One Wish per Customer

Mr. Johnson shoved the folded map into his belt pouch, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and wondered when they would get around to inventing pockets. It may be spring, but it felt like summer, and there seemed to be no air conditioning in this entire faire.

“Tavern’s down this way.” He took 8 yr old Princess Elizabeth by the hand and wrapped the other around 6 year old Sir Brian’s ankle. He’d grown tired of walking about three shops out of the petting zoo, and Dad’s shoulders were always more fun, anyway, at least for Brian. As they walked among the afternoon crowds, he chatted with the kids about the unicorn in the petting zoo, and the fairy playing the pipes. It took their mind off the heat and their feet. He firmly believed that costumes were part of what made the renaissance faire so much fun, other people’s and their own. Thus, Brian was proudly sporting his polyester knight’s armor, and Elizabeth skipped along, swishing the skirts of her favorite princess dress.

They reached the tavern, and he whispered a grateful prayer that it was indoors with tables and benches. They took a table under a fan. Indoors didn’t means air conditioning in the 16th century; it meant shade.

“Greetings, my lords and lady, welcome to The Wizard’s Hat, best indoor tavern at the faire! What can I get for ye?” The waitress, dressed in traditional corset style dress with colorful layered skirts. The streaks of blue hair may not have been historically accurate, but they were fun, and fun was the whole point, especially for a family of young children.

“Three waters, to start, please. Do you have menus?”

“We do, m’lord.” She handed him a printed menu of creatively named dishes, and laid down paper copies of children’s menus with a few rough hand-molded wax crayons. “I’ll get those waters for ye while ye look ‘em over. Take your time.”

He looked over Sir Brian’s shoulder as he colored. There were pictures of burgers, hot dogs, nuggets, even a slice of pizza, each with a cheerful medieval figure. Brian had set his wooden sword on the table and was coloring the dragon green. The waitress soon returned with the waters.

“Made up your minds, m’lord?”

“Yes, thank you.” He took a quick swig of the cool water. “He’ll have dragon nuggets. What comes with that?”

“My lord, every prince or princess meal comes with potato swords, fruit, or chips, and a magical surprise.” Her flamboyant brogue accent vanished as she leaned in. “The potato swords are french fries.” She winked.

Elizabeth piped up. “I want a magical surprise!”

“You’ll get one,” he assured her. “Nuggets or Cheeseburger?”

“Cheeseburger,” she answered, her head back down over her coloring.

“Ok, dragon nuggets with, uhm, potato swords, for him, and ‘royal burger’ with fruit for her.”

“Very good, m’lord, and what about yourself?”

“Oh.” He’d completely forgotten to pick his own meal. He scanned the creative descriptions in the menu quickly. “Bangers and mash, please.” He turned to the drinks menu. “And a ‘Dragon’s Blood Potion.’” The sparkling fruit drink sounded quite refreshing after the dusty morning. The waitress took his menu, and he leaned back against the wooden railing. The breeze from the fan cooled his skin in the shade of the restaurant. He watched as pirates, pixies, and peasants strolled along the thoroughfare. The children colored quietly. The muscles in his shoulders relaxed in this respite from the children riding and tugging on him. In the distance, he heard the crash of a pair of jousting knights on horseback and a cheer from the crowd. On a day like this, one could almost believe in magic.

“Here we are, loves!” The waitress set a carved wooden box in front of each of the children. The boxes looked for all the world like treasure chests the size of a shoebox. Carved bands painted to look like black iron cured over the top and around the edges. The front bore a large, round dial of symbols. The children oohed and aahed, and he joined them with pure sincerity. “Your lunch time treasure be locked, loves. Look on the back of your menu,” she hinted with a wink. The children hurriedly flipped over their menus, and worked on the puzzle, while the waitress set a tall red drink in front of him. “And this be your goblet of dragon blood, m’lord. I’ll be right back with your meal.” She left.

Image by K-E-Coverdesign from Pixabay;

The fruity drink was cool and delicious, but he didn’t have long to enjoy it before Sir Brian had found the solution.

“It’s the wizard!” He turned his dial so that the wizard faced up, and opened the lid. As fast as the lid had opened, his drew out his ‘magical surprise’ and immediately lost interest. “Aw, it’s just an egg.” He set it down and reached back into the chest for his fries.

Mr. Johnson picked up the egg out of curiosity. It was an odd, but lovely metallic color, and the ceramic was still hot from being next to the food. He set it back down, and patted the boy’s shoulders. “Not bad for a kids meal, though.”

“What is this?”

He looked over to Elizabeth, who was holding up a tiny bottle, no bigger than her thumb. At first glance, it appeared to be filed with sand, but as he watched, the contents swirled inside. She rubbed it, peering closely, and it shook. The little cork popped out, and purple smoke poured forth. From the smoke emerged the top half of a tiny, bearded, purple man.

“Salutations, princess. I am the genie of the bottle, and I grant you one wish.”

Before he could stop himself, or question what he’d been drinking, Mr. Johnson blurted out. “Only one wish? I thought genies gave three wishes.”

The tiny man, whose lower half was obscured in the cloud of purple smoke, rotated around to face him, and raised a miniscule eyebrow. “Honored sir, when was the last time you got a full sized prize out of a kids meal?” He rotated back around to face Elizabeth.

“That’s so cool! I want a genie like that!”

It never failed. Whatever one child got was automatically better than what the other had.

“I don’t think she gets to keep the genie, Bri.”

“Certainly not,” agreed the genie. “Only the wish. The chest is also an extra charge if you want to take it home, by the way.”

“Naturally.” It was a nice chest, though, he thought to himself.

“I wish for a million dollars!” cried Elizabeth.

“I am sorry, princess.” The genie spread his empty hands. “Wishes are limited to a $5 value.”

The genie looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “Kids meal.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and thought hard. “Can I wish for purple hair, like your smoke?”

“Oh, Elizabeth, I don’t think mom would like-”

“Your wish is my command!”

The genie folded his arms and nodded his head. Elizabeth’s chestnut brown hair shimmered and from her scalp, slowly converted into a vibrant purple color. The hue flowed down her locks like water soaking into paper. By the look on her face, she could feel it before she could see it. She grabbed a hank of her hair and pulled it out in front of her face to watch the color fade in all the way to the tips. She squealed in delight as it finished, every hair on her head perfectly purple. His wife would never believe it wasn’t his fault.

The genie bowed in mid air. “Enjoy your wish, princess. You may keep the bottle as a souvenir.” He smiled over his shoulder at dad. With a spin, the smoke became a foot tall tornado, and then wafted apart, and faded off into the breeze, leaving his purple-haired daughter holding the tiny empty bottle.

“Dad, can I trade my egg for a genie?”

He looked down to Brian, unsure even what answer he wanted to give, and held up a palm to stop his sister from sticking out her tongue at him. Then the egg cracked. All three of them looked at it, and then it cracked again. A small piece was knocked out onto the table by a little golden claw. The claw pushed out of the hole, revealing golden scales on a little arm. The arm withdrew and was replaced by a golden reptilian snout.

“It couldn’t be…”

The snout sneezed an inch long flame, and broke the top off the egg. It climbed out of the shell, and laid its head on Brian’s hand. Brian slowly reached out with his other hand to pet the little golden dragon, and it curled its tail around his prone wrist, and closed its eyes.

“Sorry for the wait there, m’lord. We’re busy today!” The waitress was back, and set a plate of bangers and mash in front of him. She laid the check on the table. “Let me know if there’s anything else you’ll be needing. Nice hair, princess.” She hurried off to a table just sitting down.

“Dad, no fair!” Elizabeth was watching her brother. “I want a dragon, too!”

“Eat your lunch, dear.” He wondered if, perhaps next time, he could order from the kids menu.

Image by Alan Frijns from Pixabay