Stanley and the Magic Lamp (4 page)

Tom McRude shook his fist. “I’ll bet you can’t do that again!”

Mr. Lambchop served three more balls, each even faster than the first one, and as perfectly placed. Tom McRude could not even touch them, though the last one bounced up into his nose.

Then Mr. Lambchop rallied with him, gliding swiftly about the court and returning every shot with ease. With powerful forehands, he made Tom McRude run from corner to corner; with little drop shots, he drew
the champion up to the net, then lobbed high shots to send him racing back again. Nobody has ever played such great tennis as Mr. Lambchop played that day.

Tom McRude was soon too tired, and too angry, to continue. He threw down his racket and jumped on it.

“You’re just lucky!” he yelled. “Besides, I have a cold! And the sun was in my eyes the whole time!” Pushing his way through the crowd, he ran out of the park.

There was tremendous cheering for Mr. Lambchop, who just smiled modestly and waved his racket in
a friendly way. Then he came over to where the other Lambchops and Prince Haraz were standing with the TV-news director.

“You’re really
good
,” the director said. “Frankly, you looked terrible when you first went out there.”

“It takes me a while to get warmed up,” Mr. Lambchop said, and led his family away.

Leaving the park, Mrs. Lambchop signed many more autographs, and a reporter from
Famous Faces
magazine was waiting to interview her at home.

“You’ll be on the cover of our next
issue,” said the reporter. “How much do you weigh? Will there be a movie about your life? Who gave you your first kiss?”

“None of your business!” said Mr. Lambchop, and the reporter went away.

They watched the evening news on television, hoping Mr. Lambchop’s tennis would be shown, but only Mrs. Lambchop appeared, with Tom McRude in the background. “The celebrated Harriet Lambchop was in the park today,” said the newscaster, after which came a close-up of Mrs. Lambchop saying, “I’m glad my fans
are having such a lovely day,” and that was that.

Dinner was interrupted several times by phone calls for Mrs. Lambchop from newspaper and television people. The calls bothered Mr. Lambchop, but not the Liophant, who ate four pork chops, a jar of peanut butter, a quart of potato salad, and the rubber mat from under his dish.

“I’m not complaining,” said Arthur, complaining, “but it’s not fair. Some people have Liophants, or get famous. I want to be President, or as strong as Mighty Man, but all I got was one minute with an Askit Basket we can’t even use anymore.”

It was after dinner, and the brothers were in their bedroom with Prince Haraz, all in pajamas.

“It’s not my fault, Arthur.” The genie looked hurt. “I just follow orders. Rub, I appear. Wish, I grant. That’s it.”

Stanley felt sorry for his brother. “I don’t think you should be President, Arthur,” he said. “But I’ll wish for you to be the strongest man in the world. I wish it, Prince Haraz!”

“Oh, good!” said Arthur.

He waited, but nothing happened. “Darn! It didn’t work!” Disappointed, he punched his left hand with his right fist.

“Owwww!” Jumping up and down, Arthur flapped his hand to relieve the pain.

“When you’re the strongest man in the world,” said Prince Haraz, “you have to be careful what you hit.”

“But I still feel like me,” Arthur said. Testing himself, he took hold of the big desk with one hand and lifted it easily above his head.

Stanley’s mouth flew open, and so did the desk drawers.

Pencils, marbles, and paper clips rained down onto the floor.

“Ooops!” said Arthur.

“This is ridiculous,” said Prince Haraz, helping him tidy up. “The strongest man in the world, in a bedroom picking up desks! Out having adventures, that’s where you should be.”

“We can’t now,” Arthur said. “It’s almost bedtime.”

Stanley had an idea. “There’d be time if we could fly! Can’t we all fly somewhere?”

“I’ve always been able to,” said the genie. “For you two, it’ll take wishing.”

“I wish!” shouted Stanley. “Flying! Arthur and me both!”

For a moment the brothers held
their breath, expecting to be swept up into the air. Then Arthur tried small flapping movements with his elbows.

“Oh, collibots!” said the genie. “Not like that. Just
think
of flying, and where you want to go.”

It worked.

Stanley and Arthur found themselves suddenly a few feet off the floor, face down and quite comfortable, and however they wished to go, up or down, forward or back, was how they went. It was like swimming in soft, invisible water, but without the effort of swimming.
Prince Haraz gave advice as the brothers glided happily about the room: “Point your toes…. Heads up! … Good, very good…. Yes, I think you’re ready now!”

He opened a window and leaned out. “Hmmm…. This breeze may be coolish higher up. We’d better wear something extra.”

Stanley and Arthur put on bathrobes and gloves, and the genie chose a red parka and a dragon-face ski mask. Then he said, “Away we go!” and the brothers floated through the window after him, out into the night.

Up! Up! UP! they went, leveling off now and then to practice speeding, but mostly rising steadily higher. Stanley and Arthur flew side by side, gaining confidence from each other, and the genie kept an eye on them from behind.

It was a beautiful night. The sky above them was full of stars. Below them the lights of the city twinkled as brightly as the stars. The brothers’ white bathrobes and the genie’s red parka shone in the moonlight.

They flew above the big park, where an orchestra was giving a concert. Music floated up to them: the clear,
sweet tones of flutes and violins and trumpets; the deep, strong notes of cymbals and drums.

“Oh, I’m enjoying this!” Prince Haraz called through his dragon mask. “So different from inside that lamp!”

The three fliers joined hands and circled the blaze of light from where the orchestra sat. It was like ice-skating to music at a rink, but much more fun.

In the distance, the wing lights of a big airplane blinked across the sky.

“Let’s chase it!” Stanley shouted.

Prince Haraz laughed. “Go on! I’ll catch up!”

Whoooosh! Whoooosh!
Holding their arms by their sides, Stanley and Arthur flashed like rockets across the sky, their bathrobes flapping like the sails of a boat. The big airplane was fast, but the brothers were faster. Catching up, they flew around and around it, looking through the windows at the passengers reading and eating from tiny trays.

Arthur saw a little girl with a comic book. Zooming close to her window, he stretched his neck, trying to read over her shoulder. The little girl looked up and saw him. Being mean, she held the comic book down where he couldn’t see it, and stuck out her tongue. Arthur stuck his tongue out at her, and the little girl scowled and pulled a curtain across her window.

On the other side of the plane, Stanley saw a very tired-looking young couple with a crying baby across their laps, keeping them awake. Flying up next to the window so that the baby could see him, he made a funny face, puffing his lips and wrinkling his nose. The baby smiled, and Stanley put his thumbs in his ears and wriggled his other fingers. The baby smiled again, and went to sleep.

Stanley flew back around the plane, past the cockpit, to join Arthur on the other side.

There were two pilots in the cockpit, and one saw Stanley fly by. Turning his head, he now saw both brothers hovering above a wing tip, waiting for Prince Haraz to catch up.

“Guess what I see out there, Bert,” he said.

“The stars in the sky, Tom, and below us the mighty ocean,” replied the other pilot.

“No,” said Tom. “Two kids in bath robes.”

“Ha, ha! What a joker!” said Bert, but he turned to look.

Only Prince Haraz could be seen now above the wing, his parka flapping as he looked around for Stanley and Arthur, who were hiding from him behind the plane.

“So what do you see, Bert?” asked Tom, keeping his own eyes straight ahead. “Two kids in bathrobes, right?”

“Wrong,” said Bert quietly. “I see a guy in ski clothes, with a dragon face.”

The pilots stared at each other, then out at the wing again, but the
genie had flown to join the brothers behind the plane.

“Nobody there,” said Tom. “Let’s never mention this to anyone, Bert. Okay?”

“Good idea,” said Bert. “Definitely.”

They flew on and had nothing more to say.

A giant ocean liner, ablaze with lights, made its way across the sea below.

“Come on!” Arthur shouted, whizzing away with Stanley behind him. Again, Prince Haraz laughed and let them go.

The beauty of the great ship made the brothers marvel as they drew near. It was like an enormous birthday cake, each deck a layer sparkling with the brightness of a thousand candles.

“Look, Stanley!” Arthur cried. “They’re having a party on the main deck!”

They flew closer to enjoy the fun and saw then that it was not a party, but a robbery.

The main deck was crowded because robbers had lined up all the passengers and were taking their money and jewelry. The helicopter in which the robbers had arrived was parked close by, below the captain’s bridge. The captain and his fellow officers had struggled, but they were chained up now on the bridge.

“We’ve got to do something, Stanley!” Arthur said.

Zooming down to the bridge, he shouted over the railing at the robbers below. “Stop, you crooks! Give back all that money and jewelry and stuff!”

Using his great strength, Arthur tore away the ropes and chains that bound the ship’s officers. It was as if he were just tearing paper.