Wishes Aren't Just Hopes

Harv hated the smell of spring. He adjusted the cracked screen of his modified e-reader. It wasn't for reading books anymore. He’d soldered a bunch of copper wires and a sensor he’d stolen from a junked weather station to the side of it. He called it the Sniffer. It was supposed to find books, but mostly it just found lies. The screen flickered. A green dot pulsed. There. Right next to the old bookstore where the brick was crumbling.

Everything was a deal. You give a little, you get a little. That’s what his dad used to say before he walked out. Harv watched the people walking down the street. They looked like they were dreaming while they were awake. They wore bright clothes that didn’t fit the chilly wind. They were Wish Walkers. They followed the trails of yellow dust that blew off the Boreal Springboard trees. To them, it was magic. To Harv, it was just bio-tags. Data points. Little bits of tracking hardware disguised as nature.

"Move it, kid," a man in a sharp suit said. He bumped Harv’s shoulder. The man didn't even look back. He was staring at his phone, probably watching the 'Wish Count' go up on the official app.

Harv spat on the sidewalk. "Watch it yourself," he muttered, though the man was already gone. Harv looked down at his Sniffer. The signal near the bookstore was screaming. It wasn't just a wish. It was a cluster. A big one. The corporate bigwigs at Edgemont were sucking up every feeling these people had.

He walked over to the brick wall. A girl about his age was standing there. She had a smudge of yellow powder on her nose. She looked like she’d been crying, but she was smiling. It was the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes. It just sat on her face like a sticker.

"Did you make a wish?" she asked. Her voice was airy. It sounded like she was talking through a straw.

"I don't wish," Harv said. He checked his screen. The numbers were jumping. "What did you tell the tree?"

"I told it I wanted to stay here forever," she said. "The pollen... it tastes like honey. Don't you think? It makes the world look... soft."

"It’s not honey," Harv said. He tapped the Sniffer. "It’s stuff to make you quiet. It’s making you delusional. You’re literally breathing in a tracking device."

The girl laughed. It was a dry, weird sound. "You’re so serious. The Walkers say the pollen is just love. We’re all connecting. Can’t you feel the vibe?"

"The vibe is a land-grab," Harv said, but she wasn't listening. She was already drifting away, following a cloud of yellow dust that the wind had kicked up.

He needed to see the blueprints. He’d heard rumors about the new 'Gated Greenery' project. CEO Edgemont wasn't building a park. He was building a wall. Harv ducked into the alleyway behind the bookstore. He climbed a fence, his jeans catching on a rusted wire. He didn't care. He needed to get to the half-finished tiny homes on the edge of the woods. That’s where the real data was being kept.

The woods were loud. Not with birds, but with the hum of the Springboard machines. They were giant metal fans hidden in the pines, blowing the tagged pollen toward the town. It was a factory pretending to be a forest. Harv reached the construction site. The tiny homes were shells of wood and plastic. They looked like toys left out in the rain.

He slipped inside the furthest one. It smelled like fresh sawdust and something chemical. On a makeshift table made of two sawn-off logs and a sheet of plywood, he saw them. Blueprints.

He didn't need a computer to understand what he was looking at. The maps showed the town, but different. The bookstore was gone. The park was gone. In their place were tall, shiny towers. 'The Boreal Heights.' 'Exclusive Living.' 'For Those Who Wish for More.' The spots where the Wish Walkers felt most 'connected'—the places where the pollen was thickest—were marked with big red X's. Those were the foundation points for the condos.

"It's a trap," Harv whispered.

"It's progress, Harv."

He jumped, nearly knocking over the Sniffer. Standing in the doorway was Astrid. She was two years older than him, but today she looked like a stranger. She was wearing a dress that looked like it was made of woven grass. On her head was a giant crown of bright yellow flowers. They were the same flowers that produced the tagged pollen.

"Astrid?" Harv's heart was hammering against his ribs. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the face of the spring, Harv," she said. She stepped into the light. Her face was on the posters he’d seen all over town. The 'Bloom Brigade' leader. "Edgemont says I have a 'pure aura.' I help people find the best places to wish."

"You're helping them steal the town!" Harv held up the blueprints. "Look at this! They're tracking where people feel happy so they can charge a million dollars to live there. They're going to tear down the library. They're going to tear down our house!"

Astrid rolled her eyes. She reached up and adjusted her crown. A little cloud of yellow dust fell onto her shoulders. "You are such a vibe-killer. Always looking for the bad stuff. People are happy for the first time in years. Who cares about some old bricks?"

"I care!" Harv shouted. "And you should too! You’re wearing their tracking tech on your head!"

"It’s not tech, it’s nature," she said, but her voice faltered for a second. She looked at the Sniffer in his hand. "Is that the thing you made? The one that smells the air?"

"It doesn't smell. it detects. And it’s saying your crown is basically a giant antenna."

Astrid stepped closer. Her shadow was long in the half-finished room. "Edgemont told me you might be a problem. He said you have 'low frequency energy.' He wants to buy your Sniffer, Harv. He wants to buy the ledger you’ve been keeping. He’ll pay enough for us to get one of the top-floor units. We won't have to worry about the cold anymore."

Harv looked at his sister. She looked beautiful and fake, like a plastic flower in a graveyard. "You’re selling us out."

"I’m saving us!" she snapped. "Stop being so stubborn. Just give me the device. We can go home. We can have dinner. Real dinner, not the stuff out of the cans."

Harv backed away toward the open window frame. The wind was picking up outside. The yellow clouds were thick now, turning the sky a sickly, bright gold. "I'm not giving you anything."

"Don't be a hero," Astrid said. She didn't sound like his sister anymore. She sounded like an ad. "Nobody wants a hero. They just want to feel good."

"I'd rather feel the truth," Harv said. He gripped the Sniffer tight. He could feel the data humming inside it—the proof of every lie, every tracked location, every stolen wish.

He looked past her, out into the woods where the metal fans were spinning. The sun was setting, casting long, jagged shadows across the forest floor. The transaction was clear. He could have the shiny life, the warm room, the full stomach. Or he could have the cold, hard truth in a town that was being sold out from under him while it smiled.

He shifted his weight. The floorboards creaked. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed. Or maybe it was just the wind through the Springboard trees.

"I'm leaving, Astrid," Harv said. "Don't follow me."

"You have nowhere to go!" she yelled.

He didn't answer. He jumped out the window, landing hard on the muddy ground. He didn't look back at the girl in the flower crown. He ran toward the trees, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The yellow dust tasted like metal in his mouth, but he didn't stop. He had the ledger. He had the proof.

He reached the edge of the creek. The water was black and fast, swollen with the spring melt. He sat down behind a large rock, his chest heaving. He looked at the cracked screen of his device. It was still pulsing. Green. Real.

Everything was a transaction. He’d just decided what he was willing to pay.

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. The air was getting colder. The fake smell of flowers was fading, replaced by the sharp, honest scent of damp pine and freezing water. It was the first thing that had felt real all day.