My Wishful Thinking (16 page)

We cut through the line at the Genie’s Magic Carpet Ride. A two-story statue of a genie marks the entrance. He’s blue and barrel-chested, wearing a turban and baggy pants. Ridiculous. The closest Eugene ever looked to this theme park version was the day he wore mom’s sweat pants.

Monnique continues to lead the way. I might be turned around, but it feels like we’re getting farther and farther from the parking lot and our escape. Finally, we reach the back of the park, which runs along side Neptune’s. The last ride is the Tunnel of Love. The entrance is flanked by two magical Cupids at least a story high, instead of the tiny cherubs we’ve all been taught to imagine. We’re at a dead-end, no way to turn around.

“C’mon,” Eugene yells and I follow him into the first gondola. Trudy and Monnique get into the one behind us, and I think the Cupid employee working the ride about crapped her pants. They make a strange couple, with Trudy in her camo and Monnique in glitter. The last gondola back is Em and my girl, Betsy.

The ride is unnervingly slow as the boat bumps along in shallow water.
Go. Go. Faster, faster
. It’s a wish that goes ungranted and I’m worried that Richard could catch us. Eugene’s eyes dart in confusion. “I need to get us out of here.” I grip his hand tightly and try to remember the sequence of this ride.
Is there a place where we can escape?
It’s been so long since I rode it.

At least Betsy is pulling up the rear. There’s comfort in that. If Richard has followed us here, she’s got the best weapon, and I’d expect a good fight out of her.

We glide through some of the most romantic love scenes of all time. Magical stories, like “Sleeping Beauty” or “Snow White.” There’s violin music accompanying some old time crooner singing in the background. I’m sure if I kissed Eugene we wouldn’t be the first couple to do a little smooching on the boat.

But that is so not happening right now.

Eugene is tense and watching the gondolas behind us while I look for an escape. The ride is made up of all these teeny rooms so most of the time Eugene and I are the only gondola occupying the space. It’s only when we turn a corner to head into a new display that we actually catch a glimpse of Trudy and Monnique. Usually when I see them they are looking back, at Betsy and Em, I guess. If I could see them, what would they be watching? Richard?

The ride brings us into a cavernous room‌—‌the ball from “Cinderella.” While Prince Charming dances with ole Cindy, the gondolas line up to watch animatronic lords and ladies waltzing around. The best thing about the huge hall is that it holds more than one boat, so I’ll be able to see the others.

The worst thing is they’ll be able to see us.

Trudy comments on one of the animatronic guys, “Oooh, he’s kinda hot!” and even though the expression never change on the Duke’s face, I would have sworn one of them was checking out Monnique’s glittery gown.

So, when I finally see Em, who is at least human and completely understands what’s at stake, she yells, “He’s back there, Lo. Three boats back. You need to run.”

Eugene sets his jaw and grabs my hand. “We’re getting out of here.” He pulls me to standing ‌—‌which is strictly prohibited by the rules‌—‌and we leap out onto the ballroom floor. As fast as we can, we weave our way through the dummies, while my brought-to-life-mannequin posse has our backs. On the other side of the ballroom there’s a ledge about a foot wide that we walk along, careful not to fall into the water sloshing below us with its own mechanical current that pulls the boats along.

Up ahead I see a red exit sign. I point to it for Eugene, and that’s when I hear Richard.

“Eugene, get back here right now.” He’s waving the money Em laid on the table. “You, girl, he’s my genie and always will be.”

Not if I have anything to say about it.

Crack!
Betsy judo chops the crap out of Richard with her left hand. God, I love that girl. Why did I ever think she was haughty? She raises her leg for a kick to his manly bits then lifts the racquet in her right, but the magician reaches out and catches her ankle, flipping her into the water.

“Betsy, no!” I start back for her, but Eugene grabs me around the waist and hurries me to the exit.

We push on the heavy metal bar and escape into the night. It’s breezy outside and eerily bright. The full moon is close, low and oversized.

Eugene and I run for the concrete wall that separates Mysterical Nights from Neptune’s. He gives me a boost that helps me to claw my way over, then transforms into his hunky version, so there’s no problem for him to scale it by himself.

We land amongst a farm of pumps and pipes. Huge things. Right now, they’re silent since the park is closed. Creeping through them is like a scene from some horror movie. I keep expecting someone to jump out from behind one. Or for one of the long, twisting pipes to turn into a python or something.

Wordlessly, we tiptoe, while it seems like the machinery behind this park stretches on forever. Finally we reach a short wooden fence. It’s bolted by an arm that makes it look like an old-school fort. We lift the bar and push open a creaky door.

CHAPTER 39

WE STEP INTO THE PARK AT THE EXIT FOR THE TSUNAMI.

Eugene shivers as we tiptoe by it. I take his hand. It’s like we’re on autopilot, as we take off toward the exit. There’s no hesitation, never a point when we want to take different paths. We run until I get a stitch in my side, and then slow to a fast walk.

“Do you want to stop?” Eugene asks.

I shake my head.

Finally we come to the beach chairs where we spent the Fourth. This was where he kissed me last night. Without letting go, Eugene stops. “Just for a minute.” I ease into the chair, leaning back against him and look up at his face.

“Do you think they’ll hold off Richard?” I whisper.

“He won’t give up. He’ll keep coming.”

While I know he’s right, there’s a part of me that refuses to accept this. Or I just can’t imagine what my life will be like if he’s not in it. I try to be like Em. Hopeful. “I don’t know about that. It seemed like Betsy was doing a pretty good job with the judo. If she got him good in the‌—‌”

“His hate is powerful.”

“Our emotion is strong too.” I kiss him on the chin. Silently, I wish for Richard to disappear. If I can’t have that, then I will wish for him to leave Eugene alone.

Eugene strokes my face. The moonlight reflects off his eyes, which look darker than normal and incredibly sad.

“He’ll keep aging. If we can just avoid him long enough, he’ll die.” As soon as those words are out of my mouth, I want to take them back. They’re wicked, and not in a good way.

“I can’t go back to him.”

“I know you can’t. I won’t let you.”

“I can’t let him hurt you either.”

Suddenly, there’s a noise in the distance. Yelling, thumps and bumps.

That’s not good. Not good at all.

Eugene gets up from the chair and jogs away. I follow him. We pass the concession stand as the noises grow louder.

I hear Em’s voice in the distance. “Lo, get out of here.”

I catch Eugene’s eyes with mine and hold his gaze. “Run away with me?”

Eugene shakes his head and calmly takes the path that runs along the Lazy River ride. Through planters with flowers, the water slowly burbles by us. Someone forgot to shut off this ride. We pass a stack of inner tubes and a rack of life jackets. Where is he going? If Richard is with them, and he won’t run away, then we need to turn and fight.

Eugene takes a red jacket and straps himself into it. The jacket is still damp and the skin of his chest steams in little puffs. What is he doing? “If I do this, it will end it.”

Do what? I don’t understand. He picks up the pace until we come to one of the ramps for entering the ride. The noises behind us are closer. Very close.

Everyone stumbles into the clearing. Monnique’s sequined gown is torn. Trudy gasps to catch her breath. Betsy’s lip is bleeding. Em’s eyes grow wide. There’s no sign of Richard. He’s disappeared. Finally a wish come true.

I’m so proud of them. They must have kicked his butt. We’ve won. I walk over and hug Em. “I’m so sorry we fought. So sorry I didn’t trust you.”

“We can talk about it later.”

It’s like Em slapped me in the face.
Why later?

“We need to get Eugene out of here. Now.”

Oh God, It’s not over
.
Leave him alone!

“There’s enough time for one more wish,” Eugene says.

Huh?
Two of the people I care most about in the world are speaking another language that they understand perfectly, but I have no idea what they’re talking about
.

“Okay,” Em says. “Lo, I think we should wish for your mom to stop drinking. I know there are other problems, but I’ve been thinking if Eugene grants that, maybe everything else will fall into place.”

That’s pretty hard to swallow.

“Can I offer advice?” my genie asks.

I nod.

“Even if it fixes nothing for you, it fixes something for her. It is a worthy wish.”

And unselfish. And worlds better than what I did with Sasha. Even if I am still mad at my mom.

Em and I make the wish. Eugene’s magic leaves his hand and rockets into the sky like the Aurora Borealis arching west toward my home. Jinx.

Eugene smiles. Then his eyes open wide and he grips my forearm.

A shimmer descends on the area, and three figures appear in the clearing. Richard, the fortune-telling crone and an incredibly beautiful girl about our age.

What the eff?

“Hi, Vash.”

Vash?

“Nelie,” Eugene says. There’s no warmth in his voice.

Wait! Eugene’s name is Vash? And he knows this girl?

The beautiful girl, Nelie, points at the old crone. “She’s making me do her bidding. You know this isn’t what I want.”

Eugene nods.

“I miss you,” she says, and there is real sadness in her voice.

My throat clenches. Eugene, I mean Vash‌—‌that’s his real name that I never even knew‌—‌has some history with this girl. Why did I think I was the only one? It’s like everything my mother told me about men was true. My eyes sting. Maybe I’ll cry later but there’s no way I’ll do it in front of the magician and Nelie. And Vash.

“Assist him,” the crone commands.

Richard holds his arms in front of him, empty palms cupped, and a small flame appears, hovering above his hands. From the flame a knife appears‌—‌
the knife
‌—‌the one from the trick with Emily. The flame vanishes, and the knife drops solidly into his open hands.

“He’s ours,” Em said. “You abandoned him and turned him over and sold him. We paid you for him. There’s no room for misunderstanding.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Nelie says to her master.

“It matters not. You’re mine and you’ll do as I wish.”

Nelie grits her teeth. “I hate you.”

The fortune teller laughs, and Richard joins her. “Ah, but you forgot about inheritance, and with the help of my friend’s genie, I’ll kill you and then he can be mine again.”

I look at Eugene. His jaw is set and he steps toward the river.

“You won’t do it.” Richard laughs and points at the life jacket. “You lack the will power. I command you to take off that jacket and get over here. Now”

Finally, it dawns on me why Eugene has put on the jacket. I’m such an idiot.

“No, you can’t do that. We’ll wish to save you.” It hurts so much to think that he could go back to Richard and end up with Nelie. I wish he was just a regular guy.

More wishful thinking.

A tear slips from my eye. Eugene reaches out and wipes it away. A puff of steam emanates from his finger tip. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Eugene steps into the Lazy River and lays on his back to float on the current. Steam rises, and we’re enveloped in a cloud. Between the fog and the blur from my tears I can’t see him.

A huge wave begins to form, like all the water from the ride has been sucked into one huge wall. How is it rising like that? Is Eugene doing that? Or Nelie?

It hangs, suspended in the air, and then crashes onto Eugene, sloshing over the top of the ride and flooding the pavement at my feet. The current of the river returns to normal and Eugene’s limp body floats along, buoyed by the jacket. The fog has cleared and all the steam has gone. His body bumps the wall at a bend and passes under the waterfall.

My tears are a waterfall. I can’t see an effing thing.

CHAPTER 40

THE SMELL OF HOMEMADE BANANA BREAD emanates from the oven. The timer shows three minutes remain until it can come out. When the buzzer goes off, I open the door of the oven, while Wishbone figure-eights around my ankle, purring.

I cut a slab for Em and one for my mom and sprinkle both pieces with powdered sugar. It used to be hard to believe that something so good could come from something totally rotten. Not anymore. I know there’s unexpected sweetness to life, even after dark moments. Especially then.

Mom smiles at me. Her eyes and skin are clear. The house is clean and sunny. The litter box is fresh. This might not seem like much and they certainly aren’t firsts, but it’s been a long time since I could be grateful for these small things.

There are some firsts today, though.

It’s the first time I’ve made banana bread on my own, using Aunt Marcia’s recipe.

It’s the morning after Em’s first sleepover. I’ve slept at her house more times than I can count.

It’s the first time a guy is coming to my house to pick me up and meet my mother.

“So, explain to me again: what are you doing today? Who is going and when will you be home?”

This is another first, my mom being involved enough, present enough to ask a thousand questions. It’s probably the only downside of my wish being granted. And actually, if I’m completely honest, it’s not really a downside. I mean, she cares, right?

“I told you, Mom. There’s a small group of us going to grab a bite to eat and then‌—‌I don’t know‌—‌somewhere else. We’ll decide where when they get here, okay?”