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March was one of Dean’s favorite months because it was close to spring which was close to summer which was his favorite time of all because it meant no school and running rampant throughout the neighborhood with Benny and Cas.
For now, though, the sky was a grey overcast Dean didn’t find even the least bit sad or dreary, rather he found it quite comforting like the cool side of his pillow.
His best friend Cas walked in step beside him. They’d been best friends for more than a whole year now, ever since Valentine’s Day in Ms. Pratt’s class. Now their first-grade teacher was Mr. Fitzgerald, a gangly, thin man with an enormous smile and a sock puppet named Mr. Fizzles.
When Dean met up with Cas this morning, he’d been hoping his friend had forgotten St. Patrick’s Day and wasn’t wearing green so Dean could pinch him (Dean had dressed Sam all in green so he could not be pinched) but Cas was wearing a bright green t-shirt with a big four leaf clover on it. Dean just had a green baseball cap on that was too big because it used to be his dad’s.
There was a small wood behind Cas’s house they were currently exploring, just the two of them, no other kids or adults to be seen. Dean liked the fresh air, the outdoors, the quiet sound of Cas’s steps pattering alongside him.
“Dean, do you know any St. Patrick’s Day songs?” Cas asked.
Dean kicked a puffy white dandelion, sending the white seeds everywhere. “There aren’t St. Patrick’s Day songs.”
Cas furrowed his brow. “There are Christmas songs.”
“That’s like the only holiday with songs, Cas.”
“What about Happy Birthday?”
“Birthday’s aren’t holidays.”
Cas’s eyes got real wide. “They’re not?”
“Nope.” Dean shook his head.
“Oh.” Cas shuffled his light-up sneakers through the grass. “Have you ever seen a leprechaun, Dean?”
Dean shook his head. “Nope. Have you?”
“No.”
Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared straight ahead, bubbling with determination as he was overcome with a delightfully excellent albeit devious idea. “We should try’n trap one.”
Cas bumped into Dean as they walked, a jab with a knobbly elbow. “Why?”
“Because they can grant you three wishes.”
“Three whole wishes?” Cas gasped.
“Yup.” Dean nodded once and definitively. He’d learned amount leprechauns from his mother. They loved gold and pranks and being trapped so they could grant wishes.
Dean and Cas paused momentarily, waiting in a comfortable spring silence before Cas whispered, “What would you wish for Dean?” as if it were a fragile secret.
“You seen that remote control car that can do flips on TV?”
“Yes,” Cas said almost reverently.
“I’d wish for that,” came Dean’s certain response.
They walked a few more feet. The wind blew and chilled Dean around the collar of his denim jacket; he tugged up the collar.
“What else?” Cas asked, his searching blue eyes honed in on Dean. “You get three wishes. That means um…two more wishes.”
“Well, we’d have to share the wishes,” Dean said.
Cas nodded in agreement. “It was your idea to trap him – so you get two wishes. What’s your second wish?”
Dean pondered the question momentarily as he watched a lark flutter from the branch of one budding tree to another. His mother had loved birds. She’d built birdhouses and painted them lovingly using the same delicate hands which once checked Dean for fevers and wiped away his tears. He could still remember the touch of her like a faint whisper. “You think the leprechaun’s could do big wishes like…bringing people back from heaven?”
A frown crossed Cas’s face. “Hmm…I don’t know, Dean.”
Dean kicked his toe into the sparse grass, bringing up a small patch of soil that stuck to the white rubber tip of his sneaker. “Well, I’d have to try so my second wish would be that God would send mom back from heaven.”
Cas’s arm bumped into Dean’s again, less of a jab and more of graze. “That’s a really good wish.”
Dean thought so too, but he didn’t want to think about his mom too much. It always made him cry and, though Cas would never call him a girl or a sissy for crying, Dean didn’t want to feel the puffy sting of tears, not on a day as full of possibility as this one.
“So, what’s your wish?”
A blush bloomed across Cas’s cheeks. “It’s silly.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.”
“You might.” Cas looked almost hurt. Dean’s stomach flipped.
“I don’t make fun of you.”
Cas sighed. “You make fun of other kids.”
Dean stopped walking and Cas did too. They turned toward each other. Dean looked seriously at Cas. “Not you, Cas. You’re my best friend.”
“What about Benny?”
“He’s my best friend for like sports and hunters and monsters and stuff. You’re my best friend for like just being me.”
Cas smiled. “Oh. Okay, Dean.”
They started walking again.
“So what would ya wish for?”
Cas let out a long breath. “I’d wish um…I’d wish to holdyourhand.”
Dean furrowed his brow. “Why would you wish for that?”
“Told you you’d think it was dumb.” Cas wrapped his arms around himself. The air was a bit nippy, but Dean didn’t think it was that cold. Should he give Cas his coat – or maybe this wasn’t about being cold at all?
“It’s not dumb, Cas. It’s just you’re supposed to wish for something cool-“
Cas tilted his head and looked quizzically at Dean. He had face though, small and young, that seemed most at home while he was pondering. “I am?”
“Yep, like a football.”
“Okay,” Cas smiled, but it seemed small on his face, easily brushed away. “I’d wish for a football.”
Dean grinned. “Footballs are awesome.”
As they walked a few more steps, Dean threaded his fingers with Cas’s. Cas smiled brightly and looked over at Dean, who found himself smiling too as warmth and comfort filled him like hot chocolate.
Some wishes didn’t need a leprechaun to come true.