Three Evil Wishes
““We’ll keep the garage dark,” I said breathlessly. “I’ll stand my sculpture of you behind the worktable. I’ll tell the genie that you are the one we picked to go in the bottle.”
“Huh? Me?” Jesse gasped, leaping over a tall, round rock. “Why does it have to be me?”
“It won’t really be you,” I told him, panting hard as I ran. The back of the garage came into view. “You hide in the back of the garage. We want the genie to think that the sculpture is you. We want the genie to put the sculpture in the bottle. That way, we’ll be safe.”
We reached the front of the garage, gasping and panting.
“Will it work?” Jesse asked. “Will it fool him?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, struggling to catch my breath. “Maybe if it’s dark enough, he’ll fall for it.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe . . .” I crossed my fingers and prayed for good luck.
We both hoisted up the garage door.
I moved quickly to my worktable. I uncovered my life-size sculpture of Jesse.
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