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“All of these,” she says, stuffing her hand into the back pocket of her jeans and pulling out multiple scraps of paper with numbers scrawled across them.
“And this pleases you because you are a number enthusiast?” I ask, puzzled by the significance of these numerals.
“These aren’t just any old numbers. They’re all phone numbers,” she says, an adorable smile lighting up her face. “Seriously, I could go out for dinner every night for the next two weeks.”
“And this is agreeable to you because you dislike preparing dinner,” I say, remembering last night’s fascinating conversation and feeling satisfied with my conclusion.
“No,” she says, snorting out a laugh. “And sorting dinner isn’t exactly a big problem for me anymore,” she says, gesturing toward the space where the pile of burgers once lay and then doing a double take.
“Hey, where have they all gone?”
“I made the assumption you would prefer not to return home to a pile of festering burgers in your kitchen.”
“I thought you couldn’t undo wishes,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I cannot, but I can use magic to transport them to the trash like so,” I say, using my magic to levitate the slips of paper out of her hand.
“Hey, I need those,” she says, leaping into the air and snatching them back.
“Tell me then, Whirlwind. What is so precious about these numbers?”
“They’re precious to me,” she says, and my mouth tugs up into a grin as she mimics my style of speaking, “because these are all guys that want to date me.”
The smile drops from my face like a block of granite, and my body feels so weighed down that floating becomes an effort.
The delight I felt from being the focus of her attention had made me neglect to remember her final wish. Now I want to burn those pieces of paper to ashes.
“I am glad this pleases you,” I say, dutifully forcing out the words and trying not to choke on them.
“Farewell, Whirlwind. I wish you an enjoyable life,” I say, reducing my size to shrink back into my lamp and away from her for the final time.
It would seem it is better not to be treated with worth because the melancholy I feel now is torturous.
“You wish me an enjoyable life. Are you serious? Where are you going?” she asks, and I pause my disappearance.
“You requested to thank me. That request was completed; therefore I was returning to my lamp to wait to be summoned by my next owner.”
“What the hell? So that was it for you? You were just going to say goodbye and go back inside your lamp for good?”
“Each time I have bid you farewell I have believed it to be the final time. The wishes have been granted. My service is complete. This is how it has always been.”
“Wait, so usually people just make their wishes, and that’s it? Just a thank you and then they never speak to you again?”
“Almost, except you are also the first person to have ever thanked me.”
Her mouth falls open, and her eyes flare wide as she gasps.
“So, everyone you’ve ever met has used you? Shit. I’m so sorry, Zeno,” she says, biting down on her lip, and a renewed feeling of wanting to hold her stirs inside of me.
“That is my purpose,” I say, coolly, trying to force a smile that doesn’t come.
“Well, I don’t want to be like everyone else,” she says, and before I can tell her she’s already more special than anyone I’ve met in the past seventy-two thousand years, she’s stomping around the kitchen and filling the air with her endearingly frenetic chatter.
“We’re going to change this pattern. Let’s do something just for you. What do you like Zeno?” she asks, and her question renders me speechless as I stare at this mesmerizing woman full of wonder. Nobody has ever asked me what I enjoy.
“Hello, earth to Zeno. Have you got any hobbies or anything? If you were a regular guy with a body like that, I’d assume you liked to work out, but you manifest those muscles instead of lifting weights, don’t you?”
“That is correct.”
