Henry Winsor was not a man who believed in wishes, until he met the men who made them.
When Henry and his best friend, Myron, need them most, a pair of genies stumble into their lives, promising good fortune and a bright future--for a price.
In one...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Henry picked a stray Monopoly house from the pile of bills while Myron finished tucking Keenan in for the night.
Whenever he looked too closely at the pile in front of him, the numbers started to swim before Henry's eyes. The only sensations keeping him grounded were the cool plastic of the calculator in his hand and the incessant bangs emanating from the radiator along the wall.
Myron tossed him a blanket as he sat down in the wooden chair across the table. Henry watched his frown deepen and his eyes shift back and forth, comparing the budget to the electric and water bills.
"We could really use some free parking right about now," Henry said, letting the calculator slip out of his hand and onto the table.
Myron laughed but there was no warmth in it.
They had already been stretched thin for months. Without Henry's paycheck, they were going to have to get...creative.
"I talked to a guidance counselor today, the kids should be starting free lunches next week." Myron leafed through our expense record, "that should save us ten peanut-butter-and-jelly-sandwich's worth a week."
It wasn't near enough, but it was a start.
"What about selling some things? Some of the non-essential furniture maybe?" Henry got up to peruse the cabinets, "The nice plates? Some of the small appliances?"
Myron motioned for Henry to put the toaster back in the cabinet. "Not unless we have to. I'm going to call Tommy tomorrow, see if he has any more house-painting gigs coming up."
Henry plopped back down at the table, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "You should check with Pam too, down the street. I heard she's got some odd jobs she's looking to get done."
Myron nodded and swiped up the calculator. "What about you?"
"Unemployment office, 8.am. sharp."
Myron didn't look up from his calculations. "They don't open until 9."
"Unemployment office, 9a.m. sharp." That one got a chuckle out of him. "I've also got a few networking connections I'll phone up tomorrow. Maybe one of them has an opening."
Myron sighed and laid the calculator back down. "Let's hope so."
His brown eyes were so tight, like all of his worries were threatening to spill over. Like the weight of the world was starting to wear his shoulders down.
Myron closed his eyes and touched his forehead and temple. "And what about cleats for Keenan? Tryouts are coming up."
"We still have some of that Christmas money from my aunt left over, right?"
Just then there was a loud pop. Both men looked toward the radiator, which had finally stopped banging.
"Don't tell me--" Myron leaned back in his chair and hovered a hand over the metal surface. Then he touched it. "It finally gave up."
"Well," Henry tried for a smile, "at least out electric bill won't be as high this month."
Myron picked up the loose Monopoly house and threw it at Henry, who dodged. Then he sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a miracle right now."
Their eyes widened at the sound of two more pops, this time from the direction of the door. When the smoke cleared, Henry and Myron found themselves face-to-face with two men.
One in a shirt and tie. One with skin the color of an overripe tomato.
The one in the tie stepped forward. "Did someone order a miracle?"
