Read Through a Tangled Wood Page 21


  * * *

  That weekend, Shel sleeps over. We spent the day at the mall, looking at all the stuff we will buy once we get our money. A really great day. We don’t talk about her moving. Finally, we’re sitting on my bed, looking at Etok’s bottle.

  “I’m afraid to wish for anything else,” I say.

  Shel nods. “I know. Because just one wish can’t fix this.”

  “No. But this isn’t terrible. We’ll be able to see each other whenever we want, almost. Right?”

  She sighs. “I know, but not every day.”

  We sit and stare at the bottle.

  “We need to get accepted to the same college,” she says suddenly.

  “Yeah,” I say. “We need to graduate early from high school, then get accepted to the same college.”

  “And it has to be a really cool college, like Columbia, so we can live in a great apartment,” Shel says. “Maybe that’s what we should wish for.”

  “But we can get those things anyway,” I say. “We have the money. We’re both pretty smart. We don’t need to wish for that.”

  I pull out the stopper. Etok appears, looking even more smug and self-satisfied.

  “So, girls, how’s all that money working out for you?” he asks.

  “I have a question,” I say.

  “Ask away,” he says, still smiling.

  “What if I never ask for the third wish?”

  Shel looks at me. “What?” she asks.

  Etok stops smiling. “I don’t understand,” he says.

  “Well, no one else can ask you for a wish except me, right?”

  “Yes,” he says. “After I grant the last wish, I wait for someone else to open the bottle, and it begins again.”

  “But what if I never ask for a third wish. What happens to you?”

  He’s frowning. “I have no idea. That’s never happened before.”

  Shel suddenly grins. “The only time you get to come out is if someone who is owed a wish opens the bottle, right?”

  He nods slowly.

  “So if someone unstops the bottle who isn’t owed any wishes, you can’t come out,” I say.

  He nods again.

  “So, if I never ask for my third wish, you’re stuck inside that bottle forever?”

  He looks horror-struck. “Please, don’t do that to me. Please. I promise you, your last wish will be granted with no strings.”

  “But what about the next person?” Shel asks. “And the person after that? You’ve been making people unhappy for a long time.”

  He’s shaking his head. “Please, no. You have no idea what it’s like, trapped in there. “

  “Dark?” I ask.

  “Very.”

  “Can you hear anything?” I ask. “Like, all the people passing by who don’t pick you up?”

  He nods. “Yes.”

  “What if you were, say, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? Would you be able to hear the fish?”

  Shel laughs.

  “No.” Etok’s face starts to crumble. “There would be nothing but silence. And darkness. And forever is…well…please don’t do this to me. Make a wish.”

  I shake my head. “Nope. I have no wishes to make at this time, Etok.”

  “Tell you what – I’ll give you two.”

  “Ah…no.”

  He stares at us. Shel reaches over and grabs the bag of chips off the bedside table, and we share them for a few minutes. Etok hangs in the air.

  “Please?” he says again.

  I shrug. Shel giggles.

  Etok dissolves and returns to the bottle. I put the stopper in. I press down really hard. Then I find my shoe under the bed and hammer at the stopper with the heel.

  “Where should we put it?” Shel asks.

  “I’m not sure.” We finish the chips, and I get a bottled water for us to share. It’s after midnight, and everything is pretty quiet.

  “Why don’t you take it?” I say to Shel.

  “What would I do with it?”

  “Well, Trinidad has lots of ocean around it, right?”

  She hugs me. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she says.

  “Me too. But we’ll get over it,” I say. “Etok won’t.”

  She starts to giggle, and I join her. We laugh for a very long time.

  Poor Etok.

  About Marijon Braden

  Marijon was born and raised in New Jersey, which may help to explain her attitude towards charlatans and idiots. She started writing stories at an early age, her first literary influences being Walter Farley, author of the ‘Black Stallion’ series, and Carolyn Keene, of ‘Nancy Drew’ fame. That’s probably why her earliest efforts involved a young girl detective who solved crime on horseback.

  She had a very happy childhood, did well in school, and was a fairly obedient daughter until she went away to college. The original plan was to major in journalism. She wrote for the college paper until she realized that wasn’t the kind of writing she wanted to do when she grew up. So she switched to education. That was not, perhaps, the smartest move.

  Then, life happened. Jobs, rent, husband, baby, another husband, another baby, until she found herself a stay-at-home mom, about to chew her foot off if she had to watch one more episode of ‘Barney.’ So, she started to write again.

  She still lives in New Jersey with her husband, daughter, two cats and a very spoiled cocker spaniel. Her older daughter is off in Oregon, fighting the good fight for the homeless. She loves to cook – and eat – and plays RPG games on her Xbox when she needs to decompress (Skyrim alone cost her months of her life). During the past few years, she has lost, and tragically found again, the same twenty pounds. Life is all about trying, failing, and trying harder.

  She writes in her downstairs office, surrounded by her growing collection of gargoyles. Smoke, Wings and Stone is her first YA novel.

  Marijon Braden is the pen name for Dee Ernst, who writes adult romantic comedy, and has lived an almost identical life.

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  Killing Snow White

  Jamie Campbell

  CHAPTER 1