Alfred was a curious young boy. He loved going on adventures. He often escaped from the view of his mother, for she wore thick glasses and could not see well. Alfred laughed at the thought of being caught. He pictured himself staring into his mother’s eyes. Thick glasses. He chuckled. That was funny. So was the red thing in Percival Gavigan’s back lot. Curiosity washed over Alfred’s face when he would stare at the red thing, entranced. It did not move. Maybe it was a dog. But dogs move. It couldn’t be a dog. Perhaps a rabbit. No. Not a rabbit. Alfred had run out of guesses. You see, he was fascinated with dogs and rabbits. But never had he heard of one coloured red.
One day, Alfred decided to scurry away from his mother. She knew not, for she was engulfed in the Daily News. Alfred galloped over to Percival Gavigan’s yard. He was a crazy monkey boy, you know. Alfred approached the mysterious red thing. He placed his hand upon the object, still unsure of what it was. It was hard, yet welcoming. Alfred wasn’t sure how something could be both hard and welcoming, but it was. Alfred realized that he was touching a statue. What the statue depicted, he did not know. He poked it. It did not move. He talked to it. It did not respond. He licked it. Bleh. He jumped on it and slid right off.
Alfred saw Percival Gavigan emerge like a hermit from his home. Percival was a funny looking man, all short and whatnot, with a curly white mustache.
Alfred greeted Percival Gavigan, “Hullo, Percival Gavigan!”
Percival Gavigan responded, “Hullo, Alfred! What is it you’re doing there?”
“I’m trying to figure out what this is!” exclaimed Alfred.
“That,” said Percival Gavigan, “is a magic statue. Make a wish.”
Alfred made a wish. He then said “good day” to Percival Gavigan and went home. The next day, Alfred came back and made another wish at the statue. And the next day, and the next. Alfred’s wishes came true every day, for every day Alfred wished for the same thing – another wish.