Нил Шустерман: The Eyes Of Kid Midas

Eventually they ran out of electronics and went on to furniture, then to clothing. When they ran out of advertisements, they began scouring household magazines for pictures that would spark their imaginations.

"Hey, Kevin, look at this!" Josh had dug up one of Mr. Midas's Playboys, which had always been kept hidden from Kevin. The very idea turned Kevin beet red, and he began to giggle. "No," said Kevin, "maybe not."

"Maybe later?"

"Yeah, maybe later."

The magazine remained in the living room all day, but neither of them dared to go near it.

By noon, Josh noticed that the temperature in the house had begun to drop, but he didn't say anything—he didn't think it meant much. Kevin, on the other hand, wouldn't have noticed if the sky were falling—his attention was elsewhere. Beneath it all, Kevin knew he had a headache again, but as long as the glasses stayed hot and he kept them active, every inch of his body and mind felt so tingly and electrified that he didn't care about how his head would feel when he stopped.

They rode their bikes down to the mall and went on a window-shopping spree, duplicating half the things they saw and wishing them back to Kevin's house, including their favorite games in the video arcade.

When they arrived back home, they had to climb in a side window because one of their home-theater systems was blocking the front door.

At last they took a break from the experiment. Kevin, drained and exhausted, took off the glasses and flopped onto his bed, but Josh, having been baptized into fantasyland, and still submerged in its rich, sweet waters, danced to the music that rocked the entire house as he made his way around the obstacle course in Kevin's room.

"Santa Claus better watch his butt!" said Josh. "The dude's got competition now!" Josh swung open the door to Kevin's closet, revealing a soft-drink machine, which, of course, didn't require money to operate. Josh got himself a Dr Pepper, leapt onto Kevin's desk, and twanged an awful chord on a star-spangled guitar, spilling soda foam all over.

"And it's all tax free!" said Josh. He jumped in the air, twanged the guitar, and came crashing down on a pinball machine that began to blink "tilt."

"I need some aspirin," said Kevin. "I need some Pepto-Bismol."

"If you feel sick, why don't you just wish it away?"

"I tried," said Kevin. "The glasses made me sick—they can't unmake me sick."

Josh slowed down and began to catch his breath from his whirlwind romance with greed. The house felt chilly. No—not just chilly, it felt cold, and Kevin—well, Kevin looked cold. He had wrapped himself in a blanket and was shivering slightly.

Kevin was ready to call it a day, and Josh would have agreed—until Josh turned his eyes just a few feet up and saw the poster hanging so innocently above Kevin's bed.

"One more thing," said Josh.

"I'm fried," said Kevin.

Josh smiled. "Too fried for the car of your dreams?"

Kevin sat up slowly. He thought about it, then hesitated. "Give me the glasses, and I'll do it," said Josh.

"No!" Kevin grabbed the glasses from his nightstand and put them on.

It was called the Lamborghini Countach, and it was the subject of most of Kevin's classroom doodles. Kevin, fighting exhaustion, raced down the stairs with Josh and into the garage.

"I never even thought I'd ever see a Lam-ber-geenie, and now I'm going to have one," said Kevin.

Josh shook his head. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's not Lam-ber-geenie, it's Lamborghini! You have to think Italian!"

The garage was empty except for the ancient junk against the wall and two oil spots where his parents' cars had been. Kevin had turned the stereo off on the way through the living room, so the only sound came from the heater in the corner of the garage. It hummed, showing traces of flames as it tried unsuccessfully to warm the unseasonably cold house.

"We'll get two of them," said Josh. "Okay?"

"One for you and one for me, right?"

"Right."

"Okay."

Kevin took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and said the words, which echoed in the empty garage.

"Two red Lam-ber-geenies."

"Lamborghinis!"

"Yeah, yeah."

The colors before Kevin's eyes began to swirl, and he felt as though his whole brain was filtering out through the dark glass.

From where Josh stood, the sight of the glasses at work was just as remarkable, and although he had seen it before, each time was better than the last. Josh watched as the glasses got so dark that they looked like portals into another universe. Deep within that universe, Josh saw Kevin's eye burning like blue flames. From this side of the glasses, Kevin's mind seemed like something impossibly huge, and almost as a reflex, Josh grabbed tightly onto a bicycle hook in the wall for fear of being sucked right in through the glasses. Blinding colors pulsed out from the glasses, and Josh had to shield his eyes.

When he looked again, there were two Lamborghinis just sitting in the garage as if they had no better place to be.

Josh let go of the hook, leapt into the window of the nearest one, and sank into the seat. Keys were in the ignition, and he wished with all his heart that he knew how to drive.

Kevin wasn't as quick to get into his car. As his trembling hand removed the red-hot glasses, he could feel his heart pulsing in the tiny veins in his eyeballs and knew his eyes must have been bloodshot beyond belief. His head swam and ached as if someone had reached inside and pulled the two cars right out of his skull. He felt very, very cold.

Kevin got into his car and sat down, feeling the smooth leather against his aching body. He looked toward Josh, and they both noticed something at the same time. It was so cold in the garage that their breath came out in puffs of steam.

Kevin looked around, to find everything in the garage frozen. An icicle dripped from the leaky spigot, and the puddle beneath it was a sheet of ice. Even the heater had been snuffed out. It must have been twenty degrees in that garage!

It's a side effect, thought Kevin. The glasses needed lots of energy to work, and they stole energy wherever they could find it. Heat, light, fire. The glasses just sucked the heat right out of the air!

Kevin and Josh sat in the freezing garage, playing behind the wheels of their twin Lamborghinis for a while, until Josh finally turned to Kevin.

"So now what?"

Amazingly enough, Kevin couldn't answer him. Now they had everything. They had wished up everything their hearts desired, from the smallest toy to the largest. The house was piled to the ceiling with things.

Having played the video games, listened to the stereos, watched the home theaters, tried the candy machines, tasted all the food, worn all the clothes, sat on all the couches, and played in both the cars—after all that—they were finally bored. So now what? . . . So now what?

Kevin racked his aching brain for something else that he wanted but couldn't find it. The world of goods and services had nothing more to offer.

And then a thought occurred to Kevin that put everything into a slightly different perspective . . .

"What am I going to tell my parents?"

Josh looked up from his dashboard. "Yeah," he said, "what are you going to tell your parents about all this stuff?"

Kevin looked down at his new gold Rolex watch. It was five fifteen, and his mom, who was never on time going to work but always on time getting back, picked up Teri from field hockey practice promptly at five. They were due home any second.

Back in the house, Muffy cowered behind a jukebox. The place was a disaster area, as if someone had crammed a mansion into a three-bedroom home. The obvious excuses passed quickly through Kevin's mind as he felt panic take hold.