Three Wishes: This didn't go as planned!

From Jeanie's Perspective

Abel shoved me, hard, back out the door. I hadn't had time to see whatever was in there, but judging on his stiff shoulders, nothing good.

Had it been the census people? Jake?

I frowned. While I was thinking, the door disappeared.

Great. I should have made it loyal to more people than just Abel, but that wouldn't have fit within the wish parameters.

I strolled around Boston, simmering. If Abel came back for me, all he would just have to ask the door to find me. It was pretty aware of the world around it, and from what I could tell, pretty disdainful.

I finally sat on a pier and cried. More like sniffled, really. You'd think a girl who'd been alive for millennia wouldn't cry, but I'd only been aware of fifty years, and even old people cry. Besides, I always felt young when I woke up. Reborn.

No one noticed, gratefully, that I was crying. I was glad, not sure my pride could have taken anymore. I'd already had Abel use a wish on me. What kind of genie did that make me?

The tears became bitter cold and I wrapped Abel's coat around me. It wasn't as cold as Montana was, this time of year, but the sea-wind could rip right through you.

Then, down by the surf, a red door appeared. I sat, waiting for Abel to come out of it. The door had probably made itself at a distance out of spite, making Abel walk some time to get to me.

But no Abel appeared.

Hesitantly, I walked away from the pier. The beach was empty. The door hovered over the waves, making me get my feet wet to get to it. Would it even open?

It did, grudgingly.

I frowned, worried. The door did not like me. The only reason it would open for me was if Abel had directly told it to.

Stepping through, I found dimness. There were gargling splashes from across the room, interspersed with gasps.

The door had gone into stealth mode, not letting any light from the beach in. I closed the door softly.

I was behind a guerilla rack of pliers and pokers and tubes. There were other things I won't describe.

Beyond that, a broad shouldered fellow was waterboarding Abel.

I felt my shoulders tense up around my ears.

No. I had to breathe.

I stepped around the guerilla rack on soft feet.