Be Careful What You Wish For (3 page)

She’s crazy, I realized.

I stared into those coal-black eyes. Rainwater trickled from her hair, down the sides of her pale face. I could feel the coldness of her hand, even through the sleeve of my windbreaker.

The woman is
crazy, I thought.

I’ve been walking through the pouring rain for twenty minutes with a crazy person.

“Three wishes,” the woman repeated, lowering her voice as if not wanting to be overheard by anyone.

“No. Thanks. I’ve really got to get home,” I said. I tugged my wrist from her grasp and turned to my bike.

“I’ll grant you three wishes,” the woman repeated. “Anything you wish shall come true.” She moved the purple bag in front of her and carefully pulled something from it. It was a glass ball, bright red, the size of a large grapefruit. It sparkled despite the darkness around us.

“That’s nice of you,” I said, wiping water off the bike seat with my hand. “But I don’t really have any wishes right now.”

“Please — let me repay you for your kindness,” the woman insisted. She raised the gleaming red ball in one hand. Her hand was small and as pale as her face, the fingers bony. “I really do want to repay you.”

“My — uh — mom will be worried,” I said, glancing up and down the street.

No one in sight.

No one to protect me from this lunatic if she turned dangerous.

Just how crazy was she?
I wondered.
Could she be dangerous? Was I making her angry by not playing along, by not making a wish?

“It isn’t a joke,” the woman said, reading the doubt in my eyes. “Your wishes will come true. I promise you.” She narrowed her gaze. The red ball suddenly glowed brighter. “Make your first wish, Samantha.”

I stared back at her, thinking hard. I was cold and wet and hungry — and a little frightened. I just wanted to get home and get dry.

What if she won’t let me go?

What if I can’t get rid of her? What if she follows me home?

Again, I searched up and down the block. Most of the houses had lights on. I could probably run to the nearest one and get help if I needed it.

But, I decided, it might be easier just to play along with the crazy woman and make a wish.

Maybe that would satisfy her, and she’d go on her way and let me go home.

“What is your wish, Samantha?” she demanded. Her black eyes glowed red, the same color as the gleaming ball in her hand.

She suddenly looked very old. Ancient. Her skin was so pale and tight, I thought I could see her skull underneath.

I froze.

I couldn’t think of a wish.

And then I blurted out, “My wish is … to be the strongest player on my basketball team!”

I don’t know why I said that. I guess I was just nervous. And I had Judith on my mind and all that had happened that day, ending up with the
disaster
at basketball practice.

And so that was my wish. Of course I immediately felt like a total jerk. I mean, of all the things to wish for in the world, why would anyone pick that?

But the woman didn’t seem at all surprised.

She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. The red ball glowed brighter, brighter, until the fiery red radiated around me. Then it quickly faded.

Clarissa thanked me again, turned, tucked the glass ball back in the purple bag, and began walking quickly away.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was so glad she was gone!

I jumped on my bike, turned it around, and began pedaling furiously toward home.

A perfect end to a perfect day
, I thought bitterly.

Trapped in the rain with a crazy woman.

And the wish?

I knew it was totally stupid.

I knew I’d never have to think about it again.

I found myself thinking about the wish at dinner.

I couldn’t get over the way the crystal ball had glowed that strange red color.

Mom was trying to get me to take another helping of mashed potatoes, and I was refusing. They were the kind from a box — you know, potato flakes or something — and didn’t taste at all like real mashed potatoes.

“Sam, you’ve got to eat more if you want to grow big and strong,” Mom said, holding the potato serving bowl under my nose.

“Mom, I don’t
want
to grow any more!” I exclaimed. “I’m already taller than you are, and I’m only twelve!”

“Please don’t shout,” Dad said, reaching for the string beans. Canned string beans. Mom gets home from work late and doesn’t have time to make any
real
food.

“I was tall when I was twelve,” Mom said thoughtfully. She passed the potatoes to Dad.

“And then you shrunk!” Ron exclaimed, snickering. My older brother thinks he’s a riot.

“I just meant I was tall for my age,” Mom said.

“Well, I’m
too
tall for my age,” I grumbled. “I’m too tall for
any
age!”

“In a few years you won’t be saying that,” Mom told me.

When she looked away, I reached under the table and fed some string beans to Punkin. Punkin is my dog, a little brown mutt. He’ll eat
anything.

“Are there more meatballs?” Dad asked. He knew there were. He just wanted Mom to get up and get them for him.

Which she did.

“How was basketball practice?” Dad asked me.

I made a face and gave a double thumbs-down.

“She’s too tall for basketball,” Ron mumbled with a mouth full of food.

“Basketball takes stamina,” Dad said. Sometimes I can’t figure out why Dad says half the things he says.

I mean, what am
I
supposed to say to that?

I suddenly thought of the crazy woman and the wish I had made. “Hey, Ron, want to shoot a few
baskets after dinner?” I asked, poking my string beans around on the plate with my fork.

We have a hoop on the front of the garage and floodlights to light up the driveway. Ron and I play a little one-on-one sometimes after dinner. You know. To unwind before starting our homework.

Ron glanced out of the dining room window. “Did it stop raining?”

“Yeah. It stopped,” I told him. “About half an hour ago.”

“It’ll still be real wet,” he said.

“A few puddles won’t ruin your game,” I told him, laughing.

Ron’s a really good basketball player. He’s a natural athlete. So of course he has almost no interest at all in playing with me. He’d rather stay up in his room reading a book. Any book.

“I’ve got a lot of homework,” Ron said, pushing his black-framed glasses up on his nose.

“Just a few minutes,” I pleaded. “Just a little shooting practice.”

“Help your sister,” Dad urged. “You can give her some pointers.”

Ron reluctantly agreed. “But only for a few minutes.” He glanced out the window again. “We’re going to get soaked.”

“I’ll bring a towel,” I said, grinning.

“Don’t let Punkin out,” Mom said. “He’ll get his paws all wet and track mud on the floor.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Ron grumbled.

I knew it was stupid, but I had to see if my wish had come true.

Would I suddenly be a great basketball player? Would I suddenly be able to outshoot Ron? To actually throw the basketball into the basket?

Would I be able to dribble without stumbling? To pass the ball in the direction I wanted? To catch the ball without it bouncing off my chest?

I kept scolding myself for even thinking about the wish.

It was so dumb. So totally dumb.

Just because a crazy woman offers to grant three wishes
, I told myself,
doesn
’
t mean that you have to get all excited and think you’re instantly going to turn into Michael Jordan!

Still, I couldn’t wait to play with Ron.

Was I in for a big surprise?

Yes. I
was
in for a surprise.

My shooting was actually
worse!

The first two times I tossed the ball at the hoop, I missed the garage entirely and had to go chase the ball over the wet grass.

Ron laughed. “I see you’ve been practicing!” he teased.

I gave him a hard shove in the stomach with the wet basketball. He deserved it. It wasn’t funny.

I was so disappointed.

I told myself over and over that wishes don’t come true, especially wishes granted by crazy women out wandering in the rain.

Still, I couldn’t help but get my hopes up.

I mean, Judith and Anna and the other girls on the team were so mean to me. It would be totally terrific to come to the game against Jefferson Elementary tomorrow and suddenly be the star of the team.

The star. Ha-ha.

Ron dribbled the ball to the hoop and made an easy layup. He caught his own rebound and passed the ball to me.

It sailed through my hands and bounced down the driveway. I started running after it, slipped on the wet surface, and fell facedown into a puddle.

Some star.

I
’
m playing worse!
I told myself.
Much worse!

He helped me up. I brushed myself off.

“Remember, this was
your
idea!” he said.

With a determined cry, I grabbed the ball, darted past him, and dribbled furiously to the basket.

I had to make this basket. I
had
to!

But as I went up for my shot, Ron caught up with me. He leaped high, raised his arms, and batted the ball away.

“Aaaagggh!”

I let out a frustrated shout.
“I wish you were only a foot tall!”
I cried.

He laughed and ran after the ball.

But I felt a tremor of fear roll down my body.

What have I just done?
I asked myself, staring into the darkness of the backyard, waiting for Ron to return with the ball.
Have I just made my second wish?

I didn’t mean to!
I told myself, my heart
thudding
wildly in my chest. It was an accident. It wasn’t a real wish.

Have I just shrunk my brother down to a foot tall?

No. No. No.
I repeated over and over, waiting for him to reappear.

The
first
wish hadn’t come true. There was no reason to expect the second wish would come true.

I squinted into the heavy darkness of the backyard. “Ron — where are you?”

Then I gasped as he came scampering toward me over the grass — a foot tall — just as I had wished!

I froze like a statue. I felt cold as stone.

Then, as the tiny figure emerged from the darkness, I started to laugh.

“Punkin!” I cried. “How did
you
get out?”

I was so happy to see him — so happy it wasn’t a tiny Ron scampering over the grass — I picked up the little dog and hugged him tight.

Of course his paws got me covered with wet mud. But I didn’t care.

Sam, you’ve just got to chill
, I scolded myself as Punkin struggled free.
Your wish about Ron couldn’t come true because Clarissa isn’t here with her glowing red ball.

You’ve got to stop thinking about the three wishes,
I told myself.
It’s just dumb. And you’re making yourself crazy over them.

“What’s going on? How’d
he
get out?” Ron cried, appearing from the side of the garage with the ball.

“Must’ve sneaked out,” I replied with a shrug.

We played a few more minutes. But it was cold and wet. And no fun at all, especially for me.

I didn’t sink a single basket.

We finished with a foul-shot competition, a short game of HORSE. Ron won easily. I was still on the O.

As we trotted back to the house, Ron patted me on the back. “Ever think of taking up tiddle-dywinks?” he teased. “Or maybe Parcheesi?”

I uttered an unhappy wail. I had the sudden urge to tell him why I felt so disappointed, to tell him about the weird woman and the three wishes.

I hadn’t told Mom or Dad about her, either. The whole story was just too stupid.

But I thought maybe my brother would find it funny. “I have to tell you about this afternoon,” I said as we pulled off our wet sneakers in the kitchen. “You won’t believe what happened to me. I —”

“Later,” he said, pulling off his wet socks and tucking them into the sneakers. “I’ve got to get to that homework.”

He disappeared up to his room.

I started to my room, but the phone rang. I picked it up after the first ring.

It was Cory, calling to ask how my basketball practice had gone after school.

“Great,” I told him sarcastically. “Just great. I was so fabulous, they’re going to retire my number.”

“You don’t have a number,” Cory reminded me. What a friend.

Judith tried to trip me in the lunchroom the next afternoon. But this time I managed to step over her outstretched sneaker.

I made my way past Judith’s table and found Cory nearly hidden in the corner near the trash baskets. He had already unwrapped his lunch and had a very unhappy expression on his face.

“Not grilled cheese again!” I exclaimed, dropping my brown paper lunch bag on the table and pulling out the chair across from him.

“Grilled cheese again,” he muttered. “And look at it. I don’t even think it’s American cheese. I think my dad tried to slip in cheddar on me.”

I opened my chocolate-milk carton, then pulled my chair in closer. Across the room, some boys were laughing loudly, tossing a pink-haired Troll doll back and forth. It landed in someone’s soup, and the table erupted in wild cheers.

As I picked up my sandwich, a shadow fell over the table. I realized that someone was standing behind me.

“Judith!” I cried, turning my head.

She sneered down at me. She was wearing a green-and-white school sweater over dark green
corduroys. “Are you coming to the game after school, Byrd?” she demanded coldly.

I set down the sandwich. “Yeah. Of course I’m coming,” I replied, puzzled by the question.

“Too bad,” she replied, frowning. “That means we don’t have a chance of winning.”

Judith’s pal Anna suddenly appeared beside her. “Couldn’t you get sick or something?” she asked me.

“Hey, give Sam a break!” Cory cried angrily.

“We really want to beat Jefferson,” Anna said, ignoring him. She had dark red lipstick smeared on her chin. Anna wore more lipstick than all the other seventh-graders put together.

“I’ll try my best,” I replied through clenched teeth.

They both laughed as if I had made a joke. Then they walked off, shaking their heads.

If only my stupid wish would come true
! I thought bitterly.

But of course I knew that it wouldn’t.

I figured I was in for more embarrassment and humiliation at the game.

I had no idea just how surprising the game would turn out to be.