Chapter 2: The World Changes

Becky looked stunned. She set the ring on the bedside table. "How did that happen? You said there were only three wishes."

Andrea shook her head. "I felt it. After the last wish, the ring lost its zing. It went from this living thing to just a cold piece of metal."

"Maybe it only gives three wishes to each owner."

Andrea slapped her forehead. "Of course! If it could only give three wishes, it would have been used up by its first owner.

"Now, do you remember what you wished for?"

The brunette shut her eyes. "I'm not sure. Seeing the flash of light threw me for a loop. Let me think."

Andrea stroked her hair. "Calm down and relax. You were laying here on the bed, in the afterglow of some great sex. You had the ring in your hand, and you said 'I just wish... '"

"I just wish that all women could experience the happiness we've found."

The thirty year old sat down on the bed beside her love. "This is not good. Not good at all."

"What's wrong?"

"Wishes are tricky things. The ring will take what you wish for literally, sometimes out of context, if you're not careful. That's why I spent about a half hour writing and rewriting when I wished for you." Andrea went over and picked up the pad of hotel stationery, and showed her the early drafts.

Pulling out a new sheet of paper, Andrea picked up her pen. "Let me write down exactly what you said."

Becky got up and watched her write.

"That's what you said, right?"

Becky nodded.

"At the most benign interpretation, you've just turned every woman in the world lesbian."

Her jaw dropped, "The whole world?!"

"You did say 'all women'. Wishes are powerful things. My first wish rearranged reality and my second teleported you to a different floor."

"But, to change the entire world?"

"I hope I'm wrong."

Becky's heart was pounding. "You said that was the most benign interpretation. What's the worst?"

"You wished that 'all women could experience the happiness we've found.' How did we achieve this happiness? We not only met and fell in love; we also killed your husband."

"You killed my husband."

"That's true. But it doesn't matter. The point is killing a spouse was part of the process of us obtaining happiness."

Becky gasped. "You mean..."

"Right now millions, no billions of women are killing their husband. Heck they may be killing all the men they are close to."

"What do we do? What do we do?!" shouted Becky.

Andrea grabbed her by the shoulders. "The first thing we do is calm down. We go out and look around. See what's what."

Becky nodded. They both got dressed and headed down the elevator to the lobby.

Before they left, Becky pocketed the ring.

Stepping into the lobby, everything seemed normal. A competent looking young woman sat behind the long front counter. She looked the two women up and down, as they approached. Especially Becky, who only had her evening gown to wear. "Can I help you?" she asked professionally.

"Can we speak to the manager?" Andrea asked.

"I'm sorry. The third shift manager is no longer with us. But I should be able to help you."

Andrea leaned over and saw the body of a man behind the counter. It looked like his head had been smashed in by something heavy.

She tried to suppress her shock and horror. "I-I see. We're fine right now. Thank you."

As they left the front desk clerk slipped Becky her card. "Call me if you get tired of her," she whispered.

The two went back up to Andrea's room.

"It's the worst case scenario," cried Andrea, after she had closed the door.

"Why do you say that?" asked Becky.

"You mean you didn't see behind the counter?" Andrea told her what she had seen.

"I still have two wishes," cried Becky. "I can undo what I've done."

She pulled the ring out of her pocket and slipped it on her finger. "I wish that the first wish I made never happened."

This time there was no flash of white light.

"Shit!" exclaimed Becky.

"What happened?" asked Andrea.

"The ring spoke to me, kind of. It told me that wishes could not be unmade by the person who wished it. Once spoken, they were permanent."

"Shit!" Andrea echoed.

"It did say a wish could be added onto, but not contradicted.

"It also said that I had just used up one of my wishes."

Andrea sighed, clutching her head. "So we have only one wish left."

"What can we do?" Becky cried.

The two sat on the edge of the bed, wracking their brains.

Andrea finally spoke. "The most important thing is to keep the men alive. I mean, without them the human race is doomed."

"There is cloning," said her partner.

"I try to keep up on science, and I haven't heard of any real advances in cloning lately. I don't want to risk humanity's future on possible future technology that might or might not pan out."

Becky nodded. "You're right. Let's work on our addition to the wish."

After ten minutes of writing and rewriting, seeing that time was of the essence; they came up with the best possible addendum to the original wish.

Becky stood up and rehearsed the wish a couple times before she put on the ring. Though nervous, she spoke with a clear voice. "I wish that all women, though they may wish all men dead, will realize that men are necessary for humanity's future, and a substantial number need to be preserved for procreation purposes."

The ring flashed with a white light.

Becky felt the power drain away from the ring. She sat down on the bed with a sigh. "Well, that's all we could do. I hope it's enough."

All over the globe, billions of men died with no warning, at the hands of the women they trusted most.

It was 1:04 am when Becky had made her first wish.

In Minneapolis it was just after midnight. Edith Connors woke up from a sound sleep and knew what she had to do. The question was how to do it. She looked at the knitting needles in her knitting basket, but rejected them. She needed something more reliable.

The septuagenarian got up, put on her heavy housecoat, and walked as softly as her arthritis would allow to the kitchen. In the knife holder was the long serrated knife, the one she used to trim fat off of steaks, and cut chicken breasts into cubes, when she made stir-fry. She pulled it out of its wooden holder. She admired the way the stainless steel blade flashed in the dim light of the nightlight that was in the hallway.

Taking it in her hand, she returned to her bedroom. Still asleep, was her husband of fifty-seven years, Roger. He was snoring softly on his side, facing away from Edith, on the edge of their queen-sized bed.

She crawled onto the bed, and reached over, so the serrated blade was against his throat. With no hesitation, Edith pushed down hard and gave a hard tug.

Just like that, Roger's jugular vein was severed. He let out a gasp, but couldn't talk, as his esophagus had been cut too. Pint upon pint of blood spilled onto the hardwood floor. In a minute, he was dead.

It was nice of Roger to sleep so close to the side, Edith mused. Blood stains were so hard to get out of sheets and blankets.

She pulled all the covers off of her ex-husband, and pushed his body onto the floor. She put the sheets and blankets back on and crawled back into bed.

Edith lay in bed, thinking if she needed to kill anyone else. Her son, Jack, who lived just two blocks away, came to mind, but she knew her daughter-in-law could take care of him. She could help her dispose of Roger's body in the morning.

Her father was in a nursing home several miles away, in very poor health. But she knew there were plenty of women on staff to take care of him.

And what to do about her four grandsons? Two of them weren't even men yet, according to Karen. Let the mother decide, she thought.

Unable to think of anyone else, she snuggled beneath the layers of warmth, and went back to sleep.

The police dispatcher picked up the line that had been ringing. "911 Dispatch, is this an emergency?"

"Yes, I am William Young. I live at 5811 S. Elm; and my fiancée, Diane, just tried to kill me. We were having sex, and she suddenly swung a lamp at my head!"

"Are either of you hurt?" asked the dispatcher, looking at the corpse of her male colleague that still had a phone cord wrapped around his neck.

"No, but I had to tie her up, so she wouldn't hurt me again. She won't say why she's so mad at me. I haven't done anything."

"Don't worry, Mr. Young. We'll dispatch a patrol car to residence immediately."

Within ten minutes, a patrol car pulled up to the house.

When William opened the door, the policewoman shot him twice between the eyes.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

The patrolwoman stepped over the body. She found Diane and untied her from a chair.

After five minutes, Karen Connors took the pillow off of her husband's face. He had long stopped struggling, but she wanted to make sure he wasn't just faking. His dead eyes stared up at the ceiling.

She sighed. Jack was the easy one. Now came the hard part: her four sons. Jack Jr. was a football lineman. He could easily overpower her if she wasn't careful.

She looked around the house for anything that could knock him out, like ether. Not finding anything, she crept toward her eldest son's bedroom door. There were no firearms in the house, so she decided to use a knife.

As she was about to open it, a thought occurred to her. These boys came out of her. They were her legacy. With no daughters, the four were only way to send her DNA into the future. She put down the knife, went to the phone, and dialed 911.

"911 Dispatch," said a female voice. "What is the nature is the nature of the emergency?"

"I have four young ones. Two of them are prepubescent."

"We'll get a car over soon. It may be an hour. We're very busy tonight."

"I understand."

Forty-five minutes later, a silent squad car pulled up with two policewomen inside. Karen escorted them inside, warning them about Jack Jr.

Using a stun gun and mace, the officers subdued him with minimal noise and fuss. They stripped off his underwear, cuffed him, and dragged him out to the squad car through the cold Minnesota night.

Tommy, or Thomas, as he wanted to be called, was a lot easier. He was the brains of the family, and wasn't much of a physical threat. They subdued him also, and dragged him out naked into the car.

As the officers were leaving, Karen asked "What do about the other two?"

"Take them to school tomorrow, as you normally do. The school will take care of them from there."

"Boys! Time to get up!"

Thirteen year old Jason Connors opened his eyes and looked over at his younger brother, Eric, who was still trying to sleep. Little brothers could be so annoying. He was looking forward to Jack going to college next fall. He'll get his own room then.

He swung his feet onto the floor and got dressed. He looked at the clock and gasped. "We're late! Kid! Get up!"

The ten year old groggily rolled out of bed.

They quickly dressed and headed down to the kitchen.

Their mom, Karen, had a glass of orange juice and a pop tart waiting for them. "Hurry up and eat; we're running late."

They wolfed down their breakfast and headed to the family SUV.

It was flurrying when the mother dropped Jason off at the circle drive in front of his junior high. She then drove a quarter mile to the elementary school where Eric went.

When Jason entered, a security guard stopped him. "Please come with me," she said, with her hand on her holster.

Mystified, he followed her into a large empty room where eight other boys were also waiting. Jason recognized several of them as his classmates. He asked the others what was going on, but they all had no clue.

After three more boys joined them, the security guard closed the door. "All of you take off your clothes, now."

There was a stunned silence. A couple of the younger ones snickered.

The female guard got angry. "Did I stutter? Strip, now!"

One of the oldest ones spoke up. "No, I won't..."

He was cut short by a bullet through his brain. He dropped to the ground dead.

The guard kept her gun aimed at the eleven boys. "Do I have your attention now? Undress now or I will shoot someone else. As a matter of fact, I will shoot the last boy who is still dressed."

Suddenly, all eleven sprang into action. They disrobed fearfully at a reckless pace. Buttons flew off shirts as they ripped off their clothes.

The guard nodded in satisfaction. "That's more like it. Now, pick up your clothes and follow me." She opened the door and exited the room.

Outside was another female guard, who followed the last of the train.

The boys discovered that there were no other males in the school, only girls. They all stopped and stared at the naked boys as they walked down the halls. Many pointed and laughed. Jason had never been so humiliated in his life.

Eventually, they wound up at the custodian's room. Inside was a large furnace that kept the school warm from the late autumn cold.

The guard opened the furnace door and pointed inside. "Everyone toss all you belongings in here."

One boy worked up the courage to speak. "Everything? Even my smartphone and my wallet?"

"You're right. Take out your wallets, and hand them to me. Everything else goes."

With two armed guards watching them, the boys had no choice but do what they said. Soon they were completely naked, with only their hands to cover themselves.