The Wishmakers

  He began to nod slowly. “Ha! Absolutely . . . saving the world is kind of my thing.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ll be relying on you a lot. I mean, how am I supposed to stop this Thackary person if I don’t even know where to start looking?”

  “Well, let’s start with what we do know,” Ridge said. “Thackary has to be a kid. I can tell you that.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Genie jars can only be opened by kids,” Ridge said. “That’s one thing I know. This Thackary character will probably be under thirteen years old.”

  That was something to go on, at least.

  “Is he in the city?” I asked. Lincoln, Nebraska, seemed like a pretty big place to me. In the three years I’d lived here, I certainly hadn’t met every resident.

  “I’ve told you everything I know about him,” said Ridge.

  “This is impossible,” I said. “Aren’t there, like, seven billion people in the world? He could be any one of them!”

  Ridge leaned over and picked up the peanut butter jar from the pile of sandwiches. He held it out to me. “Maybe it’s time you start wishing for some answers.”

  “Do I have to have the jar to make a wish?” I asked, taking it from his hand.

  “Well, no,” he answered. “Technically, you don’t need the jar at all. Though it should come in handy from time to time, so I’d recommend keeping it close.”

  “What can I do with it?” I asked.

  Before he could answer me, the door that led from the kitchen to the garage flew open. I turned, watching bagged sandwiches flooding across the threshold like a dam had broken.

  My foster parents were standing in the doorway. I had been so wrapped up in my conversation with Ridge that I hadn’t even heard the car pull in.

  “Ace!” Mr. Lindon called, a broad smile breaking over his face. “You made lunch!” He waded into the kitchen, my foster mother right behind him.

  I glanced at the enormous piles around me. The man arrived home to find his house full of peanut butter sandwiches, and all he could say was “You made lunch”?

  “You must have been busy,” Mrs. Lindon said. “You made quite a few.”

  “You think I made all these?” I finally stammered. “You guys have only been gone for thirty minutes!” I turned to Ridge, my face twisted in confusion.

  “Ah,” Ridge said, “I should have mentioned that the Universe has a way of protecting Wishmakers from suspicion.”

  “Who’s your friend?” Mrs. Lindon asked, lifting her arm through a mound of sandwiches to gesture at Ridge.

  “Umm . . .” If the Universe was really going to protect me from suspicion, then it wouldn’t hurt to tell the truth, right? “His name is Ridge. He’s a magical genie, and he’s here to give me unlimited wishes.”

  “Oh, you met at the park?” Mr. Lindon said. “How nice.”

  “That’s not what I said,” I answered. What was going on?

  “It doesn’t matter what you say,” explained Ridge. “People around us will only hear and see what makes sense to them.”

  “We’ll be in the living room if you need us, Ace,” Mr. Lindon said, taking his wife’s hand and pressing through the sandwiches. I watched speechlessly until they were almost out of sight.

  “I have to go!” I suddenly blurted, causing Mr. and Mrs. Lindon to halt and look back. “I’ve been given a quest to save the world,” I explained further, “so I’m going to be gone for a week or so.”

  The Lindons smiled at me. “Summer camp! That sounds like a great opportunity,” Mr. Lindon said. “Have so much fun.”

  “And be safe,” added Mrs. Lindon.

  The Universe was clearly casting some pretty heavy magic over them.

  “Okay,” I muttered, unsure how to respond as the two adults moved into the living room.

  “You’ll be grateful for that,” said Ridge. “Wishing can get pretty magical. It’s a lot easier to have the Universe shielding us from unwanted attention. It’ll help us stop Thackary without interference.”

  With the Lindons taken care of, I decided to turn my attention to my quest. I’d need to find Thackary if I wanted to stop him from getting that Undiscovered Genie Jar. And if I could wish for anything . . .

  “I wish to teleport to wherever Thackary Anderthon is right now.”

  I felt a click on my wrist and I looked down to see the hourglass pop up again.

  “Okay,” Ridge said. “If you want to teleport to Thackary Anderthon, then you’ll have to accept the consequence that goes along with the wish.”

  “Which is?” I prompted.

  “Your legs will permanently be replaced with pogo sticks.”

  “What?!” I shouted. I’d seen kids bouncing around on those spring-loaded pogo sticks. They looked like fun. But I didn’t want to have them in place of legs.

  “The swap will be painless,” Ridge said, but he wasn’t helping the situation.

  “No! I do not accept!” I cried. As soon as I turned the consequence down, my hourglass collapsed into a regular watch and Ridge shrugged.

  “Permanent pogo stick legs?” I said. “You can tell the Universe that seems like a bit much just to teleport myself. I thought these consequences were supposed to be balanced.”

  “Oh, I forgot to mention that,” Ridge said, holding up a finger. “Whenever you wish for something directly related to your quest, the Universe holds that at a higher value. The consequences can get pretty steep.”

  I parted the sea of sandwiches and looked down at my legs, grateful that they were still legs. “Pogo sticks?” I muttered. “That’s so random. How does that balance against my wish to teleport, anyway?”

  “The consequences don’t necessarily have anything to do with the wish,” Ridge answered. “Since making wishes gives you certain advantages, the consequences are meant to disadvantage. Wishes aren’t exactly natural, so the Universe’s consequences are kind of random.”

  “And wishes that will help get me closer to stopping Thackary Anderthon are going to come with bigger disadvantages?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” answered Ridge.

  “So I have to wish to stop Thackary without ever wishing to stop Thackary?”

  Ridge nodded, his face sincere. “That’s the best way to do it. Wishing is tricky. If you wish to teleport directly to Thackary Anderthon, then the wish did all the work for you.”

  “Then what am I supposed to wish?” I asked.

  “Don’t wish for things directly,” Ridge said. “If you make a wish that still requires some effort on your part, then the consequence might not be quite as big of a disadvantage.”

  “What if I wish to know where Thackary Anderthon lives?”

  Ridge shrugged. “That might be better, since getting to his house would still require effort from you. But I’m guessing that’ll still have a significant consequence since Thackary is the object of your quest.”

  Well, I could always turn down the consequence if it was too much. “I wish to know where Thackary Anderthon lives.”

  My hourglass watch popped open.

  “If you want to know where Thackary lives,” said Ridge, “then you’ll never be able to find the Lindons’ house again.”

  “This house?” I glanced toward the living room where my foster parents had gone. After two years, I was certainly calling this place home.

  “This house or any house that your foster parents move to,” replied Ridge.

  “So I’ll just wander around the neighborhood, looking for my way back?” I said. “What if someone else brings me here?”

  Ridge nodded. “That would work, but you’ll never be able to find it on your own.”

  Was it worth it? I liked this place. I was finally settling into my life here. The Lindons were good people. Maybe they’d even be willing to adopt me. If I accepted this consequence, I might never find them again.

  Of course, if things worked out with this genie, I might not need to come bac
k to the Lindons’ house at all. I might finally find my real family. My real home.

  My hand crept into my pocket, feeling for the only object I ever kept with me. The only object that was truly mine. My fingers curled around the tattered, folded card. My gaze was trained on Ridge—a genie, capable of granting me any wish I desired. If I went with him, my greatest wish could come true. I might finally get the answers I’d been seeking for years.

  “Bazang,” I said, officially accepting the wish. I suddenly knew exactly where Thackary Anderthon lived. “Let’s go save the world.”

  Chapter 4

  It was the strangest feeling to get lost the moment I stepped out the front door. By the time we reached the sidewalk, I couldn’t remember where the Lindons’ house was at all. Ridge pointed, and told me to turn around, but I guess I kept looking in the wrong direction.

  I gave up after a few moments and decided to focus on getting to Thackary Anderthon’s house, which I did know how to find.

  “How long will it take us to get to Thackary’s house?” Ridge asked, tugging at the straps on his backpack. We both wore packs so full of peanut butter sandwiches that we could barely zip them shut. I couldn’t bring all of them—not by a long shot. But between the two of us, we must have had at least a hundred.

  Does that seem excessive to you? I didn’t know if I’d ever find my way back. And the last thing I wanted was to get hungry while I was trying to save the world.

  “Thackary lives in Omaha,” I said.

  “How far away is that?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “People always talk about driving there.”

  “Then we’ll need a car,” replied Ridge.

  “I’ve got something better.” I pointed at him and raised the lidless peanut butter jar. “I wish I could fly to Thackary Anderthon’s house.”

  I glanced down as the hourglass emerged from my watch.

  “If you want to be able to fly,” said Ridge, “then every bird you see along the way will poop on you.”

  Well, that wasn’t going to be very pleasant. But maybe I could dodge. “Sure,” I said. “Bazang.”

  My hourglass collapsed, and I didn’t feel any different. Was I just supposed to jump into the air and see what happened? I bent my knees. Ridge shouted something, reaching out for me, but I was too excited to be stopped.

  I launched upward, flying straight into the blue July sky. Laughing, I watched the ground fall away beneath me—ten feet, twenty feet, thirty . . .

  Something slammed into me with so much force that the air was instantly knocked from my lungs. The peanut butter genie jar flew from my grasp, tumbling out of sight. At the same moment, I was pulled downward by a tremendous unseen force. Halfway to the sidewalk, I collided with Ridge. I didn’t understand how he had managed to get twenty feet off the ground, but we smashed into each other, our bodies pressing together painfully.

  For half a second, I thought we might hover there, in midair. Then we began plummeting toward the ground once more, this time with Ridge shrieking in my ear.

  I had no idea what was happening, but I managed to get ahold of the situation just before we struck the sidewalk. I gave an upward burst of flight, but Ridge was too heavy and it was barely enough to break our fall. The two of us tumbled onto the concrete.

  “What was that?” I groaned, rolling away from Ridge.

  “We snapped the tether.” He crawled over and picked up his fallen baseball cap. “I was going to explain, but you just took off.”

  “I was excited to fly!” Though I’ll admit, I was much more reluctant now.

  “When you opened my genie jar,” Ridge said, “we got tied together for the week.”

  “Tied together?” I swiped my hand through the air between us. Wouldn’t you notice a string if you got tied to another person?

  “It’s called a tether,” Ridge explained. “It’s invisible. As long as we stay together, it won’t give us any trouble. But if you try to fly off like that . . .” He stood up slowly.

  “How far apart can we get?” I asked as he helped me up.

  “Forty-two feet,” Ridge answered. “If we ever get more than forty-two feet apart, the tether will remind us to stick together.”

  “That was more than a reminder!” I felt my chest to make sure none of my ribs were broken. That invisible force had hit me like a freight train!

  “If the tether snaps, it brings us both back together.”

  That explained why Ridge had seemed to fly upward, meeting in the middle of our invisible rope.

  “What about my wish?” My ability to fly would be totally wasted if I had to stay right by Ridge’s side. He was too heavy to carry.

  “There is a way,” Ridge said, looking both ways and then running out into the street. He stooped and picked up the peanut butter jar I had dropped when the tether snapped.

  “Is it broken?” I asked as he carried it back to the sidewalk.

  “You can’t break a genie jar,” Ridge said.

  “Isn’t it made of plastic?” Peanut butter jars were tough, but they didn’t seem indestructible. Surprisingly, though, the thing didn’t even have a scratch from the fall.

  Ridge shook his head, black hair bouncing. “It’s protected by the Universe. Nothing can shatter a genie jar.” He handed it to me. “You can order me into the jar. It’ll be a lot easier to carry me around that way.”

  “Another wish?” I asked, glancing down at the empty container.

  “No,” he said. “You just have to say ‘Ridge, get into the jar,’ and I’ll be forced to obey. But you have to be holding the jar when you give the command.”

  “What about the tether?” I put a hand to my chest. “Does it still tie us together when you’re in the jar?”

  “Yeah,” Ridge answered. “You’ll have to stay within forty-two feet of the jar at all times.” He gestured at the container. “Let’s give it a try.”

  I shrugged. It seemed like the best way to fly with him. “Ridge,” I said, “get into the jar.”

  Before my eyes, Ridge instantly turned into a puff of dark smoke and got sucked into the open jar in my hand. Suddenly alone, I peered inside but still couldn’t see anything.

  “You in there?” I spoke into the opening.

  “YEEEOOOOW!” came Ridge’s shrieking reply. “Get me out of here, Ace!”

  I startled, nearly dropping the jar. What was happening to the genie in there? “How?” I shouted. “How do I get you out?”

  His voice echoed out the opening. “Same way you got me in here,” he answered, his voice uneasy. “Just say ‘Ridge, get out of the jar.’ Say it!”

  “Uhh,” I stammered. “Ridge, get out of the jar!”

  Another puff of black smoke, and Ridge appeared. He danced across the lawn, scratching himself all over, as though his clothes were infested with ants.

  “What happened to you in there?” I asked.

  He finally settled, looking over at me. “It was dark,” he replied. “And a very tight fit. It made me itch all over, but there was no way to scratch it.”

  “I thought you lived in there,” I said, holding up the plastic container.

  He shook his head. “The jar is usually a doorway to a peaceful place where genies are in a deep sleep and time passes quickly.”

  “It didn’t sound too peaceful a second ago,” I pointed out.

  “I couldn’t get there,” Ridge explained. “During a quest . . .”

  “I see. The Universe doesn’t want you hiding away when you’re supposed to be out here with me.”

  “It’s okay for a bit,” he said, shuddering. “Just don’t leave me in there for a long time.”

  Well, that was going to put a damper on my flight to Thackary Anderthon’s house. Still, flying in short bursts was better than walking.

  “Ridge,” I said. He gave me a pained look, and I said the next part apologetically. “Get into the jar.”

  Chapter 5

  Flying was hard. Not only did we have to stop every so
often so I could let Ridge out of the jar to scratch himself, but I was exhausted. Sure, flying was pretty cool, but it was also way more tiring than I thought it would be. Like a cross between swimming and running. I was glad Ridge was stuck in his jar so he couldn’t see how uncoordinated I was. I couldn’t fly fast or straight.

  And then there were the birds.

  I tried not to notice them, but if a bird so much as fluttered past my peripheral vision, it came zooming over to poop on me. I tried to dodge or outdistance them. But those birds were incredibly determined. And accurate.

  It was dinnertime when we finally reached Thackary Anderthon’s neighborhood. I was so splattered in bird droppings that I felt like I’d been painted white.

  “Ridge, get out of the jar,” I said as my feet touched down in the street. The genie appeared in his usual puff of smoke, scratching himself all over.

  “Are we there yet?” It was the same question he had asked for the last few hours. Then he looked at me and cringed. “Were you always wearing a white shirt?”

  I glanced down at my gooey shirt and tried not to gag. It had definitely been blue when we left my house. I ignored the comment, wiping the latest dropping from my forehead and pointing toward a dilapidated trailer home. “This is it.”

  The place was a dingy taupe color, like a giant Rice Krispie. Ribbons of paint peeled off the side and the tiny yard seemed to have rejected the grass. What little vegetation remained was dried and brown among patches of bare dirt.

  Side by side, we approached the sagging front steps. I had just put my foot on the first one, when my eyes caught a scuffed blue cooler tipped over in the dirt. The white lid was broken, but I saw a name written in black marker across the side.

  ANDERTHON

  We had actually found the right place! I don’t know why I was surprised—my wish had told me that this was where Thackary lived. But seeing the name written on the cooler took any doubt out of my mind.

  “What’s your plan?” Ridge asked quietly.

  My plan was simple—get inside, tie up Thackary Anderthon, and make sure he didn’t escape for a week. Then my quest would be fulfilled and the world would be saved from zombie pets.