The Assignment
Vibing to Angels Like You as the song ended, he switched to Revival by Selena Gomez. The
beats were almost about to completely draw him in when the unpleasant notification ring buzzed through his ears, ruining his reverie. As irked as he was, he quickly swiped down to check it out, wondering who could text him at 10 in the night.
He was hoping it wouldn't be from work. It was. He was hoping they wouldn't give him a new assignment. They did. He was hoping he could make it home in time for dinner. Well, he definitely couldn't. The place he had been assigned was more than 5 miles away and according to them, he was the only agent in the area. Holy shizballs! The link to the verification form was attached with the address and he had less than 30 minutes to report, and thus he set out on his 5th journey for the day.
1 ankle sprain, 17 curses, 23 yawns and 28 minutes later, he stood at the destination. He looked up and there it was - what he needed.
Sighing, he took out his phone to text the wife.
"Running late. Don't wait for me. :)"
She replied almost instantly, "Again? I thought you said you'd finish early."
"The policy, you know."
"I hate your company's policy. :("
"I hate it too. :)"
She left his last text on read and he could tell she was upset, it had been the 13th day in a row he had been assigned a late night assignment. And those clients, holy! How materialistic they all were! The verification link popped up again as the 30 minute timer was about to go off and he quickly verified the destination, acquiring the required object with a snap of his fingers. He examined it thoroughly and rolled his eyes in annoyance, talk of being materialistic again. As he
proceeded to make it to the end of the verification form, he faltered at the last step. It presented him with two options - Correction or Fulfillment. For a few seconds, his fluttering heart contemplated upon selecting the second option and just be done with it, even though given the nature of the object in context, it would be highly against the rules. But, but… maybe they wouldn't notice afterall? It's not like he always did this… NO! Get a grip! No matter the situation,
corruption wasn't one of his virtues. He inhaled a huge chunk of air before selecting Correction, and pressing submit. It was going to be a very, very long night…
The Correction
She banged the door shut and almost screamed in frustration. Almost, yes. She had learned a long time ago to be content with what she had, but now she hoped that she would have learned to be content with nothing as well. Because that was exactly what she currently had - nothing.
She perfectly understood that her family wasn't exactly going through the brightest of times but they could have done atleast something for her birthday?
Desperation overwhelmed her as she got hold of a pen and scribbled something down on a
piece of paper. As she was finished writing, she stomped over to the window and hung it to the ancient wind chime, a teardrop trickling down her eye. Maybe she was overreacting, but who could blame her? She had looked forward to her birthday for weeks, if not months, expecting her parents to get her the space model she had desired for so long, but nevermind. After what seemed like hours of reenacting Lilo & Stitch, she went to bed. The ceiling must have been way
too tempting because she drifted off to the deepest sleep ever in the matter of a few seconds, just wishing for her life to do a flip when she woke up.
Little did she know who was outside her window that night.
As the dawn seemingly set in, she woke up with an eyesore. There was too much light... she shut her eyes tighter and tried to go back to sleep. Wait. The bed wasn't this soft last night.
Lazily, she opened her eyes and looked at where she was laying, audibly gasping when her eyes took in her personal space. What was this? It felt like her bed had tripled in area overnight, and her room, let's just say she was too shocked to get started. Her mouth hung open as her eyes, as wide as saucers, drunk in her surroundings. As her head tilted upwards to look at the ceiling, she let out an alarmed scream. Where was the ceiling and heck, WHERE WAS THE SKY? All she could see were the planets, in all assorted colors. What was she doing in space…
"Madam, are you alright?" A man burst into her room, dressed in a lavish suit and holding a huge tray in his hand.
"The sky… the ceiling…" She gasped.
"Oh yes, your father requested the changes. He told me that you demanded a space themed gift for your birthday, so we decided to customize your room. I hope that you appreciate it. Happy Birthday."
She was way too confused. What was up with her room and more importantly, who was this
man?!
"Who are you?" She asked breathlessly.
"Are you still sleepy, Madam? I'm your butler. I've been serving you for over half a decade now."
Pardon?
"I never had…"
"Happy birthday sweetheart." Her parents walked in, chanting in unison.
She was speechless. Her mother was dressed in what looked like a crazy expensive black
cocktail dress and her father was wearing a dark blue Armani suit.Who the hell wears this at home? Hold on, she looked down to inspect her own clothing and for the hundredth time that morning, she gasped. She was dressed in the plushiest blue onesie she had ever seen, and her confusion multiplied manifolds.
"Darling," her mom said unpleasantly, "It's mannerless to not respond to a wish."
"I'm sorry, thanks mom. Thanks dad. I appreciate the gift…"
"What gift?" Her father interrupted.
"The ceiling…" She began, but was interrupted yet again.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me if you think that's the only gift. My black card is with your butler and he'll take you shopping…"
"Won't you come along?" She asked.
"Oh no honey, you know I've work to do and I'm busy. Have a nice day, though." With that, he walked out leaving his daughter completely puzzled. This was the first time he refused to hang out with her.
"What about you, mom, are you coming?" She asked her mother hopefully.
"What? Absolutely not. I have a brunch scheduled with the girls and I have to get ready. You enjoy, anyway." She smiled, brushing her hair with her manicured nails and walking out of the room in all her elegance.
"Do you really need an entire morning to prepare for a brunch?" She whispered after her mother, seeming lost.
The butler observed her reaction carefully, hoping she had already learned her lesson when her face lit up all of a sudden and she flashed him the toothiest grin ever.
"I'll be ready in a few minutes and we can go shopping. Can't wait to hit the city!" She clapped her hands, walking away to inspect the huge walk-in closet.
The butler sighed. Okay, she'd know better by the end of the day. He placed the tray full of
snacks on her nightstand and waited outside. After 45 long minutes, she finally walked out,
looking like an absolute fashion disaster with the super baggy outfit and super designer hat and super high heels. Uh, whatever, he thought.
"So, where are we going, Mr.," She eyed him quizzically.
"Mr. Butler. You can call me Mr. Butler." He replied professionally, "We can go to any of the designer stores - Gucci, Van Huesen or Versace to fit you out, and then…"
"Wait, ain't we going to shop from the thrift store?"
He stared at her blankly. "Madam, you're rich. Why would we shop from the thrift store?"
He saw a shadow of doubt in her eyes before her excited spark returned. "I was just, nevermind. Let's go!"
As they traversed the hallway, she felt like her eyes would pop out of her sockets. Antique paintings, baroque chandeliers and Queen Anne style chairs adorned the hall and her mouth hung open as her head did a 360⁰ round and round. The butler, on the other hand, was unimpressed. He was just thinking about how he couldn't make it home in time for dinner…
"I can't believe I live in a mansion now." She said dreamily.
"You've always lived here."
They took the lift to the parking lot and he escorted her to a black sports car, holding the door open for her.
"But don't you think we should ask my dad before taking his car?" She asked cautiously.
"This is your car, madam, not his." He explained.
"Ofcourse, how silly of me!" She shook her head.
Maybe, her past life was just a terribly long dream. Her thoughts were brought to an abrupt end as she heard banging on the car window, her mind withdrawn into a state of panic as reporters piled over the car, calling out to her and asking her things she didn't understand. The attention caused a surge of anxiety to sweep over her and she glanced at the butler who looked effortlessly unaffected and even a little bored, as if he was used to it.
"What is this? Are they here to arrest us?" She whispered.
"They are trying to get a picture of you. Don't look at them, we'll get through."
The rest of the day went by in a short circle of her desperately trying to get something and the paparazzi questioning every damn choice she had to make.
First, the riches and second, the attention was crazy. Now, they were finally wedged back in
their car and she was trying to even her breathing in the few moments of peace she finally had.
"So, do you still want it?" The butler asked, out of nowhere.
"Want what?" She asked in a small voice.
"The riches, the fame?"
"I seriously don't know." She responded, "Probably yes."
His mind went blank. After an entire day, when he had the slightest feeling that he had
succeeded in his correction, when he had begun to think she had been revived - she still
desired all of it?
"Are you serious kid?!" He said, annoyed, "How materialistic can you be? Your family ignoring you, all this uninvited attention, basically all your social freedom taken away and you still want it?"
She closed her eyes and smiled.
"Mr. Butler, have you ever read a fairytale?" She asked softly.
Read a fairytale? Been a fairytale!
"I have, why?" He replied calmly, feeling guilty about his earlier outburst.
"So you do know it, the happily ever afters they have in there. It holds true for life too."
"Life isn't fiction." He countered.
"Absolutely, but fiction is definitely life, just a little different. Do you know the unwritten rule of life? It's 'Mappily Ever After'."
"Never heard of that. Is that even a word?" He giggled.
"Money added with happily, Mr. Butler. Because this is the rule. Money is needed to live happily; love, family, friends - everything is just needed to live ever after."
"That's one way to to look at it." He replied.
"That's the only way to look at it. I know, I didn't ask for the attention. In fact, I hated it. But the delight I had shopping today, I've never been this happy before." She said dreamily.
"Sit with your family and play a nice game of monopoly, you'd be happier." He said.
"Let me alter it a little - treat your family to their favorite restaurant and take them shopping. Observe their joy. You'd be the happiest."
"You sure do know a lot for your age." He shook his head.
"Trust me, these are the basics. Whoever says money can't solve your problems must not have had enough money to solve them." She said, making air quotations. "I believe we're outdated on our understanding of happiness, tell me, would your wife have married you if you were totally broke?"
He thought about it for a moment, choosing not to reply. "Well, that was quite some facts. I guess I'll ask my wife that tonight." He chuckled. "Shall we end this now?"
"End what?"
She had no time to reply, as she awoke with a start. In the same old bed, in the same old baggy shirt, in the same old room where the window didn't have curtains. A wave of mixed emotions swept over her as she hurried out of bed and snatched the paper from the wind chime, unfolding it.
It read, "Dear wish-granting angel, for this birthday, I just want to be rich and famous."
She took it back to her desk and made some slight changes, hanging it back up again. A smile crept up her face for reasons unknown, the dream still warm and fresh. And oh, the butler - how weird was it to be seeing a man she had never met before?
The Revival
Mr. Butler aka The Junior Wish Inspector at the Wish Granting Organization for Mortals stood down there, trying to wrap his finger around everything that happened. He had been trying to bring about a correction in her way of looking at the world through a silver spoon but strangely enough, he felt like he was the one who had been corrected. He knew not if he brought about her revival or if she brought about his, a brutal yet much needed revival of his ideology.
Sure he was an angel, but if angels could switch to managing work through phones and laptops then why could they not, for once, indulge in their material desires without being greedy about it? Why could they not be, almost angels? His phone buzzed with a notification on the company group, assigning respective addresses to all the members. Whenever a wish was made, the
local agent was assigned to go through it and decide whether it had to be corrected or fulfilled.
The rules were simple - wishes asking for betterment in health and the likes of it could be
fulfilled, the rest had to be corrected. Most of them, being honest. He had noticed that she made
some changes to her wish, he snapped his fingers and there it was, in his hands again. This
time it read,
"Dear wish-granting angel, for this birthday, I just want to be rich a̶n̶d̶̶f̶a̶m̶o̶u̶s̶.̶"
He smiled, proceeding to complete the form. Correction done. Taking a deep breath, he sent a
personal text to his boss.
'Good morning, sir. I was hoping we could talk about my impending promotion…"
React
