Harold Lawlor

“ I smiled cunningly. "Well, you won't succeed. You'll never succeed." Bravado crept into my voice. "I'm not so easily frightened."
I don't know how long I crouched there against the tufted satin headboard. But reason came back abruptly. I was like one roused sharply from a bad dream, who doubts the dream. Surely I had been dreaming?
But no. The goblet was there, its contents making a gurgling, contented sound in the stillness. It didn't frighten me now. Mrs. Dunnigan, of course! Somehow she had crept back.
I opened the Venetian blinds so the sunlight might pour in, and dressed swiftly. ”

“ The djinn began gleefully snortling and snuffling to himself in a manner that I found altogether revolting.
"You have something in mind, Connie?" asked the djinn.
"Oh, nothing definite. But I do have a hopeful feeling that something about all this business will cause Pete more than a spot or two of mental anguish."
"Constance Bartlett," I said, aghast. I shivered. I must have known even then, intuitively, that she was speaking with the voice of a prophet, and no minor one, at that. But what did I do?"
"Women have cluttered your life, huh? We can't drive, huh?" ”

“ Men! I thought in fond despair. What had he expected us to do—claw each other's eyes out? It was absurd. As if I could help feeling fond at first sight of this sister of his—so child-like, so appealing.
There was some mix-up about our luggage. Before attending to it, Michael stayed until Coralie had filled the cranberry goblet with water from a silver carafe on the bedside table, dropped in a capsule which dissolved instantly, and swallowed the colorless mixture. Something wrong with her heart, Michael had said. ”

“ I could be wrong, but I think wishing peace for him would only be like repairing a leak in a broken hose. He'll only break out some place else. Peace is something he will have to earn for himself, or it will never mean anything to him."
"Whether that's true or not," Connie said, "let's put that question aside for the moment. There are other things. Surely I could ask for an end of needless suffering? A cure for incurable diseases?"
"But, Connie," I objected, "you believe in some Greater Power, don't you?" ”

“ Clever Coralie, cruel Coralie. Together we had killed her, and together we had killed whatever future we might have had for ourselves. There is no love without trust, and there'll be no trust, ever, between Michael and me. There'll be no children now, for Michael and me—children whose parents were murderers. ”

“ Connie began at last conversationally, "I've often read stories about people who'd released djinns from bottles, and it really does seem to me that they're incredibly stupid. The releasers, I mean, not the stories or the djinns or the bottles. For consider! What do the releasers do? Do they consider even the minimum of intelligence in selecting their wish for the djinn to grant? They do not!" She answered herself, before we could open our mouths. "They wish for some silly thing like a million dollars, or something like that." ”

“ Only an infinite weariness. We can never destroy it. It will be with us always.
You'll never give up, will you, Coralie? I know that now. Know it as certainly as I know that the day will finally come when Michael and I, goaded beyond endurance, will drink as you desire—from the cranberry goblet. ”

“ One thing about Connie, she isn't vindictive once she has made her point. She could very well have left Gloria just as she was, as a lesser, more spiteful, woman would have done. But instead she said, "I wish Gloria to be returned to her natural state at once!"
And, of course, the djinn obliged. Gloria opened her eyes almost immediately, and seemed considerably bemused to find herself attractive once more.
"Good heavens!" she said. "I must have been dreaming. Though how I could have possibly been dreaming while I was dancing—"
"Pete has that effect on all women," Connie murmured. ”

“ But Michael, I thought, would never understand this, never blame Coralie for what was happening. Men, they say, are by nature more open, more direct. If I went to him, telling him what I suspected, I felt he'd only regard Coralie as misunderstood, and myself as jealous, suspicious—at best, a whining martyr. ”

“ Connie noted my scowl, and proceeded to pour oil on troubled waters.
"The djinn was only being complimentary," she said. "No need for you to be jealous all the time, Petey-weetie-sweelie."
"If there's one thing I can't abide," I said fretfully, my nerves quivering like the fringe on a bubble-dancer's G-string, "it's being called Petey-weetie- sweetie in front of strangers."
"Oh, come, now!" the djinn protested, looking somewhat hurt. "Don't look upon me as a stranger, I implore you! Until I grant your wife's wish, which automatically releases me, I'm practically one of the family." ”

“ Michael had loved Coralie! What was he saying?
"Don't you think I saw what she'd been doing all along, working to destroy our marriage?" His face was cold, implacable. "I knew what Coralie was capable of. Why, when a child—" He broke off. "It doesn't matter now. But she never fooled me. Never. I had a right to some happiness. And that was why I killed her."
Why we killed her. Five capsules, I thought dully. Five had been enough.
Michael picked up the cranberry goblet. Looking around for some place to throw its contents, he finally poured the liquid into the bowl of zinnias on the table. ”

“ I shouldn't care to arrogate to myself powers that belong more properly to what Pete calls a Greater Power. After all, I am not—" He broke off, bowing his head reverently.
"You mean," Connie said, "there are some wishes that even you could not grant?"
The djinn shrugged. "I do not know. I should not care, in any case, to put it to the test." And he said, with a cynicism that was tragic in its connotations, "Why can't you be like other humans? Contented with wishes for material things?" ”

“ Really, I marvel at you, Pete! You, too, Connie! Where is the famous Bartlett logic, the Bartlett quick wit?"
"You mean?"
"I mean there's a very easy, simple, quick way out of this difficulty," the djinn said slyly. "Pshaw! I'm disappointed in both of you! Think!"
Connie looked wary, but I said recklessly, "Name it!"
"All Mrs. B. has to do," the djinn said, spreading his hands expressively, "is wish for me to go away from here promptly." ”

“ Connie said. "However, just to show you my heart's in the right place, would you like a drink?"
"I wish I had one right now," I said. And God knows I needed it.
Connie looked at the djinn. "I wish Pete could have his wish."
"Work, work, work," grumbled the djinn. "A body can't have a minute's rest." ”

“ In the beginning, every morning after Michael had left for the office, I would knock at Coralie's door eager to make amends, to try to get off on the right foot with her. But I was never permitted to enter. Mrs. Dunnigan, our housekeeper (and Coralie's willing slave) , would open the door the merest slit. And her thin-lipped mouth would open the merest slit, too, in her hard, set face.
Miss Coralie was resting. Miss Coralie didn't feel well enough this morning for visitors. No, there was nothing you could do. Yes, Mrs. Whittington, I'll let you know if she asks for you. ”

“ Connie said plaintively. "We can't hang around here all day. This discussion must end right now. I'm going up to the cottage and change my clothes, and I dare anybody to try to stop me!"
And this time she didn't wait for further argument. She trudged through the sand as swiftly as may be, the djinn hovering tenaciously and smokily above her, while I perforce brought up the rear of this weird caravan, moaning unhappily to myself, and grimly determined to leave neither of them out of my sight if it killed me. ”

“ Luckily, Michael was preoccupied and asked no questions. "Get somebody else," be suggested shortly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently her going meant nothing to him.
At the station I gave him the key to the court cabinet, and asked him to put it on his key-chain with the others. This roused him. "What?" he laughed. "Are you a secret drinker? Are you locking temptation away?"
"Exactly!" I agreed demurely, lifting my face for his kiss.
So that was that. The cranberry goblet would stay where it was for awhile. There'd be no more Mrs. Dunnigan in the apartment, playing tricks. ”

“ The thick mist rose higher still till it was hovering above us, grew denser, and began to form into a shape resembling something remotely human—something like that of the rubber man in the old Michelin tire advertisements.
It was no thing of great beauty, but if it wasn't a djinn, I thought dazedly, it was certainly a reasonable facsimile thereof. I stared at the thing, open-mouthed. I was speechless, I'll admit.
But Connie wasn't. Connie never is.
"See, Pete?" she said. "Your sneer, and your cheap cynicism!" ”

“ I echoed slowly. "But, Connie, after every war hasn't the world been just a little bit better? Oh, not right away, but eventually? Man has always built from destruction. He seems to learn no other way. Even the atomic age was ushered in on a wave of destruction."
Connie looked shocked. "But, Pete, surely you're not advocating war as a desirable thing!"
"No, of course not! But man seems to be a funny animal, Connie. He never appreciates something handed him on a silver platter. ”

“ I faltered. "The box said one capsule only. It seems reasonable to suppose that a person bent on suicide would put two in the glass, doubling the dose, then add a third to make certain."
But Peter shook his head. "Three would have made her very ill, but they wouldn't have killed her. She must have taken more."
I couldn't understand it. Peter was very emphatic that three wouldn't have killed her. When he had left, I kept thinking, "But there were only three! The one capsule Coralie had put in the glass herself, and the two that I—"
I shut off my thoughts. ”

“ I went on, "you had something happen to you that could happen not just once in a lifetime, but once in a millennium. You were given the power to have every wish of yours gratified immediately. So far, you've just amused yourself indiscreetly, but no doubt you believe that you can ask of the djinn a number of things which he will immediately see that you get?"
"Of course," Connie said.
"Of course," said the djinn. "It his always been my policy to give the customer just a little bit more than the next man." ”

“ Even the djinn looked somewhat taken aback. "I can think of sillier things," he said defensively.
"Well, perhaps a million dollars isn't so very silly," Connie hedged.
"You're tootin', baby," I said. "For a minute there I thought you'd gone crazy in a big way."
"But the point I'm trying to make is this," Connie went on, patient with my levity. "These people just wish for something sil—something like that, and they neglect to wish for what seems to me to be the most obvious wish of all. One that should occur to anybody immediately, with little or no thought. ”

“ I started for the door, determined to get out before I made an exhibition of myself.
"You won't do anything, you won't do anything," she taunted in a chant that followed me across the room. "No matter what you do, I'll win. ”

“ Connie said. "I'm merely going to wish a wish. A quite reasonable, logical wish that would occur to any woman. All the men who've opened djinn bottles, with all their fine masculine blather about logic, poor things, have never wished a wish like this." ”

“ Doom comes in many guises, each one sure and deadly....
By HAROLD LAWLOR
It looks as innocent as Coralie herself—that cranberry goblet. It has been in Michael's family for many years—the last of a set once owned, perhaps, by his grandparents. But no one really knows. Michael himself doesn't know. It has just been around for as long as he can remember. Square at the top, slightly convex at the sides, its bowl is the color of ripe cranberries—a live glowing scarlet, deepening sometimes to ruby; its stem and base are of rock crystal, clear and. ”