Be a Genie in Six Easy Steps (14 page)

BOOK: Be a Genie in Six Easy Steps
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W
hen the children arrived at the town hall for the big trivia challenge that afternoon, they found it was packed with people. Jess, Michael, Jason, and Milly made their way through the crowds and slipped into a row of seats near the front of the hall. Before them was a stage with a central microphone. On either side of it were two long tables, each with four chairs and four buzzers, where the teams would sit and compete. A banner across the stage read,
GRAND TRIVIA TEAM CHALLENGE IN AID OF GUIDE DOGS FOR THE BLIND
. The eight teams taking part sat in the waiting area just in front of the stage.

“This whole thing is lame to the max,” grumbled Michael. “I think Skribble had the right idea, taking a sick day.”

“He's not pretending,” said Milly defensively. They had left the bookworm safely recovering under her duvet. “Anyway, don't you want to see Mr. Foxtrot get tricked?”


If
I've granted the wish properly,” Jason fretted. It
seemed a long time since Mr. Foxtrot had made the wish that morning. Would his trick work?

Jess half smiled. “You sound as nervous as Mark looks!”

Mark was white-faced and clearly worried. Beside him was a woman in her fifties with long gray hair and large glasses, and a tall dark-haired man who looked to be around Mark's age.

Ginny and David
, Jason thought. Mark had told him all about the other team members—Ginny worked in the town's newsdealer and was good at questions on TV, film, and books, while David was an accountant and knew all about sports.

Mr. Foxtrot was pacing around the table. “Concentration,” he announced, pointing at Ginny. “Focus,” he said to David. Then he looked at Mark and sighed. “Oh, for heaven's sake, just get the answers right!”

Ann, who was standing behind Mark, looked about to say something, but Mark squeezed her arm and shook his head.

The quizmaster, Mr. Evans, walked onto the stage with a microphone. “Well, I think we're just about ready to start!” he announced. “So, let's have a bit of hush!”

People stopped talking and began to make their way to their seats. Ann kissed Mark on the head and looked for a
free place to sit. The kids had “accidentally” forgotten to save her a chair, so she sat a couple of rows behind them.

“Welcome to Moreways Meet's sixth Grand Trivia Team Challenge,” Mr. Evans said. “It's great to see so many of you here today turning out to support such a worthwhile cause. The challenge will commence shortly and will be followed by a break for refreshments and then a tea dance….”

“What is a tea dance, anyway?” Milly whispered.

“Old people dancing and having tea,” Jess said. “I asked Mum.”

“Ultralame!” Michael cringed. “Soon as the challenge is over we're out of here….”

Mr. Evans picked up a folder. “And so, on to the quiz. The teams will take turns to compete in pairs, answering questions in six categories—geography, sports, science and math, entertainment, current affairs, and finally history. The winning team of each pair will go through to the semifinals and then the two winners of the semifinals will go head-to-head in the grand finale. May I ask the first two teams to join me, please: the Foxtrot Four and the East Street Eagles.”

The audience broke out into polite applause. “Go on, Dad!” Milly whispered as Mark's team made their way from the waiting area onto the stage. They took their
places to the left of Mr. Evans, while the East Street Eagles sat on the right. Milly saw that the team captain was Barry, the owner of Junk and Disorderly.

“Fingers on the buzzers, please, teams, and here we go.” Mr. Evans read out the first question. “In which mountain range is Mount Everest?”

The Himalayas
, Jason thought instantly. He had asked Mark the same question only that morning. Mark buzzed, but Barry beat him to it. However, before Barry could say the answer, Mr. Foxtrot jumped up.

“The Alps!” he shouted.

There were a few startled gasps from the audience and everyone stared at him.

Mr. Evans blinked. “Please, Arthur, sit down. You must know the rules better than anyone—no speaking out unless you buzz and I call your name.”

Mr. Foxtrot's face turned crimson. “Sorry, sorry,” he blustered, hastily sitting down. “Don't know what came over me….”

Jess, Michael, and Milly turned to look at Jason. He grinned but didn't say anything.

Mr. Evans cleared his throat. “Let's start again with another question—which American state is nicknamed ‘the Sunshine State'?”

Again Mark buzzed but before Mr. Evans could ask him
for the answer, Mr. Foxtrot was on his feet. “Florida!” he yelled.

This time there was a hum of noise as people on the other quiz teams and members of the audience turned to each other and began whispering.

“What is he doing?” Jess hissed. “I mean, at least he got the answer right this time but…” She looked pointedly at Jason. “What's going on?”

But Jason only smiled.

“Will you
please
sit down, Arthur!” Mr. Evans said sharply. “I cannot accept your answer if you do not buzz. It's the rules!” He turned to the chattering audience. “May I have some hush, please?”

“Yes!” boomed Foxtrot.

There was still more excited whispering. Foxtrot had turned as red as a sunburned beetroot as he sat back in his chair. Mark swapped bemused looks with David and Ginny.

Michael elbowed Jason. “'Fess up. What's going on with Foxtrot?”

“Well…” Jason decided to put them out of their misery. “He wished that he could answer
every single question
at the quiz this afternoon. And so that's the wish I granted.”

A slow smile spread over Michael's face. “You mean
he's going to answer
anything
that
anyone
is asked?”

Jason nodded.

“Even if he doesn't know the right answer?” said Jess wonderingly.

“Yep.” Jason grinned. “Guess he should have told me he wanted to answer them all correctly, shouldn't he?”

“Oh, Jase!” Michael said, punching his arm. “That's priceless!”

Milly chuckled. “Good one, Jase!”

“And for the third time,” Mr. Evans announced. “The first geography question of the round…” He glanced warily at Foxtrot. “In which ocean is the island of Mauritius?”

Foxtrot half leaped up from his chair. Grabbing the seat of it with both hands, he pulled himself back down, his lips tightly shut. But the magic impelling him to answer was too great. “The Pacific!” he roared.

This time the buzz of chatter in the audience was loud enough to fill the room. It was clear no one had ever behaved like this before.

Mr. Evans stomped furiously to the front of the stage. “This is your final warning, Arthur! You're spoiling it for everyone. One more word and you're disqualified—do you understand?”

“Of course!” Foxtrot cried.

Mark grabbed his arm and pulled him down into his
seat. Ginny and David rounded on him. Jason couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear from the looks on their faces that they were not happy at all.

Mr. Evans looked very red and cross as he returned to his chair. “Which country does Portugal border?”

“France!” bellowed Foxtrot, jumping to his feet before anyone had a chance to buzz. “No, Spain! Or is it Germany?”

“That's it!” Mr. Evans yelled. He pointed to the door. “You're out!”

Foxtrot squeaked like a mouse caught in a trap. “No! You can't do this! Not to
me
!”

Barry stood up crossly. “You think you're better than anyone else, don't you, Foxtrot?”

“Of course I do, and with very good reason!” Foxtrot cried—then slapped both hands over his mouth with a horrified look, as if trying to stop any more words from escaping. “Tell me I didn't just say that!”

“You're disqualified, Arthur,” said Mr. Evans. He signaled to two of the ushers who'd been helping people to their seats, and they headed quickly for the stage.

“Could you come this way, sir?” one of them asked.

“Yes!” Foxtrot snapped. “I mean—no! Please, let me stay!” He looked around wildly. “I want to win. I
deserve
to win! I've GOT to win!”

“This way, please, sir,” the other usher said, taking him by his arm.

Mr. Foxtrot was led out down the stairs at the side of the stage, arguing furiously. “This is preposterous! This is ridiculous….” He tried to pull away from the ushers but was firmly propelled toward the door.

“Poor man,” a woman in front of the Worthingtons said to her companion. “It must be the strain.”

Her companion sighed. “Old Arthur always was a silly beggar.”

Michael leaned over Milly and high-fived with Jason. “Way to go, Jase!”

“That was a great trick!” Milly agreed. “I bet we'll have passed Step Five easily!”

“The only trouble is,” Jess said slowly, “Mark's team is now a member short. If that means they lose…”

Jason pulled a face. “Oh, no, I hadn't thought of that! The book said that no one else must suffer because of the wish.” He gulped. “And now Mark and his team are a man down.”

Michael slapped a hand to his forehead. “You know what that means, don't you—if they
do
lose, we're going to have failed the step after all!”

“I
f we've failed this step, that's it for the genie training!” said Jess anxiously. “No second chances, remember?”

“Look, it
might
be okay,” said Jason hopefully. “I've been helping Mark with his fact learning and he's loads better now. The team might not need Mr. Foxtrot if Mark can answer all his questions correctly.”

“I hope you're right, Jase,” Michael said as the hall door was shut firmly after Foxtrot and the Trivia Team Challenge resumed.

Mr. Evans cleared his throat. “Let's start again. Which is the longest river in Scotland?”

Mark buzzed first.

Mr. Evans nodded. “Foxtrot Four?”

“The Tay!”

“Correct.” Mr. Evans looked very relieved to finally have the first question out of the way. “And the second geography question: Into which sea does the Nile flow?”

Mark and Barry both buzzed, but again Mark was just a fraction ahead.

“Foxtrot Four, again,” said Mr. Evans.

“The Mediterranean.”

“Correct,” Mr. Evans said again. “That's two points for the Foxtrot Four.”

The trivia challenge seemed to go on and on as all the different teams took their turns. But Mark did really well. In fact, all three remaining of the Foxtrot Four answered lots of questions. They won the first round by a whisker, and then won their semifinal by several points.

“They don't need Foxtrot at all!” said Jess as Mark, David, and Ginny went back onto the stage for the final against a team of glamorous middle-aged women called the Brooke Close Babes.

“If Dad's team wins then there's no way that the book can say you've made anyone else suffer!” Milly said excitedly to Jason. “It'll
have
to pass us!”

“Go, Dad! Go, Dad!” Michael chanted under his breath.

It was very close, with the two teams neck and neck until a final tiebreaking question:

“Is it possible for a man in Wales to marry his widow's sister?” Mr. Evans asked them.

Jason's heart leaped, and Mark's finger was on the buzzer instantly.

Mr. Evans turned to him in a moment. “Foxtrot Four?”

“No, it's not possible!” Mark exclaimed, with a look toward Jason in the crowd. “If a man's got a widow, he's dead—he can't marry anyone!”

“Correct!” Mr. Evans declared. “The Foxtrot Four—er,
Three
—are the winners!”

“Yes!” Michael jumped up and punched the air as the audience burst into applause. Jess whooped. Milly flung her arms around Jason, and Ann hurried from her seat to join in the hug. Jess and Michael hastily drew away in case she tried to hug them too.

Up on the stage, Mark looked like he could hardly believe it as Ginny hugged him and David pumped his hand. The other teams came over and congratulated them too.

Mr. Evans produced a silver trophy from behind his podium. “Would the winners kindly come up and receive their prize?” he announced, sparking a fresh round of applause. The kids all cheered as Mark, David, and Ginny collected their trophy.

David held the trophy above his head in victory. “Thank you very much!” he said.

“I suppose the name Foxtrot Four doesn't really fit anymore,” Mr. Evans commented. “How about…the Foxtrotless Three?”

Ginny grinned. “I think the name on the trophy should be Worthington's Wonders!” She pushed Mark forward. “Seeing as this man here, Mark Worthington, was the real star of the team!”

Mark looked pleased but embarrassed. “Well, we
all
answered questions.”

“But you got so many right!” said David. “Must come from owning your own bookshop!”

“Would you like to say a few words, Mark?” Mr. Evans said, handing him the microphone.

Mark nodded. “I'd just like to say a huge thank-you to one person in particular—my nine-year-old stepson, Jason. Without his help preparing me for this quiz, I wouldn't be here!”

Jason went bright red as Michael hauled him to his feet.

“Here he is!” Michael shouted.

Mark motioned to Jason. “Come up here!”

Milly nudged him along the row, and Jason stumbled to the front in a daze. The audience clapped again as he went up the steps onto the stage.

“What a nail-biting event they've all given us,” said Mr. Evans. “I give you—Worthington's Wonders!”

Everyone left the stage to the sound of cheering. Mark and Jason went to join Ann, Jess, Michael, and Milly. “Well
done!” Ann said, kissing Mark. “You were brilliant!”

Milly hugged him. “You got so many questions right, Dad!”

“Thanks to Jason,” Mark said. “I could never have answered all those questions without your help, mate.”

“No problem,” Jason said, glad to be surrounded by his family looking so happy.

A young, slim woman with blond corkscrew curls came over, holding a notebook and a tape recorder. “Hi,” she said, looking at Mark. “I don't mean to intrude, but I'm a journalist for the local paper. My name's Sarah Sellick.” She raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like your team had some excitement today even before your victory! I bumped into Arthur Foxtrot outside the hall and had a little chat.”

“Did he answer your questions?” asked Jason innocently.

Sarah nodded. “Even the ones I was asking other people! I couldn't shut him up! Anyway, I'd love to get a few words from you—and from this young man here.” Sarah smiled at Jason. “Is it true you helped your dad prepare?”

“He's not really my…” Jason stopped, his eyes meeting Mark's. “Yeah. It's true.”

“Great! Let's pop nearer to the stage, where it's a bit quieter,” Sarah suggested.

“Think I'll come too,” Michael announced. “You might
want to quote me; I'm Jason's older stepbrother—taught him everything he knows….”

Jason play-shoved Michael. “As if!”

Milly and Jess watched as Jason, Michael, and Mark set off with Sarah Sellick.

“Cokes all around, girls?” asked Ann.

Jess and Milly nodded. They all picked a slow path through the thronging people toward the bar at the side of the busy room.

“Hey, Jess! Over here!”

Jess looked around and, to her surprise, spotted Colette pushing her way through the crowd toward her.

“I've been looking for you,” said Colette, reaching her at last. “I thought I'd stop by to see how your dad had got on.”

“His team won!” Jess said, delighted that Colette had bothered to come. “I can hardly believe it! He's being interviewed by some journalist right now.”

“By the way,” Colette went on, “did that weird couple find you okay?”

Jess frowned. “What weird couple?”

“This man and woman came up to me about five minutes ago, asked me if I knew you, and where you and your brothers and sister lived. I didn't tell them, of course,” Colette added quickly, seeing Jess's shocked expression.
“They looked sort of…weird. Suntans and white teeth, and staring eyes…”

With a sick feeling, Jess realized she was describing the couple they'd seen at the junk shop, and again on the way back from Colette's house. “Where are they now?”

Colette's eyes skimmed across the crowd. “Can't see them. They must have gone.” She looked at Jess. “You look pale. Is everything cool?”

Jess nodded. “Yeah. Fine.” But her mind was racing. Why had the weird couple come here? Why did they want to know where she lived? “I—I'd better get back to Mum and everyone.”

“I'd better get going, too,” said Colette. “See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, later,” Jess replied.

As Colette fought her way back through the crowd, Jess's skin was prickling.
Stay calm
, she thought.
Just find the others—now!

She glanced to the front of the hall. Sarah Sellick was still interviewing Mark and Jason. Michael was leaning backward on his chair, trying to catch Sarah's eye. Jess waved to him urgently.

Seeing the panicked expression on her face, Michael came over. “What's up?”

“You know that man and woman we saw the other day
at the top of Colette's road?” Jess shuddered. “Well, they were here in the hall. They saw Colette and asked her if she knew me. They wanted to know where we lived!”

“Seriously?” Michael ran a hand through his hair. “That's a bit weird. Why would they want to know that?”

“I don't know. They looked at me and Milly so strangely in the junk shop. The lamp was wrapped up, but they kept staring, as if they were trying to see what it was….”

“And then they turn up a few days later when we're all around together,” said Michael. “And now they want to know who we are and where we live.”

“They're after us,” Jess said simply. She looked at Michael. “And…I think they're
magic
!”

To her relief, Michael didn't laugh. He thought for a second and then nodded. “We should talk to the others about this.”

“Quick as we can,” Jess agreed, relieved. Having Michael take her side made her feel a bit better.

“Hey, you two—over here!” Hearing Ann's voice, they turned. The interview had finished and Ann, Mark, Jason, and Milly were all standing by the door.

“Coming!” Jess called.

“What were you two talking about?” Mark asked curiously as they walked over. “You looked deep in conversation.”

“Just talking about which would be worse,” Michael said lightly. “Going to a tea dance or having your nose hairs pulled out by a killer monkey with dirty fingernails.”

Mark grinned. “The tea dance, obviously!”

As they left the hall, Milly and Jason fell into step beside Jess. “What were you and Michael really talking about?” Milly whispered curiously. “Was it genie stuff?”

Jess glanced at their parents. “Later.”

“Is something wrong?” said Jason, frowning.

Jess hesitated. She wanted to say no, so that he and Milly didn't worry.

But her every instinct was screaming that something was very wrong indeed….

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