Ever since first grade, Huey had kept a wishing jar. It was a clear jar labeled "Wishes" that he kept on his desk next to a small stack of strips of colored paper. Whenever he had a wish, he wrote it down on a strip, fold it into a little star, and put it in the jar. Those wishes could be anything from the practical, like doing well on a test or that Uncle Donald gets another job (God, there were so many of those), or the fantastic, like a trip to Mars or candy bars raining from the sky (although sometimes he'd rather it rain something more practical, like dinner). Huey wasn't even sure what that was supposed to accomplish, but somehow, it made him feel better.
He never said anything when an unusually messily folded star made its way to the top of the jar. Dewey and Louie needed their wishes, too, and Huey was more than willing to share his jar with them. Besides, he knew that their wishes must be strong if they went to the trouble of adding them to his jar.
Huey hadn't thought about his wishing jar in a while, ever since they'd moved in with Uncle Scrooge, but now, Huey went into the houseboat to retrieve it. Somehow, his wishes had survived the fire that had sent them to live with Uncle Scrooge in the first place (thanks, Dewey), although the blank strips of paper were gone. Huey returned to the house and cut a strip off a piece of printer paper.
'I wish Uncle Donald were ok,' he wrote. His fingers fumbled clumsily as they tried to fold the strip into a star. Tears prickled behind his eyes. This time, writing his wish down had made things feel more real. It had made everything worse.
Huey took a deep breath to compose himself as he dropped the star into the jar. The bright white of the printer paper stood out against the soft pastels of the other wishes. He stared at it a while, his beak set into a hard line as he tried so hard not to think about what he'd wished for.
"Uncle Donald's awake!" he heard Dewey yell from the top of the stairs, breaking him out of his one-sided staring contest.
Huey took a few deep breaths and swallowed twice before he spoke, trying to make his words sound flippant and casual. "Like for-real awake or messed-up awake?" Most of the time, when Uncle Donald was awake, he didn't make any sense. He kept talking to people who weren't there, he thought that Huey was some guy named Panchito and then another guy named Mickey, then he thought they were all pirates and that he was under attack. The worst was when he thought Webby was his sister. Huey wasn't even sure what had happened after that-the next thing he knew, he was in the middle of the gardens fighting off a panic attack. Uncle Scrooge said that Uncle Donald was in "another time, another place," but Huey wanted him to be here and now.
"For-real awake!" Dewey called down.
Huey bit his bottom beak. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yeah, and he wants to know where you are."
Huey stood up and slowly made his way upstairs. He loved his Uncle Donald, and he wanted to see him, but Huey wasn't sure he could take being mistaken for someone else again.
As Huey neared Uncle Donald's room, he could hear soft murmuring and a few sniffles coming from inside. Huey took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Uncle Donald looked absolutely ragged, more exhausted than Huey had ever seen him. Usually, Uncle Donald's exhaustion was weighed down by stress, but now he just looked...tired. His brothers were on the bed, too, Louie tucked under his arm and Dewey with his head on his other shoulder.
"Huey," Uncle Donald said, his voice soft and raspy. Well, raspier than usual-that is, if you could call whatever his voice normally was "raspy." The corners of his bill were turned up in the barest of smiles. He patted the bed in front of Dewey.
Huey cautiously joined his family on the bed. Uncle Donald gave a contented sigh. Was Dewey sure Uncle Donald was for-real awake and not messed-up awake? Huey hadn't seen his uncle so happy and stress-free in a long time.
"I'm sorry I gave you boys such a scare," Uncle Donald said.
"S'okay," Huey said.
"We're just glad you're ok," Dewey said.
"Yeah," Louie said, snuggling even closer to their uncle, if that was even possible. You knew things were bad when Louie started being affectionate.
Uncle Donald's eyes drooped and he stifled a yawn. "Well, everything's all right now," he said, closing his eyes, Suddenly, that sounded like a very good idea. He saw Louie's eyes slip shut, and by the way Dewey shifted, Huey knew his were doing the same. Huey closed his own eyes, realizing that, for the first time in days, his anxiety had faded and he, too, was content Maybe Huey's wish had worked after all.