I Would Pick 'Wishing Well'

A friend of mine asked me, "If you were told you could let your imagination go wild with either 'a walk in the forest' or 'a wishing well,' which would you choose?" These are examples of my answer.

 

I.

“I’m at the bottom!”   After yelling up to his friends, Markus stood and let his sight become accustomed to the darkness at the bottom of the old wishing well. 

“You’re a moron for taking this dare!” he heard Becky call down as the rope pulled back up.

“Don’t chicken out,” warned Barnes from above, “The dare is ten minutes!”

He steadied himself, moving his feet to balance, and nearly fell over.  His hands pressed against the cool stone of the well’s wall.  When he lifted his hand, he felt a cool penny stick to his palm just before it fell.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with going into a dry wishing well, Beck!”  He stooped instinctively to find the penny in the dark, and as his hand splayed along the ground, he realized something was wrong.

            “There are no coins down here!” he yelled.  As he said it, he took the keychain flashlight out of his back pocket.  Scanning the dirt below him, there was not one glimmer of copper or silver.  Then he found the penny that had been stuck in the wall and fell off of his hand.  He picked it up and shone the light on it.  It was a 1902 Indian Head penny.  He put it in his pocket.

            “You’re messing with us,” Barnes said, the silhouette of his head creating a shadow in the dimness of the well.  “This well had been used for wishes for… eons!”

            “Decades, anyway,” Becky corrected.  “How can there be no coins?”

            Markus beamed the light around the very small space, watching the walls for more stuck pennies.  Then he stopped cold, his flashlight’s beam becoming lost in a deep darkness he did not expect.

            “Guys,” he wasn’t sure he was seeing right, and reached out to touch the wall.  His hand kept going.  “There’s a �" a doorway down here.”  Markus stooped to look, since the doorway was about two-thirds his height.  He noted the arched top, and what remained of old hinges.  The door had been gone for a while.  “It leads to �" another room!”

            His friends were quiet above him.  Becky’s head appeared and blocked the dim light.  “Don’t go in,” She told him…

 

II.

“I’m at the bottom!”   After yelling up to his friends, Markus stood and let his sight become accustomed to the darkness at the bottom of the old wishing well. 

“You’re a moron for taking this dare!” he heard Becky call down as the rope pulled back up.

“Don’t chicken out,” warned Barnes from above, “The dare is ten minutes!”

He steadied himself, moving his feet to balance, and nearly fell over.  His hands pressed against the cool stone of the well’s wall.  When he lifted his hand, he felt a cool penny stick to his palm just before it fell.

 

            Markus took out his keychain flashlight and shone it downward to find the penny that dropped.  What he found was a copper and silver floor shifting beneath him, clinking with each move he made.  The penny that dropped was lost in the glimmer. 

            “We could be rich!” He called up.  “And I’ll bet the pennies at the very bottom are all Indian-head, and probably some old buffalo nickels here too!”

            “Should we throw down a bag?” Barnes called down.

            “Don’t mess with people’s wishes,” Markus heard Becky scold.

            His light passed across the base of the wishing well’s stone wall, and he caught a gleam from something other than a coin.  The amber glow of an old bottle half-buried under the wishes winked at him.  Markus knelt and dug it up.

            “I found an old bottle down here!” he called up.

            “If it’s beer, don’t drink it!”  Barnes’ obnoxious laugh echoed down the well.

            Markus couldn’t see completely through the bottle, but he could tell there was something in there.  Turning it around and flashing his light on it, he could see that it was a paper.  He almost called it up, but decided not to.  The cork in it was stuck really well, but with his Swiss army knife he was able to dig it out. 

            “Eight minutes to go!” Barnes said into the well.

            Markus ignored him.  He turned the bottle and wiggled his finger inside to get a purchase on the paper.  He didn’t want to break the bottle and make his friends wonder what was going on.  Depending on what the paper was, he may not want them to know about it.  It could be his secret. ‘What if it’s a treasure map,’ he thought to himself.

            “Markus, you good?” Becky was always the worrier.

            “I’m still here,” he called up.  He was able to eke the small paper into the bottle’s neck.  Carefully he pulled it through.  It was brittle, but made of something that wasn’t flaking with age.  He held his flashlight in his mouth and uncurled the page…

 

III.

            “I’m at the bottom!”   After yelling up to his friends, Markus stood and let his sight become accustomed to the darkness at the bottom of the old wishing well. 

“You’re a moron for taking this dare!” he heard Becky call down as the rope pulled back up.

“Don’t chicken out,” warned Barnes from above, “The dare is ten minutes!”

He steadied himself, moving his feet to balance, and nearly fell over.  His hands pressed against the cool stone of the well’s wall.  When he lifted his hand, he felt a cool penny stick to his palm just before it fell.

 

            “I’m not going to chicken out!” Markus said.  He tried shifting his stance, but slid on the smooth, small coins beneath him and toppled backwards with an “umph!”

            “You alright?” Becky asked.  He could hear her worried tone.

            “Sure thing, Sweety,” he assured her.  “We’re going on a date with the money Barnes will owe me after ten minutes.  I landed on something soft…”

            “I didn’t bet you, I only dared you!” Barnes complained.

            “I’m taking money from you anyhow,” Markus groped, and finally turned on his keychain flashlight.  The smooth, cushy surface of a giant mushroom glowed faintly back at him.  “I landed on a huge mushroom!”  He sneezed.  “I must have knocked loose some spores �" that �"“ Markus held his nose when the headache suddenly attacked.  By the time he hit the ground, he had blacked-out.

            Marcus woke up and was lying in a huge, soft bed with down blankets and pillows.  The four-poster bed framed his comfort, and he looked past the bed’s curtains to see a huge, ornate room housing an equally huge television and matching furniture.  Three arched windows spanned from the floor to the ceiling on one side of the room, and he could glimpse mountains and the dormered roof of a pool house outside.

            “What the �"“ Markus’ attention was drawn to the double-door of the room when it opened.  There was Becky, holding a tray with a club sandwich and coffee on it, smiling as she approached the bed.

            “You feeling any better?” she asked, setting the tray down on the bed stand and crawling to sit by him in the clouds of fluffed fabric.  Her hand reached for his head and gingerly fingered his hair out of his eyes.

            “I’m �" better?  What happened?”

            “No one knows,” she said.  “I brought you something that might help you get some strength back.”  She turned and swiveled the tray of food to unfold and sit on the bed next to him.

            “No one knows?”  His mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and cucumber on toasted sourdough.  “Where �" where was I the last time… when you talked to me last?”

            “The Wishing Well.  You were taking her out to sea with Barnes and he said you just collapsed on deck.”

            “The wishing well…” He had been on a boat called The Wishing Well?  “I’m at home now?”  He looked outside again.

            “Yes, of course the doctors wouldn’t make you stay at the hospital.  The world’s favorite billionaire can afford nurses at home.”  She smiled.  Markus smiled back, and then took her hand.  It had a beautiful diamond ring and matching wedding ring on it.  He twisted the ring on her finger and read the inscription: “Wishes Granted.”

            “Granted,” he mumbled with a smile.  “Okay.”  He looked up at Becky’s beautiful face.  “I do feel better,” he said to her.  “In fact, I want to go do something today.  What do you want to do?” 

            Becky laughed as he climbed out of bed with sudden vigor.  “I �" I don’t know.”

            He instinctively opened the wardrobe and opened the third drawer down for some jeans.  He knew which button to press to make the wardrobe lazy-Susan turn.  He stopped it and picked out a shirt.  He and Becky decided on the carnival that had nestled in the field down the hill.

            Out the door, he told his butler Nigel that he wouldn’t need a car, they were going to saddle horses and ride to the other side of the property and exit through the back gate to get to the field where the fun was waiting.  Twenty minutes later, he and Becky were riding off toward the distant carnival, behind which a warm sun was becoming pink and tired.  The breeze brought the smell of popcorn, and a mushroom at the bottom of a hole may as well have never existed. 

           

           

Author's Note

These are three "beginnings," each one starting the same but continuing in different ways, and none of them are necessarily finished. I wrote these to prove what possibilities there are for the choice of "A Wishing Well."