Cloth in hand, Donnie cleaned every bottle and lamp. He spent his days at thrift stores, dusting the shelves of discarded bric-a-brac. Clerks nodded hello and left him alone. Born into an uneasy home, Donnie’s differentness increased the strain. His father looked for someone to blame, noticed his wife, and never came home. For decades, poverty and memory haunted Donnie and his mother. She worked, drank, and apologized. A fellow rider at the bus stop told Donnie how to solve all their problems. All he had to do was find a lamp or bottle with a genie inside who granted wishes.