A Potion Place Story (of Multiple Transformations)
by grapehyacinth
The phone rang, and Carleton picked it up, his hand shaking with excitement. He had been waiting years for this call.
“So? Tell me, Charles. Are they going to get Wintergreen?” he exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly.
The long silence on the end told him all he needed to know. He took a deep, measured breath and murmured, “You can't be serious. You can't be.”
“Carl, what can they do to him? He's not breaking any laws.”
“He's doing worse than breaking laws! He's selling transformation potions to silly children who have no idea what they're dealing with! He's harnessing the powers of the universe, placing them into little vials, and selling them to idiots who use them to become...space heaters!”
“No harm's been done. He does carefully select whom he allows to even see his store.”
“But this is not children's play! It's like...selling alcohol to minors.”
“Sorry, Carleton. The committee's decided to just keep an eye on him for now. He's damned powerful too, although he keeps such a low profile, you'd never know it. I wouldn't want to cross Lance Wintergreen. Ever.”
“He still needs to be controlled. Selling potions like they're party favors is unacceptable. I won't have it.”
“You have no choice, Carleton. Will I see you at the next chess match? You were a hell of a knight the other day.”
“Damn it, no. Wintergreen might show his face. Then I don't know what I'll do.”
“Oh, come on. He's a nice guy. Are we forgetting all the great times we've had with him?”
This was all too much. Lance Wintergreen was a danger, and he needed to be stopped. Did any of the people in the magical community have any idea how disastrous these potions could be in the wrong hands? What if he just went around and transformed people whenever they wanted?
Maybe that was just the thing to do.
“I'm going to show the committee how wrong they are,” Carleton growled.
“Don't do anything drastic. Please.”
“I will. You watch me.”
Carleton had always been a good person. He was law-abiding, whether it was following the rules of the magical community or the non-magical. He had never caused a problem, and never hurt a soul. But he was also never ignored.
This is what infuriated him. Although it was a while since he had sat on any committees, the higher-ups in his community had always respected his opinions and had always acted according to his suggestions.
But now, for whatever reason, they did not see Wintergreen for the threat he was.
Yes, Lance Wintergreen was careful in whom he chose to bestow his magicks upon, but he should not be allowed to give them to people who did not know how to use them.
They were not for children to fool around with.
If one did not understand the mysteries of the universe, they should not be allowed to tinker with them. And he would have to make this clear.
He stopped in front of the large park at the end of the block. Sunset Park boasted miles of fields, a tennis court and baseball diamond, an enormous playground, and a pond flanked by gardens. Children of all ages were scattered about on this bright Saturday afternoon, while many of their parents sat on a grouping of picnic tables in a shady area. Most were reading or chatting; none were paying the least bit of attention to where their children were.
He shuddered. This could be an evil wizard's dream come true. So many children, so little time...
But he wasn't evil, and he wasn't looking to hurt anyone. He would teach the elders a lesson while letting the children have fun beyond their wildest dreams.
He studied a group of young girls nearest to him and smiled. They looked to be about eight or nine, and the bunch seemed to have been selected by some politically-correct organization. One girl was black, one was white, one Asian, and one Hispanic. Wistful, he remembered how decades earlier this would have been unheard of – he still recalled how angered his mother had been when he had befriended a young man from India. “It doesn't look good for the family,” she had scolded him, and he had laughed in her face. He had never understood racism. People were people, whatever color they were. So, through the decades, the world was definitely becoming more civilized – all due to education.
Now, if that would just extend to Lance Wintergreen and his choice of customers...
“We'll fix that,” Carleton murmured to himself. He approached the young girls, who stopped playing and studied him. “Hi, girls,” he began. “Did you see my dog go by here? A little white one?”
The Asian girl looked around. “Sorry, I didn't see him.”
“Did any of you see him?”
“Sorry, Mister. We're playing butterfly princess. We haven't seen any dogs.”
Carleton's heart skipped a beat. He had his chance. It was perfect.
Making sure none of the adults were watching, he stepped closer to the girls. “What if you could actually be butterflies?” he whispered tantalizingly.
The four studied him with worry. “My mom is right over there.” The black girl pointed at the adults.
“Oh, girls, I'm not going to hurt you!” Carleton said. “Watch!” he picked up a rock, passed his hand over it, and it burst into light. A butterfly was left in its place, which fluttered away.
The girls' mouths fell open, and they rushed towards him. “Really? You can make us into butterflies?”
“Please, do it! I want to be a butterfly!” cried the Hispanic girl.
He smiled. “I sure can!”
“Will it hurt if you do?” the white girl whimpered.
“Not at all! It's quick and fun!”
“Do it! Do it!” they all shrilled.
“Make me a monarch! Me first!” The Asian girl stood before him, holding her arms out in the air.
Carleton, grinning to himself, grabbed both of her arms, and the girl's body was shrinking.
“Weeee!!!” she cried, “I'm changing!” and her voice died away. A butterfly now stood in her place, testing its wings.
The other three girls shrieked and danced around in delight.
“Watch out! Don't step on her!” Carleton warned. “Now who's next?”
The Hispanic girl stood before him. “Make me a yellow butterfly.”
She shrank into a graceful tiger swallowtail, joining her monarch friend on the grass.
The other two girls became a viceroy and a buckeye butterfly, and Carleton watched the four crawling through the grass, testing their new legs. “Wonderful, isn't it, girls? Get used to walking on those six legs quickly so you can start flying. I don't want you to get crushed.”
Thank you, thank you so much, Mister! He heard in his mind.
“You like it?” he asked.
It's wonderful! Thank you so much!
“Just be careful, okay?”
Okay!
Carleton threw a protection spell on the new insects as they flew off. He didn't want the girls to get hurt.
Happy that he had made the children's lives so wonderful, he looked for his next target. He found it running right at him.
“Hey, can you help me? I swear these guys are going to kill me!”
The boy was about high school age, and he truly looked scared. A group of three large teens was racing towards him. One had a knife.
“Why do they want to kill you?” Carleton questioned calmly. The approaching boys reminded him vaguely of charging bulls.
“I'm dating that guy's ex-girlfriend. They hate me for it.”
Carleton nodded. “Well, I actually can help you. What can we do to keep them from killing you?”
The boy looked at him strangely. “Uh, kill them?”
“I'm not a murderer, uh...”
“My name is John. Hurry, they're coming! Help me!”
“I can transform you if you want.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I can change people.”
“Right, Mister. I have to get the hell out of here...”
But the boys were almost on him. “Hey, John, you are so dead!” one yelled.
“Well, if you could turn me into a rock, that would work. No one could hurt me then,” the boy said in a sarcastic voice.
“Let's do it!”
The surprised boy stiffened at Carleton's touch. His hands fell to his sides, merging with them. His form began to shake, and he pushed open his mouth to exclaim, “I'm turning...to stone!” in true amazement.
“Oh, I'm going to make you a nice imposing one too!” Carleton smiled, concentrating on the youth.
As the boy began to enlarge, he lost all semblance of human form. He was now more of a lump, growing larger and harder at the same time. “Yess!” he gasped as the features on his face froze in place.
Meanwhile, the other boys had reached them. They stopped, simply watching in shock.
“Holy shit,” one muttered.
“Quiet,” Carleton snapped, “Let me finish transforming him!”
John was over seven feet and still growing. “I'm gonna make you a mini-mountain, kid!” Carleton cried with glee.
Soon a ten-foot boulder towered over them. It still had a smile on its top surface.
Thanks, it said in Carleton's mind. I feel awesome.
“Happy to help, kid.” He turned to John's pursuers, who seemed rooted in place. “So what did this boy really do to deserve this?” he yelled.
The ringleader's knife shook in fear. “What the hell are you, man?”
“A wizard,” Carleton said placidly. “Now I ask you again, why hurt this young man? He doesn't seem to deserve death.”
“He took my girlfriend.”
“I heard she was your ex-girlfriend.”
“Still!”
Carleton studied the boys carefully. What to do with them?
“Please, Mister, we can't move. Let us go.”
They could definitely help with his plans. “No. I need you.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one, you should be punished. Going after a kid with a knife? You're like...” he smiled to himself. “Dogs.”
With that, he held up his arms, and an electricity seemed to penetrate the air.
And the boys were shrinking.
“NO! What the hell are you...”
“I'm getting fur! Shit, I—”
“Dogs. You're dogs,” the wizard repeated.
And three dogs were yapping at him angrily.
“Oh, get away!” Carleton shooed at them, but they didn't budge.
“Away, or I'll turn you into worms and give you to those fishermen over by the pond!”
The dogs ran off, and Carleton clapped his hands together, grinning at the rock. “You're all set, John. Are you happy like that, guy?”
It's awesome! Can I stay like this for a bit? I feel so powerful and indestructible! Those guys couldn't kill me if they tried!
Carleton marveled at how kids never thought about anything but the present. They didn't worry about the fact that their family would be frantic over their disappearance, or how, if it was even possible, they could return to their human form.
“Sure! Enjoy!”
***
“Look at the butterflies, Kalma!” one of the young butterfly-girl's mothers gasped. Four different butterflies fluttered above the women.
“Oh, they're different colors! Hey, Katherine! That one landed on you!”
“This one's flapping its wings at me! I have to show the girls!” she stood up, craning her neck.
“Uh, girls? Makayla? Selma?”
Katherine jumped up in alarm. “Where are they?”
Kalma cried, “They're...oh my God, girls? Where are you?”
“Probably just wandered off. Let's go look for them!”
***
Another group of younger girls sat around a Candy Land game board.
“Wouldn't you love to be little candies, girls?”
The girls looked up at the handsome stranger longingly. “Yes!”
“I'm Carleton, a very magical man. Would you like me to turn you into some?”
“As long as no one eats me,” one girl whined.
“Well, don't you think candies want to be eaten?”
The girl pondered this. “Probably. But I don't want that.”
“Okay, we'll make sure you're not eaten. Ready, girls?”
“Make me pink!”
“Make me blue!”
“Make me rainbow!!”
“Fine, fine. Each of you curl yourself into a ball. The change is more fun that way!”
Each child curled into a ball, giggling. “We're ready!”
“Here we GO!”
Each child shuddered and then simply popped, leaving a giggling sucking candy in her place.
“Like it, girls?”
The candies shook and tumbled about. “Yess!!!” they all cried at once.
“It tickles!”
“We can talk? We're candies that can talk?”
“Yes! Of course! It's the most fun that way!” Carleton realized that this might help his cause considerably. Too bad he hadn't made the butterflies and dogs capable of speech.
***
“Girls, are you hiding? You left the Candy Land game out! I told you to clean up after yourselves!”
Kate Brown had brought her two girls and their twin cousins to the park so their aunt could have some time to herself. All she needed to do now was lose her sister's kids...
“Girls? What's that?” She stared at the candies, which seemed to be writhing. Probably bugs were eating them. But she hadn't given the kids candy, so where had they come from? She looked up in alarm. Had a stranger tempted them with sweets and then kidnapped them?
“Girls? Where are you?” she shrieked.
“Right here, Mommy!” squeaked a tiny voice.
She followed the sound to where it emanated from. The candies.
“What the hell is that?” She picked up a candy, wondering if there were some kind of microphone attached.
“Hi Mommy! Aren't I cute like this?”
The moving face of her daughter on the candy's surface horrified her so much that she dropped the candy to the ground.
It and its companions giggled.
“Scared you, Aunt Kate! You like us like this? That man turned us into candy! It's so much fun!!”
The candies giggled even more, bumping against each other, and Kate fished one up, unable to speak. This candy contained the face of her niece Audra, which winked at her.
“I'm a rainbow candy, Aunt Kate. I like being candy. It feels nice.”
“What...what is this?” Kate breathed. “It's...impossible...there's got to be an explanation. Audra, where are you, really?”
The candy in her hand rolled over. “Here in your hand, Aunt Kate. I'm telling you, get that guy to turn you into candy! You'll feel so happy!”
Still not quite convinced, Kate fished up the four candies and tossed them into her purse. They began to yell out in protest.
Her mouth fell open as the truth loomed over her. Somehow, someone had transformed little girls into candies, as impossible as it seemed. And she had to get this reversed.
***
“Are you sad that Mommy's not paying attention to you, little girl?”
Carleton looked down at the child sitting on the grass at her mother's feet. She wasn't playing with the dolls laid out before her. She was merely staring into space.
“Mommy's always texting.”
Making sure he was invisible to the woman, he observed her texts, grimacing. “Mickey, take me away. Jeb is so not husband material. Last night he hit me.”
He could only imagine the home life this poor child had.
“Little girl,” he began.
“My name is Emmy.”
“Emmy, would you like to turn into whatever you want?”
She looked up, her eyes filling with hope. “Really?”
“Yes! If you could be anything, what would it be?”
She stood up in excitement. “I always wanted to be a balloon! Can you do that?”
“Sure!”
“Can you like, make me one, then blow me up?”
He chuckled to himself. Being inflated was always amusing...when one was a balloon, at least. “Yup! And it's a lot of fun, too! Hold on tight!”
Through all of this, the mother hadn't even looked up, even though her daughter was conversing with an invisible man. Carleton placed a charm on her so she wouldn't look up for the remainder of the encounter.
“Weeeeee!” the girl cried as she lost shape. Her skin grew blue and rubbery and she shrank to the ground with a sound of air escaping. Soon, she flapped to the earth, an smiling balloon.
“Oh, I love it! Blow me up! Please!”
Carleton fetched the quivering object. “Well, I can't exhale helium, so we'll magic it into you. First, a string,” he plucked a shiny ribbon from the air and tied it to the balloon's neck, “and then, inflate!”
“Ooo!” the girl cried in delight as she began to expand. “Thank you! Thank you! I'm getting so big! More! More!”
Carleton allowed her to get bigger than a balloon her size normally could get. Then he tied her to the tree next to her mother.
“Hey!” she balked. “I want to fly into the sky!”
“Now, Emmy, how would your mother find you if you blew away?”
He secured her string and disappeared.
***
Kate had heard her cousin tell her once about a “Potion” shop in town, but she had always dismissed it as new-age nonsense. Yet, having no idea where to turn, she called her cousin anyway, hoping this was all a big nightmare, and maybe she was simply hallucinating...
Her niece Caroline picked up the phone.
“Caroline,” she cried, “Is your mother home?”
“No, she just went out. I'm visiting her. You need help, Kate? You sound...scared.”
“Caroline, God, I know this sounds...impossible, but...see, the kids were gone, and I couldn't find them, and then there were these talking...candies in their place, and your mom said there was this Potion Place, and...oh, God, it sounds like insane gibberish, but it's true, and–”
Caroline sucked in her breath. “Kate, you need Mr. Wintergreen.”
***
“This stray dog is trying to tear my door down, Janet. I don't understand it. Where did it come from, and why is it howling at my door?” Tess Handling shook her head in frustration. “Like I need this now, right? So, again, you really have no idea where the boys are?”
“Tom said they're going to the park. Who knows what they're doing there. Hey, you said a dog...there's one sitting in my front yard too. What's that all about? Look, I'll talk to you later.”
Janet Milner hung up the phone and went outside to investigate. The scruffy terrier immediately jumped up on her, wagging its tail and making odd barks. They almost sounded like words.
“Hey, boy, where'd you come from? Are you trying to tell me something?”
The frustrated animal ran in a circle, nodding, and then something seemed to dawn on it. It ran past Janet into her house, and started typing as best as it could on the computer keyboard.
“Mom help. He turned me into a dog.”
***
“You like horses, Mel?”
The boy watched the horses on the other side of the fence, his eyes full of longing. He didn't even think to ask how this stranger knew his name. “They're so nice. I always wished I could have one. We don't have the money or the land for it.”
“Want to be one?”
The teen eyed the man with distrust. “Well, I'd love that, if it were possible.”
“It is, and you'll be a nice one.”
***
The “Potion Place” was definitely not a place that Kate Brown would ever have gone into, but Caroline seemed very familiar with it. She pulled her aunt inside and led her straight over to the counter, where a graying man sat calmly.
“This is my Aunt Kate, Mr. Wintergreen. She needs you.”
“Welcome, Kate. Caroline says you have a problem.”
“I am. I'm going insane. My kids were turned into candy. I'm dreaming, and–”
“Let me see them.”
Kate dumped the four candies on the counter, silently daring the man to prove her wrong.
“Hey! Aunt Kate let us out!”
“Yay!” cried the candies.
The man studied them. “Hi, girls. Having fun?”
There was a chorus of yeses. “Even being in the pocketbook was fun!!” squeaked the orange candy.
“Ah,” he said, glancing back up at Kate, then turning to her niece. “Being candy can be quite amusing, right, Caroline?”
“Sure can!”
The woman stared back and forth between her niece and the man. Then her gaze focused on the shelves of bottles that lined the store walls. One label was odder than the next: “Dog for a Day”, “Be a Bookworm”, “Making a Mountain or a Molehill”, “Ultimate Potion, MEGA”, “Spaghetti Serum”...
“'Spa...ghetti'?” the women breathed.
“We tried that one the other day by mistake,” chuckled Caroline.
“It's real...my kids are candy...” She teetered on her legs.
Mr. Wintergreen fished up the yellow one. “Yup, and I'm sure they're sweet as can be!”
“Please taste me,” the candy said.
“Oh, my God! No!” Kate shouted, pulling the treat from his grasp and cradling it in her arms.
He laughed. “I won't, but it wouldn't hurt them. If this is the work of who I think it is, she's fine. And you have to understand, when you're a candy, your biggest wish is to be eaten!”
“That's horrible!”
“Nope, it's fun!”
Kate stared down at the yellow candy in her hand. What did it feel like to be a solid, round sphere? Had it hurt to be transformed? It couldn't be that bad, because the girls seemed to be having the time of their life.
“Can you put me down so I can roll around a bit?”
The comment bothered Kate so much, she almost dropped the sweet. Then she began to wonder if that would kill the girl if she fell to the floor as a candy...
“Who did this, Mr. Wintergreen?” she ventured in a venomous voice.
“We're going to find that out once I change your girls back.”
“NO!” screamed the candies.
“Shut up, you...diabetic nightmares, you...oh, my God, you're really our kids...” Kate broke down in tears.
***
“Janet, a man turned our kids into dogs! The dog out there was Ted!”
“I know it is! And so is Bobby! And they turned John Miranda into a rock! I'm meeting his mom and Bobby's at the park right now! Come with us!”
Followed by two dogs, the two hysterical women made their way to Sunset Park.
***
“Mommy, can you let me loose, please?”
“Not now, Emmy.”
“Mommy, look at me! I'm a balloon!”
“Very nice, Emmy.”
“LOOK AT ME, DAMN IT!”
Sheryl, the surprised mother, finally looked up from her phone. Her daughter never spoke this way. “Hey, language!!” She stood up, attempting to locate where her daughter's voice was emanating from. “Where are you?”
“Here. Tied to the tree.”
“Who tied you to a tree?” she cried angrily. “But...I just see a balloon.”
“Didn't you hear me? I AM the balloon!”
“Very funny. Now where are you?” Sheryl walked to the bobbing balloon and poked at it in wonder. “It's got your face, and,” she let out a shriek, “it's moving! That's so freaky!” she looked behind it. “Who did this, and how did they do it?”
“Oh, Mommy. It's real, and it's me, okay? When you were texting, this magic guy granted my wish. Now can you let me go so I can fly through the sky?”
The way the face moved so perfectly and realistically made Sheryl wonder if it somehow were truly her daughter. When she pushed her finger into the balloon's mouth and a rubbery tongue pushed back at her, she screamed again.
“Stop that, Mommy!”
She gathered up the balloon. “We're going to the police!”
***
After transforming the majority of the park's young visitors, Carleton retired home to watch the results. As he had hoped, the news was full of it.
“Unsettling Events in Sunset Park” flashed across the screen.
“Missing children, stray horses, talking objects... something odd is going on in a small neighborhood park, and police are trying to get to the bottom of it. When a woman claiming a talking balloon was her daughter entered the local police station, the officers thought she was crazy. But the balloon insists she is her daughter, and we have this on tape. Meanwhile, three dogs are typing on computers to tell us they're really three teenagers...” The reporter was speaking in front of a large rock, which she tapped on. “And this rock suddenly appeared from nowhere. The dogs say it's really a boy, as does Fern, the mother of John Miranda, who right now is missing. This is Mrs. Miranda.”
Fern was staring at the rock. “You can't tell me this is my son. I don't believe it. There's no proof.”
“But my boy is a dog, and they said that's John! If Tom can turn into a dog, why can't John become a rock?” said another woman. Her gaze fell far off where three dogs played frisbee with each other.
The reporter continued, “These three ladies are mothers of the boys that supposedly turned into dogs. They insist this rock is John. And if you look,” she pointed up to a crevasse in the rock that looked strikingly like a grin, “he seems to be very happy about it.”
Carleton settled back in his chair and folded his hands together. “As am I.”
***
“Your name is John?” Lance Wintergreen asked the enormous new rock that graced Sunset Park.
Yes.
“Show me in your mind who turned you into a rock.”
A picture of Carleton subsequently flashed into Lance's mind, and he let out a breath. “Why is he doing this?” he wondered aloud. A ring from his cell phone provided the answer.
“Wintergreen?”
“Yes, Samuel.”
“You see what's going on here?”
“I'm checking into it. It's Carleton. But why?”
“Because of you. He doesn't like what you do.”
“I know, but...”
“He wants to show what happens when it gets out of hand, but this is the wrong way to go about it. He's damaging society! They can't know!”
“I'll take care of it. It's my mess.”
“Yes, we are all hoping you can take care of it. Bring him in. Sadly, he'll need to be punished. I think you and I know how that will be done.”
Mr. Wintergreen sighed. He was not one to punish people. He wanted only to bring joy to people's lives.
***
“Lance, we've got to get on this. It's worse than we thought. It's becoming national news. Video of the girl-balloon is viral, the dogs are on the late night shows... We have to do some major memory-erasing, I don't know how we'll get it out of the media... We have to form a committee to make this go away. It's too much for one man.”
“No, Samuel, that's not what we're going to do.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We're going to remove Carleton from the timeline so it never happened.”
***
“I want to help you stop this guy, Mr. Wintergreen. Let me come with you.”
Lance sighed, regarding Caroline. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing, to have backup. After all, Carleton was a dangerous man.
“Fine. Follow me in a different form. Be a bird.”
“Why? And what are you going to do with that vial and that blue bottle you're holding?”
Lance's eyes narrowed. “This bottle is for later,” he said, placing it into a bag he had slung over his shoulder, “and this,” he held up the small red cylinder, “is a memory vial. It'll save his memories.”
“Why do you need to?”
“When I remove him from the timeline, from before he did all the damage, he won't know what he did. It'll be like none of this ever happened.”
“Okay, but?”
“He won't have done it, so he'll have no memory of what he's being punished for. So we'll give them back.”
“So, you're saying you can go back in time and stop him?”
“Yes.”
***
“Very few people can affect time,” Lance said to the bird that fluttered above him as they made their way to Carleton's house.
“But you can.”
“Honestly, and I'm no braggart, but I know you well enough to admit...Well, I'm pretty powerful, Caroline.”
“I know, but...”
“And it's usually frowned upon, messing with the timeline. But everyone agrees it's the best way to handle this particular situation.” They stopped in front of a small, neat ranch. “This is it, and he's sitting inside.”
“How do you know that? Do you sense him or something?”
“No, I see him through the front window.”
Caroline chuckled, and followed him as he crept around to the back of the house.
When they paused behind a large juniper, a loud laugh echoed through a nearby window.
“So they sent you, Lance. What irony!”
Carleton peered at them calmly through the screen.
Lance, just as calm, shook his head. “Carleton, I just don't understand how someone like you could do something like that. You're not a bad person.”
“No, quite the contrary. But what you do is dangerous, entrusting people with things they don't understand. All these years I've believed it, and even more so when I learn of what your little bird-friend up there has done with your magicks.”
“I'm very careful,” the bird that was Caroline snapped from the twig she was perched on.
“Maybe now, but you weren't always. And those erotic statues you and your boyfriend like to be,” Carleton stuck out his tongue, “absolutely tasteless!”
“I'm not here to criticize people's taste in art,” Lance said, quietly pulling the memory vial from his pocket.
Carleton spied it and snorted. “First of all, a vial, Lance? Couldn't you at least find it in your heart to give me a pretty bottle to get sucked into?”
Lance unscrewed the vial's cap.
“Second, it won't work. I've bound myself to this house. You can't suck me into any bottles.”
The cap came off with a pop. “I'm not,” murmured Lance.
A small spark flew from the vial and met with Carleton's scalp. “AA!” He grasped at his head. “What are you doing to me, you bastard?”
The sound of rushing air echoed about, and the cap screwed onto the vial on its own. Carleton looked down at himself confusedly, brushing at his clothes as if he'd been spattered with mud.
“Thanks for the memories, Carleton!”
“What the hell does that mean?”
But Lance Wintergreen and his companion disappeared.
***
“Mr. Wintergreen, I can't believe you just brought us back in time. It's amazing you can even do that,” breathed Caroline, coming to rest on a nearby tree.
“There's plenty about me you don't know, and it's probably better that way,” he uttered, surveying the park before him. As it was still full of children, he let out a relieved breath. Having investigated Carleton's memories, he knew exactly when and where the wizard would begin his misguided activities. Extracting the blue bottle from his bag and rendering himself invisible, he stood in wait.
The young soon-to-be-butterfly-girls strode around, oblivious to what their future might or might not hold. “You know, being a butterfly is fun,” Caroline commented from her branch. “I almost feel bad that they're not going to get the chance to do it this time around.”
Lance fidgeted with the blue bottle, thinking back to all Caroline's misadventures with his potions. She had done some crazy things, it was true, but perhaps the worst was when one of her friends took his element potion and ended up merging with the earth.
That actually had gotten him nervous.
So maybe Carleton was not wrong. Perhaps he should not allow people outside the magical community to dabble in his potions? But they brought such joy to people; how could he deny anyone that?
“Hi, girls. Did you see my dog go by here? A little white one?”
“Mr. Wintergreen!” Caroline hissed. “He's here!”
But Carleton spun around, glaring in their direction. “Wintergreen? Are you there?”
Lance appeared, the bottle held out before him. “You want to grant wishes, Carleton? Do it from here!” He uncorked it, and a sickly rushing sound came forth, pulling at the wizard's figure.
In shock, Carleton could only stare. “How could you know what I'm going to do? How dare you?”
But there was no fighting the force of a genie bottle. The wizard was sucked in and it corked itself.
***
“Please let him out, Lance. The room has been sealed; he can't escape.”
Lance, in front of the Committee of Elders, nodded. Without a word, he uncorked the bottle, unleashing a surprised Carleton.
“Wintergreen! How did you know what I was going to do?” he demanded, ignoring the others in the room.
“Because you did it already,” muttered Lance, uncorking the memory vial.
When the memories hit Carleton, he grasped once more at his head. “It's like...electric current – oh –” His eyes grew wide, and a disturbing smile crept over his face. “That's the future? I'll be successful in stopping you?”
“Who says you stopped me?” Lance raised an eyebrow.
“I'll be damned if we let it happen once more!” Samuel jumped up and shouted. “He saved your memories and then went back in time to keep it from happening!”
Amazement now played across Carleton's face. “It was that bad that you were willing to alter the timeline to stop it?”
No one answered for a moment.
“Yes,” Lance finally replied.
“How could you, Carleton? What would possess you to do it?” asked Clara, another of the committee members.
“And children, Carl?” Charles exclaimed angrily. “I warned you not to act on this!”
Carleton was quick to defend himself. “I didn't hurt any of them! They wanted it! They loved it!”
“That's why I sell potions, Carleton,” Lance murmured quietly. “That joy that it produces–”
“No! No! Joy can be brought about in other ways! You can't do that! Don't you see what happens when you let...amateurs play with mystic forces? It's unacceptable!”
“What you did is unacceptable, Carleton,” Samuel said, his eyes dark.
“But I made my point, and I'm hoping this opened a lot of people's eyes in the magic community.”
A man named Ralph snickered. “The people in this room are the only ones who saved their memories before Lance went back in time. To the rest of the world, it's like you never did anything. No one else knows what happened. Sorry, Carleton.”
Carleton still remained calm. “Perhaps I opened your eyes, then,” he said. “Go think about all you've seen.” He cleared his throat. “Now get on with it. What's my punishment?”
The men and women glanced at each other. Then Lance stepped up, holding the bottle that had served as Carleton's temporary prison. “Get in,” he said.
Carleton regarded it. “I thought we're done with that. You caught me. I'm your prisoner.” Suddenly his eyes opened wide with realization. “No, you can't mean...”
“Genie,” was the response he received.
“Oh, hell, no. Anything but that!”
But Lance Wintergreen was already passing his hands over the bottle. This generated an odd blue glow that stretched towards Carleton. As it enveloped him, he tried to run but could not penetrate the bright aura.
Lance uncorked the bottle. “Good-bye, Carleton.”
The man began to grow transparent. “No, please! I hate genies!”
“Twenty-five years, Carleton!” Samuel called from behind Lance.
“Twenty-five?! No! I refuse to–”
His words were lost as he was sucked into the bottle.
Lance pushed in the cork as far as he could, and the room fell silent.
Samuel cleared his throat. “Please dispose of that, Lance.”
Lance took a deep, pitying breath. “Poor guy. Maybe I'll sell him in my shop.”
Samuel shrugged. “Fine. I feel sorry for the poor bastard that ends up with Genie Carleton, but it is what it is.”
***
“I'm down on my luck and I need help. What can you do for me, Mr. Wintergreen?”
Lance studied the young man who had entered his store. He could sense the misfortune in the man's life, and he had also recently been wounded in love.
“Well, I've got a first-time genie here who can help you if you're careful with how you phrase things. Can you handle that?” He held up Carleton's bottle.
The man looked dubious. “You're kidding me? For real?”
Lance stuck the bottle in his hand. “Try him out – pay me only if you're satisfied. Contact me if you're not.”
“If this really is true, don't genies always try to twist your wishes around and all that?” He studied the ornate object.
“Oh, there's all kinds of stories, but this guy is bound by a certain set of rules. He's harmless. In fact, why don't you try him out now?”
“Uh...okay...I just rub the bottle?”
“Yup!”
Like any good genie effect, blue smoke erupted from the bottle, depositing an angry Carleton before the two men. He wore a t-shirt and shorts.
The customer was speechless.
“Lance, you bastard!” yelled the genie.
“Nice outfit, oh genie of the lamp,” was Lance's response.
“It's a bottle, goddamnit,” he turned to the customer in annoyance. “Oh, hell. You're my master, now, huh, Mr...?”
“I'm...Dave.”
Carleton gave Lance a look of sheer disgust. “Dave, huh? Well, what kind of crap can I do for you?”
“Crap?” The man seemed taken aback at the genie's frankness. “Uh, don't I get three wishes?”
“Hell...” Carleton mumbled, then nodded, not removing his eyes from Lance.
“Well...I have to think about them, so let's get you back in the bottle for now, genie.”
“Hey, noooooooo! I'm going to kill you for this, Wintergreen!”
The cork closing Carleton back in silenced the genie's voice, and the customer smiled mischievously. “I'm going to have fun with this guy.”
Mr. Wintergreen cocked his head in fascination. “How?”
He chuckled. “Ever see 'I Dream of Jeannie'?”
“Why, yes, I–”
“We're gonna make that real.”