The genie and the lamp

Tom had received his "inheritance" in a medium sized box more than a week earlier. He had taken a cursory look at the contents then and while he had not completely dismissed it as junk, it wasn't interesting enough to look through right then. He was now feeling a bit guilty because he had felt genuine affection toward his grandfather and it seemed somewhat churlish to ignore the possessions that the Old Man had willed to him.

Sighing, Tom pulled out the item that seemed most odd. It looked like something out of a childhood +Fantasy , an Arabian lamp, Tom thought. A small cardboard tag attached by a string was in the Old Man's handwriting.

"Don't clean the lamp. You'll wake up the genie."

Tom chuckled. The old guy had a sense of humor.

He turned the lamp (if that's what it truly was) in his hands. It certainly could use a cleaning, he thought. Idly, he rubbed his thumb along one edge.

Where he had rubbed took on a glow, it seemed. A rich brown patina had emerged from the dust and grime. Really pretty, Tom thought and, using a corner of his shirt, he began to polish the rest of the lamp.

Suddenly there was a flash of light and something smokey and sinuous poured out of the lamp. Startled, Tom dropped the lamp, but the discharge continued and quickly formed into the shape of a ..

A genie? Not exactly. A man of middle age, wearing chinos, a yellow shirt, a Members Only jacket and slightly scuffed sneakers. Tom's grandfather had worn similar outfits right up to his death, so Tom recognized the era of the styles, but this man was definitely not his grandfather. Too tall, for one thing.

Tom blinked. The genie, or whatever it was, looked at Tom and spoke.

"You have one wish."

Tom almost laughed. He wasn't quite sure how the Old Man had pulled this off, but it was a hell of a trick. It must be some sort of laser projection, Tom thought.

"No", said the genie, "nothing like that. I'm the real deal. A genie in a lamp and you get one wish." The genie paused. "If you want it", he added.

Tom blinked again. This was no laser projection. This was.. this was.. holy mackerel this was a frigging genie in a lamp!

Tom's mouth hung open.

"Yeah, I know what you mean", said the genie. "Wealth, power, fame, hard to choose. But it's even harder than you know."

Tom gulped audibly. "Harder than I know?"

The genie shrugged. "Actions have consequences. I rearrange things so that there is a pile of gold in that inheritance and things have to change. The past has to change, the future has to change. This stuff isn't magic, you know!"

Tom seemed to be having trouble processing that. "Isn't, umm, magic..?". His voice trailed off.

"No, it isn't magic", the genie answered with some impatience in his voice. "We Genie can manipulate the past so as to change the present. You want a pile of gold in that box, I have to go back in time and change things so that somebody's gold ends up in your grandfather's hands and makes it way to you. Things change, history changes. There are ripples. I can see the big ones and if they are really bad, I look for another way, but I can't keep track of every little detail and I can't see beyond the present at all. So, for example, if I get that gold here, maybe you get hit by a bus on your way to sell it. I can't foresee that stuff."

The genie paused as Tom sat still slack jawed. "On the other hand, maybe you get hit by a bus anyway. I don't know the future."

Tom took a deep breath. "So I can get a pile of gold or whatever, but basically you steal it from someone else and that changes history?"

The genie nodded.

"What if I just wish for happiness?", Tom asked.

The genie sighed. "Can't do it. I can shower you with gold, get you elected to be President or anything like that, but happy is too vague. Nothing I can grab on to, I need specifics."

"And whatever it is, it changes history?", Tom asked.

"Yes. Not necessarily very much. Twisting that gold into your hands doesn't have to change things that much. I don't even need to steal it, necessarily. There's buried treasure here and there; I just need to have your grandfather find it. But, yeah, things change. They have to."

"Could be dangerous", Tom mused.

The genie nodded his head in agreement. "That's what your grandfather said".

"My grandfather??" Of course, Tom thought. Of course the Old Man had polished the lamp!

"What did my grandfather wish for?"

The genie smiled. "Your grandfather was a wise man. He made the only wish that makes sense."

Standing up, Tom moved toward the genie. "And what was that?"

The genie smiled again. "I think you know, Tom."

"Yes", said Tom, "I think I do. My wish is that you go back to your lamp!"

And with another flash of light, the genie turned to smoke and flowed back into the lamp. Tom placed it back in the box and rummaged through the other things the Old Man had bequeathed him. The Old Man was a smart guy, he thought as he unwrapped an old cigarette lighter.

"A very wise man", he said aloud.