Page 42 of The Good Boy

“A, I am not magic. And B, how is this suddenly about me?” I ask.

Rory looks at me. Fair enough.

“So according to my cousin,ifthe conditions are right you might be able to... cancel out the wish,” Nanna says. “But the conditions have to be right. You have to commit. And there is no replacement wish. It would just be as if the original wish never happened.”

“Fine,” I say at once. “Let’s do it.”

“Well, obviously it’s not as easy as that,” Nanna Maria says. “Like I said, conditions have to be right.”

“Obviously!” I will admit I am now slightly fraught.

“Mariella said that she had heard of a family legend from long, long ago. When a distant relative wished to marry the richest man in the village.”

“Right,” I say. “And how did that work out for her?”

“Well, she regretted it because she was really in love with a goatherd called Sebastian.”

“Like how long ago was this, and did it actually happen?” I ask her.

“Hundreds of years, and it’s in the family lore so I’d say there is a fifty-fifty chance of it being true,” Nanna says. “Maybe sixty-forty.”

“We’re doomed,” I tell Rory. “Go on.”

“Well, the girl knew she had made an awful mistake. But it was too late. She was married. She thought the trappings of wealth and power would replace what she really longed for, which was to live with purpose, kindness, and love. But money never did buy happiness.”

“I do kind of beg to differ on that one,” I say. “I mean, for starters I’d be willing to give it a good go.”

“So she began to live as if she had nothing. To give away her clothes and jewels and to see the beauty and rarity in every normal, mundane thing. She saw that her existence was the most precious thing she had, and that to squander even one second of it was a terrible waste. The power of her realization was so great that she canceled out her misguided wish with the power of her fulfillment in discovering her life’s true purpose and her inner priestess.” Nanna Maria smiles at me. “So, you know, you could try that?”

“This sounds suspiciously like a hackneyed attempt to get me to go on dating apps while I get used to having a human Rory,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes.

“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” Nanna Maria says. “I knew you’d think something cynical like that. But the point is that becoming the person you are meant to be isn’t about meeting boys or falling in love. It’s about appreciating your own existence as a unique miracle that will never be repeated again in the entire history of the universe. And the family magic.”

“We’re doomed,” I tell Rory.

“We’re doomed,” Rory agrees.

“Oh well,” I say. “Better crack on with Operation Pinocchio.”

“That’s not a good name,” Rory says. “Pinocchio wanted to be a human boy and he lied! I wanted to be adogdog and I never lie.”

“You think of a name, then,” I say.

“Genie.” Nanna makes me sit at the table with an expression that is gentle and loving but also quite scary.

“Why are you so willing to dismiss the possibility that there might be a better way of living your life?” she asks. “A way that can help Rory get back to his natural form and help you see how beautiful life can be. It’s very small, I know. But it’s a possibility. And where there is the smallest possibility there is hope. Hope for Rory and for you. Would it be so wrong to try and find your way back to the girl you used to be, and to be the woman youshouldbe? The one who was so full of ideas, imagination, and color? The girl who always had hope?”

When I look into her eyes I see the grief there. It’s hard when you realize someone is grieving for the person that you used to be. Nanna Maria must have missed me for a long time.

“I’m so sorry, Nanna,” I tell her, “but that girl is long gone. I can’t bring her back. I don’t want to. It would be wrong even to try.”

“Why do you think that, Genie?” Nanna grabs my hand. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because how can I go on like nothing happened? How could I do that to... how could I do that?”

Nanna’s gaze drops. One tear falls onto the tabletop.

“You, you are different to me,” I tell her, bringing her hand to my cheek. “Somehow you, Mum, and Dad have managed to keep your shiny coating of weird endemic joy, and I love that about all of you. But mine is chipped and cracked and rubbed away. Iused to see magic, now I just see the truth. This is my normal.” I gesture at myself. “It’s just who I am, and you know, I like what I have. It’s good enough. It’s more than I deserve.”

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