The Wishmonger, New Fiction for Steemit, Episode 17 & Links to other episodes

Finally he seemed satisfied and walked back to the car. The mayor opened and held the door for him. They both climbed in and the limousine sped down the hill, stopping so the mayor could hop out to close and lock the gate. The mayor turned nervously and looked back up the hill to their hiding place. Both boys gulped! Then he climbed in and the limousine roared away.

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“Whoah! What was that all about?” Joey turned to Roger who sat speechlessly watching the speeding limousine.

“I’m not sure but it seems like our friend in black has every intention of beating us to that key.” Roger let himself down from his perch and scrambled down the hill to retrieve the bike and wheelchair.

When Roger and Joey wheeled into the driveway of Roger’s house his father was packing the picnic things into the trunk of his car, “There you are. We were just about to leave without you,” he joked.

Joey laughed, “What, and eat all that chicken by yourself?”

“Jeanie was going to help, of course,” Roger was glad to hear his Dad in such a great mood, “Roger, grab that other camp chair out of the garage. It’s on the top shelf.”

Roger climbed the stepladder and tugged the nylon, folding chair off the shelf. Behind it Roger saw the corner of a carton. It was exactly like the pressboard cartons in the library basement. Roger had just spent the better part of two days filling a rental truck with every earthly possession the Pine family owned, and he was certain this had not been among them.

“Hey, what’s the hold up with that chair?” James Pine stood smiling, with hands on hips, watching Roger

Roger looked at the carton wistfully. It would have to wait. Besides, there had to be millions of boxes like that, it was probably left here by the previous owners. He tossed the chair in the trunk, and helped his Dad fit Joey’s chair between the picnic basket and the cooler.

“Boy that salesman was right when he sold me on the big trunk. I never thought I’d need all this space, but look at that.” He ruffled Roger’s hair and shut the trunk.

Picnic blankets decorated the library lawn like a giant patchwork quilt. Roger and Joey helped carry the picnic things to a spot near Joey’s parents and then hurried off to enjoy the festival. The last night of the festival of wishes was like New Years and the fourth of July rolled into one. The boys bought sparklers, noisemakers, and party hats. A big band played in the bandstand. Clowns strolled through the crowd making balloon animals, and a stilt walker juggled flaming batons, it was great!

At eight o’clock, on the dot, the band stopped. The stilt-walker blew out his batons and the clowns tied off their last balloons. The crowd began to migrate toward the bandstand where a podium had been erected for the annual mayor’s address. Roger and Joey found their parents. Both boys were curious to hear what the mayor would have to say. They wondered if the events of the afternoon would color the evening.

At precisely five after eight a busy little man with a large red bowtie took the stage. He walked excitedly to the microphone, “My name is Herbert McEldrew. As many of you know it has been my honor to serve as deputy mayor of our fine town for more than twenty years.” A few hoots and a ‘way to go Herb’ greeted this introduction.

“Thank you, thank you very much. I hope that you all have enjoyed our seventy-fifth annual Festival of Wishes! Now, without further adieu, it is my pleasure to introduce to you the man that has made this wonderful evening a reality. In truth, without his generous family, our little burg would not exist. Please welcome our Mayor, Mr. Ishmael Wish!”

There was a flurry of applause as Mayor Ishmael Wish walked to the microphone, “Thank you! Thank you Herb for those kind words, and thank you citizens of Wishful for your warm welcome. As Herb so graciously mentioned it has been my honor to follow in the footsteps of my father, grandfather, and great grandfather as mayor of Wishful. On this the seventy-fifth anniversary of the founding of wishful it is my privilege to bring to the microphone the lady of the evening, the queen of this fair festival, Miss Wish, Lacy Gillespie!”

A highschool girl mounted the steps of the bandstand. She wore a red evening gown and a gilt banner that proclaimed her as ‘Miss Wish’.

“As is our custom on this occasion I will now ask Miss Wish to make the ceremonial wish for continued prosperity and health in the coming year. Following that she will be giving her rendition of “When You Wish Upon a Star,” the mayor proclaimed, dropping a golden coin into her hand.

The crowd collectively held their breath as Lacy flipped the coin in a perfect arc toward the water of the “official fountain of wishes” which was conveniently placed on the bed of a trailer parked next to the bandstand.

“Joey, look!” Roger hissed. His attention had been drawn to the steps of the library. The boys watched as a dark shadow bolted down the stair, flashed across the lawn weaving through the crowd toward the bandstand. Amazingly it seemed as if the two boys were the only ones to see the little old man until he reached the steps of the bandstand, “that’s Matthias.”

By now the whole crowd was aware of the storyteller as he leaped between the girl and the fountain. Just as the coin reached the peak of its travel, his grizzled hand shot out and snatched the golden disk, then, he was gone!