First Wish

First Wish

Three of them? Four? Or maybe… countless? Just how many could there be?!

The roof of the newly built shed had no holes at all, a solid surface that was a little stiff, sure, but still surprisingly comfy to lie on. And to make things even cozier, he had dragged up an inflatable mattress, which he pumped up all by himself. Well… not exactly by himself. The pump was automatic, so technically it did all the work.

With the matching pillow tucked under his head, he froze there, unable to look away.

So how many are there?! Could it be as many as the trees in this forest?

Let’s see: one trunk, then another tree, then a third. Wow! There are so many of them too. Who would win in a contest—trees or stars? Who’s stronger, who’s more numerous? Or maybe… why should they fight at all, when both are so beautiful and calm?

Trees are good at so many things: they smell nice, they make that soothing whisper with their crowns, and their leaves fall so beautifully in autumn. They’re tall and mesmerizing too! When you look at them from below, it’s as if they’ve stretched their huge legs deep into the earth just so their leafy heads can stay out of reach of all those pesky humans staring at them all the time.

Sometimes they can even be scary… especially at night, when that noisy crowd argues with the air, and the air strikes back, whipping the trees with furious winds. That’s when these living logs bend and twist like they’re about to rip their roots out and actually do something. Maybe something nice—like having a tea party together. Or maybe even chasing him around in a game of tag.

But no… trees could never do anything bad.

And what about the stars? They’re dazzling too, bursting with energy, but unbearably… far away! That’s what makes him mad sometimes. You look up there, trying to figure out why they all gathered together, and you can’t. Maybe just so they don’t have to answer any questions? Fine then! Stay mysterious if you want. I won’t bug you for your secrets.

The first one!

There—it streaked across the sky. Erich held his breath, waiting for the meteor shower to come, when the whole sky would turn into one massive firework of sparkling dots! They’d stretch into commas, vanish behind the horizon, and maybe people in faraway countries could catch them.

Too bad it never happened here. Not once. He dreamed of a little—or maybe huge (what size were they, anyway?)—star falling right into his backyard. So he could walk up, pat it on the shoulder and whisper: Don’t be scared. You might not be home anymore, but this place can be okay too, especially if you’ve got friends around.

Somewhere nearby, strange birds shrieked in hysterical voices. That usually meant a storm was on its way. At least, that’s what his grandma always said. She also had something about frogs… that they croak loudest when bad weather’s coming.

The shimmering sky blurred in front of his eyes, and he forgot all about the possible rain. As if the clouds themselves had decided to join him for tea. Though, honestly, the sky full of storm clouds probably didn’t crave a warm glow—its nature was different. Darker, chillier, unfriendly to fire.

And the stars? They shut their curtains, hiding from him. The clouds, on the other hand, grew heavy with power. A rumble rolled somewhere in the distance. The wind snapped, nearly knocking over the little teacup sitting beside Erich. Whoa! That was it. A storm was definitely coming.

But nature, angry as it was, still didn’t seem eager to release anything exciting. Not even the simplest gift of all—a good rain. How could anyone not love rain? Those streams of water were probably more fun than the whole forest and the entire universe put together. You couldn’t exactly run around in space or in the woods the way you could in the rain—splashing, shouting, and snorting like Pobbi, who sat right next to him now.

Pobbi was usually calm and obedient. He rarely showed any urge to go wild. But a heavy downpour always flipped him upside down—turning him into Erich’s full-time partner in leaping, soaking, and racing under a million-million drops.

“Come on, rain, where are you?” Erich whispered aloud, his voice soft and pleading as he gazed upward. The sky stayed silent… or maybe not! Something was falling—something that looked exactly like a single drop. But why was it alone, without its usual army? And why was it floating down so slowly, as if it didn’t want to hurry and play with him and Pobbi?

Maybe the little piece of water actually heard him, because suddenly it sped up, hurling itself downward. Two or three heartbeats later—bam! It smacked him right on the forehead and bounced softly aside.

Pobbi whimpered, pressing himself close to his two-legged friend as if to comfort him, but Erich jumped to his feet and shouted proudly:

“See? Didn’t hurt at all! Look—no bruise. I can scratch it and it still doesn’t sting. So no black eye either.”

Strangely enough, the drop had felt almost weightless, like he barely noticed it at all. But where was it now? Had it already melted away into a tiny puddle?

With the sky shut tight, there wasn’t enough light. And since his mom had already gone to bed, no glow shone from the house windows either. Erich, of course, found a quick solution: he fished his phone out of his pocket and switched on the flashlight. A beam cut instantly through the dark. Pobbi pushed up against him, and together they stepped toward the fallen guest.

Scanning the rooftop with his eyes, Erich saw nothing.

“Do you get it?” he asked his furry partner in confusion. “How could it just vanish?”

The dog gave a long sound of agreement—and then his paw pressed down on something cold and solid. He buried his nose into it, signaling for Erich to look closer.

Erich shone the beam and froze.

There it was—a huge chunk of ice. It looked like a rectangular icicle, blunt at both ends. If not for the dim glow shining from inside it, it could have passed for an ordinary brick.

“Whoa! We only had hail once around here, and I never got a close look back then. Pobbi, check this out—it’s so weird! Smell it, tell me what you think.”

After a serious round of sniffing, the shaggy detective came to the conclusion that it had no smell at all. He shared this with a little whine. Erich scratched his head.

“Hmm… okay. But why isn’t it melting? Why is it… wait—it’s growing?! Oh no, Pobbi, run! It’s getting bigger!”

The frightened pair scrambled almost to the very edge of the low roof before stopping—because curiosity was always sneakier than fear. They turned, and what they saw was impossible: the hailstone was swelling, bigger and bigger. First the size of two cobblestones side by side, then as large as a chair, and then…

“A sarcophagus!” Erich gasped, recalling the Egyptian history lessons from school. “A real sarcophagus made of pure ice! Which pharaoh is inside—the one who rules all the Snowmen?”

Pobbi snorted, clearly doubtful, and to prove Erich wrong, he boldly trotted up to the frozen wonder.

Erich’s fear made him want to stay back, but he couldn’t look like a coward in front of his brave dog. So he tiptoed after him.

Pobbi was already sniffing around the heavenly delivery, scratching at the frost that stuck to his paw. Erich reached out and brushed his hand across the top—the ice wouldn’t budge. Nothing could be seen inside.

“How does it open? Oh, if only I could see who’s in there!”

The moment he spoke, his words turned into a spell. The whole block of ice melted away in an instant, as if it had never been there. And on the roof now lay… a girl. The most unusual girl he had ever seen. Not in his class, not in his little town—nowhere. He could swear on it.

“What do you think? Are there many like her in big cities? I’ve been there with Mom, I’ve seen all kinds of people…”

If Pobbi could’ve shrugged, he probably would have. Instead, he decided it was his job to take full medical responsibility and wake their guest.

He carefully licked her forehead first, then her cheeks. With great satisfaction, he saw her eyes slowly open. They were deep, striking eyes—violet pupils glowing against skin that had the faintest purplish hue. Only her skin showed just a tint, but her pupils were filled entirely with that color.

The girl yawned, stretched, and stood up very slowly, almost lazily. She looked around without a trace of surprise at where she had landed, then simply fixed her hair. One side of her head was shaved, while the other side was covered with dreadlocks, their ends tied with colorful ribbons that danced in the breeze.

She stared at them insistently and started gesturing. Neither of them understood. Pobbi made a clumsy attempt to mimic her movements with his paws, but failed miserably.

“We don’t understand you,” Erich said, shaking his head. In a blink, the girl zipped right up to him. She filled her lungs, then exhaled a cloud of greenish particles, like pollen. Erich, caught off guard, inhaled some by accident—well, he had to breathe anyway!

A pleasant taste spread across his mouth, sweet like the best honey. She did the same to Pobbi. Then, with a hoarse, surprisingly rough voice, she asked:

“And who are you?”

Her voice was so low, so guttural, like an angry grown woman speaking through her. Erich snapped to attention like a soldier and stammered out:

“I’m Pobbi, the dog. No—wait… he’s me. No, I mean—oh, I messed it up again!”

“You’re confusing,” the girl remarked with a frown.

“No, no, it’s just… we don’t usually have girls falling from the sky inside giant ice coffins, so I got a little mixed up. Pobbi’s way more confident than I am. If he could talk, he’d explain everything himself. But since he can’t, I—”

“I already know,” the girl interrupted. She crouched down and laid the back of her hand gently on Pobbi’s paw. The dog gazed at her with serious eyes. “Your name is Erich. You live out here on the edge of the woods with your mom and Pobbi. You go to school, and your mom works as an astronomer.”

“No way! Buddy, you really told her all that?” Erich exclaimed, scratching Pobbi behind the ears as the dog purred with pride. “Yep, that’s us. That’s exactly who we are. And you—who are you, if it’s not a secret?”

“No secrets between me and Pobbi. I’m still confused by your words and customs, but if I’ve understood right, this is when I’m supposed to tell you my name. A standard greeting ritual, yes? Then let me be… Nibi. I like the sound of it.”

“And I do too,” Erich admitted, already thinking what an amazing new friend he’d just found. “But what does it mean?”

“I suppose it means… me.” The girl said it with grand importance. Erich and Pobbi burst into laughter. The dog’s laugh came out like a coughing fit after devouring ten pounds of ice cream, but he still managed to smile. He knew perfectly well this friendship would’ve been impossible without him. Nibi, on the other hand, only blinked at them in quiet puzzlement.

At last, when the laughter died down, Erich offered her the cup of tea he hadn’t touched yet. The three of them settled on the mattress, with Pobbi sitting in between like the supervisor of their meeting.

“How marvelous!” the guest exclaimed. “So you too consume liquid in order to keep living? And not colorless either, but flavored?”

“You bet!” Erich grinned. “And if you tried my grandma’s lemonade, you’d totally lose your mind.”

The girl leaned forward curiously.

“And what does that mean—lose your mind?”

“I don’t know,” Erich shrugged. “But it sounds awesome. How else can you describe lemonade that’s the best of the best? Anyway, where do you live?”

She hesitated, flexing her fingers like she was playing an invisible piano. Then she answered with the same strange phrasing:

“How can you describe something you don’t have? I’m everywhere and nowhere. I fly here and there—wherever I want.”