Only One Wish ~ short story based on hurricane Michael

One Wish Only

By Glenda Reynolds

I awoke from a restless sleep, afraid to face the day. I pushed the fear from my mind as I rose from my bed and changed my clothes. You wouldn’t know it was October. The Florida Panhandle heat was unbearable since we had no electricity to air-condition the house. Breakfast consisted of bottled protein drinks and bagels.

There wasn’t much of a breeze as the temperature climbed to the upper nineties. The humidity added to the pervasive misery. It made you look forward to the sponge bath at day’s end using only one cup of water. We had no running water either. It was as if we were dropped in Hell and had to make the best of it. But then we had no idea about the extent of the damage from hurricane Michael.

My husband Bob and I decided to venture out on foot the day after. All roads going out of the neighborhood were blocked by masses of downed trees and windblown debris. It was a few days before we could even leave our neighborhood. When we were finally able to leave in our truck, we headed east to survey the ravaged city. Block after block we ran over downed power lines. There were missing roofs, crumbled mobile homes, and masses of downed privacy fences. Endless acres of beautiful magnolia trees, large oak trees, and pine trees were snapped in half, uprooted, or left with a permanent bend as if bowing to an evil conqueror. There were no squirrels that frolicked about playing king-of-the-pine-tree. Instead, the wasps flew to close in my personal space as if expressing their anger with the terrible weather event they survived.

     I couldn’t blame them.
     Bob and I arrived at a nearby park to gather pond water to help us with the tasks at home. We needed to conserve bottled water.
    “Honey, is that a person sleeping there on that small hill under the palms?” Bob asked.
    “It looks like it. Let’s see if that person is okay,” I answered with some reservation.
     Sure enough, a young woman was sleeping peacefully on the ground. I nudged her hip to wake her.
    “Ma’am, are you okay?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, but her eyes opened. She had a back-pack on the ground above her head. Was she without a home or traveling? She was probably too embarrassed to talk to us. We left her alone to return to our truck.
    “You want to drive to Under The Oaks Park? Are you curious about how that faired?” I asked my husband.
    “I’m afraid too, but okay. You’re the driver,” he said reluctantly.

We found the park open to the public. It might as well have been closed. We stood contrite at having made the decision to be there. The majestic magnolia and oak trees were stripped from where they once stood, providing a clear view of the bay from the parking lot. It was as if someone told me that a close relative died as I was overcome by grief. Tears welled up in my eyes and those of my husband. The tracks of heavy equipment marred the ground everywhere. There was no walking/running path anymore. Stumps, some with yellow caution tape but mostly without, could be seen everywhere you looked. We were several yards from the bay as I turned to see fast approaching dark clouds swallow the rays of the sun. The silhouettes of disfigured trees reminded me of the book covers from spooky, paranormal novels. The dark clouds seem to extinguish the light in our souls as well as we walked back to the truck. The only sounds were our sobs.

   After we returned home, we resumed the task of picking up the many roof shingles that littered the ground and our shrubs. As I collected broken branches, pine cones, and other debris, a glint of gold caught my eye. I pushed back the broken limbs to discover a gold, old-fashioned oil lamp. I rubbed it with a rag to get the dirt off. This action produced an animated smoke that took a life of its own. It became large, then solid, and finally, a genie appeared near me in the back yard. This was no Middle Eastern genie. This was a Panama City redneck genie, complete with a pot belly, baseball cap, shorts, and flip-flops. He yawned, stretched, and then rubbed his belly. Finally, he noticed me standing there with my mouth opened.
    “Hey!” he drawled.
    “Hi! You are the first genie I’ve ever seen.”
    “Well, it’s your lucky day, isn’t it?”
    “Does this mean that I get three wishes?”
    “Nah, you’ve seen too many movies. I’ll grant you one wish, so make it good.”
    “Okay…,” I said as I thought about the best thing to ask for. “I wish I had a million dollars - in cash!”
    “Your wish is granted, darlin’,” he replied as he reached in his pocket. He pulled out a tiny sack, Barbie doll size. He blew on it, pinched it, and stretched it until it reached normal size. He handed it to me as he smiled, showing a missing front tooth.
    The redneck genie made a giant beach towel appear. It floated above the ground. He took the golden lamp from me, sat on his magic beach towel, and flew into the clouds. I ran into the house and told Bob what had just happened. He thought that the heat had gotten to me until I pulled bundles of money from the sack.
    We could barely go to sleep while thoughts of how to spend the money went through our heads for most of the night. The temperature cooled down enough to allow us to sleep.
    The next morning Bob and I were in agreement. We needed to help our community recover from the hurricane. Our first trip was to the park where we got our pond water. The young woman was still there. We walked softly up the hill and placed a bundle of money near her curled form. Next, we got in touch with the county Parks and Recreation Department to get permission to pay a landscaping company to do stump grinding, level the ground, and plant some trees at Under the Oaks Park. We saw countless business owners standing outside of their businesses as they removed plywood from windows. We gave away tens of thousands for them to get back on their feet. There were many people who lost everything. One woman could be seen through the gaping hole of her residence as she clutched a negligee to her chest. All of her belongings were in trash heaps or blown to the winds. Her face lit up as we handed her a roll of money. We picked the worst houses to visit to give them cash aid until we nearly depleted our funds. There were so many more people to help and not enough money. Churches stood with two-thirds of their roofs missing; they were abandoned.
    I didn’t ask the genie for enough money! I thought sadly to myself.
    Bob sensed how I was feeling. He put his arm around my shoulders saying, “You can’t save the world, sweetie.”
    “I know. It was worth a try though.”
    We had just arrived home when a postal carrier arrived with a certified mail for me. I quickly opened it to see a check for one million dollars. There was also a yellow post-it note which said,
    “I lied. I’m sure you’ll put this to good use.
           Yours truly,
                         Genie.”

*****

Note by author: most of the events at the beginning of this story are true events experienced by the author & spouse. The fictional character was added with things to follow for a monthly writing challenge at Writers 750 Goodreads.