I study my reflection a little longer…it is perfect! I am a photoshopped version of myself, only a real 3D version. The only flaw is the glasses. If only I could get rid of those as well…Wait a moment, could I?
“Genie?”
“How can I assist you, milady?”
“When I wished to be able to change my body, does that mean I could cure a medical imperfection?”
“If it requires a physical change, I don’t see why not.”
“Uhuh! So how do I do it?”
“First, what is it you need to do?”
“I need to fix my mole-like vision.”
“Do you know what kind of intervention that would require?”
“Not exactly.”
“I would suggest reading some sort of medical writing on the subject before attempting anything. Do you possess any such thing?”
“No.”
“We should probably wait until tomorrow then, go to the local hospital, and see if they have a medical library we can access.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say ironically, opening my laptop and turning it on. Once again, I don’t have time to explain modern technology to him.
I go on the Google homepage and type myopia.
I click on the first result, scroll down the page, and read:
Myopia, or nearsightedness, is a defect of the eye that causes a difficulty in focusing on faraway objects…blah, blah, blah…
“That would work too,” the genie comments from behind me. “Interesting instrument. How does it work?”
“Later.” I don’t want to be rude to him, but again, I am busy. No time for an A.I. class, plus I’ve just found the good stuff.
I keep on reading.
“It worked,” I exclaim enthusiastically an hour later, admiring my perfectly in-focus reflection with no glasses on. “Hey, Genie—” I turn around to attract his attention. “Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?” I tease.
Now that I have fixed my image, I want to play around a little bit.
“Both have their merits,” he replies noncommittally.
“Come on, be a sport! Blondes or brunettes, this is the question.”
“As I said, both have their fascinations.” He’s finally relaxing, losing some of his uptightness. “Nonetheless, I’ve always found dark colorings more endearing.”
“Hum, let me see.” I mull my options with my arms crossed in front of me and my index finger pressed on my lips. “You mean something like this?”
SWISH.
I turn into a Penelope Cruz-y version of myself. I have long dark ebony hair, a slightly tanned skin tone, and almost black eyes.
“You…that…ahem…” he stutters, stupefied.
“Has the cat got your tongue?”
“I simply was not expecting something the like of your transformation. It caught me absolutely unprepared,” he says, regaining his austere composure.
“If you say so,” I retort skeptically. “What about redheads?”
SWISH.
I give myself flaming copper-red hair, fair skin, and bright aquamarine eyes.
“Do you like freckles?”
SWISH.
I add some cute little freckles to my nose and cheeks.
“I am afraid I do not dote on red hair,” he says, in a strange tone I can’t quite place.
A shadow of gloom passes over his face—very fast, almost imperceptible. He hides it immediately, as if he was used to keeping his emotions from showing on his face. He didn’t want me to notice.
I suspect there is more about redheads to be investigated. But I’m sure there’d be no point in asking openly, as he doesn’t seem eager to answer questions on the subject…or any subject, for that matter. I am sure that if I did ask, he would just tell me I have a fervent imagination. My only option is to store all my questions for later, be patient, and wait until the fruit is ripe to collect it.
“What about blondes?”
SWISH.
I now have deep blue eyes and shining golden hair arranged in soft waves that reach down to my waist.
“Suits you perfectly, milady,” he says, still a bit ruffled.
I ignore his attitude and go on to try every possible physical combination I can think of. I have a go at being taller, shorter, with more curves, less curves, or no curves at all. I try every hair color, style, and length imaginable. From long, straight, cotton-candy-pink hair, to a full afro head. I am so excited that I think my squealing has reached an only-dog-hearing point. I might have done a victory dance as well along the way.
When I run out of options to change myself, I transform into a bunch of celebrities just for fun. At one point I even turn into Mystique herself, with yellow eyes, orange flaming hair, and blue-scaled skin. It scares the genie so much that he almost falls from his chair. He did sit down after about an hour of my shape-shifting game.
“I am glad to be the source of your amusement,” he says with a bit of contempt after my little prank.
“Oh, come on. You’ve been stuck in a box by yourself for two hundred years. You could use a bit of fun, no?”
“You are quite in the right.” A small smile finally surfaces on his lips. “But could you please oblige me nonetheless and transmute back into a more human appearance? I feel I’ve had enough fun for today.”
“I guess blue skin is not your cup of tea after all.”
SWISH.
I am myself again. Well, my greatly improved-self. I am going to keep this look for the next whatever years…no wrinkles for me. I will have to age myself a bit eventually, but not until I am fifty or something. I could always say it is a family trait to age well. Most people will think I have a very good plastic surgeon and don’t want to admit it, but who cares?
Sugar chooses this moment to reappear from his hiding place. He sniffs the genie suspiciously and then jumps on the bed, tilting his head sideways and uttering a single meow.
“What? You’re in for a makeover as well?” I ask, scratching him behind the ears.
“Meow.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s see how a pedigree suits you.”
I turn him into a couple of different breeds. He seems to enjoy being a Maine Coon the most, but when he starts chasing his tail around because he doesn’t recognize it, I turn him back into his usual shape and pick him up for some cuddling.
“What time is it?” I ask, more to myself than to the genie. “Crap, it’s almost one in the morning! Time flies. I just have time for the second wish before we go to bed.”
“What?” the genie shouts, aghast.
“What, what?”
“In hundreds of years, this is the first time one of my charges is so flippant with her wishes. These are unique gifts bestowed on you by a higher power. It was outrageous enough for you to express a wish within five minutes of having discovered your good fortune, but to use two in a matter of hours…it is unthinkable.”
“Is there a rule about not expressing more than one wish in a day?”
“No, there is no specific rule, but—”
“No buts, stop right there.” I raise my hand, palm forward, to silence him. “If there is no particular rule on the topic, I would like to express my second wish now so that we can have an early start tomorrow. Monday is only one day away. I don’t have a clear plan yet, and I don’t want to lose any precious time tomorrow.”
“What sort of plan are you in need of?”
“Never you mind. Do I have to go as before? I state the wish, and after say abracadabra?”
“Avra Kehdabra.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. So?”
“Technically yes, but I beg you, milady, to reconsider your decision. Once the wishes are spent, they are forever lost, and there is no turning around.”
“Do you see me regretting my first wish?”
“No, but it has only been a couple of hours. Maybe in the future there will come a time when you will regret your choices of today.”
“Or maybe I simply know what I want. Or maybe you’re scared I will use up all my wishes in one week, and you will have to go back to your box right away.”
“This is the most infamous, most outrageous accusation.” His face becomes all red and puffy with an expression of pure indignation, which is so sincere that I feel sorry for him. “Never in all my years of service have I been slandered to such a level of ignominy. I, who was only trying to advise you, who was looking out for your best interests, who—”
“Okay, okay, you are the purest of heart. Genie, let me tell you, you’re a bit too sensitive.”
“You were accusing me of ignoble behavior. I will not stand indifferent when my reputation is being besmirched in such a vile way. Upon my honor…”
I am trying to keep a straight face while his pompous monologue keeps going and going about honesty, morality, and decency… This genie is really a piece of work. I have to concentrate hard not to burst out laughing, which I know would only get me a longer sermon.
When he’s finally done, I try to smooth his feathers a little by professing my total, untainted faith in his integrity, and then ask, “Can we proceed with my wish now?”
“If you are absolutely certain.”
“I am.”
“Could you at least tell me beforehand what the desire is?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Yes, it would help me in advising you better.”
“All right, I need a financial boost.”
“I see. First beauty, and now wealth.”
“And what is it exactly you see?” I ask, irritated. “Are you getting all judgmental on me?”
“No. I understand that attractiveness and prosperity could prove to be two very precious weapons for a woman with a purpose. May I ask what would yours be?”
“Hmm…no, not yet, not until I have a clear idea myself.”
“Very well. You know what to do, then.”
“Okay. Here I go.”
I take a deep breath.
“I wish to always have all the money I need and much more, anywhere, at any time, forever. Avra Kehdabra.”
CLINK.
The noise of the little metallic wheel turning comes from the other room, the faint sound clearly audible in the quietness of the night.
“I know you don’t sleep, but I have to. I want to get up early tomorrow.” I sigh; it’ll be the second time this weekend. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll show you how the shower works and then go to bed.”
“So very kind of you, milady.”
We move to the bathroom, which is an en-suite that also has a second door leading to the hallway. I know, it’s weird, but it’s useful. This way the genie will be able to exit without waking me up or come into my bedroom while I sleep.
“So.” I show him the wonders of modern plumbing. “You turn the tap to open the water. The more you turn to the left, the warmer it comes.”
He plays with it, fascinated. “This is brilliant!” he comments, amazed.
“Have fun with it,” I say, opening my cabinets to find some fresh towels. “You can use these to dry yourself when you’re done.”
“Milady, you are most kind.”
“Hush, it’s nothing. So, are you sure you’ll be fine sleeping on the couch or wherever?”
“It is my first night in the world after a long absence—I will try not to waste it in sleep. However, be reassured that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Ok, you can borrow one of my books if you get bored,” I say, exiting the bathroom. I consider telling him he could watch TV, but think twice about it, as it would trigger too many questions I am too tired to answer. “Good night, Genie.”
“Thank you, milady. I wish you a good night.”
I leave him playing with the sink faucet and stroll back to my room, where I immediately sag on the bed like a potato sack without even brushing my teeth.
I curl up in a ball under the soft duvet and Sugar, who was already fast asleep on the bed, slightly adjusts his position to mine, purring. I am exhausted but somewhat heartened. I close my eyes, lulled by the soothing sounds of the running shower and purring cat, feeling hopeful about the future for the first time in over a year.