A Good Book

The snow was falling outside the window of the old bookstore. You could tell the store was old from the mold in every corner and the smell of cats. As I sifted through each bookshelf, I could tell most of these books haven’t been looked at in years because they were dusty, and their spines were slowly falling apart like little old ladies.

My long chestnut hair fell over my ocean blue eyes as my fingers continued to comb over each title. The books on the top shelf always intrigued me since it was a challenge for me to reach up and grab one. I practically had to jump because of my short stature. Those books were especially dusty though and I didn’t want to deal with reaching them today.

Usually, I would have found a book that interested me by now, but nothing seemed to feel like the right one. I needed to find a book that I could easily read while curled up on the couch next to the fire. I wanted a book that would make me feel like I was a cliche.

After a few hours of not finding anything, I made my way to the door feeling defeated. The older lady standing behind the counter took her nose out of her book and looked up. Her eyes reminded me of the sky, but they were giving me a sharp glass look.

“You didn’t find anything dear?” she asked as her sharp look relaxed a little.

“No, ma’am. I wish I could have found one, but nothing caught my eye today,” I say turning again towards the door. She stiffened at the word wish, but then held up her hand as if to tell me to wait one moment. She bent down under the counter and a few moments later came up with a book in hand. She waved me over and I walked towards her unsure of why she was being so secretive.

“This is for you,” she said pushing the book towards me and smiling ear to ear.

The outside of the book was entitled “Three Wishes” and as I flipped through it I noticed each page contained a name and three sentences all beginning with “I wish”. I laughed a little and set it back down.

“Why are you laughing?” she said quietly.

“This is obviously a book you give to children so they can write down their wishes, and I am no child,” I said standing up a little straighter.

This time the woman was the one laughing as she spoke, “For children? Oh no, definitely not. This book chooses the person. And it chose you.” The woman flipped to a page that was blank other than my name in bold letters at the top. Rosemary Thompson.

I stepped back slightly in shock, “You just wrote that? Just now?” The lady shook her head no and picked up the book.

She shoved it into my hands and said, “You have three wishes. Begin each with “I Wish”. Only wish on your page and make no more than three. You do not have to make all your wishes at once, but after your third wish you must bring the book back here immediately; if you disobey any of the rules the book will certainly make you regret it. Now go before it gets too dark outside. And never make a wish in the dark.”

I turned quickly with the book in hand, anxious to go home. Then realizing what she said I whipped around to ask why I couldn’t wish in the dark, but she was gone.

The way home was paved with street lights every few steps. I had no reason to be scared, but I was a little jumpy thinking about the old woman and the book. The book. I was still holding the book. Examining it I turned it over a couple times. The outside of it was a smooth leather, but nothing about it seemed...magical. I stopped under a street light flipping slowly through it. Reading each name carefully and seeing their wishes. Many wished for money or some type of power, but one wish, in particular, caught my eye. Running my fingertips over it as I read out loud “I wish that those who use this book do not doubt its power.”

Suddenly the street light over me flickered. Slowly looking up I saw all the lights behind me had gone out. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach dropped to my feet.

“It’s just a coincidence,” I said to myself. As I walked back home a bit faster each street light I passed went out as I walked by. I ran. I ran all the way until I reached the front porch where my mother sat waiting. Walking up the porch steps I thought about telling her everything, but instead, I managed a half smile and walked inside. She followed close behind me.

“You’re late,” she said quietly. I looked down and mumbled an unapologetic “sorry” while hiding the book behind my back.

“Were you at that bookstore again?” she asked suddenly on edge. I didn’t answer.

“I told you to stop going there. The people there aren’t as they seem,” she said in a knowing tone. I mumbled “sorry” again and walked back to the bedroom.

I set the book on the nightstand and laid down promising myself that I’d wait until morning. But my eyes wouldn’t close and my mind wouldn’t stop racing. The only thing consuming my thoughts was that book. I had so many unanswered questions about it. The one that stood out the most was why could I not wish in the dark? What would happen? Would the book turn evil or what? The book seemed to be calling out to me in the dark. And I was going to answer; as I reached over to pick the book up I flipped the lamp on.

Opening the book, I flipped to the page with my name. A wind rushed through the room, but no windows were opened. Taking a deep breath, I reached for a pen that was sitting on the nightstand. I clicked it a few times trying to decide if I should disobey the old lady's warning. Unsure of what to do I closed the book just to open it a few moments later and pressing the pen to the paper I wrote my first wish: “I wish I had a good book to read….nothing could go wrong with that.” And just like that, a book was sitting on my nightstand. I picked it up unsure of how wishing in the dark was bad. All it did was bring me a book. I began reading, but as I read I realized this book was a good story. With some awful events.

Hearing a crash outside I bolted up and ran to the window. A man was outside swinging a baseball bat in his hand, but this bat was covered in blood. I screamed bloody murder and he began running towards my window. My mother's footsteps on the floor above me shake the house. And her breathing can be heard throughout the house. It’s quick and sounded frightened. She’s screaming my name, but it sounds muffled. Glancing back at the window I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. I have to make him go away. She can’t see this man.

I bolted towards the bed where the book was sitting and began writing another wish. The handwriting was sloppy, but it read “ I wish he was dead.” A loud bang caused me to look back towards the window. The man was standing right in front of my window when his bat seemed to be brought to life. It flew up in the air and began smashing the man's skull in. All I saw through my tears was red. Everywhere.

There was blood smeared across the window and a crack in the glass. Walking slowly over to the window with tears streaming down my face I looked out. The man was laying on the ground with his head bashed in completely. That book. It did this. The lights in my room were flickering and shining bright red. No doubt from that stupid book. I heard my mother outside my door. Suddenly the room was dark again.

My mother barged into my room with sweat dripping down her face.

“What happened?” she said obviously exhausted.

“Nothing... I just had a bad dream. Nothing to worry about,” I say trying to block the window with my body. Her face reeked of concern, but I couldn’t tell her. She shifted nervously looking around the room and trying to figure out why I was being weird. Her eyes stopped and locked on the book that was still laying on my bed.

“Where did you get that?” she said in a shaky tone.

“I…,” I began before she cut me off.

“Did you get that from the bookstore?” she asked walking towards it nervously.

“Yeah.. I’m sorry. I know you don’t like me going there, but I don’t think it’s a bad place. I love going there,” I say trying to defend myself.

She picks the book up with shaky hands and strokes the cover just as I had when the old lady at the store first handed it to me. A slight smile became painted across her face. And her eyes began to water as she clutched the book closer to her heart almost as if she was hugging it like an old friend. The book seemed to glow and began radiating a slight heat as if it was hugging back. It began to make a purring noise and she giggled.

“Mom?”, I ask raising one eyebrow slightly; as she turned to me I saw a single tear run down her cheek. With the book still in hand, she walked towards me and embraced me in a hug. I could feel the warm book press against my heart and it continued to purr and vibrate slightly reminding me of when a cat tries to cuddle up to you.

“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked.

Wiping the tear from her cheek she smiled and said “Just..it’s been a long time since I’ve seen this book.

My jaw felt as if it dropped to the floor.

“You’ve seen the book before?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes, of course. Why do you think I didn’t want you going to that bookstore. I made the mistake of wishing in the dark. And while my wish brought me you, it also took away your father. It’s very bittersweet for me and I didn’t want you to have to go through anything like that,” she spoke halfheartedly.

“Why are you not sadder about dad being gone?” I asked, unsure of if I wanted to know the answer.

Her eyes softened as she spoke, “While your father loved me very much he wasn’t the best man. He would get himself into significant trouble which would usually get me into trouble as well. So I wished to have a child no matter what the cost. And the cost was your father being taken away. Which was a curse, but also kind of a blessing.”

“Oh..,” I said in hesitation.

The room went quiet and we were left just the two of us staring at one another. My eyes panned to the window behind me as I was trying to look at anything, but her. Her eyes followed mine. She let out a blood-curdling scream. I did my best to run over and try and get her to calm down. We didn’t need any of the neighbors to hear; after a few moments, she settled down. Her brown hair covered her face and she pushed it away as she got up and tried to take a few deep breaths.

“Did the book do this? Did you wish in the dark Rosemary?” she asked as her eyes became wide with both wonder and fear. I shook my head yes and began to shuffle my feet slightly.

“Okay, it’s okay. We can fix this sweetie. We can fix this. It’s going to be fine. Sure we may get blamed for this man’s death, but we can do this. We can...we can… we can hide the body! Or burn it and bleach everything,” she said as she began pacing around the room trying to figure out what we could possibly do. I just sat down and waited.

Sitting on the edge of my bed the sun's rays began to hit us as we realized our fate. As we were bathed in a warm glow neither of us could figure out how to dispose of the man and clean the blood without the entire neighborhood finding out; as if it could sense our pain the book began to pulsate a bright light. Then I remembered. I have one last wish...and it’s finally day again. After I slipped into something more comfortable I grabbed the book and wrote my last wish.

I took the book and made my way outside. The man was lying dead on the ground and I saw neighbors emerging from their houses with looks of horror. That’s when I began to run. My mother called after me with fear in her voice, but I continued to run. Nothing was going to stop me now. I ran all the way back to the bookstore and I slammed the book onto the counter. The old lady emerged. After flipping to my page in the book and reading my final wish she wept a small tear and then looked up at me. She snapped her fingers and...

The snow was falling outside the window of the old bookstore. You could tell the store was old from the mold in every corner and the smell of cats...