Stolen Wishes

"It's just not fair!" I cried.  Ever since we were kids my sister got the larger piece of the wishbone at Thanksgiving, and all of her wishes came true. 

When she was eight her wish was to go to Disney World; she got it.  We were supposed to go over Christmas break from school, but the week before we left I slipped on the driveway and broke my leg.  I had to stay home with Grandma and they took my cousin instead.

When she was nine, she wished for a puppy; she got it.  I was allergic so my parents built a playhouse for her and the puppy in the basement.  I couldn't even play in the playhouse.  Shouldn't that count as two wishes?

The next year she wished that she would be beautiful; she got that too.  Mom took her to a modeling agency and she was chosen for commercials, store ads, and beauty contests.  She got to wear fancy clothes, wear make up, and have her hair done and I got to tag along and carry her suitcases.  She even got to bring her dog along.

She got the larger piece of the wishbone the next year, too.  This time she wished for her own room; she got it.  Mom and Dad put an addition on the house and she got her own room with a pretty white canopy bed and matching dressers and bookshelf.  They even got her the white comforter with purple violets on it that matched the green one I always said I wanted.  I got stuck with the old beat up bed that had been my Dad's when he was a kid, a couple of ratty old garage sale dressers, and a sheet over my window.

When she was twelve, she wished for riding lessons; she got them.  I had to sit on a bench by the fence and wait because I was also allergic to horses.  Because she could ride, she got more modeling jobs and filled her pretty room with ribbons and trophies that she won.

At thirteen, she said she couldn't think of anything to wish for so she told me I could use her wish.  Mom and Dad thought that was so generous of her that they showered her with gifts.  I wished for a pretty journal and matching pen; I didn't want to tempt fate and wish for anything big.  I guess that wishes that are intended for someone else don't come true because I never got the pretty journal and matching pen; all I got was another spiral notebook and a yellow number 2 pencil.

Since giving wishes away didn't work, the next year my sister wished for her own computer; you know the routine:  she got it.  She got a laptop computer, purple, with a purple case to put it in so that it all matched her pretty room.

When she was fifteen, she wished for purple luggage, to match her purple computer case and carry her clothes to all of the contests and modeling jobs she had lined up; she got it.

At sixteen, she wished for a car.  She didn't get that.  Instead she got a truck!  When I was sixteen, my parents told me that if I wanted a car I'd have to get a job and work for it.  I was finally able to afford an old jalopy that guzzled gas and drank a quart of oil every week.  I couldn't afford to drive it back and forth to my job mopping the floor at Burger King so I usually rode the bike a neighbor had given me.

The next year she wished for a gorgeous prom dress, as if she didn't already have enough beautiful clothes.  Not only did she get the dress, she got matching shoes, gloves, and a tiara, after which she was named Prom Queen and elected president of the student council and invited to join the National Honor Society.  Not fair!

During her senior year of high school she wished for a scholarship, which came in the form of an all-expenses-paid package to the college of her choice through the modeling agency.  She was offered several other scholarships but had to turn them down since she didn't need them.

So, she packed her purple luggage with all of her pretty clothes and put it all into her cute little pick up truck and took off for college while I rode my bike to work and mopped floors to scrounge enough money to pay for a couple of accounting classes at the community college.

Somehow, I had to get a wish.  I plotted and schemed and hoped and dreamed.  Somehow, I just had to get a wish of my own.  Every week for a year I saved enough money to go to the deli and purchase a rotisserie chicken.  I'd bring it home and dig out the wishbone.  My left hand would represent my sister and my right hand would be for me; she won every time.  One day I accidentally nicked the wishbone as I cut away the meat.  When I broke it, it broke right there.

Finally, I might be able to get a wish of my own I thought deviously.  One weekend my parents went up to see my sister so I scraped together every coin I could dig out of the couch cushions and borrowed a few dollars from the vacation jar until I had enough to buy a small turkey.  I baked it and cut it up like a Thanksgiving turkey, taking care to nick the wishbone with the electric knife.  I held the nicked side in my left hand as I broke it.  It worked!  It broke where I had nicked it.  Now, if I could just do that at Thanksgiving.  All I had to do was get my sister to hold the nicked side.

I did it.  I went to the trouble of cutting the turkey and nicking the wishbone, but somehow, it got turned around and my sister got her wish again.  I couldn't believe it.

As the years went by, I finished my courses, got a job at a local accounting firm, and moved into a small apartment near town.  My sister graduated as class valedictorian with top honors and went on to become a pediatrician.  She married a gorgeous man, had beautiful babies, a huge house with a swimming pool and riding stables, several fancy cars, and an incredible career.  I don't think it ever rained in her world; only in mine.

It's my turn to get a wish I thought enviously as I drove alone to my parents home for Thanksgiving.  My sister would be there and we would share the wishbone, as always.  This time, my trick just had to work.

I pushed the last bite of food around my plate and watched Mom start to collect the dishes.  I stood up and took the turkey to the kitchen, putting a notch in the wishbone while no one was looking.  As the last of the leftovers were going into the fridge I picked out the wishbone and offered the nicked side to my sister.  "Once more for old times' sake?" I asked, pretending it didn't matter.

She smiled and pulled, confident that she'd get the larger piece, as always.  She looked down at the piece of bone in her hand, horrified to have gotten the short end this time.  As I looked into her eyes she bit her lip.  "Finally!" I exclaimed.  "I finally get my wish, and boy do I have a good one."

I closed my eyes and wished with all my might:  I wish that everything my sister has ever wished for would be mine too!

The room began to spin and a rainbow of colors swirled around me blending into an ugly shade of green.  I steadied myself against the counter and when I opened my eyes, I saw my reflection in the window above the sink:  long red curls, vivid blue eyes with long lashes.  Someone unfamiliar was behind me.  I turned and saw the most handsome man I'd ever laid eyes on. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.  "You looked like you were about to fall over."

I looked around the room, confused.  Everything looked just as it had a moment before:  my sister was holding the short end of the wishbone and Mom was putting away the last of the leftovers.  I looked at my sister, confused.  "Let's go outside for a breath of fresh air," she suggested, linking her arm in mine.

"What happened," I asked dropping into the porch swing.

"From the looks of things, your wishes...or, well, my wishes have come true."

"What do you mean?"

My sister looked down and then looked back at me with tears in her eyes.  "Every time I wished for something for myself, I wished for the same thing for you, too, but it never seemed to work.  This year I was going to wish that all of those wishes I had made for you would come true.  I guess you wished for the same thing," she smiled.

"You mean, you wanted all of this for me?"

"Of course I did.  I never wanted to do all of those things by myself.  I wanted you to be able to share everything I had."

"Let's go see if it really worked," I suggested with renewed energy.

We walked into the house and found our rooms.  Her room was just the same:  white canopy bed decorated with the violet print comforter.  My room, though, had changed dramatically.  The bare walls were pale green, decorated with ribbons, trophies, and certificates.  The closet was full of beautiful prom gowns, each tagged with a photo and the year.  I had a canopy bed just like my sister's and all of the linens were pale mint green with purple violets.  Open on the bed was a green suitcase filled with lovely clothes and a pretty journal and matching pen.  On the dresser, a photo of the man I'd seen in the kitchen.  "Tony," I said lovingly, surprised at the sound of my own voice.  Wonderful memories were filling my head, taking the place of past envies.  Soon, all of those feelings of being left out and forgotten were long gone except for one.

"I rigged the wishbone," I confessed.

"I know," my sister replied.  "That's why I wished, too."

"What did you wish for?"

"I wished that all of the wishes I had ever made for you would come true, just like I told you before," she answered, putting her arm around my waist.

"I have another confession," I began, ashamed.  My sister looked at me and waited.  "I was going to wish that I never had a sister, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I wished that everything you had ever wished for would also be mine."

"Oh," she said, a hurt look clouding her eyes.

"I couldn't wish I never had a sister," I explained, "because I love you."  Her face brightened again.  "It was just so hard standing by and watching all of your wishes come true while I got nothing."

As my sister and I talked, the last memories of our old past vanished, replaced by the good memories our wishes had brought.

"I'm so glad I have a sister," I said truthfully.  "Let's go have some pumpkin pie."

"That would be great," my sister replied, "but I'm allergic to pumpkin."

We laughed and walked arm in arm to the kitchen.

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