, our eyes trailing, resigned to our lack of wealth, over the colourful fabrics and shining wet fish in baskets, the sweet smelling crusty bread and glittering trinkets. We had been just to the end of the bridge when a voice caught our attention, a vagrant with piercing blue eyes shining from behind his scraggly mat of curly black hair.
"Oi! You two gentleman! What's the time?" I looked at Enoch, and he shrugged, so we stepped warily towards the man. Enoch pulled out his grimy pocket watch, flipped it open, and held it so the man could see.
"Five-twenty." said Enoch tersely.
"Hold it a bit closer mate, my eyes aren't as good as they used to be." Enoch obliged, but some part of me wanted to stop him. I didn't believe the man's 'poor sight' excuse, his eyes were as clear as water. He peered at the watch, then smiled widely at Enoch.
"Thank ye. And good job with clearing up that drinking problem." Enoch, who I had been subtly tugging along, whipped around, affronted, while I jumped in surprise.
"Why I never!" He glared at the man, who gestured at Enoch's watch.
"There are marks round the winding hole, where your hand has slipped and scratched it with the crown. Tell-tale sign you drink to excess, but the grooves are just as dirty as the rest of the watch-" Enoch rubbed the watch on his coat. "-so you haven't made any new ones lately. Hence, you've gotten over the drinking." He smiled triumphantly.
I nudged Enoch. "Or just can't afford it." He shot a glare at me and looked pointedly away as the man held out his grubby hand.
"The names' Elias Fletcher." I smiled slightly.
"And have you been asking everyone that comes by to see the time on the off chance you'd find someone to surprise with that information?"
He grinned. "Perhaps." I turned to Enoch.
"Elementary, but nonetheless effective. And why did you need to get anyone's attention anyway? Are you selling something?"
"Indeed sir. I suppose you'd like to see it?" I shrugged, and saw Enoch huff impatiently behind me. "You see, sirs, I deal not in trinket and toys like those fools-" He gestured to the other vendors. "-but in access to your wildest dreams." I shot him a confused look. "Wishes, good sirs, wishes?" Enoch froze in his attempts to drag me away. The Elias's unworldly, unsettling eyes flashed as he smirked. Enoch let his arms drop from my shoulders, and spoke in a flat, disconnected tone.
"Blimey. I think he's telling the truth, mate." I nodded slowly as the Elias rummaged in his coat. It was a patchwork of different fabrics stitched together with dark-red thread.
"I reckon so." Elias held up a miniscule flask, filled with a clear, golden liquid, in his grubby hands. The bottle and it's contents had seemed so pure and innocent, that it looked out of place in Elias's possession. I immediately wanted to snatch it out of his unworthy hands. He grinned, a bit menacing, at our entranced expressions.
"You want it, don't you, Cassius." A thought drifted momentarily across my mind, wondering how Elias knew my name, but it was crushed violently by unseen figures, their darkness out of place in my head.
"Yes. I do. Yes." Elias studied me for a moment.
"I think I'll give it to you free, just this once. How'd you like that, lad?"
"Yes." I held out my hand shakily, and Elias dropped it there.
"One drop for each wish, lad. And mind you, don't waste them." Enoch shook his head, as if clearing water from his ears, and pulled me aside by my arm. I looked back to where Elias had been standing not a moment ago, but he had vanished.
"Come on, mate, or we'll be late to Scotland Yard." Enoch made to pull me away again, but I stood rooted to the spot, as if tangled weeds and vines had twisted up between the cobbles and secured me there.
"Enoch. Listen," I held up the bottle, swaying a bit on my feet. "We don't need to. What I hold here is the key to eternal wealth." Enoch frowned.
"Well, maybe, Cassius, but mate, I...well, I...I don't know." I shook my head.
"We should do it now. I should." Enoch frowned again at the bottle, dissecting it's physical traits with the scrutiny of a jeweler assessing an unreasonably large diamond.
"Cassius, you've read the same stories I have; about wishes. Everything always goes wrong." I slung my arm around his shoulder and held up the gleaming golden bottle level with our eyes.
"Which is why, Enoch, I'm going to be extremely specific. No loop holes or gaps." He slowly nodded in assent.
"Money first right? As a test? You've probably got three drops in there."
"Yes." I pondered for a moment, organizing my thoughts slowly and mentally sewing up any gaps in my plan. I finally spoke.
"I wish...for ten thousand sterling, to appear in twenty seconds, right here in front of us...in a sealed canvas bag. And it will not have been taken from anyone politically important or close to me." I glanced at Enoch, then pulled the tiny cork out of the bottle and let one drop of the honeyed liquid fall onto my tongue. We both stared at the dusty cobbles in front of us, willing for the faerie tale we'd just been convinced of to come true.
And it did. It did work, as perfectly as it could with the careful design I gave that wish. Though now, I wish it hadn't. I'd gotten my money, and Enoch and I, delighted, raced off back to my musty suite. We taken it from the bridge where it appeared, all ten thousand pounds of it, and we locked it away. At first, I spent none of it. But soon, Enoch, Catherine and I were all dressed as finely as George VI. Then, everything changed. Now with able access to as much drink as he wished, Enoch spewed the tale of Elias Fletcher and the Golden Bottle of Wishes to all who would hear it. This did not turn out well at all for my friends and I...once our secret was out, many would stop at nothing to get their hands on the wishes. Out of concern for the lives of my friends, I had used my second wish to protect them. However, the stress of my situation had been getting to me, and I was unable to word the wish as carefully as I had done with the first. I had wished for their safety, and the wish had decided that as long as my friends were no longer with me, they would be perfectly safe. And so, they were no longer able to come within 5 miles of me, and any and all of my letters never reached them, or so I heard. There was really no way to know.
It drove me insane. As I sit here in my darkened room, all I can think of is Elias's hateful eyes, the way he manipulated Enoch and I. Being separate from my friends, the only ones in my life I cared for, I can only think of one thing to do. My hands shake wildly as I reach into my waistcoat pocket, and draw out the wish bottle, so tiny and innocent, yet it seems to have destroyed my life. I will simply have to un-destroy it, if it is possible. I pull the small cork out, and let it slip through my fingers, to fall soundlessly on the thick carpet. I can reverse this, some part of me wonders if i'm in the right mind to do it correctly. I study the final honeyed drop in the bottle with bleary and blood-shot eyes. I draw in a shaky breath and shudder as I let the cursed liquid fall into my mouth.
"I wish...I wish for t-this to all...all be over. I never wanted...this."
BREAKING NEWS
CASSIUS OWEN - MYSTERIOUSLY WEALTHY RECLUSE FOUND DEAD IN HIS ROOMS WITH AN EMPTY BOTTLE
FOUL PLAY NOT SUSPECTED