A Beautiful Wish Ch. 00

"Um... like I told Jack, I don't mind if you use the pool as long as you don't break too many rules. Pool closes in an hour..."

"Oh my!" she gasped. "What happened to your eye? That looks so painful!"

Like Karen, she tried to move his hair out of the way to get a better look. He immediately recoiled. He turned his left eye out of view. "It's no big deal really, this deck gets slippery sometimes and I hit my eye on the bleachers after a spill. Happens all the time."

But Jack and Jennifer looked genuinely concerned. Jennifer returned to Jack's side and the two looked at him in silence for a few seconds. Feeling very embarrassed, George just turned away and said, "I'll let you know when I have to close up."

He walked back to his place on the bleachers. Though he liked these people, he didn't want more pity. He just wanted to get through the day so he could spend his weekend alone, in peace. The couple seemed to realize that they had got all they were going to get out of George. They found a place across the pool from him to set down their belongings.

Despite their early enthusiasm, the couple didn't seem to do much swimming. They just waded in the shallow end, staying very close to each other, never breaking physical contact. George envied them. He paid close attention to the intimate way they touched and embraced. They were completely in love and every action seemed to reaffirm it. Eventually, they stopped moving all together, and just held each other in the far corner of the pool. From his angle George could see Jennifer's face as she looked intently into Jack's eyes. They looked like they were having a very important discussion. But there were no words.

George got the impression that what he was witnessing was very private and sacred, that he shouldn't be watching them anymore. He turned away, and shifted his attention to the last vestiges of the fading light. He felt compelled to make a wish, something that he hadn't dared do since he lost his father. He wished that someday, he could find a love like the one they had. He wished someone would look into his eyes the way Jennifer looked into Jack's. Without thinking, George began to hum his song again. This time, it had its intended effect. He still felt miserable, but now he knew what true love looked like. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get him through the day.

Eventually, seven o'clock rolled around, and George announced that he had to shut down the pool. The two swimmers quickly dried themselves off and headed towards the locker room. Before leaving, Jack walked up to George and shook his hand again. "Thanks again for letting us use the pool, Genie here can get a little impulsive at times." Jennifer gave him a playful nudge in his ribs and giggled.

"It's no problem, I'm glad you guys came actually," said George. "This place can get a little lonely in the afternoon."

Jennifer left Jack's side and strode slowly towards George. With grace he had never witnessed, she moved her hands to his face and gazed lovingly into his soul. George was paralyzed, not by fear, but by some enchantment emanating from her eyes. She leaned forward softly and kissed his cheek.

She traveled to his ear, and whispered, "The most beautiful wishes always come true."

She backed away from him until she was at Jack's side. "Good luck, George. I hope I see you again someday." She waved, and the two left quickly and quietly.

George stood there dumbfounded. What had happened didn't feel real. It felt like a dream, and he found himself at a loss to remember everything that had just happened. Details about the two seemed to disappear as quickly as he could latch onto them. The last thing he could remember of them before all memory of their passing was erased, was her eyes. He couldn't forget those eyes. But even as he swore not to, they too were gone. He was alone again, as surely as the couple had never existed.

Feeling suddenly empty but not understanding why, he looked up at the clock and realized that it was time to close the pool. He made his final rounds and as he approached the far corner of the pool, he noticed that someone had left behind a strange stringed instrument. It resembled a guitar in that it had frets and strings, with knobs to tune them. But the odd little guitar had two smaller wooden acoustic chambers instead of one. Stretched across the face was some sort of animal skin that George could not place. At the top was a masterfully carved ivory image of a woman.

Dismayed by the fact that lost and found was closed, and leaving it there over the weekend would by no means guarantee that it would still be there on Monday, he decided to take it home with him. Maybe on Monday he could find the strange soul who would leave such a beautiful object behind. He finished putting everything away and headed home.

His house was dark. With his mother and sisters gone for the weekend, his home felt cold and derelict. Even when he turned on the lights in the kitchen and started making a turkey sandwich for dinner, the house felt like nobody had lived in it for years. He guessed that his mood was influencing his perception in some way and he forced the feeling from his mind. Instead, he got out the strange looking guitar and examined it more closely.

Again his attention was drawn to the carving of the woman at the top. It was almost hypnotic in its complexity. The woman's hair was so well realized that it almost seemed to move. She was at a profile view, her eyes were closed, and her hands were folded together as if she were praying. She wore a heavenly, contented smile. George reached out and traced the lines in the carving with his large fingers and imagined for a second that the woman in the carving was real.

He then examined the different sweeping patterns on the underside of the instrument, which blended around its curves. They rose as one up the frets and melded into the woman's hair at the top. There were no identifying marks from any company, or a "Made in China" plastered on the bottom. He thought that it must have been very old.

Again, he tried to remember who had been at the pool that day. Try as he might, he couldn't remember anyone entering the pool during the afternoon shift. Surely it wasn't something one of the kids brought in for show and tell; a child couldn't really appreciate something so well made. George took a look around to see if anyone was watching him, which he immediately thought to be stupid since he was completely alone, then strummed one of the strings lightly.

It sounded strangely familiar to George even though it was unlike any instrument he had ever heard before. It made a harsher sound than his own guitar, but after he plucked a few more notes in succession it became quite soothing.

He finished his sandwich and took the strange instrument up the stairs to his bedroom. He tried very hard to remember who had been at the pool that day. It wasn't there when he started his third shift, he was quite certain of that. Yet no one had come in all afternoon. Eventually, he figured it didn't really matter. He would surely find whoever it was on Monday.

He ignored the instrument and logged on to his computer. He checked his email (there wasn't any), then went to his favorite video game news site and started checking out the day's articles. He became bored with this quickly and glanced back at the odd guitar as it leaned against his desk. The face on the top seemed to be moving, but when he blinked and looked more closely nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. He decided he needed to leave it alone, so he picked it up and placed it on top of his bookcase. He sat back down at his desk and played a video game on his computer. Absently, he hummed his tune. A few hours went by in blissful escapism.

During a break in the action on screen, he reached for his desk lamp to turn down the light when he noticed that the little guitar was leaning against his desk again, the woman facing him. He leapt up from his chair and backed away from it. After a few moments of panic, he began making sense of his thoughts. The instrument couldn't have moved by itself, but he knew that he had put it on the bookshelf.

After he was satisfied that it wasn't going to move again, he slowly moved closer. He got out a pencil from his desk drawer and cautiously poked one of the frets with the eraser end, knocking it over. He leapt back again in anticipation of some sort of retaliation, but the instrument just sat there.

He sat back down in his chair and rubbed his aching head. Suddenly, from the corner of his eye he noticed a movement from the woman's face. When he looked, he was sure that it was moving.

From out of nowhere, he had the undeniable urge to play it. He lifted it up carefully and sat at the foot of his bed. He plucked each string deliberately, as he mentally mapped out the notes in his head. Luckily, it wasn't played much differently than his own guitar, though its sound was something completely different. As he fiddled with the notes he felt his mood change with each one. The higher notes made him feel calm and pensive, the lower notes made him feel powerful and strong. Very soon, he felt he had a grasp on what the strange guitar was capable of. And after a few twists of the large wooden knobs at the top, he was fairly confident he had it set at its peak performance.

He silenced the instrument and then thought about what he should play. All the songs he knew were made to be played on a guitar, and he didn't think they would sound right on this particular instrument. But then he remembered his own song and was curious as to what it would sound like.

He began the slow, sorrowful beginning, and watched in amazement as the face began to open its eyes. Startled, George stopped playing, and the carving went back to its original state. He started again, and the face moved like it had before. George didn't stop this time. He kept playing through the beginning and moved on through the hopeful rhythm. The woman became alert and gazed at George lovingly as he played. The strange guitar began to shake slightly as the vibrations from the strings reverberated up the wooden frets and into the ivory carving.

Finally, the crescendo echoed through his room, and the carving cracked wide up its center. A glowing pink vapor sprung forth and surrounded him. It penetrated his nose and mouth and eyes. His vision blurred and started to get black around the edges. He realized he was passing out, but found himself unable to fight it. He fell back on to his bed and dropped the odd guitar to the floor.