I Dream of Jeannie Read online

I DREAM OF JEANNIE

  By Richard Johnson

  I DREAM OF JEANNIE

  By Richard Johnson

  Copyright July 2012 Richard Johnson

  ISBN 9781301761241

  I had bought a cheap lamp at a thrift store for a buck-fifty because it was dented at base and neck. But it was cute and cheap and I am an impulse buyer.

  It wasn’t until I put it on my small anvil and started to pound out the dents with my tinner’s hammer that things went strange.

  Basically I was taking out the dents when the thing started to shake and then smoke poured out and I put the thing on the workbench as the smoke coalesced into a genie. Or a Djinn.

  And it was NOT Barbara Eden!

  “Will you PLEASE stop that infernal banging!” the genie demanded as he held his head. “That noise is giving me a migraine.”

  Not knowing what to say but knowing that I was in really deep ca-ca, I said the only thing that came to mind, “I’m really sorry, I was just trying to pound out the dents and make the lamp nicer looking.”

  The djinn, who was dressed in a floral shirt and swim trunks, looked at my work, then nodded and stood back, saying, “Go on.” Which I did, only now far more carefully. After all, if this thing was a real djinn, it could turn me into a frog or dump me into the Antarctic Ocean. Besides, I needed time to think.

  “Not bad,” he commented when I was finished. “Not good but not bad.”

  “Thank you,” replied, then after staring at him for awhile, I asked, “Want a beer?”

  “Sounds good.” He replied and then, “Don’t forget the lamp.”

  As I asked ‘why?’ he replied, “I live in it but cannot move it myself.”

  We sat in my living room, drinking a couple beers when I finally asked, “Are you a real genii?”

  The guy stared back, laughed then snapped his fingers and we were on a beach in … I guess it was Hawaii as I think I recognized Diamond Head in the background. Not knowing what to do next, I sat in the sand and we watched the women pass by in their skimpy bathing suits until he commented, “Normally I’d rip your spine out for giving me that headache but because you had a good intention, I’ll give you three wishes.”

  Well, that was interesting. “I thought the owner of the lamp got as many as he wanted?”

  “You watch too much television.” He replied. “Rules change. Want them or not?”

  “Sure, I guess. But will they backfire on me?”

  “Depends on you. But you’d fixed my house and gave me some good beer so I’ll play fair with you.”

  I thought for awhile and asked, “I gather most people ask for power, wealth and women?”

  “Obviously. They just don’t realize that nothing is free.” He was distracted by a particularly well-built woman tossing a ball.

  Hmm, nothing is free. So if I wished for the most beautiful woman in the world? Helen! Helen of Troy was the most beautiful woman in the world and look at what happened when Paris got her! Helen’s husband was not happy and started the Trojan War. Besides beauty doesn’t always mean personality. Some of the most beautiful women I knew were empty headed bimbos.

  “Ok, first wish. Wealth.. wait!” I snapped as he was about to snap his fingers. “I don’t mean drop a billion dollars into my lap. How about this. I buy two lottery tickets. One for immediate pay-off to pay all my bills and then other monthly payments so I can retire and enjoy life. I’ll pay the taxes and no one gets hurt.”

  He laughed, then said, “Done!” as he snapped his fingers. “The next two lottery tickets you buy will be winners. AND, because you are a good sport, you will be the only winner to each!”

  “You mean…”

  “Exactly, I would have had a hundred people win the same ticket. Next!”

  “Health! I want to be in perfect health and live a long and healthy life. Not immortal, just.. well good teeth, eyesight, make me healthy and maybe ten years younger, physically.”

  “No ten inch dick? No live forever? Just health? Done. It’ll take a week and cutting teeth will be a pain but by next week, you’ll be healthy again. Next.”

  “Love! Someone attractive but not necessarily beautiful or I’d have to worry about other men hitting on her. Loyal and faithful, but not dependent on me. Basically a decent looking woman with a nice personality that will love me and that I can love.. oh, right, single! I don’t want to steal another man’s wife.”

  “I would have expected giant tits, no brains and the sex-drive of an alleycat. Done!”

  We watched the girls for awhile then he lay back, “you know, you’ve been a decent chap. Not greedy and smart enough to not upset the balance of the universe. So, I’ll grant your wishes and not try to cheat you.” Then he snapped his fingers and I was sitting in my living room, alone.

  ***

  What’s to say, I bought my first ticket that afternoon and won. I immediately paid off my mortgage and car and all my credit cards, after paying the taxes of course. Then sunk the rest into a high-yield saving’s account. A month later, I bought my second ticket, won and quit my job. I don’t spend all that money I get every month but invest a lot of it. And I travel.

  It was while seeing Vegas that I bumped into a woman, another tourist and.. well she won’t win any beauty contest but we hit it off and neither of us are embarrassed to be seen in public with each other and we make each other happy. The wedding in next year.

  But he was right. My wrinkles and gray faded in a couple days, my hair grew out darker, my joints stopped aching and.. well he was right, I almost choked on a filling that was pushed out by new teeth material and replacing those lost teeth hurt as I teethed over the week.

  But as for the rest, he played fair with me and I set the lamp on a shelf, dust it regularly and every month, on or near the anniversary of the day I found his lamp, I set beside it a bottle of the best beer I can find.

  END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  What can I say about my past, for biographies should be exciting and filled with the wonder that encourages one to explore the written word as Hillary explored Everest or Livingston explored Africa. But, alas, you are doomed to disappointment for I, as my family before me, have led a dull and completely normal life.

  My father was born in a railroad car within sight of the Superstition Mountains. As a child, when he could escape the life of the West and its duties, my father explored these mountains seeking the same gold that had been found by the Dutchman. At the tender age of fifteen, my father lied about his age to escape the overly romantic ranch-life of a cowboy and enlisted in the Marines, carrying a flame-thrower across the Pacific Theater, then later Korea, before he settled down to the equally dull life of an Air Force police officer in such locales as Vietnam and Arabia.

  His father was the first white-man born in Northern Arizona and worked as a telegrapher, a horse-drawn supply wagon driver to Jerome and, of course, a cowboy.

  His father was a Norwegian pirate upon the Barbary Coast, eventually seeking the safety of Arizona, believing that the US Navy would not chase him that far inland. And so traded the cutlass for lariat and became the owner of the oldest working ranch in the West, a ranch whose size increased with his entry into the Mormon Lake sheep wars and a major character in one of Zane Gray’s western novels.

  My mother's life was equally dull, arriving as an illegal immigrant from Ireland in 1925. Her mother was Irish Nobility of Claire and was descended from the Great High King, Brian Boru. She married into Irish Nobility from Antrim causing her children to argue between the Orange and the Green. Being good Catholics, they gave half their wealth and half their children to the Church and supported the IRA with funds and sons back when these heroe
s were Freedom Fighters seeking to form a Republic free from British rule.

  With this background, I grew up not only upon Arizona Ranches, but also on Eastern Farms. My fondest memories, however, were growing up in Okinawa, searching among the post-war ordinance that still littered the jungle and discovering two Cryptids, a giant centipede and a supposedly extinct salamander. And when time allowed, I became politically active, fighting for and winning various civil rights for oppressed minorities on both a state and federal level.

  And so I grew up, living a normal and dull life, studying Karate, Kung-Fu, Kendo, Fencing and Ninjitsu. I worked as a farmer and cowboy when necessity called, exploring the jungles and deserts when possible and seeking the crash site of that famous incident in Roswell, New Mexico when desired.

  I eventually achieved my Degree from a well-known institute of learning in the field of Psychology and Sociology but left academia shortly before achieving my Masters in Anthropology, choosing to marry, enlist and follow my father's footsteps. However, as he chose the life of action, I chose the dull life of a Construction Engineer satisfying myself with building a school in Panama for Indians, repairing the homes of the unfortunates on a leper colony, building a hospital in Belize, a fire station for 16-year-old Apache smoke-jumpers in New Mexico, an office for the Red Cross in Arabia and the like. Not particularly exciting but satisfying on a spiritual level for my military career was based upon making people's lives better. And exploring the forbidden areas of these and other nations taught me that learning to say "please" and "thank you" in the local dialect and a polite attitude saved me much trouble, my Martial Arts training filling in on those rare occasions when courtesy failed.

  And so, 28 years later, after leaking blood upon the soil of nations most Americans cannot find on a map, I felt it time to retire when my beliefs that every nation possessed the right of self-determination countered the actions of America.

  So, I continue my dull life of retirement working in the Justice system, teaching Witchcraft, paddling kayaks and running the occasional river race, writing, Geocaching, martial arts, rebuilding my sailboat, building 'toys' for my former girl-friend, who was a professional Dominatrix, seeking a future Mrs who can bake a decent pizza and, of course, writing, having won the prestigious Georgian Award in 1982, but selling nothing since, though I do have a reputation for my papers on Martian Cartography.