One for All

Harry J. Chong

A rejected eighteen year old virgin sat on his porch. It was Friday night and he had
nothing to do. His face was rested on his hands and arms, being propped up as if a tent.
“Groan,” he went. “I can never get any dates. It’s because of how I look I bet. People
judge me by what’s on the outside and not on the inside. But what should I expect? We
live in a world of MTV and YouTube. All they care about is money, fame, and sex. The
sex part is really frustrating.”
A voiced from inside the house called. It was Gabriel’s mother.
“Gabe honey,” she said, “we’ve run out of milk. Would you be a dear and run to the
convenience store? It should be open at this hour… Oh and pick up a pack of cigarettes if
you can. I’ll reimburse you when you return.”
“Yes,” said Gabriel. Then he tied up his shoelaces and retrieved his bicycle from the
garage. He pedaled along the sidewalk till he came to the traffic lights, which were on
red. A vagrant stuck his hand out asking for change.
“Sorry,” said Gabriel. “I don’t have any change. And, uh, I need my other money to
buy cigarettes and milk.” He paused. “Aw, hell! My mom don’t need cigarettes.” And he
cheerfully gave the vagrant a ten dollar bill.
The vagrant smiled.
“Thank you,” he said. “I owe you one, sonny.”
“It’s alright,” said Gabriel. “A good deed is a reward in itself.”
“Nuh-uh,” said the vagrant. “A kid like you deserves somethin’. Tells you what. I
have something in my jacket—”
“Oh, god. You’re going to rob me?”
“WUT! No! It’s just a flute, sonny.”
The vagrant took out a flute—a wood type—from his jacket and handed it to Gabriel.
It had five holes in it.
“I can’t accept this,” said Gabriel. “It’s unhygienic.”
“It’s not for making music,” said the vagrant. “It’s a wish flute. Yeah. I got it from
some antique shop in Dhaka. It has five wishes… Actually, three now, since I used up the
first two. You use it by covering the holes and blowing. Put a finger on a hole and blow.
Then make a wish. Only the last three work, those being the ones closest to your lips.”
“Alright, so this is a magical, wish-granting flute? Really? Why don’t you use it to
zap yourself out of poverty?”
“Don’t you done listen to me? I used the first two an’ wished for the wrong things.
Now, I’m afraid to use the others. I figure a good kid like you could put the other wishes
to good use.”
“Uh, sure, okay.”
“Keep that safe, alright?”
Only out of politeness did Gabriel keep the flute. So, after placing it at the back of
his pants—the way a gangster would keep a gun—he hastily rode off on his bike and
visited the convenience store. When he returned home, he found his mother asleep on the
couch. He placed the milk into the fridge and went up to his room. He went to bed.
Saturday came, and when Gabrielle woke up with a yawn, he noticed the flute that
the vagrant gave him was still on his study desk. He took it and looked at it in an amused
manner.
 “Heh,” he said, “imagine if this thing really could give wishes. How great would that
be? Hm…” Then he went to the bathroom, washed the wood flute off with soap, and
dried with a towel. He stared at it a minute with scepticism.
“Nah,” he kept saying. “Nah.”
Then he threw up his hands, “Aw, what’s the harm! It’s all in good fun. What should
I wish for first? Ha-ha. Something stupid maybe. I bet it won’t come true.”
Gabriel covered the third flute hole—remembering what the vagrant told him about
him using two wishes—and blew. The sound was shocking. High pitched and loud. So
much so that it caused every fragile thing in the bathroom to break: the mirror, the
window, and even the toilet.
“Christ,” said Gabriel. There was a ringing in his ears. “It’s like a foghorn.” He
regained his sense with a shake of his head. “I bet this flute thing is some sorta cursed
deal. Never gives you what you ask for.” He put the flute down momentarily, but then
couldn’t resist the temptation of a possible wish. “Okay,” he said, picking it up, “I’ll test
it out. To see if I got a bum deal. I’ll wish for something small and very simple. If that
doesn’t work out, then I won’t make the other two wishes.”
Gabriel cleared his mind and then his throat. “I wish…” He was hesitant. “I wish that
my mom would quit smoking.” He sniggered. “Heh. Yeah, right. Not even God could
make her do that.”
And he waited for something to happen. The moment, however, was most
uneventful. Gabriel expected more pizzazz from his supposedly magic flute. Maybe some
fireworks or lightning. Nope, nothing at all. The boy chalked up the whole everything-in-
the-bathroom-shattering to coincidence, and tossed his flute into the trash can.
When Gabriel went downstairs for breakfast, in the kitchen, he immediately noticed
something was off. There wasn’t the smell of cigarettes instead of a meal. Gabriel’s mom,
Laura, was having toast and eggs.
“Mom…” Gabriel said tentatively. “What’re you doing?”
“Why, just eating breakfast,” said Mary. “Would you like me to fry you up an egg?”
“I’m not too hungry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Gabriel sat beside his mom, Mary. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?”
“Doing what?” asked Mary. “It is the weekend, after all.”
“I know that. I meant—aren’t you going to have a cigarette?”
“You know what? I woke up and just didn’t feel like it… I think I’m going to quit.”
Gabriel ran upstairs.
“Gabe honey?” said Mary.
Gabriel went into the bathroom and picked out the flute from the garbage. He shook
while holding it.
“It works,” he said, “it actually works.” His eyes went a bit crossed. “But what
should I wish for? I could wish for anything in the world.” He put the flute away into his
pocket. “No! I have to think about it. I can’t waste it. I have to give it time. I’ll get a good
idea later.”

It was about the afternoon and Gabriel was still at home. After finishing (reading) a
novel, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He had purposefully forgotten about the
flute. He didn’t want to force any decisions or be overanxious. He decided that he should
go out tonight. So, he called up Alexa, his only friend from high school. She was a nice
girl who only saw him as a friend—much to his annoyance.
 He picked up the phone and dialled Alexa. He waited for her to answer. Then five
minutes gone and a voice finally came.
“Hello,” said Alexa in a somewhat sleepy voice. Sounded like she was in bed.
“H-h-hi,” said Gabriel nervously.
“Who is this?”
“Don’t you recognize my voice?”
“Peter? Oh, hi!”
“No… This isn’t Peter. It’s Gabe. Gabriel. Remember?”
“Yes, yes. I knew that. Ah-ha-ha. What’s up?”
“Are you free tonight? I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies. There’s
this great new movie that just came out and…”
“…I’m sorry, Gabriel. I have something to do. I’m taking care of my sick grandma.
Yeah. She caught the flu or something.”
“That’s terrible. I hope she gets better soon.”
“Old lady. Might take a while.” Alexa then pretended to hear a voice calling.
“WHAT’S THAT? OH, OKAY, DAD! I JUST HAVE TO SAY GOOD-BYE TO A
FRIEND!” She returned to Gabriel. “Hey, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye!”
“Alright, b—”
The phone hung up before Gabriel could say bye. He slumped in his chair. “Once
again, here I am with nothing to do. I don’t even have TV or an internet connection.” He
yawned. “I feel tired.” Gabriel felt tired whenever he was feeling down. Depression gave
him that too tired for life feeling. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Two hours went by, and Gabriel woke up. He looked at his alarm clock. It was 8:00
PM. “Well,” he said, “I may as well do something with myself today. No use bawling
over nothing. I can still have a good time on my own.” And he got out from bed, put on
his clothes, and brushed his teeth. He went downstairs, very quietly, and took his bicycle
out from the garage. He didn’t want his mom to know he was going to the movies alone.
He always thought it was sort of a pathetic thing to do.
He pedaled his bicycle for thirty-one minutes till he reached the movie theatre. A
hulking, flashy structure, it was appended to the mall and was full of kids. A lot of them
were around Gabriel’s age, which made him all the more nervous. Normally he’d visit
midday when not many people were around, and he’d only bump into old people who
didn’t really notice him. But the place now was packed.
“Stop being so damn self-conscious,” Gabriel said to himself. He went to lock up his
bicycle. “You’re just going in to see Stars and Gripes.” He went into the theatre, went to
the little booth, and asked for nine o’clock to see Stars and Gripes.
“All out,” said the cashier who was about sixteen. “Wanna see something else?”
“Well…” said Gabriel. “Well…”
“Young man, there are other people waiting in line. If you can’t come to a decision
—”
“Okay, fine! What’s available that’s on at nine?”
“House of Roses.”
“What’s it about?”
“Chick flick.”
“I don’t wanna see a ‘chick flick.’”
“It’s this or Jerkass Four.”
“Uh… Fine, fine. Gimme the ticket.”
 Gabriel gave his money to the cashier and received his ticket for House of Roses. As
he searched for screening room four, somewhat clumsily, he thought he saw something in
his peripheral. Couldn’t be, he thought. Then he took a few steps forward for a better
view. It was Alexa.
Alexa! She was supposed to be taking care of her sick grandmother! What’s she
doing here? And she’s with all her friends, and there’s guy wrapped around her arms! A
very good looking one! I thought she wasn’t ready for a relationship! She lied to me!
Calm only came to Gabriel when he started rationalizing what he’d seen.
Alexa probably did take care of her grandmother. Yep. Bet she went over, and gave
her a pot of soup. And that guy with his arm around her, oh, that’s just a friend. Alexa’s
a flirty type. She’s always hugging and touching boys. That’s just her French
personlality. It means absolutely nothing.
Then Alexa went on her tiptoes and gave the guy on her arm a big, wet kiss upon the
lips. Gabriel felt his stomach sink. The phrase “That bitch!” came to his mind, but he
recanted, and told himself he was being silly. She kissed him again.
“No,” said Gabriel. He saw Alexa and her guy and her friends coming his way. He
hid around the snack stand, where they eventually arrived. They chatted as they stood in
line.
“So,” said Alexa’s friend, “how’s your grandma doing?”
“Not bad,” said Alexa. “I went over to her place and gave her a pot of soup. I was
going to stay, but she insisted I leave and have fun.”
Gabriel wiped the sweat from his brow.
“So,” said Alexa’s friend, “are you and Troy going to the prom?”
Troy was the guy clung to Alexa, of course.
“Yep,” said Alexa. “And then after the prom…”
“Sheesh,” said Troy. “You know that I’m saving myself for marriage.” He burst into
laughter along with everyone else.
Gabriel nearly shat himself, but he kept quiet, continuing his eavesdropping. There
were others behind him, but they weren’t all too suspicious. They were teens. Their heads
were mostly up their asses.
“Hey,” said Alexa’s friend, another one, “what happened to that guy?”
“What guy?” said Alexa.
“The nerd.”
“I know a lot of nerds.”
“Aw, what’s his name—Gabriel?”
“Oh, him. Yeah. What about?”
“Doesn’t have a huge crush on you?”
“Must we discuss my love life in public?”
“I’m just saying. I met the guy. He’s pretty damn nice. He helped me with my
homework. How come you didn’t go out with him? He made a little proposal to you,
didn’t he?”
“Well,” said Alexa, “he’s not my type.”
“Ha!” said Alexa’s friend.
“What’s with the ‘Ha!’?” said Troy. His arms were folded. “And what do you mean
he’s not your type? I always hear this—well, not directed toward me, but what’s it
mean?”
“Guys are so dense,” said Alexa’s friend. “It means she thinks he’s unattractive. You
know, ugly.”
“Is that true?” said Troy.
 “Well,” said Alexa, “he’s no Brad Pitt.”
Gabriel left the snack stand and ran outside. His eyes were bulging with tears, and he
didn’t want anyone to see him cry. He loved Alexa—he thought she could be “the one.”
He couldn’t believe that she didn’t return his feelings just because of how he looked. But
then he figured that it was true. He really wasn’t that good looking at all. His head was
like a square, and he had terrible skin that was riddled with acne. Also, he had signs of
male pattern baldness—and he was fat.
The last part probably made him feel the worst.
Gabriel was halfway to his house when he suddenly stopped. He took his bicycle and
leaned it against the lamppost, which was flickering with orange. And then he took out
his flute. There was a glowing look in his eyes.
“I could make this world better,” he said. “With just one blow of this flute I could.”
He paused. “If everyone looked the same…” He thought. “Nobody would be judged by
the way they looked…” He smiled. “Only personality would matter…” He blew his flute.
“I wish everyone, gender and age differences aside, would look the same…”
Suddenly a strong gust of wind flipped Gabriel’s hair over his face. When he brushed
it back, and looked around, there were gorillas everywhere.
Gorillas!
Gorillas were walking on the sidewalks.
Gorillas were driving cars.
Gorillas were everywhere.
Gabriel screamed.
“No!” he said. “This isn’t what I wanted!” But then he calmed down. His flute was
still in hand. “Okay, it’s okay. It’s okay! Relax! I have one more wish left. I’ll just undo
this.”
As he was about to use his flute, the vagrant he met earlier—the one who gave him
the flute—came by from around the corner.
“Sonny,” said the vagrant, who was raggedly dressed like always. “I wanted to tell
you something.”
“Not now,” said Gabriel. “I’m busy.” Then he put his finger on the last hole of his
whistle with haste and blew. “I wish,” he said, “everything would return to normal.” He
closed his eyes, and then opened them with a rub.
But his hands were still dark and furry. “What’s going on?” he stammered
hysterically. “It should have worked! I just gotta wait…that’s it!”
The vagrant interrupted. “I have to tell you something, sonny. About that flute I gave
you. I told you that I only used two wishes on it. Actually…I used three. You only had
two wishes.”
“You’re lying,” said Gabriel. “How am I going to undo my last wish?!”
The vagrant smiled; his long, thick, gorilla lips stretched. “Why, what’s the matter?”

Fin.