The Wishing Coin: A Modern Fairy Tale (6 page)

“I told you Julia was here and was not mad at you, didn’t I?” Lewis spoke to his mother consolingly when I joined them back on the table.

“Yes, honey, all right,” Jackie gave me a generous look.

Suddenly she grabbed her head with both hands. Lewis became worried.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know what happened. I just suddenly felt weird, very weird. As if my mind flew away somewhere…”

Lewis looked at me, scared. I was also worried; I had never seen my wishes have such an effect. Had I done something wrong? I suddenly felt something wasn’t right, but what could it have been?

“A really weird feeling. I have never felt like that,” Jackie repeated, still holding her head with both hands.

“I’ll take you to a hospital,” Lewis started but I stopped him.

“No need to hurry. Just drive her to the hotel. I’m sure that tomorrow she’ll feel like a new person.” I smiled.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I took her to a doctor?”

“Why press the panic button for nothing? She needs some nice rest in a homey place and tomorrow she’ll feel great.”

“My opera, Madame, Madame…” Jackie murmured and then her head hit the table right by the half-full sushi plate.

A bunch of people from the adjacent tables turned their heads toward us. The waiter, who had been fussing around taking orders, ran to us to offer his help.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, we must get her outside.”

They both caught Jackie under her arms and took her out of the restaurant. As we ceremonially passed the place, I heard a woman tell her friend, “They must put an age limit on alcohol consumption. It’s scandalous to see elderly people getting drunk.”

We went out to the street. Lewis waved at the first taxi and shoved Jackie into the car.

“Butterfly, Madame Butterfly,” Jackie was groaning while her son was seating her.

“What? What kind of an address is that, guys?” The driver sharply turned round to Lewis.

“No, no, that wasn’t for you; we should have been going to an opera but our plans changed.”

Inside, I was smiling at the thought of Jackie showing up in Metropolitan opera in this condition.

“So where should I drive you to, then?”

“Central Park Hotel,” Lewis instructed and the taxi started.

I watched them leave and then I walked down the street. Despite the unexpected issue, the evening had turned out to be successful. I was proud of myself for making Jackie a different person. What would I have done without the coin? While I was walking, I saw an illuminated advertisement placed on a building. “Be careful what you wish for” was written on it. Below, there was the name of a real estate agency. I walked on determinedly toward Lewis’s apartment when suddenly it hit me – I had touched the coin with my right hand! That vendor had explicitly warned me to touch it only with my left hand. In the bathroom, I had been hurrying because of the woman who entered, and by mistake I put it back with my right hand. What would happen? What if Jackie had or faced unpleasant consequences? I remembered the numerous times the vendor had told me to touch the coin only with my left hand – that meant there must have been some kind of consequence. I shook my head; it all seemed impossible to me. For Christ’s sake, it was just a coin! “A coin that fulfills all your wishes, no matter what they are,” I added aloud. Where did this coin come from and, if it was really that powerful, why had it been given to me? I had already reached the front door of the apartment. I entered it gloomily. He hadn’t arrived yet so I was alone. I took the coin out and stared at it. What if I made a new wish to erase the previous? I discarded this idea; I had been counting on the piece of crap too long already. I had to take responsibility for my actions and decisions. If Jackie felt really bad the next day, I would wish for her to get better. I had to wait and see what would happen.

Chapter 7

I was sitting in my office, rereading the lines for the following episode of my show, when the door sharply opened and Lewis stormed in.

“Something’s going on here. There must be some supernatural intervention. It’s just not right! My mother has gone completely crazy!”

“Oh, what has she done again?”

A week had passed since that unfortunate evening at the sushi restaurant and luckily for me, Jackie did change. She wasn’t pestering us all the time and it appeared that she’d started to like me. Or at least she didn’t hate me. A few days ago she had gone back to Seattle and we hadn’t had a single argument. That was all I’d wanted from that damned snobbish woman – a little respect.

“You just won’t believe it! First she went to the Chairman of the Social Democrats and offered her financial support if they made her a party member.”

“What?”

“Incredible, right? She told them she’d changed her political views and she was begging them to let her join the party. She promised to help them with money, connections –with everything she could.”

“Your mother, a Democrat?” I was dumbfounded.

I remembered how fiercely she had spoken against Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. Even my wildest imagination couldn’t create this picture. “So what will happen to the meetings at that club?”

“The Republican Mothers’ club?”

“Yes, she was a Chairwoman, wasn’t she?”

“I have no idea. I guess they don’t know yet. When they find out, they’ll be shocked. You know what else she’s done? This is the most bizarre thing of all. She’s donated ten thousand dollars to Ballard Food Bank. Can you believe it? Ten thousand bucks for the poor and the beggars!”

This time, I was left open-mouthed, too. Jackie, who had thought that nobody should donate anything, not even food vouchers, unless the recipients were working; that immigrants were like weeds for the American economy and that the minimal hourly payment had to be discarded because it was against the basic market economy principle of demand and supply… Jackie had donated money to feed the poor in Seattle? That was inexplicable, and all the more so if we were talking about ten thousand dollars!

“I told you she’s gone crazy!” Lewis started walking to and fro in the office and finally stopped at my desk. “Look, I don’t want to sound crazy; I know it sounds strange but…” He hesitated for a moment and cautiously looked around to make sure we were alone. “I think that there’s some magic involved here,” he said, almost whispering.

I laughed nervously. I already felt as if I was a character in a Woody Allen movie.

“Lewis, I understand that Jackie’s behavior is…” I wondered what word to use. “Supernatural” felt too much. “…unusual, but she is at an age when very often elderly people like her begin to rethink their values. I don’t think there’s any magic involved here.”

“What magic is involved here?” Barry, The Screw’s screenplay writer, entered the room.

“Oh, nothing. I was just telling Julia how magicians did their tricks. You know, rabbits in hats, bodies cut in half…” Lewis cleared his throat and looked around nervously. “Well, I must be going.”

“Is he OK?” Barry asked me, staring at Lewis.

“He’s fine. His mother, the living embodiment of Uncle Scrooge, has become a Democrat and is now giving tons of money to charity organizations.”

“Really? Now that’s a story for Miracle – How I Did It. Are you planning to show it on national TV?” Barry winked at me. “The joke aside, for the next episode with Leonardo DiCaprio as a guest, I’ve laid emphasis on questions about environment, climate…”

I wasn’t listening to him at all. My mind was focused on Jackie and her complete transformation. Hadn’t I wanted just that? Then why didn’t it feel right? Perhaps it was because Jackie had changed too suddenly, but it was to a good end, right…?

“…make sure you squeeze these things out of him. Julia, are you listening to me?”

Hearing my name mentioned took me back to reality.

“Yes, sorry, Barry. Go on.”

***

At the end of my workday, I decided to take a walk in Central Park and think over the situation. When I finally found some peace and quiet and was alone in the park, I took out the coin, determined to make a decision as to what I should do. One wish and it could all go back to the start, but was I ready for this? Why did everything have to happen by magic and not the natural way? Did I feel happier being the host of my own TV show and dating Lewis again? Could my previous life have been better, despite everything? Jackie’s dramatic change made me think about whether the fulfillment of my wish had actually been good, considering the fact that she was totally changed. Jackie had been a high-class, snobbish bitch who hadn’t been interested in anyone apart from herself. Now she was the complete opposite of her former self and still there was something that was bothering me. Somewhere deep inside, I felt I couldn’t meddle with people’s fates like this and change them to my liking. If they were going to change at all, it should happen by their own wish.

“Hey, babe, how are ya?” A boy from a group of teenagers hanging around whistled at me.

I decided to just walk on but I heard another voice from the same group.

“Hey, Mark, isn’t that the reporter who made Roscoe famous?”

“Hey, hottie, wait a minute!”

“How about showing me on AEC, too? Just hear me rap!”

“You know Roscoe?” I interrupted him.

His name caught my attention.

“Sure we do. Who do you think shot his video?”

“Now wait a minute, that was me!”

“I set up his marketing campaign! Who do you think gave him two million views?”

“Shut up, you bonehead! Who gave him five thousand comments, ha?”

“What? Hold on a minute! How do you mean you gave him two million views?” I turned to the boy who had mentioned something about marketing. The question how Roscoe Ritch had managed to gather two million views had been gnawing at me from the very beginning.

“How else? With money. Pay a grand and you can also get several million views from Bangladesh, India, China… There are plenty of developing countries with millions of people starving and ready to do anything for a couple of bucks.” The three boys laughed spitefully.

Suddenly I felt sick. I wanted to see no one and be seen by no one. So that’s what was behind my top story that had shot me to the top? Paid page views from Asia?

“Sweetie, hear my song! I’ll pay more than Roscoe and I’ll have over five million views!”

“Get out of here!” I shouted. I was so furious. None of them made a move. I shouted one more time, “Get out of my way! Now!”

I was overtaken by hatred, anger and mortification to such an extent that I grabbed the coin and offhandedly wished for the boys to disappear. The next moment they were gone, but I couldn’t calm down. I felt both deceived and like a deceiver.

I went home quickly; I wanted to be alone. Lewis called. He had to have been wondering why I wasn’t with him. I didn’t feel like explaining anything so I didn’t pick up. The next morning I went to work as usual. I was in the office at nine and I was preparing my next presentation when Barry, the Screenplay Writer, came in and said, “Your boy is in the limelight again.”

“My boy?” I repeated and looked up from the sheets of paper in front of me.

“Yes, the rapper Roscoe Ritch.”

“What’s he done? A new video?”

“Haven’t you heard the news?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Three friends of his are missing and haven’t been seen since yesterday evening. The police are investigating. You really haven’t heard? That’s breaking news. Those three teenagers’ mothers are in shock.”

If I hadn’t been sitting I would have most definitely lost my balance.

“Julia, are you all right? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m…um…” I cleared my throat as I was looking for my glass. It had been somewhere on my desk. “The news of the missing teenagers shocked me, too.”

“Well, you’re not alone. Your Roscoe called on the citizens to find his three friends on national TV.”

“Is there any result?” I asked tentatively although I knew the answer.

“I guess no, so far. And don’t forget to add the topic on the missing teenagers to your next program. Get involved in the story and send your condolence to their relatives. Will you do that?”

I nodded. As soon as Barry went out I turned on AEC’s latest news to make sure the screenwriter had been telling the truth. After a while, I heard the message:

“Yesterday evening around six o’clock, Isaac Reed, Gary Tucker, and Matthew Barnes were seen for the last time in the Central Park area. The police are looking for them and begging citizens who have any information about the three teenagers to contact their nearest police department.”

I stopped the video and closed my eyes. What had I done? I’d had no intention to cause those boys any harm, but the previous day they had challenged me. I stood up. I had to fix what I’d done. I closed the door of the room and when I made sure there was no one around (the door was transparent), I took the coin out and spoke:

“I want Roscoe’s three friends to go back to their parents.”

I left the coin on the desk and took a long look at it. I was no longer sure that the wishes I was making were to a good end. What if somebody got on my nerves again and I wished for something that would harm them? Could I control my actions and reactions when I was emotionally upset? I had the nagging feeling that the coin was no longer helping me. The more inconvenient question, however, was if it had helped me at all. I had to talk to someone. Where was that stranger who sold me the coin now?