Chapter 3

I never realized how refreshing it could be to be a woman. As a guy, you have to be all macho, or you get teased and picked on for being weak. There are the downsides, of course. A strong woman is often labeled a bitch.

After having dried my hair, we went through my clothes, both in my closet and in my dresser. Those easily considered to be unisex items had only changed so that they were the correct size to fit my new build. Others just remained as they had been. We gathered those up and readied them to be donated.

That took us less than an hour. My dress shirts, slacks, shoes, shorts, underwear, and socks were all packed up. Well, the underwear and socks were turned into rags, to be honest. No-one accepts used socks and undies for clothing donations.

Once all that was boxed up, we put it in mom’s car and headed into town. We had two stops to make today. Our first was The Salvation Army, where we unloaded the clothes. Then it was off to the mall.

I had no dresses, skirts, or other feminine clothing. I was wearing a soccer jersey, in the US Women’s Soccer Team’s colors, combined with a pair of Wranglers and cross-trainers, my white panties and no bra. Mom’s wouldn’t fit me.

Before we left, my mother had me call forth the Djinn. The Djinn can be terrifying. Thankfully, they are also capable of compassion, empathy, and love. They are sentient beings, after all.

My mother had advised me as we talked while drying my hair and sorting the clothes to be donated. I did not have a set limit on the wishes I could make. What I did have were restrictions that the women of the family have learned and documented over hundreds of years. I could not ask for control over others. Those who had in the past lost loved ones when the wisher had told them, in a fit of short-lived rage, something along the lines of “just die.” As Ian Flemming said, “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.” After the third time, it happened all who came into possession of the lamp were warned not to go there. One could not wish to become immortal. Our family has a tale of one who did ask. That unfortunate soul is bound to her decaying body in a crypt: she cannot escape the prison of her body and only the wish of another may set her free.

Every wish comes with a price. Sometimes, the price is nothing more than being polite and asking in an appropriate manner. Other wishes may require a trade of some kind. The Djinn always tells us what the trade is, but it may not be clear at the time and only when the “bill comes due” do we find out what we have agreed to give up.

I mentioned the wishes to control others. There is a prime example of the trade and how destructive it can be.

I spoke with the Djinn, respectfully. I did not need to be told to do so. You knew you were dealing with a being of immense power when you encountered a Djinn. The terror I felt was real but faded as I spoke. Mother provided me with a useful framework from which to start. My questions were to learn more about the restrictions and costs.

“Djinn, what would be the cost were I to wish for a complete understanding of the limits of my wishes?”

“A good question young lady. If you were to ask in a manner that pleased me you would have paid the price. Do you wish to do so?”

“No, not at this time, thank you. I require more information before I make even a minor wish.

“How would such a wish be fulfilled, my Djinn?”

“Another good question. You’re adjusting to the change well and thinking instead of acting impulsively. I appreciate this.

“Were you to make such a wish, worded in a way that pleased me, it would be granted as intended. I would make you aware of all pitfalls of any wish you might consider making. But, you must word it in a way that is pleasing to me.”

“My next question, then, is about what pleases you, when one such as I approach you for a wish? Is it a simple matter of bowing and addressing you in a certain way? Is it in the politeness and tone? Maybe it is in the heart, where the desire is in its purest form, for good or ill?”