Paenismus

Paenismus (pai-nis’-mus): Expressing joy for blessings obtained or an evil avoided.

The floodwaters were rising. Weird crap was floating past my house—a tree trunk, a hot water heater, a dining room table, a mattress, a rubber boot. Suddenly it looked like the food was subsiding. I felt like Noah—I was filled with glee—the flood had passed me by. As the water went down I noticed a silver globe embedded in the mud that used to be my front lawn. It was wiggling and rolling around like there was something alive inside it. I’d seen toy balls that did that, but they were much smaller. I picked it up and twisted it open. There was a little man inside. He was sopping wet. He said “Goddamnit, I nearly drowned.“ I was so shocked I dropped the two halves of the ball. He looked up at me and said “What the hell are you going to do now? You saved my life, so now I owe you the cliched three wishes. What do want? Remember, they have to be for things and sentient beings, no countries, piles of money, or mountains, etc.” We went inside my house. He had miraculously dried off already. His suit was amazing. It flashed pale green and gray when he moved. He said, “Ok, go for it Mr. Savior.”

I was ready. As the king of loneliness, I knew what I needed, and wanted too. “I want somebody to love me.” There was a screeching sound, like worn out brakes, a puff of fog and another noise I had never heard before before, sort of like a cross between a banjo and a rusty hinge. The fog cleared, and there was a big mutt sitting there with a black and white striped coat, and floppy ears. The little man said the dog’s name was Moobert. “He loves you,” said the little man. I told him I wanted a woman, not a dog. “Why didn’t you say so. The Three Wishes Rulebook clearly states ‘that in the event of a vague wish, the Little Man may choose from among the possible wishes.’ You said somebody, and clearly, Moobert is a somebody.” Moobert sat on my foot and looked me in the eye. I liked Moobert.

“Ok, I’m ready for my next wish. I want ten more wishes.” There was a blinding flash of light, and a deep voice said: “You have broken the cardinal rule of wishing. Wishing for wishes is like chopping off your foot to spite your face—totally stupid and without merit.” The little man waved his hand and the Keeper of Wishes withdrew.

“Boy, you nearly got us killed. Let’s move on to wish number three and hope you get it right. I’m too old for this crap—ask for a car, or a house, or a pay parking lot. I was ready. “I wish for the Organic Food Emporium.” I had been in love with the girl behind the counter for 10 years. Her name was Dali Na-Na. The Little Man said “Looks like you finally hit it. Be prepared.” He tucked himself in his silver ball and took off. The “be prepared” made me nervous.

I walked into the store and Dali Na-Na jumped over the counter. She was licking my face and wagging her butt. It was like she was channeling Moobert. I decided then and there that I would accept her behavior that I knew it was instigated by the Little Man.

That night, the three of us sat in the living room by the fire. I read my newspaper while the two of them sat at my feet. When it came time to go to bed, Moobert stayed downstairs playing the role of watch dog. Dali Na-Na and I went upstairs. I was looking forward to making love to her. When we got into bed she said “I am your best friend, I will be faithful until the end of time. You can always count on me.” These would become our marriage vows. The promises are so much more meaningful than sex—at least that’s what I told myself.

I could hear the Little Man laughing downstairs and playing with Moobert. I don’t know why he did it. I’ll never know why he did it. I’m still not sure what he did.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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