Only One Mushroom for Such a Wish?!

“How are you feeling, Mary?” James called as he walked onto the porch.

“Normal,” I said, touching the wet grass.

His eyes shot to the ground.

“Nothing today either,” I said before he could.

“It’s fine. It will happen soon.”

“Want to go mushroom picking?”

“No.” James turned and walked back into the house.

I picked up my basket and made my way to the forest.

The damp earthy smell was in the air. Brown mushroom caps glistened under the sun. As I picked another, something rolled in the grass nearby – a small dwarf, but this one seemed different from the ones I usually saw. His hat was pointier and darker, and his beard was gray and rugged instead of white. 

“Hello there!”

The dwarf rubbed his eyes and looked up.

“Hello, miss. Beautiful mushrooms you have there.”

“Thank you.”

“I will grant you one wish if you let me have them.”

I squinted my eyes and looked closer at him.

“Since when can dwarves grant wishes?”

“I’m a special kind of dwarf.”

“I can just give you a mushroom if you want one.”

“No, I can’t take something for free.”

“I refuse, miss. The wish has to come first, and it needs to come from a deep desire.”

I shook my head. His eyes jumped from the basket to my face. I pulled out a mushroom and held it to him. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“Okay, magic man, I wish to be pregnant,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Your wish has been granted,” he said, taking the mushroom from my hand.

“Now, the rest of the basket, please.”

“No, I just picked them and already gave you one for free.”

His mouth flew open.

“Only one mushroom for such a wish?!”

“You’re no magical creature. You can't grant anything.”

He threw the mushroom at the ground and pointed his finger at me.

“You’ll see! I curse you and that bastard inside you!” he screamed and walked away.

I picked up the mushroom, dusted it off, and put it back in the basket. I wouldn't let a dwarf ruin my day.

James’s eyes lit up when he saw me walk in with the basket.

“So many mushrooms! I’ll make some pasta with them.”

“It’s okay, honey. I can cook them.”

“No, you picked them. It’s my job to cook them.”

The lunch was delicious. James seemed much happier that evening. I decided not to tell him about the incident.

The morning after, I woke up and got out of bed, but then a hard lump rose in my throat. I ran to the bathroom and began throwing up.

James ran after me, squatted next to the toilet, and rubbed my back. He was smiling ear to ear.

“Don’t get too excited; I think it was just the mushrooms.”

“I feel fine, honey.” 

He kissed my forehead and got me a glass of water.

I really hoped to be right, but the nausea returned the next morning, and it kept coming each morning after. With it came these strange, painful cramps. It felt like someone was moving my organs around inside me.

After a few weeks, my stomach started growing. The first time I noticed it, a chill crept up my spine, and the image of the dwarf flashed before my eyes. 

But everyone knew they couldn’t grant wishes. James and I must have just gotten lucky, I told myself.

My stomach kept growing, but it didn’t look pregnant. It looked more like bloating that old drinkers get. James kept telling everyone about how happy he was. I tried to share it with him, but the cold chill wouldn’t leave me. The uncomfortable feeling grew worse the first time the baby kicked. It felt like a ball hit my stomach. I collapsed to my knees and grabbed onto James.

“What’s going on?”

“The baby just kicked.”

He furrowed his brows and looked at my stomach.

“It shouldn’t feel like that. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

He helped me up to a chair and sat beside me.

“We should have someone look at you.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll go get a doctor.”

But before James could get up, another kick came, then another and another. I screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

“Jesus, Mary.” 

Then a loud pop echoed through the room, and a wave of warm, greyish-red liquid poured out of me.

Coldness washed over me, and James gripped my hand again.

An awful, excruciating pain came right after it. It felt like something was trying to tear its way out of me.

I screamed and cried, gripping tight onto James’s hands.

“The doctor,” James said, and he got up, but before he made his way across the room, something red and pointy came out between my legs.

Then the gray hair and beard. 

It was even wearing the same clothes.

The little hands grabbed the side of my legs and pulled itself out.

A small version of the dwarf now stood in the liquid between my legs, but its eyes were dark, empty.

I let out a scream and looked at James. He stood next to the door with his legs frozen to the ground.

“Mary, what is that?”

The dwarf shot his eyes at James and, without a second hesitation, ran towards him and sprang up to his chest, grabbing onto him. James staggered and tried to push it off, but the dwarf bit into his neck hard, taking out a piece of flesh. James cried in terror as blood started gushing onto the floor. 

He soon fell to the floor with the dwarf still on him. The creature kept chewing the piece of flesh in its mouth. When it finished, it turned its gaze to me and smiled.

I quickly scooted towards the wall, and my hand hit a small basket where a few mushrooms still lay.

“Too late,” the dwarf whispered, taking another bite out of James.