WhiskeyBottleLover (5 page)

“I don’t know. I never wished for anything.”

Hayes laughed. “Sure you have. Everyone wishes for
somethin’. New clothes, a bigger house, more money, love.”

“Nope. I learned very young if you wanted something, you did
what you had to do to get it. I can’t recall a time when I actually sat down
and wished for something.”

“Not even a family to call your own?”

Without missing a beat, she responded, “Nope. I do a good
job taking care of myself. I don’t need anyone. As for a house, I like this
one. It’s simple, cozy and suits me. Clothes have never been my thing and money
is only a state of mind as far as I’m concerned. As for love, never experienced
it so like you said, you can’t miss what you never had.”

Well, hell. He never ran into anyone this content with their
life. “You have to make three wishes, Chance.”

“I’ll think about it.” She leaned back in her chair and put
her slim hand over her flat tummy. “I’m stuffed. Thank you for the cake. I
haven’t indulged like that in a long time.”

“You’re welcome.” This had to be the first time anyone
showed appreciation for something he’d done.

Chance rose from the table, took her glass of wine, wandered
into the living room and sat on the couch. Hayes took care of the dishes and
covered the cake so they could enjoy it later. Unsure what to do next, he
strolled into the other room.

“Mind if I join you?”

“What happens if I don’t make a wish?” she asked, motioning
for him to sit. “I mean, what if let you out and simply walk away? What happens
to you?”

The knowledge rushed from his invisible shackles, filling
his brain with the consequences. He would fade into oblivion and she would be
forced to take his place. His miserable existence would end but hers would
simply begin. “Nothin’ pleasant for either of us,” he muttered.

“Tell me, I want to know.”

Curious as to how she would react, he answered, “I would
fade into oblivion, poof, gone.”

Chance frowned. “That sucks.”

“For me, yeah. I may not enjoy this life but the hope of
bein’ free keeps me goin’.”

“You can be freed?”

Did he detect a hint of excitement in her voice? “Yep.”

“How?”

Hayes shook his head. “Don’t matter, Chance. It’ll never
happen so I don’t think about it.” Lying left a sour taste in his mouth,
especially with her, but he’d gone the route of high hopes and the crash, well,
he didn’t like how it felt. “Ya know, if you have things to do I won’t take
offense if you do them. Pretend like I’m not here, that is until you’ve decided
on your wishes.”

She sat her wineglass down and ran her hands through her
hair. He liked the way it fell in a silky cascade, the way the light shimmered
off the auburn highlights, a truly beautiful woman with many assets. In his
time she’d be married to the wealthiest man, living a good life and wanting for
nothing. Yet here she lived alone and quite content with her life.

“You keep staring at me and it’s making me fidgety,” she
muttered.

“My apologies. I can’t help but marvel at the way women have
changed over the years.” He especially liked the way the clothing had evolved.
Women in this time wore tight-fitting shirts and trousers that accentuated
their bodies. Chance had a very pleasing body. How long had it been since he
held a soft woman against his hard, haggard one? Too damn many years. Best not
dwell on that, it would only frustrate him further.

Needing to remove himself from her presence for a bit, Hayes
stood, stretched his legs and shoved his hands down into the pockets of his
jeans. “Think I’ll do a little explorin’ for a while. Give you some time to
digest all this and maybe think on a wish. If you want me to return all you
have to do is rub my bottle, it’ll bring me back.”

Chance watched him closely as he spoke and then nodded. “You
won’t get into any trouble, will you? I mean, I’m not going to have to come
bail you out of jail or anything?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. Even if he did find himself in
trouble, he couldn’t be held in any mortal prison. Nah, his penitentiary sat on
the counter smelling of old whiskey. “Don’t worry your mind about that. I avoid
trouble at all cost. Remember if you want me to return, rub the bottle.” With
that, he transported himself outside into the darkness.

Hayes took a deep breath of the crisp night air and let it
fill his body. Chance didn’t appear to be rushing into making a wish, so he had
time to check out how much the world changed over the last fifty years. Who knew,
if greed ran as rampant in this time as he suspected, maybe he could find
someone to wish him free. All it would take was a well-suggested white lie.

Alone now, Chance took a much needed, deep breath and
relaxed back into the couch. She still couldn’t comprehend all this. Genies
didn’t exist. They were myths, legends, stuff of fairy tales. Yet she’d seen
him emerge from the bottle, watched as the mist formed him into a living man.
He talked, seemed intelligent and he ate her food, for crying out loud.

“Ugh.” Why her? Why did she have to pick up that damn
bottle? She liked her ordinary life with no complications. This situation
couldn’t get any more complex.

Maybe that mist actually was a toxic concoction and none of
what happened over the last hour really happened. It would make sense. She
never dabbled in drugs but she’d heard stories and this sure as hell sounded
like a trip. Bad, bad trip. Chance rose from the couch and wandered into the
kitchen.

Well, the cake he made appear still sat there with two
pieces cut out. She didn’t make it. She went to the cupboard and all the dishes
were there. She didn’t wash any of them and she could still smell the foul,
sour alcohol lingering in the air. Genies didn’t exist.

Maybe if she said it enough all this would go away. In the
morning it would seem like a bizarre dream and she could laugh about it.
Wouldn’t Jenny get a kick out of her vivid imagination?

Still, deep inside she knew no matter how much she lied to
herself, it wouldn’t change the facts. The man appeared in her house. The
bottle leapt from her hand, hung in the air and uncorked itself. All that
happened before the green mist rolled out. So that much she couldn’t push off
on being drugged. Chance rubbed her temples, trying to release the tension
building there.

Okay, so the man claimed to be a genie. What did she know
about them? Absolutely nothing. Easy enough to remedy. She went to her bedroom,
grabbed her laptop and sat down at the table. A little research seemed to be in
order.

Two hours later she sat hunkered over, her face mere inches
from the screen and her head reeling from the information she’d amassed from
the internet. Some of it seemed to be pure fiction but other pieces matched
perfectly to what he’d told her. Imagine that, genies did exist, or at least
the people who wrote these articles believed they did.

She eventually came across an article that warned any
master
of a genie about making wishes. Items that were wished for had to come from
somewhere. For example, if you wished for money, it had to be taken from a bank
or another person to be given to you. In a roundabout way, stealing. Well, that
didn’t sound right, not to her anyway. Others may not have a problem with that.

Another section warned against wishing for fame. Fame didn’t
exactly mean untold riches and happiness. In reality, it meant your every move
would be monitored by the public, reported on for entertainment. Who the hell
wanted that?

In horror, she skimmed a section that told of masters
wanting power over others. They got the power but in the end they also received
everything that came with it. Hate, vengeance and ultimately death at the hands
of those who were controlled. The more she read, the more she realized this
genie and wishing business could be dangerous.

Okay, she got the message loud and clear. Karma played a
large part in this risky game. You got what you wanted, but tenfold. “Careful
what you wish for, you might get it,” she muttered. What about the story he
gave her about being wished free? Was there any truth to that?

Her fingers flew across the keyboard but she found very
little on that matter. So Hayes had reason to believe it wouldn’t happen for
him. How sad. Chance yawned, laid her head down and stared at the depiction of
a genie on her screen. He didn’t look anything like the man who claimed to be
her genie. No similarities at all. This guy looked exotic, regal, too damn
pretty for her taste. Arrogance rolled from his drawn features.

Hayes had an antique Southern charm along with rugged
masculinity. A gentleman if there were actually such a thing. She could almost
see him living in the eighteen hundreds. Her eyelids lowered, slow to open
again. Yeah, she bet the women of those small towns did their share of looking
when he rode by. Who wouldn’t? She yawned again, blinked and this time her eyes
didn’t open.

* * * * *

After a night of casual observance, Hayes decided this
wouldn’t be a bad time to live in. Better than fifty years ago. It would take
some learning but he could figure out how to operate these handheld devices
everyone talked into. Even the automobiles were plentiful. Hell, he remembered
being around when the first ones rolled onto the road. Learning to drive one,
well, he’d risk it.

He certainly liked the independent, self-sufficient ladies
of this time period. He always liked a woman with brains. That reminded him, he
should be getting back to Chance. He could only stray so far before being drawn
back to his master and bottle. Tonight he pushed those boundaries.

Hayes materialized back in her kitchen and found Chance
sleeping, her face crunched up against her arm and the table. She’d been using
one of those strange electric devices with words and pictures on the screen. A
computer if he recalled right. He grinned when he saw what she’d been reading
about. It didn’t surprise him in the least that Chance would find out as much
as she could about genies.

The smile faded. Exactly how much could be found out? There
were things she didn’t need to know, secrets he needed to maybe one day free
himself. It wouldn’t do to have this little woman discovering his weaknesses.
As he studied her face he thought maybe he had her all wrong. This woman, she
didn’t intend to harm anyone. Live and let live, that’s the way she looked at
things. He learned a great deal about her through their sparse conversation.

She had every reason to despise this world, being abandoned
as a baby, raised by multiple families, never having anything to call her own.
He’d seen people with plenty whining they still didn’t have enough. Time would
tell though. After her first wish, he’d know if Chance was unique in this world
or the same as the rest.

Right now, though, he couldn’t let her sleep all crumpled up
like this. He whisked them both back into her room, settled her down on the bed
and pulled the covers up, all without touching one hair on her body. With a
simple thought he doused the lights and was caught by the sight of her in the
silver stream of moonlight beaming through the window.

He’d never had the pleasure of meeting an honest-to-goodness
angel, but from the knowledge he absorbed through his shackles he knew what
they looked like. Chance, she resembled one. Innocence and wisdom, kindness and
a raw toughness, it all reflected on her pretty face.

Hayes stood there in the dark, watching her sleep, wondering
what it would be like to have a woman like her to call his own. A sense of
loneliness overcame him, filling his chest with a heavy weight. Beneath that
crushing heaviness another feeling emerged. One of quick desire, hot and
consuming. Somehow he knew if he crawled into bed with her, ran his hands down
her lush, satin body and caressed her flesh with his mouth, she would melt into
an orgasmic puddle. He knew exactly where to place his lips, too. The need for
her grew until his body hardened and his brain whirled inside his skull.

Scrubbing his face with calloused hands, he quickly inhaled
and let the air release from his lungs in a slow, steady stream. What the hell
was going on? He couldn’t afford this line of thinking. Reeling from the
onslaught of bizarre emotion, he struggled but managed to push it all aside.
Staying focused on reality would be his only saving grace.

Quietly, Hayes left the room. Deciding to take this time and
learn something and put his mind back on course, he wandered around, checked
out her humble living space and marveled at some of the furnishing she had.
Chance had unique tastes. Her collection of antiques and modern pieces made for
interesting décor. He’d been around, seen a lot, but nothing like the lamps and
knickknacks she had.

He remembered seeing a barn outside so he transported
himself inside it. Instantly he felt her here. This small, rustic space, this
was where she found happiness. It hung in the air like a rainbow full of bright
color. Hayes let the positive atmosphere wrap around him, sink in until he
couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

She had a pile of wood stacked in one corner, old timber
obviously rescued from a torn-down building and a few wood spools. On a
workbench she had strips of metal laid out in different stages of polish. He
strolled over, laid his hand on the metal and felt its smoothness. She created
in this barn. He felt that now, could sense the painstaking work lingering
around the bench.

Glancing around, he found other projects half-finished,
electric lights made from old gas lanterns, wooden storage boxes being
refinished and decorated, even some barbed wire twisted around old fence posts
with lights fixed inside the mass. What an incredible mind Chance had. It
seemed she could look at anything and see endless possibilities for its use.

“You’re a remarkable woman,” he whispered, careful not to
disturb the positive vibes she’d filled the barn with.

Maybe when she woke he could convince her to share some of
her imagination with him. A rustling sound outside caught his attention. Hayes
stood perfectly still and listened. This time the handle on the barn door
rattled. Maybe Chance woke up and came looking for him? Didn’t seem likely. He
looked up into the rafters, spotted a perfect perch to hide and watch and
popped himself to it.

The door opened slowly and a man entered. Hayes frowned.
Chance hadn’t hinted at having a man in her life and freely admitted to not
having family. So who was this sneaking around her barn in the dark? He looked
a bit older than her, maybe by ten years or so, a little paunchy around the
waist and tall. In the darkness Hayes couldn’t tell if the man’s hair was black
or brown but he wore it short.

The intruder walked around, touched everything, snooped
through boxes and inspected her pieces. At one point he chuckled and tossed a
little horse figurine to the other side of the barn. Hayes’ hackles went up.
The man had no right to damage her belongings. He had half a mind to jump down
and ask the guy what his story was. No, he couldn’t intrude, not like that. It
went against the rules.

The man made his way back to the barn door, walked through
it and closed the place up. Hayes wasn’t sure this guy had finished his
sneaking around and felt compelled to observe further. With a clear thought, he
appeared outside in the darkest shadows and watched as this intruder made his
way toward the house. Damn it, he couldn’t actually do anything to stop the man
from breaking in. Or could he?

Rules stated a genie couldn’t physically interfere in a
chain of events, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cause something else to
obstruct the process. The intruder headed toward Chance’s bedroom window.
Wouldn’t it be interesting if a herd of deer came stampeding through this
particular area? The mere thought produced thirty animals all on a dead run
toward the house.

Hayes slipped farther into the shadows. The man turned his
head at the sound of hooves thundering across the ground. Instead of making
tracks away from the house, the bastard ran for the front porch. After a silent
curse, Hayes produced a swarm of bats and a large cloud of bugs that happened
to hover around the light on the porch.

The guy ducked, covered his head and made little squeak
sounds as he tried to figure out how to escape the bats without being trampled
by the deer. He finally ran to the end of the porch, jumped over the railing
and pressed himself up against the side of the building. That wouldn’t do.
Hayes pictured thousands of slithering bugs on the siding.

It took a moment but the bastard eventually realized he was
being overtaken by the insects. Slapping at himself as he ran from the house,
the intruder disappeared into the darkness. Hayes stifled a chuckle, made sure
to reward the deer with plenty of food deep in the woods and put the wormy-like
bugs back where they came from. Once the bats consumed all the bugs around the
light, they took flight high into the sky and returned to their normal nightly
adventures.

Satisfied with the outcome, Hayes stepped out of the shadows
and was struck by a burning pain deep in his gut. His knees buckled, dropping
him to the ground as he held his middle with his arms. Even his wrists seemed
to be blistering where the invisible shackles were.

“I get it,” he groaned and then panted, trying to draw air
into his lungs. Sweet Jesus, he had an inferno going on inside his gut. “Okay,
lesson learned.”

As fast as it came on, it vanished. Hayes fell forward to
his hands and knees, gasping for air as the remnants of the pain subsided.
Eventually the only discomfort he noticed was around his wrists. After
transporting himself back inside the house, he turned on a light and held out
his arms. Huge, ugly, angry blisters circled his wrists.

He tried to fix the damage but no amount of genie power
worked. No, it wouldn’t, he finally accepted. The scars would serve as a
reminder, he supposed, not to interfere in a master’s life. Going through
Chance’s kitchen drawers turned up a few towels. He wet them and then sat down
at the table and draped them over his burned flesh. It helped but the painful
sting remained.

Sitting quietly, Hayes pondered the mistake he’d made.
Although he didn’t interfere directly, he did impede another’s actions. It
didn’t seem to matter if a master did this but he couldn’t use his own free
will. Christ, this life had reached its limits for him. He hated it and right
now he wouldn’t care about being sucked into an oblivious dark chasm, never to
exist again. A man could only take so much.