the dream catcher

He gets one wish per night. Collectively, the wishes resemble a box of Christmas tree ornaments passed through four families.

Let me wake up without back pain. Bring peace to the world. Find my daughter a home. Vikings win the game. Less pain in my back.

Tonight the wish is simple. Make Emily say yes.

He speaks out loud for the first time during these nightly devotionals, which began early this summer. “I’m going to invite Emily over.” This strikes him as far more achievable than summoning world peace. He smiles, and shuffles to bed.

–

Emily is the girl at the corner store. What with the circles under her eyes and the gray hairs clinging to her blue apron, she is more woman than girl. He guesses she is fifty-four. Otherwise she would be retired, though maybe she likes her job.

It seems so. She is the kind of girl (a fair assessment for a man of eighty-three years) whose work schedule you memorize. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays ten to six. Wednesdays noon to nine. Saturdays and Sundays variable. Mondays off. She smiles through every shift. Perhaps she frowns on Monday. I am going to find out.

His heartbeats crash like bongos. The loaf of bread in his hand is getting mangled. He places it on the counter. “Can I make you some iced tea tonight? She says yes. Today is a Sunday. She will lock the doors at eight. He agrees to meet her then.

–

-How long have you had the house?
-Fifty years. I bought it from my aunt.
-Oh.
-Do you ever wish for anything?
-Well, I … I guess I do sometimes. This is great iced tea, by the way.
-Would you like some more?
-Thank you.
-Come with me and we’ll drink on the porch.
-Oh, this is lovely.
-Yes. The right mix of eaves and moon.
- … and?
-And well-meaning neighbors.
-Who are they?
-Well, I don’t know, but I think they’re New Age.
-I like to do breathing.
-Then I will tell you. They built me this dream catcher and left it outside here.
-Where is it?
-Right there. I can’t believe you missed it. I guess it’s earlier than usual. Want to know the strangest part?
-What?
-They build it on the porch while I’m gone.
-What do you mean?
-Look, it’s too intricate to move. But it keeps getting bigger all the same. Since I started wishing it’s almost doubled in size.
-What do you wish for?
-World peace, and you coming over.

–

Emily accepts his kiss. She will never tell him his beloved dream catcher is a spider web.