The Bound Rules of The Genie's Three Wishes:
A genie cannot terminate the life of any living being.
A genie cannot forcefully influence an individual being to love another.
A genie cannot return life to the lifeless.
A genie can only grant three wishes and cannot be manipulated for more than three.
The Bound Rule of the Final Wish:
Once the genie has granted a mortal's three wishes, the mortal master will lose all memory of the genie.
This rule cannot be changed, unless the mortal master's final wish is used to free the genie.
Genie huffed a sigh as he propped his impressive chin up with his palms, staring blankly at the checkers board he had conjured. The game board balanced perfectly on a stack of round, colorful cushions, also conjured. He simply floated in a sitting position off the floor, his elbows resting on the smoke-like tail that extended from his torso instead of actual legs. He eyed the checker pieces on the board and then his opponent on the other side.
A stereotypical portrait of a well-groomed man, sporting a massive double chin and a greedy smile was propped up on an easel. Genie's mouth slipped into a flat line.
"You couldn't just let me win one game, could you, George?"
The picture of his previous Master remained where it was and without an answer. Genie's expression twitched. "Typical. Always winning everything, weren't you?" He snapped his fingers and the game, portrait and easel vanished in a burst of sparkle and blue-purple sighed and listed off the winnings of his previous Master with his fingertips.
"Lottery tickets, new cars, cruises... Wishing yourself to win everything you play against sure was a clever one. Heh. None of the others ever quite figured that one out."
He regarded the stack of cushions in the middle of the space he called home. The inside of his lamp was a circular, rather small room, the size never able to be changed. An invisible seal kept him contained until someone claimed the lamp and became his new Master. So he entertained himself with decorating and re-decorating his space as the centuries went by. A stack of pillows and bean bags took up one side of the curved area, the walls were covered with large, blown-up photos of post cards from different travel destinations he admired. Two of them had a big, blue check mark from when he'd actually had the luck of getting a Master who lived in those places.
"Come on, goldie," Genie thumped the wall of the lamp. "Let's pick ourselves a new and exciting place next time around, huh? How 'bout New York City?"He swung around and dove atop the cushion pile and with a poof of magic, turned himself into a blue Gorilla.
"The Empire State Building won't know what to do with me!"
Genie swatted a paper airplane from the air before poofing back into Genie form, seated and wearing cow-skin chaps and a cowboy hat. "Or the Great West! Cowboys, horses, cattle rustlers and the Lone Ranger. I still need to get his autograph."
Another snap of fingers and the cowboy attire vanished. A small, navy blue book appeared in Genie's hand and he flipped through the pages, concentrating gleefully on the various signatures that littered the book. Names hand written by only the most interesting and well-known people Genie had ever had the chance to meet during his servitude alongside multiple Masters. He chuckled.
"'Doc Brown. Marty McFly.' Boy were their faces funny … "
The Master during that time had wished to meet the two characters, and Genie obliged him. So there had been a lot of chaos afterwards, but once it happened and was over with, things were set right and the Doc and Marty were back in their crazy time travel story with no memory of meeting a skinny computer nerd or the big blue man with no legs.
No one remembered, really. Not a single person who ever laid eyes on Genie would recall him.
Invisibility, even figuratively, was no fun.
Genie stored his book of signatures and flopped onto his back. George had been the 689'th Master he had served in his lifetime. Genie's memory worked perfectly. He could see them all, the faces, hear the voices, their tales of woe turning to delight and comfort, and power. Usually power.
Always power.
Frowning, Genie extended a four-fingered hand, his gaze traveling to the golden cuff around his thick, blue wrist. An accessory with the sole purpose of reminding him he was chained to an eternity of existing as a slave no one remembered. Whoever made up these rules and stuff could have at least equipped him with something a little more exciting. Like a nifty cape. Nope. Over-sized, flashy handcuffs it was. He would forever be chained to serving mortals their heart's desires, at the cost of other mortals, and sometimes even at the cost of his conscience. George for instance had used his final wish to cause his superior to suffer an injury that would forever leave him disable, giving space for George to step into his shoes. He could have simply wished to take over his boss' position and Genie could have easily, gladly, come up with a way to do so without harming anyone. But his Master wouldn't hear of it. George had wanted to see the other mortal suffer.
Humans would never learn.
And he had the wonderful job of showering them with their powerful dreams and never once being shown so much as a thank you. Or even a hint of meaning something other than a 'Genie.'
He was a Genie, yes. His name was Genie. He did Genie-things. But Genie wasn't just a Genie after all. No one knew or even had the memory to think about it. Not that he didn't like being who he was. He had come to realize a long time ago that being a Genie was an amazing thing. To hold the power to change things, help others, share happiness, was nothing to scoff at. He couldn't have wanted a better ability.
But the ability, while his, simply was never in his right of choice. Out of his 689 Masters, only a small handful had ever used their wishes for noble, joyous purposes. But that meant something, didn't it? Mortals could be good if they chose to.
"Hold on, what's that?" Genie sat up, his train of thought derailing. The walls shimmered and grew bright as if sunlight was being let in. And since the lamp had no windows, it could only mean one thing. Genie flew upright, his face lighting up in a smile.
"We got one! Okay, get ready everybody … " He snapped his fingers and waved his hands, turning to a set of mirrors and various beatification products that appeared. A swarm of Genies identical to himself stared back from the mirrors, some smiling excitedly, some frowning and arching a wary eyebrow.
Genie snatched up a bottle of perfume and began squirting himself with the scent. "Okay team, it's New Master Time. You know what that means."
A mirror Genie grinned and started to dance, jerking his arms and shoulders. "A new start, a new place, and a chance to make a new friend!"
The mirror Genie next door clicked his tongue with a wink and pointed at the other mirror Genie. "And hey, maybe this time we'll get a chance to catch the rest of that Kung-Fu movie with the animals."
They both cheered and reached through the mirrors to hive-five.
A third mirror Genie frowned, clearly unimpressed, and crossed his thick blue arms. "Sure, maybe our Master will even make popcorn and build us a fort in their living room. Come on. It's gonna be the exact same thing." He crossed his eyes and summoned a blank expression. "Your wish is my command. That's it."
The two other mirror Genies cast the third one pouts and one even blew a raspberry. "Take it outside, ya party pooper!"
Genie sucked in a huge breath, expanding his already huge chest, and waved away the mirrors, getting rid of his counterparts.
"Make the most of it," he coached himself with a confident smile. By now he was an expert at staying optimistic. He reminded himself how awesome it actually could be to be a Genie, even if he was about to be exploited for power and gain, like the hundred times before. He would get a glimpse at someone's life for a brief time and maybe find some new signatures for his book.
And any amount of time outside the lamp was good time, in his mind.
Speaking of which, the lamp shuddered as it was rubbed once more, and the invisible seal containing him inside hummed, falling away. Genie grinned and rocketed upward into the spout area in a cluster of smoke and stars.
"Here I coooome!"
With a crack, he burst into open space and immediately corkscrewed right into a ceiling.
Spinning faintly, he groaned out, "YEOW!" and gripped his head. "Who put that there …?"
Blinking open one, then two eyes, Genie took in the new surroundings cautiously, a curious smile on his face. It faltered a little, confusion pulling at his lips as he noted the single bed shoved in the corner, the mess of nick knacks that littered the floor, the sunlight that was muted from a pair of dingy white curtains hanging over the window into the gray little room.
A girl, not even twelve years old, stood below on the floor, gawking at him. She had every right to stare, since his current size took up most of the tiny room. Twin orange-colored braids hung on either side of her head, a mop of orange hair covered her forehead, and brown eyes were round with shock. She had the lanky limbs of a monkey, wore a scuffed up pair of tan shorts, a worn pink tank top, and goggles of all things were nestled securely around her neck.
His lamp was held by the child's two small hands in a death grip.
Genie blinked, his lids audibly making a slight tink, tink sound, and the child's mouth fell open.
It was all he could do not to conjure up his copies to take part in sharing his confusion. At least he would have somebody to ask for advice.
Never had a child become his Master before.
Ten year-old Vicky huffed and ground her teeth together, pedaling harder and willing her bicycle to zoom even faster down the sidewalk. Heat pressed down from the unrelenting sun overhead, the kind that normally made a person pause to admire in annoyed fascination how easy it always was in the summertime to notice the waves of heat rising from the pavement. Going faster created wind, and with her eyes protected behind the lens of a pair of old aviator goggles, Vicky had no problems.
Unless somebody stepped into the sidewalk.
"Coming through!" Vicky hollered at a tall woman walking her greyhound. Dog and human jumped to the side and yipped in surprise. Vicky grinned, tilting her face upward and hooted into the wind.
She soon slowed and turned the bike onto the front lawn of a square little house, a large, old oak tree planted firmly in front of the structure, its enormous branches and millions of leaves sheltering a tree house, which in turn covered a good portion of the second story of the house. Vicky eyed her tree house. The weather report said storms could come with the evening, and she still had things left out from the morning's project – potato batteries for smart phones. Those would need to be put away somewhere dry.
Vicky jumped off the bike and straightened her spine with a grimace at the heaviness that protested from a backpack stuffed full and clinging to her shoulders. The ten year old marched with a smile up the front porch steps and pulled open the door. It creaked noisily and she grimaced. Most likely everyone in the neighborhood heard it. Which meant Vicky's return home would not go unnoticed.
"Vicky Lou Levinson, where have you been?"
Mom's brisk footsteps sounded and she appeared, frowning. Her short red curls were held back by a red bandanna and one hand held a cleaning rag. Mom lifted a slender eyebrow. "What were you doing out there?"
Vicky shrugged and honestly replied, "Looking for stuff at the junkyard."
The junkyard was the best place to find odds and ends that nobody else wanted. Hours could be spent there, fishing out little trinkets and treasures. As Mom's face melted into disapproval, Vicky hurriedly slipped out of her backpack and dug a hand inside.
"Nope, wait, wait! Before you say anything just look at what I found, Mom."
Vicky bit her lip and grunted, pulling up a small box-ish thing. Some wires were stuck to it, and they clung to some squashed pieces of clanking metal. She swatted the mess to the floor and held up her newest prize.
"Look at that! I even got one of the little light thingies to come on. It's perfect for the potato test."
Understanding dawned across Mom's sharp, pale face. "Oh, it's a … a smart phone."
"Yep. And someone just threw it away. I am so lucky today, Mom."
Mom sighed and gingerly rubbed her forehead. "Honey, you know the rules. I don't want you going there all by yourself. It's not the safest place in town."
Vicky insisted, "Yes it is, Mom! No one ever goes there, so I don't have to worry about strangers and robbers and stuff."
"You out there, among piles and towers of metal and crushed machinery?" Mom shook her head, her short, orange-red curls swaying hastily. "No thank you. I won't see my baby squashed and all over the headlines the next day."
Vicky lifted her chin. "I'm not scared of anything."
She could easily name off a list of things she didn't fear like the other girls. They ran away from spiders and cockroaches while Vicky stomped on them. She would gladly explore any dark hole or cave. Roller coasters and heights weren't a problem. Bullies weren't a problem either, just annoying.
"That, sweetie, is exactly what I'm afraid of. There's dangers you're just too young to think about."
Vicky slumped, cradling the unwanted smart phone. So it had been a gamble going to the junkyard today. Punishment was probably going to happen somehow, one way or another –
Mom gently lifted Vicky's slumped head. "You're not using your bike for a week. You know the rules."
"What, Mom, come on! What am I gonna do now?"
The gentleness in Mom's face flickered toward sternness that clearly told her not to argue. Vicky had broken the rules. Mom had spoken. That was all.
Not like Vicky hadn't really seen it coming. She lowered her head and wandered dejectedly up the stairs, dragging her backpack behind her, hopping to maybe cause just the tiniest bit of regret in Mom's decree. Maybe lower the sentence to a couple of days.
Instead, Mom's voice called calmly, "Dinner's going to have to be a box of mac and cheese. I've a headache, so I don't think I'll stay up for movie night this time, honey. Sorry about that."
Whatever defiance Vicky had felt vanished and she paused at the top of the stairs. "It's fine, Mommy. You should get some rest …"
She trailed off and frowned to herself, hauling her backpack into her bedroom. Mom and her headaches. They happened way too much nowadays. There had been a time when Mom's headaches coming between their movie night would have made Vicky sulk and grumble all night long. Things were different now. Because she finally noticed just how much they hurt Mom when they happened. And she had been cleaning when Vicky got home, something Vicky probably should have done instead of breaking the rules and exploring the junkyard all afternoon. She felt just a bit of guilt, but seriously, Mom didn't know how awesome the junkyard was.
Vicky's bedroom was cluttered as usual, the bed unmade, the window open with sunlight filtering past white curtains bathing the room with a muted glow. It actually made the dim color of the aged wallpaper look a little nicer, and it was harder to see the cracks in the ceiling. Vicky moved to the middle of the floor and dumped out her finds from the junkyard. She stood over the pile of scrap and random objects, smiled, and snapped her fingers. "I don't have my bike. Still got my treasure." She shifted her hands through the various objects, clanking and scraping against the wooden floor. A fingernail brushed a polished surface and Vicky caught her breath and grinned.
"I almost forgot about you!"
She pulled up the small, dull, golden teapot. If it was a teapot at all. It was flatter than a regular teapot, curvier and sharper than a teapot. Vicky squinted, her tongue poking out from her mouth as she looked it over, recalling why she had brought it home in the first place. Mom liked tea, and maybe with a little cleaning up she would have herself a nice, little gold ... Gold?
Vicky jerked away the arm holding the teapot and stared. She felt a tiny flicker of hope. What if it was actual gold?
In three seconds the entire house morphed, the cracks and dreary wallpapers washing away, taking the rest of the house's broken down condition with them, and were replaced with shiny, clean surfaces and sleek furnishings. A living room with a video game console and all the latest movies appeared, drawing the other neighborhood kids over to the house. Vicky's face hurt from her grinning, even as the fantasy ended. Surely a teapot made of gold could be worth enough money to fix the house. Maybe that would solve Mom's headaches, too. People said old stuff in old houses like mold or flooring could be unhealthy and cause illnesses, after all.
"I need a tissue or something … "
Vicky dove to her nightstand and grabbed a tissue from a box before wandering back to her pile of stuff, rubbing anxiously at the smudges covering the teapot. A sudden tingling sensation spread through her fingers and the girl froze. Her breath caught in her throat as the teapot jumped around. Afraid the thing would fall and shatter on the floor, Vicky spent a few moments anxiously struggling to hold the jumping teapot as it shook and slipped from her grasp.
"Stay still already!" She finally slammed her hands around it and squeezed. "Gotcha."
Sparks and blue and purple smoke suddenly poured from the spout. It were as if someone had set off a volley of firecrackers in her room. The cloud of color and brightness spun, coiling and filling up as much free space the room had left to offer. A voice was calling something she couldn't make out.
There was a loud thump as something inside the smoke hit the ceiling, and then someone cried out, "YEOW! Who put that there?"
The smoke and sparks died down to reveal a huge, blue humanoid being. His face was large and long, framed by a thin black beard. A tiny black tail of hair stuck out from the top of his mostly bald, blue head. He was blue all over, and a crimson sash tied off where his body should have had legs. Instead there was a long, see-through, dark blue tail of smoke. Vicky's mouth fell open.
The big blue person looked around the room curiously and blinked. His bright eyes crinkled and grinned at her.
"Never had a kid for a Master before."
Author's Note: This story has been brewing in the back of my head for over a year at least. Obviously, it takes place in modern day times by the power of fanfiction. Ha. However, it does make me think of a certain meme/theory floating around about Aladdin taking place in the future, which would explain how Genie makes so many current day references. I hope you guys enjoy this little story. Reviews are appreciated!
