In the heart of a wood which lost its name long ago, is a place where a seeker of stories may go. If you've arrived in a story's your desire, come, take a seat, for what you require is a tale from the second storytime. Hello and welcome. I am the second storyteller, and today I have been anticipating your arrival. In fact, I had just the story in mind for today, and have cleverly prepared it ahead of time. It's what I would say if only I could remember where I put the bloomin' thing.
I swear, my bedside table tends to accumulate so many books that might start making the library jealous. Aha, there it is. Ah, brilliant. I had the feeling I'd find it all the way up here, and that's one last day where I need to confront my poor organizational skills. Oh. Seeing as we find ourselves up here anyway, let's say we go out on the balcony in the sun. Coincidentally, today's tale also has to do with missing things. So, let's have a seat, and read today's story, Boulun.
Matt and Henry each tossed a penny into the tiny stream. These were a necessary payment, as the boys were certain that a man eating troll lived under the wooden board which bridged the creek. But throwing pennies into the shallow, slow-moving water was an effective way to keep from being eaten. Despite a week of troll-related nightmares, and the subsequent lectures from their mothers on the non-existence of trolls, the boys refused to have their imaginations swayed.
What did adults know about trolls anyway? A trove of pennies had accumulated at the bottom of the creek, and Matt and Henry vowed that one day they would reclaim their lost treasure in what they were certain would be the greatest adventure of their lives. The boys crossed the bridge and made their way through the thick pine trees until they found themselves in an open field of grass.
They had discovered this place around a year ago, in the woods behind Henry's house, and it had served as their own secret space ever since. The field had been the site of many great battles staged by Matt and Henry, and the best their imagination had to offer. There had been the epic struggle of dinosaurs versus the mutant bat people, and of course the invasion of the giant mantis men, where the two eight-year-old boys had bravely fought side by side to defend their field.
It was a space where the boys' imaginations could roam freely, but on this particular day, it was the only place for a Matt to agree to tell Henry his secret. Okay, so now will you tell me what happened to your first balloon? Henry pleaded. On either side of Henry there floated a simple golden balloon on a white ribbon. They followed Henry obediently, wherever he walked, waiting for Henry to use the wishes they held.
Matt on the other hand had only one balloon, hanging in the air on his left side. Henry knew that this mat and Matt had used his wish, but Matt had refused to talk about it outside of the secret space. You know how Jim Shuss beat me up last week? Yeah? And you know how he's been out of school last week with chicken pox? Yeah? Wait, it isn't chicken pox? Nope, I used my wish to turn Jim Shuss into a zebra.
It seemed like an age before the boys laughter is subsided and Henry could speak coherently again. A zebra? That's awesome! Will he be a zebra forever? Nah, his parents will just take him to a wish-reverser. My mom and dad said that they have this drink you can take if someone makes a wish that turns you into something. They said there was a huge problem when they were kids, but then some guy used his wish to get a recipe for a drink that had reverse wishes like that.
Aw. It was hardly worth using a wish to turn Jim Shuss into a zebra if they can just turn him back. Sure, it was worth it, Matt exclaimed as he attempted and failed to do a handstand. He can beat me up all he likes, but he's too much of a weenie to use his balloon on me. Yeah, but didn't you get in trouble for using yours? Big time. You're supposed to get a big party for when you decide to make your wish, but since I used my wish to turn someone into a zebra, my mom and dad said no party.
And I can't tell anybody that I made that wish either. They said it would be bragging, and they don't want me to be proud of it. But you told me. Matt rolled his eyes. Well of course I told you. That's different. You're my best friend. But that's why I couldn't say anything at school. Mostly since I only have one balloon, everybody knows I made my wish. So if I started telling people what I did, it'd get back to my parents and I'd be grounded for the rest of my life.
It's bad enough being grounded for the whole month. The only reason I get to stay at your place tonight is because we'd already planned it. Mom didn't think it'd be fair to you. Henry glanced up at his own two balloons. The space on Matt's right side looked so odd without his other balloon hanging there. Too bad you used your wish. I don't know what I want to use mine for. I still have one balloon left. Henry shook his head. Yeah, one that you'll never use.
Everybody knows you can't use your second balloon. You'll disappear if you do. Your parents told you that too, huh? Well yeah, everybody knows that's what happens. That's just an urban legend. You ever see someone use their second balloon? Of course not. Who'd want to disappear like that? It's just a story parents tell their kids so they grow up to be responsible or something. But if they've made it up, how come your parents and my parents still have their second balloon?
Matt had to think about this before deciding on an answer. Well, they're grown-ups. They're boring. Their parents probably trick them the same way. If it's made up, then why don't you use your second balloon? Matt looked up at his single balloon apprehensively. Henry grinned, knowing he'd won the debate. See, even you're too chicken to try it. I am not, Matt shot back. I'm already in trouble for using my first balloon. Mum and dad will kill me if I use the other one.
Feeling victorious, Henry made clucking noises at his best friend. This was enough to provoke Matt. Fine, he grabbed a string of his remaining balloon. I wish I could fly. I don't want wings or anything. I just want to be able to fly whenever I want. The balloon burst, a bright light shining out of it, then vanished entirely. Matt stepped up into the air and floated casually. He grinned down at Henry triumphantly. See, I told you, and now I can fly. So what do you say to that?
But Henry didn't respond. His eyes were wide and unblinking. His mouth hung open a little, but not in the comical way. Matt had never seen a more horrified face in his life. What is it? What's wrong with Matt glimpsed at his own hands? They were slowly becoming transparent. Matt realized that all of him was vanishing as well. He landed on the ground and reached out to Henry, opening his mouth to scream. But Matt no longer had a voice with which to make sound.
Henry stood frozen in horror before Matt's hand could reach his best friend he was gone, like fog burning away under the gentle touch of the sun. When Matt and Henry failed to return to the house for dinner, Henry's parents searched the place where they knew the boys would be. They found Henry, pale and shaking, both of his hands wrapped tightly around the string of one of his own balloons. He repeated the words, I wish he'd come back, I wish he'd come back, in a voice so small and hoarse.
He'd been saying it for hours. But his balloon wouldn't pop. There was no golden light and no reversing Matt's wish. Jim Shust returned to the class the following week. What an interesting world we got to peek into. I wonder what I would wish for. Well, I suppose a lot of things spring to mind. Perhaps a smidgen of skill with cooking? Maybe a bookmark that reminds me to put it back in the book when I close it? Oh, or maybe a chocolate egg filled with an infinite number of smaller chocolate eggs?
Huh. It looks upstaring at me like that, I know what I said. I suppose the better question now really is what would I wish for that would mean vanishing into the unknown? Hmm. Well, for now, I really ought to go put the story back in its proper shelf. I swear, as time goes on it seems increasingly difficult to keep things in their proper place. Ah, but I'm rambling. Thank you for joining me today. Be well and carry today's story in your heart.
Today's tale has ended, but return once again to this place where you are considered a friend. Return to this tower in its mysterious dweller for more from the library of The Second Storyteller. Thank you for listening to The Second Storyteller. If you have a prompt for a story, please send it to thesecondstoryteller at gmail.com. If your prompt is selected, your name will be credited at the end of the episode. Today's prompt was Forbidden Wishes, submitted by Corbinic.
If you would like to help support the future of this podcast, please consider becoming a patron by going to patreon.com slash thesecondstoryteller. A donation as small as a dollar is greatly appreciated and helps keep us going. A donation of just $10 a month puts you on the list of current library card holders, and your name will be read at the end of the episode. The Second Storyteller podcast and the featured stories were written and created by Katie Chacon.
The role of the second storyteller is played by Charles Scott. Today's voice of the story was provided by Charles Scott. The voice of the intro and outro is Chris Camp, and you can find the fantastic games he's worked on at rix.itch.io. That's riks.itch.io. The music was written by Fintan, who can be found at garbagebag, all one word,.itch.io. The second storyteller will return next month with more magic, fun, and of course, a story to tell.