Stanley and the Magic Lamp (2 page)

“Actually, Prince Haraz, you’re here by accident,” Stanley said. “I
didn’t even know that pot was a lamp. Was it the rubbing? Those puffs of smoke, I mean, that turned into you?”

“Were you scared?” The genie laughed. “Just a few puffs, I thought, and I’ll
whoooosh
up the spout.”

“Scaring
me
wasn’t fair,” said Arthur, staying under the bed. “I just live in this room because Stanley’s my brother. It’s his lamp, and he’s the one who rubbed it.”

“Then he’s the one I grant wishes for,” said Prince Haraz. “Too bad for you.”

“I don’t care,” said Arthur, but he did.

“Can I wish for anything?” Stanley asked. “Anything at all?”

“Not if it’s cruel or evil, or really nasty,” said Prince Haraz. “I’m a lamp genie, you see, and we’re the good kind. Not like those big jar genies. They’re stinkers.”

“Wish for something, Stanley.” Arthur sounded suspicious. “Test him out.”

“I’ll be right back,” Stanley said, and went into the living room.

“Hey!” he said to Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop. “Guess what?”

“Hay is for horses, Stanley, not people,” Mr. Lambchop said from behind his newspaper. “Try to remember that.”

“Excuse me,” Stanley said. “But you’ll never guess—”

“My guess is that you and Arthur have not yet finished your homework,” said Mrs. Lambchop, looking up from her mending.

“We were doing it,” said Stanley, talking very fast, “but I have this
pot that turned out to be a lamp, and when I rubbed it, smoke came out, and then a genie, and he says I can wish for things, only I thought I should ask you first. Arthur got scared, so he’s hiding under the bed.”

Mr. Lambchop chuckled. “When your studying is done, my boy,” he said. “But no treasure chests full of gold and diamonds, please. Think of the taxes we would pay!”

“There is your answer, Stanley,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “Now back to work, please.”

“Okay, then,” said Stanley, going out.

Mrs. Lambchop laughed. “Treasure chests, indeed! Taxes! George, you are very amusing.”

Behind his newspaper, Mr. Lambchop smiled again. “Thank you, my dear,” he said.

“I told them, but they didn’t believe me,” Stanley said, back in the bedroom.

“Of course they didn’t.” Arthur was still under the bed. “Who’d believe a whole person could puff out of a pot?”

“It’s not a
pot
,” said Prince Haraz.
“Now please come out. I apologize for the puffs.”

Arthur crawled from under the bed. “No more scary stuff?”

“I promise,” the genie said, and they shook hands.

Arthur could hardly wait now. “Stanley! Try a wish!”

“We can’t,” Stanley said. “Not till our homework is done.”

“What’s homework?” asked Prince Haraz.

The brothers stared at him, amazed, and then Stanley explained. The genie shook his head.

“
After
schooltime, when you could
be having fun?” he said. “Where I come from, we just let Askit Baskets do the work.”

“Well, whatever
they
are, I wish I had one,” said Stanley, forgetting he was not supposed to wish.

Prince Haraz laughed. “Oh? Look behind you.”

Turning, Stanley and Arthur saw a large straw basket, about the size of a beach ball and decorated with red and green zigzag stripes, floating in the air above the desk.

“Yipes!” said Arthur. “More scary stuff!”

“Don’t be silly,” said the genie. “It’s
a perfectly ordinary Askit Basket. Whatever you want to know, Stanley, just ask it.”

Feeling rather foolish, Stanley leaned forward and spoke to the basket. “I, uh … that is … uh … Can I have the answers for my math homework? It’s the problems on page twenty of my book.”

The basket made a steady
huuuummmm
sound, and then a man’s voice rose from it, deep and rich like a TV announcer’s.

“Thank you for calling Askit Basket,” it said. “We’re sorry, but all our Answer Genies are busy at this time. Your questions will be answered by the first available personnel. While you wait, enjoy a
selection by the Genie-ettes.”

Stanley stared at the Askit Basket. Music was coming out of it now, the sort of soft, faraway music he had heard in the elevators of big office buildings.

Prince Haraz shrugged. “What can you do? It’s a very popular service.”

There was a
click
and the music stopped. Now a female voice, full of bouncy good cheer,
came from the basket. “Hi! This is Shireen! Thanks a whole bunch for waiting, and I would like at this time to give you your answers. The first answer is: 5 pears, 6 apples, 8 bananas. The second answer is: Tom is 4 years old, Tim is 7, Ted is 11. The third—”

“Wait!” Stanley shouted. “I can’t remember all this!”

“A written record, created especially for your convenience, is in the basket, sir,” said the cheery voice. “Thanks for calling Askit Basket, and have a real nice day!”

Lifting the lid of the basket, Stanley saw a sheet of paper with all his answers on it. “Oh, good!” he said. “Thank you. Can my brother talk now, please?”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Hello, Shireen,” he said. “This is Arthur Lambchop speaking. For English, I’m supposed to write about ‘What I Want to Be.’”

“Certainly, Mr. Lambchop,” said
the basket. “Just a teeny moment now, to make sure the handwriting—There! All done!”

Arthur opened the basket and found a sheet of lined paper covered with his own handwriting. He read it aloud.

Arthur smiled. “That’s fine!” he said. “Just what I wanted to say, Shireen.”

“Good,” said the basket. “‘Bye now! Have a super day!”

The brothers called good-bye, and Prince Haraz plucked the basket out of the air and set it on the desk by his lamp.

“There! Homework’s done,” he said. “That was a very ordinary sort of wish, Stanley. Isn’t there anything special you’ve always wanted? Something exciting?”

Stanley knew right away what he wanted most. He had always loved animals; how exciting it would be to have his own zoo! But that would take up too much space, he thought. Just one animal then, a truly unusual pet. A lion? Yes! What fun it would be to walk down the street with a pet lion on a leash!

“I wish for a lion!” he said. “Real, but friendly.”

“Real, but friendly,” said the genie. “No problem.”

Stanley realized suddenly that a lion would scare people, and that an elephant would be even greater fun.

“An elephant, I mean!” he shouted. “Not a lion. An elephant!”

“What?” said Prince Haraz. “An eleph—? Oh, collibots! Look what you made me do!”

A most unusual head had formed in the air across the room, a head with an elephant’s trunk for a nose but with small, neat, lionlike ears. There was a lion’s mane behind the head, but then came an elephant’s
body and legs in a brownish-gold lion color, and finally a little gray elephant tail with a pretty gold ruff at the tip. All together, these parts made an animal about the size of a medium lion or a small elephant.

“My goodness!” said Stanley. “What’s that?”

“A Liophant.” Prince Haraz seemed annoyed. “It’s your fault, not mine.
You overlapped your wish.”

The Liophant opened his mouth wide, gave a half roar, half snort
Grrowll-HONK!
that made them all jump, then sat back on his hind legs and went
pant-pant
like a puppy, looking quite nice.

“Well, we got the friendly part right,” said the genie. “The young ones mostly are.”

Stanley patted him, and Arthur tickled behind the neat little ears. The Liophant licked their hands and Stanley was not at all sorry that he had mixed up his wish.

Just then, a knock sounded on the
bedroom door, and Mrs. Lambchop’s voice called out, “Homework done?”

“Come in,” said Stanley, not thinking, and the door opened.