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The Three Wishes

John Ragusa

    At a flea market, Wendall Keefer bought an Arabian lamp. It seemed like a nice antique. He liked its appearance, and it was inexpensive. Wendall wanted something to decorate his den with; it would make it more colorful.
    He took it home with him. He was very careful not to drop and break it.
    On a whim, he rubbed the lamp with his sleeve. To his astonishment, a genie appeared in a puff of smoke. He was bearded and barefoot, and he wore a turban. Wendall pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
    “Where did you come from?” he asked the genie.
    “I came from the bottle you rubbed, naturally.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “I am Abdul. I grant you three wishes.”
    “This is unbelievable!” Wendall said. “Is this an illusion?”
    “No. You are seeing a real genie.”
    “And I can have any three things in the world that I want?”
    “That’s right. You will receive anything you choose.”

    “There’s so many things.”
    “Think hard about the things you want.”
    “I sure could use a million dollars.”
    “Money does not bring happiness.”
    “A beautiful woman would be great.”
    “Beauty is only skin-deep.”
    “All right, then. I want to be famous.”
    “Happy is the man whose annals are blank in the history books.”
    “Well, if I shouldn’t wish for money, a beautiful woman, or fame, what should I wish for?”
    “Ponder that for a few days. I’ll come back to get your answer.” Abdul disappeared.
    “I have to consider what would really be important to me,” Wendall said to himself. “I must decide what would be best for me to have.”
    During the next week, Wendall thought carefully about what he really wanted. He had always been afraid of death; it terrified him to think of spending eternity in the cold, dark ground, with worms eating him. Funerals and cemeteries depressed him. He was petrified when he thought of the Grim Reaper. He would be relieved to know that there is life after death, because, as things stood, he wasn’t sure it existed. He felt that life was far too short. How could he possibly enjoy all the things he wanted to in so little time? It moved too fast; before he knew it, he’d be dead. Then he wouldn’t be able to do anything.

    It occurred to him that he could wish for another hundred years of life. That way, he’d have enough time to do the things he wished to accomplish in life. He’d have the chance to do what he wanted. He could live past everyone else. Death would not come to him until after a long time.
    “I wish to live another hundred years,” Wendall said.
    Abdul appeared again. “Your first wish shall be granted.” And he was gone.
    Wendall laughed. “I will enjoy the next century without having to fret about an accident or illness cutting my life short. It’ll be wonderful!”
    But then he realized that as he grew older, he’d become as wrinkled as a prune. He didn’t want this to happen. So he knew what his second wish would be. He’d wish for a century of life without the look of old age. He could still court young women.
    “I wish that I will not show the signs of aging as I live another hundred years.”
    Abdul showed up in a mist. “Your second wish is fulfilled,” he said. “You now have one wish left. Be careful what you ask for.” He vanished.
    Wendall thought long and hard about what he wanted for his third wish.
    He could ask to become a great writer or a fantastic athlete. That way, he’d have a superb profession. But he would think it over a long time before making his last wish; he had to be certain he wanted what he’d get.
    For the next hundred years, Wendall lived life to the fullest. He truly enjoyed every day. But then he had one day of life left.

    “What can I do now?” he said. “After today, I won’t be able to enjoy life anymore, because I’ll be dead. It’ll all be over for me.”
    Wait a minute. He still had one wish left! And he knew exactly what he would wish for. Of course; he should have thought of it before. It was so very logical.
    Wendall knew he was making the right choice. Hell, it was his only choice.
    “I wish that I will have eternal life!” he said.
    Abdul materialized in the room. “Your third and final wish is granted. Remember, you must live with it.”
    “Don’t worry; I won’t regret my choice.”
    “So be it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He went back into the lamp in a cloud of vapor.
    Wendall could now be happy about everything. It had worked out perfectly. He stood there in his room, pleased and triumphant. But then the house began to tremble and shake. The walls crumbled before his very eyes. There was a huge rumble. The roof caved in, and Wendall was trapped under a pile of rubble. His entire body hurt; he was bleeding profusely.
    It was a terrible earthquake that was taking place. Many people died, but Wendall stayed alive. He was suddenly miserable – and with good reason. His fate was to be buried alive for the rest of eternity. What a way to go!
    Wendall then realized what Abdul had meant when he said to be careful what he wished for.

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