The Wrong Words by Janelle Chambers
When Jeff opened the door to his two-story townhouse, the thump, thump, thump of a large black trunk rolling down the stairs alerted him to the bad thing. The trunk, upon landing at Jeff’s feet, opened enough to allow the falling of a hand, attached to a plane ticket, and surrounded by cash. Jeff’s heart stopped. Then the pounding in his chest nearly propelled him with its velocity.
Jeff stumbled, dropped the groceries, and sank to his knees to peer further into the trunk.
When he’d first met her in college, and when he’d proposed a year later, she’d had the same look on her face, only now it was pale and frozen; amused surprise replaced by horror.
Jeff hurriedly reached for the phone in his pocket, felt the plastic slip through his fingers and heard the crack as it smashed against the tile floor. Jeff stood and bolted for the house phone in the kitchen. He ran past the kid sitting on the kitchen island.
“Hi Jeff, we need to talk.”
Jeff picked up the phone.
“Jeff, I have some bad news for you. Your wife is dead.”
“No, she’s not,” Jeff said, holding the phone to his ear. “She just needs help. I’m calling for help.”
“Jeff, she’s gone. She made her wishes.”
Jeff froze, his brain uncomprehending. He looked at the kid, who was not in fact, a kid. That couldn’t be right. They’d gone over each other’s wishes for when the time came. For when the Djinn came. They planned out and memorized each word methodically. With the Djinn, you had to be careful. Barry down the street wished for wealth for his family and a week later he died; leaving his family one million in life insurance and another four million from the construction company that buried him in bricks.
Jeff hoped his whole life not to end up with an asshole for a Djinn, but he and his wife were prepared. No kids until after their wishes, just to be sure. Simple wishes, inconsequential. Jeff insisted they be written down and memorized until they could recite them in their sleep. They’d quiz each other and laugh as they both spoke the wishes simultaneously. There was no room for error. They were written down and placed on the fridge and on the little cork board decorating the wall in their bedroom. So how…
Jeff hung up the phone and looked at the Djinn, who sat cross-legged with a table lamp in its lap.
“What did you do to her? Bring her back!” Jeff’s voice sounded weak, even to him.
“I granted her wishes. Nothing she didn’t ask for. And you know the rules, Jeff. I can’t undo what’s been done. And I can’t bring back the dead.”
Hurt him, a voice chanted in Jeff’s head. Stop being a little pussy and fix it. Man up!
His father’s words, but Jeff never so much as killed a spider before. His hands balled and un-balled into fists.
What are you going to do about it? Do something Jeff… That’s what his wife would tell him when something was broken or lost or… and now she…
The Djinn said, “Jeff, I need your three wishes.” The clock on the wall ticked over and over. Could he smell decay? No, it was too soon for that. Besides, she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. They’d been so careful!
Do something!
Jeff stumbled into a chair, head in his hands. Have to think! The Djinn couldn’t leave until he made his wishes. The second hand on the clock ticked. Jeff thought. The Djinn let out a breath of impatience.
Jeff planned this moment, but now his wife’s… situation erased any memory of what he’d wanted. He couldn’t yet bring himself to think of her as gone.
“I wish to know what she wished,” Jeff said.
“That’s against the rules. Get creative, Jeff.”
A migraine was forming in the back of his head. It sounded like his father calling him a pussy. “Fine, I wish to know what my wife said that got her in… in the…,” Jeff waived a hand at the hallway.
“In the trunk?” The Djinn said.
“Yes,” Jeff said.
The Djinn sighed and said, “That’s still not creative, but I’ll give you this one.” Fathomless blue eyes clouded over like black ink and the lamp it held flashed for a moment before the Djinn said, “Granted.”
Jeff grimaced as the Djinn spoke in a voice so akin to his wife’s, if Jeff hadn’t already sat down, he would have fallen.
“‘Finally…do you know how long I’ve been waiting? I’m ready… I wish for a one-way ticket to Greece – in my current name of course – to appear in my hand right now! Oh my god it worked! Um… okay, I wish to be gone before my husband – that’s Jeff – comes home. Okay, okay… I wish for enough money to travel with.'” The sudden scream from the Djinn almost caused Jeff to fall out of his chair.
The Djinn wailed and pleaded in her voice. Her voice begged to be let out. Her voice took back what she wished. Her voice became breathy and suffocated.
Jeff could taste the salt of his own tears as he silently sobbed. It lasted too long. And then, the Djinn abruptly stopped.
“Next wish.”
“Just bring her back!” Jeff sobbed, wiping snot onto his shirt sleeve. “Please! I’ll do anything!”
“Oh come on, man! She was going to leave you. You still want her? You might be a pussy, but you’re smarter than that,” the Djinn rolled his eyes, his hands thrumming a tattoo on the table lamp.
Pussy.
“Just leave me alone,” Jeff said.
“I can’t do that, Jeff. Not without your wishes,” the Djinn said.
Do something, Jeff!
“I just wish to be left the hell alone!” Jeff yelled.
“Granted!” The Djinn’s eyes clouded over, and the light flashed. Jeff could smell something burning in the air; felt the electricity. He closed his eyes, realized what he’d said. But when he opened them… everything looked the same. The Djinn smiled and it was cold and cruel and wild, all at once.
“W-what happened?” Jeff said.
“You’re alone,” the Djinn said.
“You’re still here.”
“Can’t leave without your third wish, I told you. But you are alone, Jeff. Look outside.”
Jeff’s legs wobbled as he stood up and slowly made his way to the front door. He opened the door and gasped at the sight.
Nothing, true nothing. This was a black as deep as the ink that clouded the Djinn’s eyes. No stars or streets or sounds. No people.
“I-I don’t…No!” Jeff stumbled backward and slammed the door closed. His gaze flicked to the trunk. Her body was gone.
It hit him then. She was gone. She died. He was alone.
The Djinn walked down the hall towards him, holding the table lamp.
“I still need-”
Before he could think, Jeff rushed the Djinn, grabbed the stupid table lamp and threw it against the wall.
“I am NOT a pussy. You are just a bully who manipulates and kills. I wish that you and your kind never existed.”
The Djinn’s wide eyes went black. All the lights went out and Jeff heard it.
“Granted.”
And then Jeff woke up…
—
Janelle Chambers spent the majority of her life reading, writing and performing. Her ambition is to be a writer/voice performer/podcaster. It’s only recently she decided to show the world what she can do. She lives in FL but hopes to one day write from a window overlooking a European vineyard
