Wishes

Krystal, 25

I treated myself to some M&M ice cream with caramel sauce for paying my credit card bill and my student loan bill on time. It was also my dinner because I didn’t have much else to eat. Given that the company I worked for had to cut everyone’s pay to settle a legal dispute, I wasn’t sure if I’d have enough to pay all of my bills this month. I really needed to find a new job. I was looking, but it’s hard to break into a new career field, and it’s even harder when you don’t know what field you want to break into.

I picked up my phone and swiped through all of the people on one of the three dating apps that I signed up for. Today, there were an awful lot of people who worked in healthcare and accounting. How many of these people were drowning in debt like me? I landed on a guy who said he was a financial counselor and couldn’t imagine being with anyone who had debt. One woman flat out said that she didn’t talk to anyone who didn’t make as much as she did… almost six figures. I rolled my eyes and put my phone down.

I know stuff like that shouldn’t have bothered me so much, but I hated the fact that I had debt and didn’t have much help or support. I had to do that on my own, and when you’re feeling really down, it’s damned hard to do.

Out of habit, I picked up my phone to doomscroll, but I opted to check out free events in my area instead of going through my timeline. Last year, someone held a scavenger hunt to find the actual cloak of invisibility. I don’t know how real it was, though. Magic in the sense of movies and video games had been confirmed to be real, but I hadn’t encountered it, so for all I knew, it could be one giant hoax. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Still… wouldn’t it be nice to find out that a genie in a magic lamp exists? I scrolled for a while and saw an event that was sandwiched between a knitting event at a library and a teen poetry workshop. It was easy to miss.

“Wish Ceremony - Open to the First 50 People.”

It was posted a week ago, with a scheduled date in two weeks, and five confirmed goers.

“No, Krystal. This is stupid. It’s a scam,” I spoke out loud to no one. “But what if it’s not? Why do I want to check it out? I could really use a miracle.”

Ms. Yvette, 64

My ex-husband and I had a wedding anniversary coming up. I decided to spend it with my therapist. My best friend offered to treat me to a girls’ night out, but I wasn’t feeling it. I explained to her that for nearly every anniversary, we used to plan a day trip together. Every 5 years, we would take a trip out of the country. For our 35th, we were supposed to go to Bali, but the divorce took over before that could happen. For years, we were the epitome of Black love and devotion. Now, that was gone with no explanation from him other than repeating, “I want a divorce” like a broken record.

“What if you went on your own or with your best friend?” She gently suggested.

“I thought about it, but it’s hard. I’ve never traveled on my own or with anyone else except him.”

“Okay, what if you took a smaller trip, maybe one where you don’t have to leave the country. Let Bali be for later.”

The longer I thought about it, the more it grew on me. When I got home, I journaled. Even though therapy and journaling helped a lot, I was still working through another issue: where am I supposed to go now? I was newly retired, newly divorced, and an empty nester with no grandchildren. Later that day, I ran the idea by a friend to see what she would say. She loved the idea, but she wouldn’t be able to go with me for the dates that I planned. I would have to travel solo. I’d be lying if I said that my heart didn’t sink a little.

I sat at my computer staring at the submit button for a hotel room in the metropolitan city of a neighboring state. My gaze relaxed, but the blue button still stood out.

“This is ridiculous. Why am I hesitating to book this room, to go on this trip? It’s not like I don’t have the money or the time. And I deserve it. But I also deserve to sit at home quietly. Still… if I’m at home, I’m only going to get stuck in my emotions and feel bad about myself.” I felt silly talking to myself, so I snapped out of it and clicked the submit button. I rewarded myself with a couple of sips of wine before looking up things to do in the area.

“Wish Ceremony - Open to the First 50 People”

It sounded spiritual, and since I recently learned that reality wasn’t how I thought it was, I decided to check it out. I could really use that wish

Antoinette, 37

As my wife massaged my neck and scalp before retwisting my locs, I felt all of the stress and microaggressions from work fall off my body, onto the floor, where they evaporated into the air, and were consumed by the richness of Nag Champa incense.

“I’m just saying, I think you should bring up the issue with HR or whoever does the hiring. I really don’t like the fact that you’re the only Black person and the only woman at the firm. I really don’t like how your colleague talked to you like…”

“Anj, honey, can we please talk about something besides my job. Anything. Did you meet up with that guy about that thing for your business?”

She sighed, “No, he texted me 15 minutes after we were supposed to meet, saying that something urgent came up and he’d get back to me later about rescheduling our meeting.”

My heart sank. That wasn’t the first time something like that happened to her. I was starting to think that the people who said that they could help her, really couldn’t and didn’t want to tell her face-to-face. As she retwisted my locs, I let my mind drift to what I would do to change our lives if I had ultimate say-so. I’d add more Black people and women to my team for starters. It wouldn’t change the microaggressions, but there’d be more people like me to hear it, file a complaint, or call it out if they were feeling petty. I’d also make sure that my wife had all of the right connections and more than enough money to get her business idea off the ground. No more struggling and trying to avoid scams or people who went back on their word.

Later that evening, when I was getting ready for bed, Anjelica proposed an idea to me.

“How would you feel about another date night?”

“I’m all for it, be more specific. We always do date nights at least twice a month.”

“Well, I know how you feel about woo-woo type shit, but there’s this ‘Wish Ceremony’ thing happening in a couple of weeks. There’s not a lot of information in the description section, but it sounds like it could be something about combining prayer with manifestation.”

“Sounds like a scam,” I say as I cleanse my face.

“But it could also be real. You heard the confirmations of magic. Think of it as an adventure. At the worst, it’ll be a funny fail; at best, we’ll learn something from it.”

“So you pick the place, but I get to pick the restaurant, right?”

There was a pause. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she rolled her eyes. I wanted to go to this Creole seafood place, but the idea of making a mess while eating made her squirm.

“Yeah, you can pick,” she said.

If magic truly were real, I needed that wish.

Brooklyn, 19

I found another pair of panties that wasn’t mine under our bed. Again. Instead of asking him about it like I did last time, I just took a picture, put it among his dirty clothes, and continued doing my own laundry. I really didn’t feel like having the same argument again. I want to go in there and smash his game, then post all of the evidence to social media, but my friends told me not to. They’ve probably never been in my shoes, in a relationship with someone who disrespected you AND made more money than you AND paid all of the rent and bills so that it would be hard for you to break free, so how would they know? Now that I thought about it, they were probably right. I may not have known what I wanted to do with my life, but I did know that I wanted out of this relationship. However, moving back across the country to my family wasn’t financially feasible for them or me.

I needed an outlet, and weed wasn’t hittin’ it for me. I came across a teen poetry workshop. I hadn’t written a poem in my life, but I really liked spoken word, and poetry couldn’t be that hard, right? I heard my boyfriend’s keys in the lock. I remembered the text he sent telling me that he “wanted some” as soon as he walked in the door. That was fine. He’d finally be paying attention to me for a change. I’d make him wear a condom, though. I hastily took down the location in a note on my phone and put it away.

“Heeyyy, baby!” I coo. Maybe this workshop will, in a way, help me find a way to get what I need.

All Together

Mistress Swann didn’t quite know how many people to expect. She posted an event on social media, but out of the five people who confirmed, she later learned that three were bot accounts. If anything, there were more ‘maybes’ than confirms. She sat in the gazebo in the middle of the park, next to a large maple tree, waiting for people to arrive. Ten minutes past the start time, and 20 people had shown up.

“Good morning, everyone. We’re going to wait a couple of extra minutes in case there are stragglers,” she said, trying to sound confident.

Mistress Swann has spent nearly her entire life studying magical artifacts. For the past three years, she had traveled to remote areas of the world to find objects that could help people with their everyday problems and help them feel comfortable with magic. Her master warned against her project and told her that the artifacts were better off hidden away, preferably with the Order, of which he was one of the leaders. Between that and the dark glint in his eye, she realized that she needed to break away from him and forge her own path.

After a few minutes, no one else showed up, so she started the ceremony.

“Welcome to the Wish Ceremony. I’m Mistress Swann, and I will be leading you all today.”

One young woman frowned, then looked at her phone, “Shit.”

“Is there a problem, miss?”

“This isn’t the teen poetry workshop?”

Mistress Swann shook her head, “It’s not. However, if you’re here, it’s probably because you’re supposed to be here. You’re welcome to stay.”

The young woman quickly scrolled through her phone, then put it away. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

Mistress Swann nodded and then went into her introduction of magic and what the ceremony entailed, “This stone has the potential to grant one person one wish. Multiple people can use it, but only one person will receive their wish.”

“Why are you telling us this and not using it for yourself?” A young Black woman with a red-copper afro spoke up.

“Simple, I have what I need already,” Mistress Swann said.

“How do we know that this isn’t some scam or trick?” A woman with locs asked.

Mistress Swann pulled out another stone from her pocket. Without saying a word, she showed it to the group and then made a fist around it. She closed her eyes, disappeared from the front of the group, and reappeared behind them.

“Turn around.”

The group turned around, wearing shocked expressions.

“I am not asking you all for money. I am not asking you all for information. I don’t even want most of the attention on me. I just want to share my knowledge of magic and help give the public some options. Now, given that, there is something important that you all must know: a wish may be granted, but the wisher is not exempt from any negative consequences that may arise. You must be very specific in what you want and very sure that you want it. Anyone whose wish was not granted will go about their lives as normal.”

People started to murmur amongst themselves. Mistress Swann was quiet for a few moments as she let people talk. It was at that time that she also wanted people to decide if they wanted to continue on with the ceremony. After a couple of minutes, she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“If everyone is still on board, let us begin. First, let’s huddle into groups of four to talk amongst ourselves.”

Five Black women began to huddle together when one broke from the group and ran to the bathroom.

“Sooo, why do y’all think she had us get together? Wouldn’t it just be easier to make our wish and go home?” The woman with the afro spoke up.

“I guess, but I don’t mind talking to folks. Even if one of us doesn’t get our wish, we can probably still help each other.” An older Black woman said with short salt and pepper curls.

“I can’t believe I got these locations messed up,” the youngest woman with braids said while scrolling through her phone. “Oh well, I’m here, and I might as well try it. What are everyone’s names?”

“Ms. Yvette,” said the older woman.

“Antoinette. The other woman who ran to the bathroom is my wife, Anjelica. She may or may not be with us later,” said the woman with locs.

“Krystal,” said the woman with the reddish-copper afro.

“I’m Brooklyn.”

“Funny how we’re the only Black woman here,” said Ms. Yvette, looking around.

The women laughed and talked amongst themselves until Mistress Swann came by and gave them the stone.

“By the way,” she added. “There’s no harm in speaking your wish out loud. The universe is listening, too.”

Ms. Yvette went first, “I wish for understanding in what to do with my life now that I’m retired and divorced.”

Krystal received the stone next: “I wish to be debt-free while working the job of my dreams.”

“I wish for the money and courage to break up with my cheating boyfriend so I can get my own place,” Brooklyn said quickly.

“I guess it’s my turn, huh. Well, I’m caught between wishing something for myself and wishing something for my wife. So… I wish that my wife and I would get what we need in our careers.” Antoinette took the stone and turned it over in her hands. It was smooth, cocoa brown, and in the shape of a heart.

As time wound down, and people started to leave, Antoinette, with a now uncomfortable-looking Anjelica, caught up with Krystal, “You mentioned a dream job. Know anything about IT?”

“No, but I’m willing to learn. So long as I’m making more money than I am now. Why? You hiring?”

“I’m a manager of an IT firm, and I think I could get some strings pulled to get you in, but only if you’re interested?”

“Absolutely!”

Brooklyn caught up with Ms. Yvette, “Hey, I know this is bold, but I really resonated with what you had to say. Can we meet up sometime? Maybe as a mentorship type thing?”

“I don’t live in this state, but let’s go get some coffee and talk more.”

Ms. Yvette also caught up with Anjelica to offer her help in her career change.

“Brooklyn,” Krystal called and handed Brooklyn a piece of paper. “If you ever need someone to talk to, let me know. I know a thing or two about leaving a partner.”

Later

Mistress Swann swiped through the news stories until she landed on one that caught her attention: “Man Who Won the Lottery Mixed Up in Gambling Scandal. Skylar High claims that he went to a ‘wish ceremony’ where he wished that he would win the lottery. See more here.”

She shook her head sadly and gathered up her belongings for her next trip.