Gold Stars and Wishes
When they heard the door to the bathroom close, Quinn nudged Santana. "Spill. You've had that book in your hands since yesterday. What's up?"
"I know it's just a stupid kid's book," Santana said. She looked down at it and frowned. It was what libraries described as "well loved", i.e. it was held together with duct tape and prayers at this point. "But Rachel told me most books on genies have some sort of basis in fact. Don't tell her—I don't want to get her hopes up—but I think I found a loophole."
"To what?"
"To be able to set her free."
They heard the toilet flush and Santana changed topics.
"Notice how she kept switching from 'we' to 'they' when she was telling Jazz Rachel's story?"
"I think she's doing that for our benefit. So we're not upset. She's distancing her existence from her other ones."
"All right, I'm back!" Rachel said, coming into the room with a cupcake. "So…uh…"
"Nurse Rachel. She's on the front lines, right?"
"Um…she was."
"Was?" Quinn asked.
"She…sort of…died recently."
"DIED?" Santana yelped.
"How recently?" Quinn asked.
"When I was grabbing a cupcake, recently."
"What happened?" Santana asked, looking woozy.
"I should tell her whole story," Rachel said. "It'll be better that way."
"Room four!" the doctor yelled.
Rachel rushed through the crowded hospital. She made it to room four and had to take a moment to center herself.
There were wounded soldiers lying in rows on the floor—the beds had been removed to make more space. These men weren't in life threatening danger, but they were most definitely in pain. She distributed more morphine bottles to her fellow nurses before kneeling next to one of the soldiers.
"Shhh…it's going to be okay," she said, placing a hand on his forehead. She looked down to where the other nurse was dressing his leg wound.
"Go ahead and give him a shot," the older nurse said.
They paused for a moment, listening to the bombs in the distance.
"My name is Rachel," she told him softly. "What's yours?"
"J-jimmy, ma'am. Jimmy Thompson."
"Okay, Jimmy. I'm going to give you a shot for the pain. Is that okay?"
He nodded, and turned his head as she pulled out the Syrette.
"Where are you from, Jimmy?" she asked, giving him the morphine dose.
"Oklahoma, ma'am. Small town. Got a brother and two little sisters back home."
"We better get you up and kicking again, then, so you can go see them," she said, smiling.
He smiled back.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Santana muttered. "This sounds like the beginning of a damn Nickolas Sparks novel."
"Oh, just wait," Rachel said.
Jimmy was sitting up when she came in the next day. She handed him his lunch tray and sat next to him to check his injury.
"Most girls I know would faint if they got a look of my busted leg," he said.
"I grew up with five older brothers," she said, smiling. "I'm accustomed to seeing wounds."
He chuckled at this, but then sobered as they heard screams from another room. "Do you know? Do you know who that is? It kept happening last night too."
"Jimmy…."
"Please, Miss Rachel."
She sighed. "Lieutenant Cranes."
Jimmy looked down at his lap, nodding slightly. "Do you think he'll make it?"
"I don't know."
He looked back up at her. "Thank you for telling me the truth."
"He was a nice boy, but I could…I could tell he was slipping away. We got shipped back to Hawaii, and I stayed with him through his physical training. He got really depressed…."
"Well done, Jimmy!" Rachel said, helping him into his wheelchair. "You've been doing so much better."
"Don't know why it matters," he grumbled. "I'll never walk right again."
"You will. You have to keep trying."
He sighed, and idly played with his dog tags. "I don't get it sometimes…. I don't know what we're fighting for anymore."
She knelt in front of him. "Look at me. What do you see when you see me?"
"An amazing woman who saved my life. My angel…or genie, I suppose," he said, smiling slightly.
"There are people in this world who don't even see me, and my family, as worthy of respect, dignity, or life. That's what you're fighting for. You're fighting for me, people like me, and everyone the Nazis say are 'subhuman'. You're a hero to me and everyone in our country. I know this is hard, but it's real. And you got this," she said, nodding to his leg, "fighting for what's right."
He stared out of the window for a bit. "I wish for a Coke."
She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she handed him the soda and stood. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Hi girls!" Judy called.
The three of them jumped.
"Hi!" they called.
"What have you girls been up to?" Judy asked, coming into the living room. "Besides eating copious amounts of cupcakes."
"Movies, horror stories, and we even indulged in a brief, yet epic, pillow fight," Rachel said, coming to their rescue. "It was highly satisfying. How was your convention?"
Judy smiled. "Good, but long. And someone had on way too much perfume. Anyway, I'm going to get showered and take a quick nap."
Once she was back upstairs, Rachel began her story again.
Jimmy limped toward her, leaning heavily on his cane.
She smiled brightly. "Looking good! And—"
"I wish for the pain to go away," he said, wincing.
She sighed, but granted it. "You should rest."
"I've had enough resting," he snapped. "I want to get back out there. I should be fighting, not taking a vacation."
"This is hardly a vacation, and you know they won't let you back out," she said softly.
He stared at her with a blank expression, and then hobbled over to the window without another word.
Rachel was about to leave when another nurse rushed in.
"We need you on floor three," she said. "Emergencies."
"What happened?"
"Not sure, but it's looking bad." The nurse lowered her voice. "More of the 33rd boys."
Jimmy's head whipped around. "That's my infantry!"
Rachel glared at her. "I'll be back later, Jimmy."
"Wait!" he said, hobbling over to her. He took her gently by the shoulders. "I wish for all of them to live. Do you hear me? None of them can—"
"Jimmy," Rachel said desperately. "You know that's not how it works."
"I'm wishing it. You have to grant it. I'm your owner."
"Jimmy—"
"Make sure they don't die," he said, letting go of her.
"Let me guess…." Quinn said sadly.
Rachel nodded. "He'd come up while we were working, took a gun off one of the guards. Started shooting everything in sight when his best friend died. Shot Nurse Rachel twice."
Santana pulled Rachel closer.
"Santana?" Rachel said quietly. "I know you, and maybe Quinn, have a plan. And I know it has something to do with this book." She tapped The Ballad of Taraji. "I trust you," she said simply.
Santana hugged her tighter, and Quinn joined in as well.
