15 – Ginny
‘I want this one!’ Esmé says. ‘This one, daddy. I want the ginny.’
‘Kid, we are not getting a genie.’
‘But I WANT it!’ she pouts and stomps her little feet.
‘Look, genies are a hassle. Here, look at this puppy instead – isn’t he cute? Or that tabby kitten we just passed, you liked her, didn’t you?’
Esmé looks unconvinced. ‘I want a ginny, though.’
‘Sweetheart, a genie does not make for a good first pet. Wishes can be very dangerous.’
‘Actually…’ The volunteer from the shelter pokes his head in through the doorframe. ‘This one has no wishes left. That’s why the owner abandoned it. Happens all the time, I’m sad to say.’
‘No wishes?’ Esmé’s dad is incredulous. ‘Then what’s the point of it?’
‘Well, now that’s the sort of thinking that the previous owner must have had.’ The volunteer – his name tag says Andy – shakes his head and sighs. ‘Such a shame when folks adopt that mindset. It still has a lot to give, you know?’
Esmé nods an enthusiastic agreement, despite not understanding what Andy is getting at.
‘How so?’ her father asks.
‘Think of where this genie has been, eh? It’s old – at least a few hundred years, maybe thousands. The stories it must have, can you imagine? Wow. And all it wants is a nice master to take care of it, let it out of the lamp every day, provide some intellectually stimulating conversation. Just think what a resource it could be to a history buff, or an old folks’ home, or, I don’t know, teaching a child?’
‘I suppose…’ Esmé’s dad takes a moment to think. He looks to his daughter, who is trying to look properly pensive and responsible, but barely manages to contain a gap-toothed grin.
‘It’s not aggressive, is it? One hears so many stories of underlying trauma in abandoned pets.’
‘Oh, not at all, sir,’ Andy assures him. ‘Grumpy on occasion, sure, but that’s the elderly for you, eh? Most of the time, it’s rather sedate. Likes its tea of an afternoon, maybe a trip to the desert now and then. Reminds it of Egypt, apparently.’
‘We have a view of the Luxor Hotel pyramid from our backyard. Maybe that would be nice?’
‘I’m sure it would love that. So, what do you say? Your girl seems decided already.’
‘Please, daddy. Puh-leeease!’ Esmé starts doing a little stance of anticipation.
‘Tell you what, kid. I’m on board, but let’s hear what your mom says first, alright?’
His daughter scrunches her face up as if to cry, then relents. ‘Okay…’
‘Swell,’ Andy exclaims. ‘You’ll want to inspect the merchandise before you make a final decision, of course. Shall we?’ He opens the cage and pulls out a tarnished, antique oil lamp, rubbing it gently. ‘Hey, old fella, there’s someone here wants to meet you. Say hi to, umm…’
A wisp of smoke starts trailing out of the lamp’s spout, making slow spirals around the would-be new owners. Two spots of glowing gold and green appear in the viscous cloud. A deep, rich voice speaks:
‘Esmé. I can teach you great and wondrous things.’
‘S-such as?’ the girl stutters.
‘How to tie your shoes, for a start.’