Chapter 22

I couldn’t help it. I wished for a mattress. Have you ever ridden in an empty boxcar for fifteen hours straight? Let me say—not comfy. In exchange for the luxurious mattress to sleep on, my left shoelace would come untied anytime someone clapped their hands. But it would only last the rest of the week, so it was totally worth it.

I awoke around dawn, suddenly remembering where I was. I leaped from my cozy mattress, my shifting weight causing Ridge to roll off the other side and land with a thump on the floor.

I blinked a few times, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the lighting. Ridge was pulling himself up off the floor. Tina was sitting in the corner, and Vale was standing beside her.

Jathon Anderthon was gone.

“Where is he?” I shouted, crossing the boxcar to face Tina.

She remained seated, her face turned upward to the jagged hole in the roof, a bit of early morning light illuminating her flat expression.

“I let him go,” she said.

“You did what?” Ridge and I shouted together.

“I gave him back his genie jar and let him go,” Tina said, finally rising to her feet. “You’re not the only one with a quest, Ace.”

“So you thought you could save Jathon’s life by letting him go?” I asked. “He’s not even the right person!”

“But his dad is,” said Tina. “And Thackary has a better chance of surviving with his Wishmaker son. I can’t let him die out there.”

“And I can’t let him succeed!” I shouted. We all had our quests. And it seemed none of us could succeed without the other two destroying the world. “So now what? You’re on Thackary’s side?”

“Maybe I should be,” she answered.

Tina and I glared at each other, and I was thinking about having that epic shark-versus-wolf throwdown to prove my point.

Ridge stepped up, patting me on the shoulder. “On a positive note,” the genie said, “your left arm grew back!”

I looked down at my newly regrown appendage. That was good news. In the adrenaline of waking up to find Jathon escaped, I hadn’t even noticed that I was whole again.

“Are you trying to destroy the world?” I shouted, grateful I had two arms to gesture at Tina.

“I’m trying to save it!” she yelled back. “I’m trying to do what the Universe told me. I thought you’d understand!”

“How are we supposed to be a team if you do things behind my back?”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to be a team, Ace,” said Tina. “Maybe I should have left with Jathon.”

“Maybe it’s not too late,” I spat.

We stared at each other for a long, awkward moment. Then Tina moved abruptly. Vale boosted her and she leaped up, catching the edge of the hole in the roof and climbing out of the railway car.

“Come on, Tina,” I said. “You know I didn’t mean it.”

On the roof, Tina produced her genie jar and ordered Vale into it, only to remove her a second later so they were both successfully on top of the car.

“You’re really leaving us?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“You helped me realize something,” Tina answered. “I can’t save Thackary’s life if I’m not with him.”

I felt the sting of betrayal. “Tina!” I shouted, but the girl and her genie were gone.

I stood in rigid disbelief. I couldn’t believe Tina would just leave us like that.

“I can’t believe Tina would just leave us like that,” Ridge said, falling onto the mattress like he was ready to give up entirely.

“It’s all right,” I said, though my insides were starting to panic at the thought of being on our own. “We’ll get along fine without those two.”

And we did. But it wasn’t easy.

It took Ridge and me almost an hour just to get out of the boxcar. I was too stubborn to make a wish after I had watched Tina escape with such ease.

First, Ridge boosted me up and I tried to pull him out. When that didn’t work, I boosted him up and he tried to pull me out. Neither was strong enough to lift the other, so I had him transform into a shark and dangle his tail through the hole for me to grab on to. Problem was, once he became a shark, I had to lie on my stomach on the floor of the boxcar, so I couldn’t even come close to reaching his tail.

Then we finally realized that the boxcar had a door.

By the time we figured out how to unlatch the door, the train was conveniently slowing down as it passed through a town.

Ridge and I jumped off at the same time, tumbling side by side so we wouldn’t snap our tether. The landing was much more painful than we thought it would be and both of us sat on the ground, rubbing our bruised elbows and knees for about a half hour.

We wandered down a small street and saw a woman on the sidewalk. Since I had no idea where we were or which direction we needed to go, I decided to talk to the stranger.

“Hello,” I said, stopping in her path. As soon as I said the word, I felt my rolled-up sleeves grow an inch longer. My baggy sleeves and discolored eye, together with my backward pants, made me wonder if the woman was nervous to be stopped by me. I decided to put her at ease by asking a very basic question. “Can you tell me what state we are in?”

The woman looked at us like we were crazy, but the sincere looks on our faces must have persuaded her to answer. “California.”

Ridge and I gave a quick high five to celebrate the fact that the train had taken us so far in the right direction. At the sound of our hands clapping, my left shoelace came untied.

“And could you point us the way to Super-Fun-Happy Place?” Ridge asked. “We need to eat some green cotton candy.”

The woman gave us some useful directions to a bus station where we could catch a ride to the amusement park. By the time we arrived there, the bus we needed was ten minutes from departing.

“Can you think of any way to get on that bus without wishing?” I asked, dreading the thought of another consequence.

Ridge glanced left and right. “Sneak on,” he whispered, tiptoeing backward toward the bus. In the process, he bumped into a metal garbage can and sent it clattering to the concrete. In trying to recover, he staggered sideways, knocking over a display rack of newspapers.

“You are the least sneaky person in the world,” I said, realizing that the only way to get on that vehicle was to wish it. But I was going to be smart about it. The more indirect my wish, the gentler the consequence would be.

Ridge was picking up the newspapers when I noticed a middle-aged couple, clearly bound for Super-Fun-Happy Place with their fanny packs and visors, taking a selfie in front of the bus. I grinned, turning so Ridge would be sure to hear me clearly.

“I wish that couple thought we were their kids,” I said. To avoid a misinterpretation from the Universe, I pointed to the couple beside the bus.

“Good plan,” Ridge said, as my hourglass watch extended. “If you want them to think we are their sons, then you’ll have to wear a helmet for the next twenty-four hours.”

“What kind of helmet?” I asked.

“A medieval knight’s helmet.”

“Seriously? Cool!” I was going to look fearsome! This was the easiest consequence so far. “Bazang,” I said without hesitation.

No sooner had my watch closed than I felt the power of the Universe slipping a knight’s helmet into place, causing my neck to wobble suddenly.

“Whoa!” I shouted, my voice echoing within the metal mask. “This thing is superheavy!”

“Eight pounds,” Ridge answered. “That’s like wearing a gallon of milk on your head.”

“How do you know how heavy the helmet is?” I asked. He hadn’t even touched it.

“The Universe told me when you wished for it,” he answered.

“Why didn’t you mention it?” I said. “I can barely keep my head up!”

“You didn’t ask,” Ridge said. “You usually ask a bunch of questions to clarify the consequence, but you just accepted this one right away.”

“That’s because I thought it would look cool,” I said, grunting. “I can’t see a thing through these tiny little eyeholes.”

Suddenly, the woman who had been taking a selfie came racing across the station. “Ace!” she cried. “Ridge!” I was surprised that the Universe had given her our names. But then, what kind of mother would she be if she didn’t know what to call her own kids?

“Hi, Mom,” I said. I knew it was only pretend, but saying those words caused a little stir in my chest. I wondered if I would ever say that phrase to the person it was meant for.

“What are you two doing?” she asked. By now, her husband had arrived on the scene, a bit of unsmeared sunscreen on his earlobe. Clearly, they were ready for the hot California sun, despite the fact that Super-Fun-Happy Place was still a bus ride away.

“Where are your tickets, boys?” Dad asked. Neither of them seemed bothered by the fact that I was wearing a helmet from the Dark Ages.

I glanced at Ridge through the narrow eyeholes. “Tickets?” Then I shrugged in what I hoped was an endearing way. My new dad was not impressed. Mom shot him a look and he jogged back to the booth to purchase two more tickets.

“Look at you both!” said Mom, her tone disapproving. I thought she might comment on my knight’s helmet, but instead, she said, “How did you get so filthy?” The woman licked her thumb and used it to wipe some of the coal dust off Ridge’s face. “You can’t go wandering off like that. This vacation is for your father. He’s been under a lot of stress at work, and I expect my boys not to add to it.”

“Yes, Mommy dear,” Ridge said. She turned around to check her husband’s progress with the tickets.

“Mommy dear?” I whispered. “You’re like the embarrassing little brother that I don’t know if I have.”

“Actually, they probably think we’re twins,” Ridge said.

“How is that possible?” I rolled up my extralong sleeve and put my arm next to his, pointing out the color difference of our skin.

Ridge shrugged. “Clearly, you were adopted,” he muttered as Dad returned. The excitement I had seen in the selfie had faded to weariness as he handed us our bus tickets. I’ll admit, I felt a little bad about taking his money and burdening his vacation. But this was about saving the world.

And eating cotton candy.