Introduction: I’m sure everyone has come across a story or two about someone finding that bottle or lamp that after the appropriate action releases a genie who will grant a certain number of wishes for the lucky person who happens to find it. Quite frequently, the person finding the genie doesn’t read the ‘fine print’ and the results are frequently not what the person making the wishes desired. The greedy and the dishonest seem to get the worst of it. In the case of this story, I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out.

We are going to take a bit of a trip back in time; not too far. Maybe this will help us make some sense about what’s going on.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter 2

Having been retired for almost 10 years we spent our time travelling around Europe, and taking ocean and river cruises. That is, we did for a while. Becky’s physical health was gradually deteriorating. Her knees had bothered her for years; yet she refused to do anything about it. She had tended to the obese, and that was definitely a contributing factor. She had gone from complaining about the pain, to having to use a cane to get around, to having to have a wheel chair assist in every airport and terminal we passed through. There were times when I was the one pushing her through airports when someone dropped the ball.

We always enjoyed each other’s company, and we enjoyed the same music, and the arts. I wasn’t the best lover, but she put up with me. Then, twenty years ago I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. I knew there was a good chance that our love making could resume; however, that was not to be. The surgery was botched and I spent a month in the hospital. I would never have an erection again. I did learn one thing though. I was able to have orgasms; very strong orgasms, like nothing I’d ever experienced before. That did get me to thinking a bit.

With retirement and Social Security we were quite comfortable. We had a little antique business on the side. We bought and sold fine silver and added to our extensive collection. When the time came, it would go to our children, with strict instructions they were not personally to sell it. It would be sold only through the best auction houses. That was something we had learned many years ago.

I was making the rounds like I usually did a couple of times a month. I took some stuff out to the antique mall. We did a lot better with the on-line auction services. The mall was doing okay, but our stuff was just too high end and esoteric for the type of Interstate travelers that made up a large portion of their customers. After leaving some things off and picking up a few bucks from a couple of sales we had, I headed for another mall that attracted some pretty good dealers. I bought there frequently; however, we couldn’t get the space there we wanted to move into.

Didn’t find anything at the mall, so I headed for a pawn shop I frequently did business with. Maxie would buy precious metals at ten percent under spot and sell items to me at ten percent over spot. He was happy making the quick money, and I was happy to get some pretty good stuff. Maxie was at his usual place on a stool by the cash register and smoking a cigar.

“Hey, Mr. Edwards, glad you came in. I got something this morning you might be interested in. How’s the wife doing? Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Not very well, she’s having a lot of trouble getting around. She needs to get her knees done, but the doctor won’t do anything until she loses at least fifty more pounds. I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Maxie replied.

“You said you had something interesting to show me. I’m dying to see it.” You never could tell about Maxie. What he thought may fabulous, could turn out to be junk, only worth melt. That was not the case this time.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Russian. I remember what you told me about that ‘84’ mark meaning 87.5 percent silver. The guy that sold it to me thought it meant 84 percent. I let him believe it. Besides, all this enamel weighs quite a bit, so he probably made out alright. What ya think?”

I was at a loss for words. This was big time museum stuff. It was a stoppered perfume bottle. It stood about ten inches tall to the top of the stopper. It was almost totally enameled except for the bottom, bottom edge and around the area where the stopper fitted in the neck.

“May I?” I asked while reaching for it.

“Certainly,” Maxie replied.

It had to be Fabergé. Well it was as close as it could get. It was made by Anders Johan Navalinen, one of the best who worked in the Fabergé shop.

“I couldn’t get the stopper out,” Maxie remarked as I reached for the stopper. “I didn’t want to damage it, so I figured I’d leave it to you if you wanted it. I did shake it a bit. I couldn’t hear anything loose or liquid.”

“Yeah, I want it. Maxie, this is worth a hell of a lot of money. Are you sure you want to sell it?”

“It’s yours. If you sell it for big money, just remember where you got it.”

“Maxie, I will. You’ve been a great friend.” I paid him for the silver content plus ten percent. That worked out to right at $1,100. I didn’t care about the weight of the enamel.

Maxie didn’t have a clue. That bottle would bring 200 to 300 grand easily in any major auction house. Hell, it might bring a hell of a lot more. It was really out of my league. I mean, I knew what it was, but we’d never handled anything this valuable. The highest we’d ever sold anything for was around $5,000. We’d made a bundle on that one. Boy, would Becky be surprised when she saw it. Maybe it would motivate her to get her knees fixed.

Becky was visiting her friend in Florida, and wouldn’t be home for a week. That would give me time to research the provenance, and figure out why somebody would sell something this valuable. If it had been stolen, I’d have to make sure it was returned to the rightful owner. I am not dishonest. I would not have gone as far as I did in my career field if I had been.

When I got home, I put the bottle on my desk just to admire it. I double checked the hallmarks, and verified I had been absolutely correct as to its origin. I took about a dozen pictures, and transferred them to my computer and the cloud. It was strange, though. There wasn’t a mark on it; no tarnish, no scratches, no lost enamel, nothing. My gosh, it was 150 years old and was as unblemished as it was the day it was made.

There have been a number of times we’ve had stuck lids or stoppers on items. We’d soak them in hot water for a while, and usually they’d open right up. The last thing we’d want to do is use force and damage something; especially something as valuable as this.

Of course, all that preparation was unnecessary. The stopper that had been firmly in place when I tested it at Maxie’s pawn shop almost jumped into my hand as I pulled at it. This is where it really got silly. Smoke started pouring out and formed a cloud just to the side of the table. The smoke condensed for a while, then suddenly dissipated leaving a rather nicely dressed woman standing there. She had a very pleasant smile.

“You weren’t in that bottle, were you?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.

“No, that stuff’s just to keep the myth alive,” she said as she looked around. “Some folks are more gullible than others. We just transport into the cloud, and it helps maintain the illusion. I certainly wouldn’t want to be in there and be shaken up like Maxie did to the bottle. That could be very uncomfortable.”

I sniffed the bottle of beer I’d been drinking. I couldn’t detect anything unusual.

“You’re not drugged, if that’s what you were trying to detect. Besides, if that beer were drugged, you wouldn’t be able to detect it,” she said as she gave me another wonderful smile.

I took a good swig of my beer, a good German beer by the way. I’d been nursing on the bottle for a while and realized it was still full and nicely chilled. “So, may I ask why you’re here?”

“Certainly,” she laughed. She’d caught me with one of my own jokes. I had to laugh.

“Why are you here?” I asked politely. “And, what is your name?

“Well, you have the bottle, and you opened it. That pretty much locks you in until the requirements are met. As far as my name goes, you may call me Sylvia.” Once again she gave me that beautiful smile.

“Do these requirements involve wishes?”

“That’s pretty much standard. Sometimes there are variations, but in your case, it’s the standard three. There are the standard warnings and cautions. Most of which are ignored by the evil and greedy.”

“May we discuss these wishes before implementing them, that is, go over them, and discuss the ramifications of each?”

“There’s no rule against it, but most just like to make their wishes and run, so to speak.”

“What about time limits?”

“There aren’t any. As long as you have a wish left, I’m yours to command. Take your time. I’ll be with my husband and children. All you have to do is open the bottle, and I’ll get back to you. It may look as if I appear pretty instantaneously; however, on my end more time may elapse. With a young family and an amorous husband, it may take me a few moments to properly attire myself. There are certain rules we have to follow.”

“So, what you’re wearing …?”

“Strictly business attire. You like?”

“Very nice, you make me wish I was a lot younger. Wait, that’s not a wish!”

“Don’t worry, I will always confirm with you any wishes you make. We don’t want any wasted wishes. They can be expensive.”

“Okay, I do know this. My first wish will be for my wife. Are you aware of her condition, what she’s going through?”

“Yes, we are fully aware of that situation.”

“Good,” I replied as I searched for file on my lap top. I turned the screen so she could get a clear view of it. I’ll bet she didn’t need me to, but I did it anyway. I didn’t want to be guilty of assuming too much.

“This is what you want,” she said with a bit of a frown. “You know she won’t like it.”

“I know, but this is my wish. There will some adjustments, to be sure; however, I think we will be able to eventually work things out. If you can do what we desire, we will be happy.

“Now, I have a lot of work to do before my wife gets home. Look, do I have to do the bottle thing every time? I thought I could just text you if I had a question.”

“Sorry, you must use the bottle. It’s written into the contract. Besides, it make a big impression for the first time observers.

“Whoops, Jeffery got into something he shouldn’t have. Gotta run.”

I watched as the cloud of smoke formed out of nothing. She stepped into the cloud and disappeared. The smoke returned to the bottle, and the stopper did a little double flip and settled into the neck of the bottle. I had work to do.

So, what is this image that he showed Sylvia, and why won’t his wife be happy about it? Well we seem to have the standard three wish thing. I wonder what our protagonist is going to do with them. He doesn’t seem to be too greedy. After all, he said the first wish is for his wife, and there are only three wishes.