didn’t even know I was granting wishes. It was all a big stupid accident.”
Captain Hook shakes his head. “That’s impossible. There’s a ritual that must be completed. How would one know the ritual without understanding the consequences?”
You’d be surprised, I think.
“Besides,” Captain Hook continues. “It’s clear these wishes were granted by someone with experience and . . .”
“And what?” I demand.
He sighs, clearly annoyed by my constant interruptions, and I think he’s not gonna tell me anything more, but then he finishes, “By someone with too much experience and too much power to be innocent.”
“What does that even mean?” I slam my hand on the table, feeling agitated by his words even while I don’t fully understand them. “Stop with the cryptic bullshit already.”
“Cryptic!” Captain Hook’s mouth purses in disapproval. “All right, then. How about this? A normal wish maker can’t raise the dead. Nor can they grant more than a few wishes in the span of a single evening. There’s only one way for a wish maker to gain that sort of power and that’s by taking it from another wish maker. And a wish maker, once stripped of their powers, is a shattered person, unfit for anyplace other than a mental hospital.” With every word Captain Hook leans in closer. I’m not bothered by his imposing physical presence at that moment; instead, it’s his little speech that’s slamming into me, making me cringe as I absorb the not-so-subtle subtext: the person who granted those wishes is a monster.
I am a monster.
Suddenly, my mother’s words from earlier come back to me. “I gave you everything.”
Oh, please, someone tell me that what I’m thinking is not possible. That I didn’t take my mother’s powers. That I’m not the reason she’s a total nutcase. And yet all the pieces fit.
Well, except for the one where I remember actually doing something to Mom.
“So what do you and Tinkerbell have to do with this?” I ask.
“Tinkerbell?” he asks, looking amused for a moment. Then he glances her way and sobers up once more. “I wouldn’t let her hear you say that. And I’m Benji, by the way, so you can forget whatever cute little nickname you’ve given me.”
“Captain Hook,” I admit.
“Hmmph,” is his reply, but again he struggles to suppress a smile. Then he shifts back into business mode. “As I’ve already mentioned, Jules and I were two of your father’s pets, kept for our abilities. We both have the ability to find people, specifically people with powers. When we failed again and again and again to track you down . . . Well, he took my eye and her tongue as a sort of motivation. And when that didn’t deliver the results he wanted, he threatened to take our lives. Then you resurfaced with a veritable tsunami of wishes granted all in one evening. Suddenly our task became much easier. Cash sent us to fetch you with the promise of our freedom as payment.” He says this last bit somewhat apologetically. And I get it.
It’s them or me. And they think I’m a monster exactly like my father.
“What if”—I stop and take a deep breath and then make myself push on—“What if I didn’t do any of it on purpose? What if I’m trying to make up for all those crazy wishes? To fix them somehow? You think then that maybe you could take your friend and get outta here? Just take off running in the opposite direction of wherever Cash is?”
“Can’t,” Benji answers, instantly crushing the slightest glimmer of hope. For a long moment he stares off into the distance as if lost in his own thoughts. When he speaks again, it’s in the low voice reserved for confessions. “I’m sorry. If it was only me . . . ” His gaze drifts toward Jules and the picture becomes clearer. He’s got a thing for her and there’s no way he’s risking Cash refusing to let her go.
He pushes his chair back and stands. “Come on,” he says. “We’ve wasted enough time. It looks like Jules is starting to come around, and you’ll want to be safely locked in the trunk before that happens.”
As he reaches for Smith, I do the only thing I can think of. It’s the same move I saw a two-year-old at the grocery store use the other day when her mother refused to buy the stuffed animal she had clutched in her chubby little hand.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Open my mouth wide.
And scream.
TEN DIFFERENT TYPES OF