Too Many Wishes

Note: This is inspired by the story "Your Wishes Delivered" by Jason at The Changing Mirror.

*

Abazeel rolled over in the lumpy motel bed, knocking several empty travel-sized bottles of booze off as he did. He woke up, tried to sit up, and regretted it instantly as his head throbbed.

"Gods damn it!" He moaned, holding his pounding head. He struggled to the inadequate restroom, stood in a cold shower, and started the pathetic coffeepot. When he was able to think, he sat at the sticky table and reviewed his notes.

His new target was Samantha Hind, 42, single, working as nursing assistant. He planned on meeting her before her shift at the nursing home. Abazeel glanced at the clock, cursed again, and went out to his junker of a rental.

On the short drive, Abazeel managed to once again thoroughly curse the son of an unclean camel that landed him in this situation. Thanks to a combination of a long and complicated series of interlocking wishes, and several cups of a very fine locally made wine, Abazeel was now cursed himself. How was he to know that the man would create such a thick and indecipherable document. Abazeel was still not sure how the Hades the thing managed to only take three wishes. Ah, but the wine was amazing so there was at least that small consolation. His current mission was a peripheral part of the accursed man's wish- his increasingly distant progeny were to be granted a series of wishes that were themselves bound by an intricate set of rules and clauses all designed to get around the limitations of the djinn.

Of course, the powers that be took a dim view of what he had done while under the influence, so put rather severe limits on his powers. He could no longer just transport himself from place to place unless it directly fulfilled a wish. He was banished from his beloved bottle home for the duration. He could still get drunk and hungover, but could no longer enjoy the rich flavors of fine wines or get a pleasant buzz. Thankfully they granted him a living allowance to allow him to operate in the mortal realm- but it was never quite enough to do anything really enjoyable. They were sadistically clever that way.

So now his only entertainment came from granting wishes, something that always brought a genie pleasure. Of course, he was still cursed and could not twist the wishes as tradition required in order to extract the richest flavors from them. Still, it was enough to keep him going day to day.

He double checked his notes and pulled into the drive of a rather sad-looking small suburban home in an older 'transitional' neighborhood.

The woman that came to the door might have been in her early forties, but if so, she had lived a hard life. She really wasn't ugly, but none would call her pretty, or even 'handsome', either. 'Coarsely plain' passed through his mind, and it seemed a good match for her thick, lumpy body. She was obviously getting ready for work wearing cheap slacks and one of those hideous flowered scrub tops so popular among healthcare staff a few years ago.

"May I help you?" She asked, without enthusiasm.

"Actually, I am here to help you. Please invite me in." Abazeel used a weak minor enchantment to get her to invite him in and trust him enough for his purposes. The powers that be limited this as well.

He found a seat on a worn couch in her equally worn living room. "Can we make this quick? I have to get to work." Abazeel knew she was planning to stop at the local coffee place on her way, and had budgeted enough time for a donut or three as well. She had plenty of time.

"This will only take a moment. My name is Abazeel" He conjured a small roll of thunder with his name by sheer force of habit. "I am here to grant you seven wishes. What does your heart desire?" He crossed his fingers and hoped with every fiber of his being that she would not...

"Huh? Wishes? Seven? What the hell is going on here?" Yep. She was going to be one of those types. The small enchantment from earlier helped her to believe what he said but it was not powerful to let him avoid this rigamarole. Abazeel hung his head for a defeated second and began the spiel.

"You have seven wishes. You cannot use them to wish for more wishes, unlimited money or power, or, for that matter, unlimited anything. You cannot wish for anyone's death, or things that are just too outlandish, like turning the Earth into a paradise or ending hunger. In fact, you cannot wish for anything specific at all. For example, you CAN wish for a new car, but you CANNOT wish for a specific model, or how you got it, etcetera, etcetera etcetera. Again, what does your heart desire?"

And of course, because she was human and he was cursed, she wanted to know lots, lots more. She argued with him, quizzed him about details, demanded more examples. and exploded when she learned what was next. "What do you mean someone else gets to define my wishes?"

Sigh. "Such is the nature of the gift (Abazeel could not repress a small shudder using this word) that your friends are the ones who will determine the details of how each wish will be shaped." And that, of course, sparked another round of debate broken only by Samantha texting that she would be in late.

She demanded to know how he would select her friends (from her thoughts and memories. He already knew the seven to speak to but was barred from revealing their names.) "How long would all this take?" (Depends on travel times and so on, but each wish would be granted as soon as the friend finished.) "So, just all of the sudden, things will be different? Won't that cause problems for me?" (He explained that the wish will be granted by changing her past so it will seem as if things were always thus to everyone else.) He even tried to explain how fulfilling a newer wish might change the results of an older one, and how her friend's perceptions of her may change as things progress. She did not seem to be paying much attention.

"So if I wished to be a blonde, tall, voluptuous, beautiful young woman, that would count as a wish?"

Abazeel was scribbling notes. "OK, that's five. What are your other two wishes?"

"Five!?" Samantha shrieked! "That is just one wish! I didn't even wish it- I was just thinking out loud!" She screamed and sputtered on for a moment in this vein before calming enough for Abazeel to get in a word sideways. He suggested she treat things as if she had three wishes and still had two to go, and she calmed somewhat.

She thought out loud for a moment, careful to not use the keywords 'wish' or 'want'. "Hmm, if I ask to rich and successful, that will probably count as two w..." She caught herself just in time. "Fame and fortune? Eternal health or youth? No, eternal things are not allowed, but maybe a longer, youthful life? My 'friends' get to decide the details, though, so that makes it rough." She was about to wish her mom was here to talk to and just barely avoided saying it.

Abazeel tapped his shoe. "Come now, I haven't all day. The longer this takes, the longer it will be before they are granted." He was, of course, lying. He wanted to grant the wishes and had absolutely nothing else going on. It was just his experience that a bit of pressure helped prevent overly thought-out wishes and complications. Besides, lots of humans under pressure made delightfully twistable wishes- even with his restriction on twisting them too much.

"OK. I wish I was wildly successful." She figured that most of her friends would count being rich and famous as a measure of success. Abazeel made a note and looked back to her. "And I wish... I wish... I wish for happiness." She blurted, a tear in her eye, with a sense of almost desperation about her.

Abazeel raised an eyebrow as he noted this one. He felt his heart soften a bit at her obvious pain and fearful hopefulness. "Thank you, my dear. Here is my contact information. Feel free to call if you have a question, but remember that I cannot undo anything. We may meet again, but do not count on it." He vanished in a puff of glittery smoke.

Of course he reappeared just outside the home's door. He was allowed dramatic effects, but this situation did not call for teleportation so he slid behind the wheel of the clunker and headed down the road.

WISH ONE: 'BLONDE'

His first stop was just next door. He would have just walked but the clunker was blocking Samantha's car and she really did need to get to work. He pulled into the driveway of one Jane Hemmingway, long-time neighbor of Miss Hind. He used a small enchantment, one a bit more powerful than he had used before, to 'convince' Mrs. Hemmingway to believe everything he said and to cooperate. Since she was not making any wishes herself, this would make things easier. A rider to the enchantment also meant that she would forget their encounter almost immediately once he left.

"Samantha wants to be blonde? She got all these wishes and that is what she used them on?"

Abazeel reminded her that he could not really tell her much about what Samantha wished for or why, but could they please get back to the topic? It had taken him a few minutes, even with the enchantment, to convince her that her role in this was to help give definition and reality to the wish- what does 'blonde' mean in this context? Dyed or natural? Any other details? He explained that in his experience, it often helped to tell a story about it.

"Tell a story, huh? OK. Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Samantha." Abazeel was about to interrupt and tell her that he did not need this type of story, but decided to hold back and see where it went. "This young girl had the most beautiful golden hair, long and shiny. She loved to comb it and brush it, and braid it and it was her pride and joy...

"I'm sorry, Abazeel, but Samantha would look terrible with that kind of hair. Can I change her looks to suit it better?" Abazeel shook his head no. "Can I at least change her skin tone?" Abazeel thought about it and agreed. Jane continued. "Samantha was a cute child with her sun-kissed tan skin and her beautiful hair. She..." Abazeel cleared his throat after letting her daydream another moment longer.

"Thank you, ma'am, but that is really all I need." Jane blinked as if waking up.

"Oh, oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Mr.... um... " The enchantment was already making her forget the encounter. She went back inside and felt a weird desire to watch 'Tangled' again.

Samantha was on her way to work when a yellow curtain appeared in the sides of her vision. She managed to wrestle the car to the side of the road and took a long look in the mirror. She was amazed at the sunny blonde hair she saw, neatly braided in a complicated style with some loose bits framing her face- the 'curtain' that startled her so badly. She decided she liked it before really noting that her skin was different as well- covered with an even golden tan. Her face looked subtly different as well, until she noticed and dimly remembered that it was just well-applied make up.

Samantha's work day was a little more fun than it had been for the last several years. She felt lighter on her feet, and more cheerful, and just really enjoyed interacting with the residents today. She flirted, she chatted, she comforted, and she even hugged- things she had just been doing rather mechanically for a long time now were real to her again.

When it was time for her break, she finally took time and reviewed the two sets of memories she found. The older set, seeming more like a dream with every hour, of a trailer park trash childhood with few friends was being supplanted by memories of having some BFF's in her early years- girls doing slumber parties and hanging out, and when she was older, some boy friends.

In the newer, clearer, set of memories, she did not loathe herself or feel sorry for herself for being poor, dumb, and ugly. She was more active, had friends, and did OK in school (she was never really smart, but this time around, she at least tried to do the homework and such sometimes.) She was not genetically prone to slender body, but it did loose some of its lumpiness- even more so as she began to eat better and be more active in college. She had learned to do her hair and make-up from her friends, and was actually pretty good at it. She took out her purse and mirror and touched up her face a bit, smiling and enjoying the sensation of a real smile after so long.

She could not help herself. She shook out her hair, undoing the braids, and just relished the sensation of running her hands through her locks. It felt so wonderful, so sensual. She 'remembered' how much she loved it when a rare boyfriend would do it to her, making her all quivery. She sighed and put it in a quick, thick ponytail to finish her shift. "Oh, Mrs. Martlebee, let me help you with that!"

She called Abazeel later that night, after a long brushing session, which had led to some 'private time', to thank him for the gift. She tried to engage him about her other wishes, but he managed to deflect her even as he thought to himself that she was much less cranky now. He felt it was too bad that she never really hooked up with any of the right guys even this time around.

WISH TWO: 'TALL'

The next morning found Abazeel across town having tea with Deidre Jones, an older black woman that Samantha thought of as a friend, but who considered herself mostly just a co-worker. His magic again set it up so she instantly believed him and was generally cooperative.

"Tall" Deidre reflected as she sipped from her cup. She had a couple hours to go before her shift and was rather enjoying the visit of this dark and mysterious gentleman.

"Yes. Tall. No specification of how tall, how she got that way, etc. That, dear woman, is where you come in. How tall would you say is 'tall' in this case?"

Deidre went to her computer. "Well, the average for women in the US is 5'4", and she seems, what, about 5'3" or so? I guess 5'5" would count both as 'taller than she is now', and 'taller than average', but it does not seem to be what she is asking for. How about we go for 5'11"? I bet her beautiful hair would look nice on someone that tall. Would she keep her current weight or would she just get proportionally heavier? I mean, it's not like she is a close friend, but I don't want bad things for her."

"I cannot directly address her weight with this wish, but I can go so far as to have her keep her current weight. I show that she weighs about 175 pounds, which is at the upper range of that height on that chart." Deidre was visibly relieved that things would not get worse for Samantha.

"So," Abazeel continued. "We have the target. How did she get this tall? from birth? Growth spurts? Magic?" He smirked with the last suggestion knowing his own magic would prevent that option as part of its inherent 'keep magic a secret' elements.

"She should just inherit it from a tall parent... perhaps her mother." Deidre said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

"She grew up taller than average, then?" He asked, making notes. He shook Ms. Jones's hand and went out to his car to cast the actual spell.

Samantha went from pushing a cart loaded with cups of juice and coffee, and mid-morning pastries for the residents in her wing to pushing a lockable cart loaded with small cups of medicines in a heartbeat. As she shook her head, she noticed her new vantage point nearly a foot higher than she was used to. She looked down on the crisp royal blue scrubs she was wearing- her usual uniform as a nurse here. She also noticed that she was thin. Well, not thin-thin, but she had a bit of a waist now and her thighs were not jiggling!

She looked around, feeling her thick braid swishing along her back, and was amazed at how much better her posture felt, and how much more confident she felt! She finished her med rounds with a comfortable familiarity that she was not sure of and strode confidently to the nurse's lounge- a room she had never been in before but also knew well. She also knew somehow that it would be empty at this time.

She called Abazeel. "What's going on? I'm obviously taller, but I'm a nurse now? And why do I feel different?" Abazeel noted that her voice and language were much less coarse now.

"Your friend Deidre said you should be tall for a woman because your mother was tall. I had to change your mother's background quite a lot to get her to carry the right genes, and your father a bit to arrange for her to be that much taller than him and still fall in love."

As he spoke, Samantha felt her memories swirl and congeal. Her memories of her mother changed from remembering a rather unmemorable part-time data entry clerk to those of a full-time office manager, although her dad remained a barely successful insurance salesman. There was a lot more money available and more of a focus on education as she grew up. The trailer home she grew up in changed to a small house in the old part of the city, where they ate better and had better schools. She actually played some team sports in school, and she had lots of friends in grade school. She lost some friends and still had a hard time dating due to her height, but she still had a good time in school this time around. She even made it onto the cheerleader squad for a semester.

She had started to go to college to get a degree in business but did not really have the head for it, and changed to an RN program early on. Unfortunately, there was a glut of nurses when she graduated so working at the nursing home was the best she could find. It was honest work, but she was planning on going for her Bachelors of Nursing soon and find something better.

She shook her head and thanked Abazeel, hanging up. She finished her shift and went home to the same house, but one she had obviously spent more money on decorating and remodeling. She made a fresh salad from a fridge that was full of take-out boxes and ice cream only hours earlier, worked some more on her BN application, and hit the sack early since she had an early shift tomorrow.

WISH TWO: VOLUPTUOUS

It took Abazeel a few days to make it to the next destination several states away in the thrice-damned clunker. He figured he would make a big circle of it as the rest of the people on the list were out of state. He pulled up at Jimmy's house and knocked on the door, casting his small spell of cooperation.

It did not take long for younger cousin Jimmy to be opening page after page of bookmarked feminine images. Tall, short, dark, fair, blonde, brunette, redhead, thick-bodied, willowy, nude, barely dressed... they all had one thing in common- an exaggerated hourglass shape.

"See, now when I think 'voluptuous', I think classic bombshell body- big chest, smaller but not tiny waist, big hips. These girls..." highlighting a whole group of women with large breasts, visible abdominal muscles, and slender limbs, "They're a bit too skinny for the term. I feel like it calls for a bit of softness, a little padding to enhance the curviness." He highlighted another group that had thick waists compared to their hips. "These women don't quite have the ratio I would say is needed for true 'voluptuousness'."

He pulled a Facebook photo of Samantha up on another monitor. "See, she has the height to pull off something special. Right now, she's just... ordinary. I can't tell what kinds of tits she has. She has that chubby belly and I bet she has rolls on her waist. I mean, she's OK. I'd probably bang her if we weren't related and she wasn't so old, but damn... if she looked more like THESE, that would be incredible!"

'THESE' were photos of busty models like Jordan Carver and Kelly Brook. "So... if we made it so she was... 38E, no, 38G-24-36, that would be about right for her height to qualify her. Hey, can you make it so she loves sex? That seems to be a part of what makes someone 'voluptuous'- they are least look and act like they would enjoy a good fuck."