The Wishing Well | ✔

• Two •

It was roughly ten o'clock. In the smallest room in the inn, Peter Wilkins tossed and turned on the rough and lumpy bed. Though they had managed to afford a hot dog for each of them at a stand in the street, his stomach still growled with hunger.

Looking over at his wife sleeping silently next to him, and his young daughter asleep in peaceful serenity, his heart was overwhelmed with love. But oh, how they suffered! How hard they had to work to make even a small living! All Peter had ever wanted was to make his family happy, but in the conditions they still lived in, he wondered why he ever even tried.

The moonlight seeped through the thin curtain, illuminating his daughter's face. I must find a way to help them, he thought. They need me, but we only end up struggling more instead of less. Why?

Finally giving up on getting a good night's rest, Peter slipped out onto the room's deck. Since they were on the 5th floor of the inn, he could see much of the town from there. A sea of lights still lit up the streets. People strolled along the sidewalks, some stopping at to enter a restaurant or store. Not far away, he noted the old well which Audra had tossed a coin into earlier that afternoon.

As Peter stood there, taking it all in, a sudden tumult seemed to come from the square surrounding the well. He squinted his eyes, unable to see what the commotion was all about. Striving to get a better view, he climbed down the several stories of decks until he found himself standing in the street in front of the inn. Without any more hesitation, he took off towards the well.

When he came to the said location, he was surprised to see that the four guards were holding a man hostage. The prisoner was crying out, "Please! Please! You don't understand! Please!"

Peter surprised even himself by making his way through the awed crowd, stepping in front of the guards and struggling prisoner. "What has this man done?" he demanded, shouting above the noise.

Three of the guards turned towards him in surprise. "He touched the well, mister," said one.

"Something that is unheard of in these parts!" growled another.

"Bah, not only touched it—he tried to climb in!" the third guard said.

"Please!" The old, prisoner continued to cry out. "I know the secret! Every coin that has ever been tossed—"

"Silence!" Hollered one of the guards.

Peter didn't take his eyes off of the prisoner. His beard was long, and his clothes were ragged much like his own. Though his face was wrinkled, his grey eyes portrayed gentleness.

The old man refused to be silent for long. "The wishes don't come true—"

"Of course they don't!" mocked one of the guards. "Don't you see that it's all just child's play?"

"But they do! Here they do come true! They only come true if—"

"Be quiet!"

"—if someone takes—"

"Stop!" The guard glared at him. "Say one more word, and you will be in big trouble."

"Please!" The prisoner cried out one last time. But the guards were now pulling him away, in the direction of the police station.

Audra's father stood near the well in stunned silence as he attempted to register what had just happened. The wishes come true, if someone takes...what?  He asked himself.

Frustrated, Peter stared at the well. What was going on? There was no stopping him now—he was determined to get to the bottom of this. Clearly, there was something strange and out-of-place here, given that such an old man would risk his freedom—possibly his very life—for whatever this old wishing well held.

After a moment of pondering the situation, Peter decided that the best move to make would be to climb down the well himself. If the old man had been trying to get down there, it must have meant that the bottom of the well held the secret.

The curious crowd began to dissipate; and after a few minutes, the place was back to normal. Except for one thing: the wishing well's guards had still not returned.