Be a Genie in Six Easy Steps (13 page)

“H
ey, Jess! Over here!” Colette called when Jess walked into her classroom the next morning.

“Hi,” Jess said shyly.

Colette was sitting on a desk at the back with a group of friends. She got up and went over to Jess. “It was fun last night. You should come over and do your homework again sometime. I mean, if you want to…?”

“That would be great!” said Jess. “And we've got math together after homeroom, haven't we. Maybe we could sit together?”

Colette grinned and nodded. “Maybe we could.”

 

Jess had a much better day at school. She got to know Colette's two best friends, Jodie and Natasha, and found they weren't as clonelike as she'd first thought. Natasha had also moved to Moreways Meet fairly recently; she didn't know many people but she was really into clothes and music. Jodie had five brothers and sisters, so she and
Jess bonded as they moaned about how annoying siblings could be.

After school, Jess walked home with them.

“What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” Colette asked when they reached Jess's house.

“Yeah, do you want to go shopping with us?” Jodie said. “We're meeting in town.”

“I wish I could,” Jess replied. “But I've got to go to this trivia thing. Mark, my stepdad, is on one of the teams.”

“Never mind,” Colette said. “Another time though?”

“Definitely,” Jess declared. “See you!”

Just so long as you don't see
me
doing genie magic
, she thought. Milly and Jason had told her and Michael about Mr. Foxtrot, and they'd all agreed he seemed the perfect subject to try to trick. They had decided to take the lamp around to his house first thing on Saturday morning.

Jess walked into the house and found her mum in the kitchen.

“You look like you've had a good day,” Ann said.

“Yeah,” said Jess with a happy sigh. “I have, for a change.” She looked around. The house was very quiet. “Where are the others?”

“Milly's gone to see her new friend's pony, Michael's signed up for an after-school karate class, and Jason's at computer club,” Ann answered. “It's great that you all
seem to be settling in at last.”

As Jess headed up to her room she thought about what her mum had said.
Were
they all settling in? Jason seemed more confident in this school than his old one. Michael and Milly had made friends from the start and were joining clubs and finding things to do.

And now maybe I've got friends, too
, Jess thought.

So, do I still want to go back to London?

She hesitated.

Yes
, she told herself firmly.
I do
.

 

Jess was just finishing her math homework when Milly bounced in from riding.

“Oh, Jess, I've had the best time!” Milly's grin was so big it almost split her face in two. “Emily and I were taking turns to ride Blaze, her pony; then this friend of Emily's mum called Chris saw us and asked me if I'd like to ride
her
pony. He's called Pepper and Chris's daughters are too big for him now but she doesn't want to sell him because she's had him since he was a foal—”

“Whoa, information overload!” said Jess with a smile.

“Anyway, I
did
ride Pepper!” Milly went on. “Emily and I went for a ride in the woods together. It was so cool! Chris asked me if I'd like to ride him again tomorrow. I had to say no 'cause we're doing genie stuff but I really
hope she asks me another time….”

“I'm sure she will,” Jess said.

“It's been funny having a day without magic,” Milly went on.

Jess nodded. “Yeah.” She felt almost guilty when she realized she'd actually enjoyed it. She'd imagined that training to be a genie was going to be great fun, but after all the things that had happened she was beginning to wonder.

Magic seems to bring us nothing but trouble
, she reflected with a sigh.

“I can't wait to get started on the genie book again tomorrow,” Milly burbled on as she started to get changed. “Mr. Foxtrot's horrible. I bet we trick him really brilliantly. This is going to be fun!”

Jess chewed the end of her pen anxiously. She really hoped Milly was right.

 

As the sun rose the next morning, Jess, Michael, Jason, and Milly hurried to Sheerstock Avenue, where Arthur Foxtrot lived.

His house, number eleven, had a blue front door with a polished brass handle. In front of the house was a small, neat garden—a square of grass surrounded by three regimented rows of purple, yellow, and white pansies.

“Okay, here goes,” Jess said, taking the lamp out of her bag.

“Ready to get tricking, Jase?” asked Michael, his dark hair sticking up wildly.

Jason nodded. “I think so.” He had a few ideas but it all depended on what Mr. Foxtrot was going to wish for—and he knew he wouldn't have long before he had to grant the wish one way or another.

“Hang on,” said Michael. “I've just thought of something! When Foxtrot rubs the lamp, Jase will be in his power like I was in Ollie's—so how will we get Foxtrot to say the ‘Genie be free' bit?”

Jason stared at him. “I hadn't thought of that!”

There was a moment's silence.

“I've got an idea,” said Jess slowly. “Get into the lamp, Jason.”

Jason took a deep breath. “Genie me!” he whispered, and vanished down the spout.

Milly and Michael watched expectantly as Jess rubbed the well-worn brass. Jason whooshed back out in genie form.

“Now I'm the wish-maker,” Jess declared. “And my wish is that you go back inside the lamp and grant a
single
wish for Mr. Arthur Foxtrot! Then you will be back under my control.”

Jason grinned. “Your wish is my command!” He shrank and spiraled back up the brass spout.

“Impressive, Jess,” said Michael, his bleary eyes full of admiration. “I mean—it's not even six thirty in the morning! That's totally devious!”

“I think ‘in-genie-ous' is the word you're looking for!” Jess replied with a grin.

She and Michael watched from the wall as Milly placed the lamp on the front doorstep, rang the brass doorbell, and then turned and raced back down the drive. Michael and Jess ran away too. They all hid behind a parked car farther down the street.

“The door's opening,” Jess hissed.

“This is the big one,” said Michael nervously. “If Jase messes this up, we can forget about being genies, going back to London—all of it!”

 

Inside the lamp, Jason heard the click of the front door—quickly followed by Mr. Foxtrot's gruff voice. “Yes? Who's there?”

Suddenly the lamp was kicked. It fell sideways with a loud clatter and Jason cannoned into the wall. “Ow!” he muttered. Then he tensed in excitement as he felt the lamp being lifted up into the air. This could be it! The moment that he became a genie ready to grant Mr. Foxtrot's wish. But not
just any genie—a genie who was up for playing tricks.

Rub the lamp
, he willed Foxtrot.
Go on, rub it!

“What on earth is this doing here?” Mr. Foxtrot muttered. “Dusty old thing.”

The next second, Jason felt a familiar warm swirling sensation, as if the lamp was being polished.

Whoosh!

Jason only just had time to picture his genie disguise before he shot out of the lamp and landed in the garden directly in front of Mr. Foxtrot.

“What the…!” Mr. Foxtrot exclaimed. He dropped the lamp and staggered back.

Jason quickly checked to make sure the street was still deserted, then folded his arms. “I am a genie,” he boomed in his loud mystical voice, enjoying the look of utter shock on Mr. Foxtrot's snooty face. “Your wish is my command!”

“But…but…” Mr. Foxtrot was turning paler by the moment.

Jason uncrossed his arms. “I am a genie,” he repeated, lowering his voice. “I can grant a wish for you if you'd like. What
is
your wish?”

Suddenly, Mr. Foxtrot's face cleared. “Ahh…Of course! This is a
dream
,” he said in a jovial tone. “Well, now, Genie, if you
are
here to grant my wish, then I'd better be quick before I wake up, hadn't I?” A crafty look
spread over his face. “All right, here it is. I wish that
I
could answer every question at the Trivia Team Challenge today. Every single one!”

Jason's thoughts raced. So,
that
was the wish—now how could he twist it? An idea sprang into his mind, and he clapped his hands together….

“Your wish is granted!” he exclaimed, grinning as he imagined the way the wish would turn out. “Now, put the lamp down, go back inside, and go to bed!”

“Go to bed?” Mr. Foxtrot frowned. “I must say, I'm not entirely convinced I'm even asleep. This is the most remarkably real dream I've ever had.”

“Maybe so,” said Jason with a sly smile. “But if it
wasn't
a dream, how else could I do
this?

And in a blast of green smoke, he swooshed back into the lamp.

Mr. Foxtrot cried out and dropped the lamp with a clatter. “Note to self,” he muttered. “No more strong cheese late at night. Not ever.” Then he swayed back inside and shut the door with a bang.

Milly, Jess, and Michael burst out from their hiding place and swapped elated looks as they hurried toward Mr. Foxtrot's doorstep.

Jess snatched up the lamp. “Genie be free!” she whispered.

The next second, Jason was standing there, grinning, dressed in his normal clothes again.

“Good work, mate!” Michael slapped him on the back as he steered him down the drive.

“Are you okay, Jase?” Milly asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Jason's eyes gleamed mischievously. “But Mr. Foxtrot's not going to be!”

“Why?” Jess demanded.

“Yeah, how did you twist his wish?” Michael asked.

“Aha!” Jason tapped his nose. “Not telling. You can all just wait and see!”

And no matter how much they badgered him on the way home, he wouldn't say a single word more.

 

When they got back, they sneaked in through the back door. The house was still quiet.

“Doesn't sound like Mum and Mark are up yet,” Jess said quietly. “Let's go and tell Skribble how we've got on.”

“I guess we may as well,” Michael agreed. “Seeing as Jason won't talk to us, maybe the worm will!”

“Skribble never did say he was sorry after snapping at me,” said Milly sadly. “And last night he didn't come out when I tried to say good night.”

“Let's see if our news makes him less grumpy,” Jess
suggested, leading the way upstairs and into the girls' bedroom.

“All right, Worm, you talking to us today?” Michael pulled out the book from Milly's pink pillowcase. “It's bright and early, and we've been sorting stuff for Step Five.”

“So far so good,” said Jason brightly as Michael started turning through the pages. “I hope!”

They waited for the usual muffled moans or a barrage of abuse. But the book stayed silent. Michael flicked through to the back cover without finding Skribble, and started flicking backward through the pages again.

“Come on, Skribble,” said Jess, “where are you hiding?”

“He's not here,” Michael announced, reaching the front of the book.

“Don't muck around,” said Jason. “He's
got
to be.”

“Well, he's not.” Michael was turning the pages more urgently now. “See? No worm.”

Jess snatched the handbook off him and shook it upside down. “Skribble, where are you?”

Nothing.

“He's gone,” whispered Milly. “He's really
gone
!”

T
he four children stared at the empty book. Suddenly Michael hit his forehead. “What are we doing? We're being stupid. We can easily find him!”

“We can?” Jess said in surprise.

“Of course! We've got our own guaranteed Skribble detector, you dummies—right here!” Michael held up the lamp. “We'll just
wish
to find him!”

“I'll be genie.” Jess grabbed the lamp. “Genie me!”

She whooshed away and quickly pictured herself in her glam-chic genie outfit as Milly rubbed the lamp and summoned her back into the human world.

“I wish that Skribble was here right now,” declared Milly.

Glittery outfit and tiara perfectly in place, Jess tried bringing her hands together—but they just made an ordinary, quiet clap. “Nothing's happening,” she said in confusion.

“I'll try again,” said Milly. “I wish that we could find
Skribble…um, please?”

But Jess just stood there. “It's no good!” she said.

Jason gasped. “Maybe the lamp's broken?”

“Quick, Mil,” said Michael, “wish for something else.”

“I wish…” Milly shrugged. “I wish I had a chocolate banana in my right hand!”

Jess clapped. “From dust I conjure it!”

And as the last booming word left her mouth, a chocolate banana duly appeared in Milly's hand.

“The magic
must
be working!” Michael took the banana and bit into it moodily. “So why can't we use it to find Skribble?”

“I don't know. Guess we'll just have to use our eyes instead,” said Jess. “He's so small, he can't have gone far. Milly, you and I can search up here. Michael, you and Jason look down in the den. He might have crawled out when we were last there.”

“Poor Skribble,” murmured Milly, tears welling in her eyes. “I should have looked for him sooner! If anything's happened to him—”

“Don't think that way, sis,” said Michael softly. “We'll find him. Operation Worm Hunt has begun!”

 

By eleven o'clock that morning, after hours of frantic rummaging all about the house, the search parties
regrouped on the landing.

“We've looked everywhere,” said Michael. Scowling, he kicked one of Milly's big furry rabbit slippers back into her bedroom. “Nothing.”

Just then, Mark bounded up the stairs. “Hi, guys. Sorry to interrupt your game, but Jason, can I borrow you for some last-minute studying?”

“It's
not
a game,” cried Milly in frustration. “It's real, and nobody knows and it's just not fair!” She flew into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Mark frowned and looked at Michael. “Everything all right?”

“Fine,” said Jason, forcing a bright smile. “And of course I'll help. How are you feeling—confident?”

“Nervous!” Mark admitted, ushering Jason down the stairs. “But those ‘improve your memory' techniques you taught me have really helped—I'm trying to think of each fact as a landmark on a journey that I take in my head. Thing is, it's a really bizarre journey….”

“Tell us about it.” Jess sighed as her stepdad and brother moved out of earshot.

Suddenly there was a short, sharp shriek from Milly in the bedroom. Jess and Michael stared at each other for a split second and then raced to the door. But before they could reach it, Milly threw it open, looking wide-eyed.

“What's happened?” Michael demanded.

“I've found him,” whispered Milly. “He must have been hiding in my slipper and when you kicked it, he fell out. But…but…”

She pointed wordlessly into the room. Michael and Jess ran inside.

There was the big, furry rabbit slipper, lying upside down. And there was Skribble on the floor beside it.

The bookworm had turned as gray as clay. His little eyes were shut, and his body was lying completely still.

Michael crouched down and held a finger in front of Skribble's tiny line of a mouth.

“Oh, no…” Jess swallowed hard. “Has he…is he…?”

“It's okay. He's still alive.” Michael scooped Skribble up in both hands. “I caught the tiniest breath on my finger when I held it in front of his mouth.”

“He looks really sick,” Milly fretted, stroking the bookworm gently. “Oh, Skribble! Poor, lovely, clever Skribble, we've been so worried about you!”

Skribble's little eyes blinked open. “Milly?” he gasped feebly. “Is that you?”

“I'm here.” Milly looked around at Jess. “His skin's so cold! Feel it!”

“We need to keep him warm and comfortable,” said
Jess. “Let's put him back in the book.”

“No!” Skribble gasped. “No, please!”

Jess, Michael, and Milly exchanged confused looks.

“Not the book!” Skribble croaked. “No!”

“Okay. Try to take it easy….” Milly hated to see him so distressed. She dived down and scrabbled about under her bed, coming back with a thick scrunchie for tying back her hair. She laid the little fabric ring on her pillow. “Put him down there instead, Michael.”

Michael did so. Skribble wrapped his little body around the soft scrunchie and clung there.

“What's good for a shock?” Michael wondered. “I know! Jess, your mum's got some cooking sherry in the kitchen!”

Jess gave him a stern look. “He needs a hot, sweet cup of tea.”

“I'll go and get some!” Milly declared. She fled out of the room.

Jess looked at Skribble, lying so still and quiet. “It seems so long since he first turned up,” she said in a hushed voice. “It's hard to believe it's been barely a week.”

“Dumb worm gets under your skin.” Michael sighed. “Doesn't look too clever now, does he?”

Skribble opened one eye. “I am still
extremely
clever,” he said faintly, “thank you very much.”

Jess half smiled. “Oh, Skribble, we've been so worried about you. We tried to find you using magic, but it didn't work.”

Skribble blinked weakly. “Magic cannot affect other magical beings while they are in the human world. It is one of the oldest genie laws, to stop rival genies from harming one another.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Did that used to happen, then?”

“Oh, yes.” Skribble's eyelids flickered shut. “Genies very rarely see eye to eye. And disputes could swiftly get out of hand. So, ages past, a law was decreed that any dispute must be settled properly in the Genie Realm….”

Milly came back—a mug of tea in one hand and a dusty bottle of cooking sherry in the other. Putting the drinks on the floor, she produced a teaspoon from her pocket and held out a little of the tea. Skribble opened his eyes, sniffed it, then turned his head away.

“Try mixing it with the cooking sherry,” suggested Michael. He opened the bottle and poured a drop onto the spoon. This time, Skribble drank a little, and licked his tiny lips.

“Maybe we
should
put him back in the book,” Jess suggested.

“No!” Skribble said hoarsely. “The book has turned
against me. It has thrown me out.”

“Was it because you ate that whole page?” Milly asked.

“Yes.” Skribble nodded. “And not just any old page…A page awash with active magic…new words and pictures being brought into being.” He angled his head toward the teaspoon, and Milly let him drink a little more. “The magic I ate was too much for this small, puny body to cope with.” Skribble hiccuped. “The book could have helped me if it chose, but it didn't…. Oh, if only I could change back…”

Jess frowned. “Change back? What do you mean?”

The bookworm ignored her. “You must complete the next step quickly,” he whispered. “It is very important.”

“But
why
is it so important?” Jess asked. “Skribble, I don't understand. Why do you want us to become genies so badly?”

But Skribble's eyes had closed once more.

Milly looked at the handbook. “Please, Book,” she said, stroking its cover. “Please help us to help Skribble. You've been together such a long time…maybe too long for him to live without you. I expect you thought you had to teach Skribble a lesson—but please, won't you help him now? Otherwise, he might…well…”

The book shook a little; then its cover swung open. Milly
gasped and pulled her hand back. The front page started slowly to turn. As Michael, Jess, and Milly watched, a narrow strip of paper started to tear itself away from the top edge, curling over like a wood shaving until it fluttered free of the book and fell to the duvet.

Then the book snapped shut again.

Cautiously, Milly picked up the yellowed curl of paper and stretched it between her fingers. “It's a blanket!” she breathed. “The book's given us a bookworm's blanket!”

“Let's wrap him up in it, then,” said Jess.

Milly sat down on the bed beside Skribble and tenderly covered him with the curl of paper. Skribble crept down inside it and took a deep, trembling breath. Milly stroked the back of his neck with one finger. “There, now, Skribble. You'll be all right,” she whispered.

After a few moments, Jess frowned. “Is it my imagination, or is he starting to look a little more like his old self?”

“I think he is.” Milly gasped. “Look, the paper's changing!”

Jess saw that she was right. The yellow curl was darkening to a deep brown, and Skribble was growing pinker. “It must be drawing out all that active magic he ate,” she realized.

“He's going to get better,” said Milly with delight. “I
just know he is! Come on. We should leave him alone now to rest properly.”

Jess screwed the top back on the cooking sherry. “I'll put this back before anyone realizes it's gone.”

“And I'll get Jason away from Dad and tell him the good news,” said Michael. “See you guys down there.”

Once Jess and Michael had gone, Milly couldn't resist one last peep at Skribble. “Why did you choose to hide in my slipper?” she whispered, crouching beside the bed.

“Because it was soft and warm,” said Skribble sleepily. “And because it was yours.”

Milly smiled and pulled the duvet over him, feeling warm and tingly from top to toe. She heard the worm mumbling in his sleep: “I'm sorry, so very sorry, your worships…. I'll change for the better! Truly I will…”

She felt funny eavesdropping, so she turned to go. But then she noticed the book was lying open again, back at the end of Step Four. One phrase leaped out at her:

Unworthy are they who would seek to use the spirit and strife of others to achieve their own ends!

Milly frowned and closed the book again. Then, a little uneasily, she hurried from the room.

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