"The Wishmonger", Episode 46, Links to previous episodes

markrmorrisjr (70)in #fiction • 6 years ago

Today on The Wishmonger, Roger finds out what happened between his father and his uncle.###

Roger watched as his father crumpled into the chair. A cold rag and a few slaps on the wrist later his father stirred, “James, honey are you okay?” Roger’s mother had come running when he called.

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“I think so, what happened?”

Roger almost laughed, “ You fainted.”

His father shook his head and took a drink from the glass of water Roger held out, “I’m okay, now where were we?”

Roger’s mother stood at the end of the desk for another minute, until she was sure her husband had fully recovered, and then left the room shaking her head.

“Well, we know that uncle Benedict is taking over Wishful, and it looks like he wants to destroy it. What we don’t know is, why?” Roger said.

His father rubbed his eyes again, “I’m sure I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

Roger looked at the computer map again, “How long has he been buying these properties?”

With a few clicks of the mouse his father brought up a date,“Looks fairly recent, just a few years, why?”

“Too bad we don’t know how long it’s been since he found out about your parents.”

“You think it could be related?” his father shook his head, “I think somehow he’s always known.”

CHAPTER16
THE PAST COMES BACK

Roger sat in a chair next to the desk, “What was he like as a kid?”

“Shorter. He has always been as mean as he is now. Well except before he was blind…” his father stopped. He seemed to be deciding how much to tell him, “I guess you should know the whole story. When we were boys my parents-adopted parents I guess- ran a children’s home. There were always boys coming and going. Ben and I always shared a room. One night when we were about eleven I
woke up to find my brother gone. After searching the house I figured he must have sneaked out, so I grabbed my flashlight, put on my shoes, and climbed out the window. I remember that it was a bright moonlit night. I think it was October. Anyway, I finally found him with Ishmael Wish, and two other boys from the home, behind the Wish barn.”

“They had been swinging from the hayloft by a rope into a haystack and were now daring each other to jump without the rope. Ben dared me to do it and I said I would if he would go first, so we climbed up together. When we got to the top Ben was afraid to jump.” Tears began to well in his father’s eyes, “I said he was a chicken and I would tell everyone at school the next day if he didn’t jump. Ben never liked being called chicken so he jumped. There was a pitchfork buried in the middle of that hayloft. Ben’s forehead hit the end of its handle straight on. He lay unconscious for about a minute and then stood up as if everything was fine.

“By the time we made it home his vision was blurry. I had to lift him up over the porch roof and help him find the window. He wanted to tell my parents but I wouldn’t let him. My father would have killed us for sneaking out. I really believed he would be fine in the morning. He never saw again.”

James Pine had not told that story in years, tears came to his eyes in a flood, “For three years straight I made every wish I could. Even though I knew it was against the law, it was the only way I knew of to help my brother. I wished on the evening star, I wished on turkey wishbones, and every year without fail I threw coins into the fountain at the festival of wishes. But no matter how hard I wished my brother’s eyes remained blind and he just got meaner and meaner.”

“I guess my parents felt guilty because from then on anything Ben wanted, Ben got. Finally, on my sixteenth birthday, I made my last wish. When he woke up the next morning he pretended it had worked, just to tease me, I never wished again.”

Roger was exhausted. It was obvious they were not going to discover Benedict Pine’s master plan tonight. He kissed his mother. His father followed him upstairs to his bedroom, “Wow, Dad, I had no idea. Thanks for telling me.”

James picked up the box from the bed, “And thanks for telling me about this. Well, it seems we have a few days to sort this out. Maybe it will turn out okay in the end.”

As Roger drifted off to sleep the seeds of a plan began to sprout in his mind, but he would have plenty of time to think about it tomorrow. He had forgotten all about his uncle's threat and the forty-eight hour clock that was ticking.

In the darkened passages underneath Wishful, Benedict had found his way to the beast's lair once again.
The hissing serpentine voice filled the chamber, “He knows. It’s time!”

“I know, it’s just…” Benedict fought the urge to grovel at the beast’s feet, beg for more time. It wasn’t that he had any feelings for the brat, even though he was flesh and blood. It was just too messy. The plan had been so simple, a sneak attack, over before they knew what happened.

“Just what?” the voice thundered, “This is no time for weakness. The plan is almost complete. I should have known you would crumble, humans are all alike, weak sniveling wretches.”

Benedict faced the beast and tore the dark glasses from his eyes. He could feel the hot, sulfurous breath blast over him, “This is not the way I planned. This…”

“You!!? You were nothing but a quivering lump of hate and fear when I found you. I crafted your revenge, not you! I gave you focus and purpose, do not forget who serves here!” a leathery, taloned wing slapped him back.

Benedict spat, the taste of blood filled his mouth from the slap, “You needed me. I called you here. My hate fed you. You were nothing before I asked for your help. So, if you are so great as to fashion my revenge then carry it out without my help. You are helpless without my anger. I may be blind, but you…” he turned and stormed down the tunnel. Three steps into his retreat white-hot pain seared his eyes, and he fell to his knees.

The beast laughed, cruelly, “Yes, my friend, you are blind. And what “sight” you have comes from me, remember your bargain! This town is mine and your sight will be restored when I hold the key! Bring the boy to me and when this is finished I may let you live.”

With a rush of wind the beast took his leave. Soaring past Benedict and into the night.