Be a Genie in Six Easy Steps (2 page)

M
ichael was finally about to beat the end-of-level monster when his Game Boy was yanked from his hands. “Hey!” he yelled, looking up to find both Milly and Jason in his face. “Gimme it back!”

“No!” Milly switched off his game and plonked it on the kitchen table.

“Are you
mental
?” Michael cried. “It took me
two hours
to get that far….”

“Michael!” Milly exclaimed. “This is important. We…”

The kitchen door opened. Milly spun around, but it was just Jess, her fourteen-year-old stepsister. She came into the room, shoulder-length honey-blond hair perfectly straightened, not a strand out of place.

“What's up?” She frowned as she noticed Jason's and Milly's pale faces. “You two look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost,” said Milly, her eyes wide. “A worm!”

“A really angry one!” said Jason, holding up the old book. “It's in here!”

Michael stared at him in disbelief. “You two stopped me from getting my highest-ever score to show me a squashed
worm
?” He paused. “Actually, that does sound quite cool. Get it out, then.”

“It's not squashed!” cried Milly. “It's alive and wriggly and cross 'cause we've woken it up and—”

Jess shook her head. “Oh, not
another
of your dumb made-up plays, Milly.”

“Show them, Jason!” said Milly. “Let them see for themselves!”

Jason gulped. “Is it safe? He seemed really angry….”

“Guys,” said Michael, scowling, “you have until the count of five to come up with something impressive enough to stop me from killing you. One…”

Jason hurriedly opened up the book.

“Two…”

Jason and Milly started turning the pages, but gingerly, as if worried the book might bite them.

“Three…”

Milly started turning the pages faster. “There!” she squealed. “Look, there!”

Michael blinked and leaned forward, as did Jess.

“What?” Michael said.

“Don't you see him?” asked Milly.

Michael frowned. There was
something
there—a sort of pinky-brown shadow in the middle of one of the pages. Probably a prehistoric jam stain or a wiped booger or something, he decided. “Four,” he went on.

“Be quiet a second!” Jess stared at the open book. “I heard something! Like a little squeaking voice.”

Michael blinked as the shadow seemed to shift on the page. With a shock, he realized
he
could hear a little voice too:

“…dear, oh, dear, we're never going to get anywhere at this rate; what's wrong with the pair of them? Don't tell me they're so dim they don't believe in magic…?”

Michael's mouth went dry. “Jason,” he said slowly, “how are you making that voice?”

“I'm
not
making it!” Jason insisted.

“You are!” said Michael. “You've got to be.”

“How could I be while I'm talking to you?” Jason stabbed a finger at the page. “It's
that
thing talking!”

Jess stared at the book. “It—it's getting louder!”

“Hard-boiled heads, that's what they've got! It happens to certain SILLY people as they get older…. Well, I'm not waiting around all day, you know! I'm not going to BEG anyone to believe in me! Certainly not!
I
beg? I, who have consorted with princes and popes and—”

“What the…?” Michael stared at the shadow in the
book as it grew more solid and began to curl like a wriggly question mark. He took a step back, shaking his head. “No way. This can't be happening!”

“But it is,” Jess breathed, crouching down. “It's a talking worm! Look, its little eyes are blinking!”

“LITTLE EYES? Of all the cheek!” The voice was getting louder and louder and crosser and crosser as the shape grew. “I've seen more things with these eyes than you could possibly imagine in a million years….”

Michael clapped his hands over his ears. “Nooooo!” he moaned. “This is mega-mental. There can't really be a talking worm in a book. There just
can't
be!”

Milly yanked his hands down. “Michael! Look. You can see him.” Her eyes shone. “Oh, I'm so glad! I know you
think
you're too cool to believe in magic—”

Michael stared at the worm. “I believe I've gone grade-A fruit loops!”

The bookworm stared back with beady eyes. “Fruit? Loops? In all my days I've never met ANYONE as dim and as dense, silly, and senseless as you, boy!”

Michael opened and shut his mouth. For the first time in his life he was lost for words.

“What is this book?” said Jess. “Where did you get it?”

“It's called
The Genie Handbook
, and it came from the big old house on the hill,” Milly replied. “It says on the
cover that it teaches you how to be a genie in six steps.”

“But how can it?” Jess said.

“Maybe we should go to the den.” Jason looked nervously at the bookworm. “If Mum or Mark comes into the kitchen and finds us with…
that
…!”

“That?” squawked the worm furiously. “That' indeed?”

“Shhh!” Jess said, half expecting her mum and Mark to come running. “You're right, Jase. Let's go to the den.”

“And let's have a closer look at this book,” Michael added. He picked it up gingerly and looked all around it for any signs of wires, projectors, anything dodgy. But there was only the old, crumbling paper and the worn leather cover. Michael gulped. The worm scowled at him as he finished his inspection.

“Here.” Michael passed the book to Jason. “You found it; you carry it!”

They hurried along the hallway. There was an old wooden door under the stairs. Michael pulled it open and they piled down the rickety staircase inside. The den was a large, ramshackle space at the bottom, strewn with old clothes and games, older furniture and half unpacked boxes. There was a saggy sofa, an old chair, several beanbags, and an ancient stereo. Jason put the book down on a packing case.

“Who
are
you?” Jess asked the worm.

“My name,” replied the bookworm loftily, “is Skrib
baleum El Lazeez Ekir.”

Michael frowned. “Skribble-what?”

“Skribble!” Milly grinned. “That's a cool name for a bookworm.”

“I have already told you I am
not
a bookworm,” said Skribble sharply. “I am, in fact, a…”

He suddenly stopped.

“Well?” asked Milly eagerly.

Skribble cleared his throat, and his tone changed. “I
am
, in fact, a bookworm.” He nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, full marks to you all, you clever children. You've spotted it. I am a bookworm. Yes, that's exactly what I am.”

“Except that you're not,” Jason pointed out logically. “Because a
real
bookworm is a beetle larva, and they can't talk, and—”

“Begone with your beetles, boy!” Skribble exclaimed. “Of course I am no
ordinary
bookworm….” He paused impressively. “I am a
magical
one.”

“Glad we've cleared that up.” Michael felt like he was in a dream. “So, you're expecting us to believe you're a talking magical bookworm who's been stuck in that book for, what…?”

“About two thousand years,” said Skribble. “Give or take a century or two.”

Milly gaped. “You've been shut away all that time?”

“Well, I may have peeped out now and again, but I can only be seen by those who believe magic is possible,” Skribble replied. “This handbook was once part of the Great Genie Library of Magical Muses, but two thousand years ago the library was ransacked by thieves. This book, along with many other magical works, was hidden in the Human Realm until the thieves thought it safe to collect.” He sighed. “But they never did. Here in your world it has been bought and sold, stolen and recovered umpteen times over the centuries.” He tutted and looked around. “Now I appear to have ended up here….”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Are you
sure
you're not a special effect?”

Skribble frowned. “I am extremely special and effective, if that is what you mean!”

“But you
must
be computer generated or something….” Michael turned to the others. “This
so
can't be happening!”

“I am here in front of your eyes and I
am
real,” Skribble said in a tone that would accept no arguments. “So…” He looked around at them all. “Are you going to introduce yourselves?”

Milly pushed Michael to one side and crouched beside Skribble. “I'm Milly and this nut is my brother, Michael.”

“I'm Jason,” Jason put in. “And this is my sister, Jess.”
Jess gave the bookworm a dazed smile. “Michael and Milly are our stepbrother and stepsister,” Jason explained.

“My dad has just gotten married to Jess and Jason's mum,” Milly added.

“Your tribal arrangements are of no matter to me,” Skribble said impatiently. He peered around at them all. “How old are you?”

“I'm eight,” Milly replied. “Jason is nine, Michael's thirteen, and Jess is fourteen.”

“And you want to become genies?” Skribble said slowly.

“Yeah!” Milly and Jason exclaimed.

Michael snorted. “Genies! Why would we want to be genies?”

Milly smiled sweetly at him. “Okay then, Michael. You just go back to your dumb video games while the rest of us do magic and have all our wishes come true and live an amazingly brilliant life without you—loser!”

Michael hesitated. “What about you, Jess?” he appealed to his stepsister. “You don't really believe in this kids' stuff, do you?”

Jess looked embarrassed. “There's no harm in going along with it, is there?” She cleared her throat. “For Jason's and Milly's sakes, I mean.”

Michael stared at her.

“Hmm…You might just fit my needs,” Skribble muttered thoughtfully, studying them. “Yes, you might do very well.” His tone changed. “Well, if that's what you want, what are you waiting for? Stop wasting time and start reading the introduction of this magnificent manuscript. I'll be back when you've finished.”

With that, he vanished inside his little hole in the old, discolored paper.

“Wow!” gasped Milly. “Isn't he brilliant?”

From inside the book there was a faint rustle, as if a tiny head was nodding in approval.

Suddenly the book began to shake. “What's happening?” Jess asked in alarm.

“It did this before!” Jason exclaimed. “I think it means something magic's going on!”

T
he children stared at the book as it juddered and shook. After a few seconds, it jerked upward and fell back, lying open at the first page. Words had formed there in swift, bold strokes of indigo ink, the color of night skies in summer.

Jason leaned forward. “We can read it,” he said to Milly. “It's in English now!”

“Read it out loud, then,” Milly urged him.

“A
genie
!” Milly gasped. “Then it's really true! This book could make us
all
into genies!”

“I thought people were meant to find lamps with genies inside,” Jess said, frowning. “That's how it is in stories. People don't usually become genies themselves!”

“But this isn't a story!” Milly's eyes shone. “Oh, wow! We could all become genies and grant wishes!”

“We'd be able to wish for anything we wanted!” said Jason.

Jess caught her breath. “We could wish ourselves back to London!”

Michael began to look interested. “You mean if this book really worked, we could have our lives back the way they were before we came to Moreways Meet?”

Jess closed her eyes. “My own bedroom instead of having to share, being back with all my mates…”

“I could have a signal on my mobile!” said Michael, suddenly excited. “And Gamez-R-Us just around the corner. I could go to all my old after-school clubs….”

Jason nodded. “I could see my friends and teachers.”

“And I could go back and be Dorothy!” said Milly. “What are we waiting for?”

Michael caught himself.
What am I thinking? As if we could really become genies
. “We're waiting to wake up,” he told Milly. “Nice dream, but I'm telling you—stuff like this just doesn't happen!”

Milly ignored him and quickly turned the page. One big red word caught all their attention straightaway.

“Well, get on with it then!” came a crotchety voice. Skribble burst out through the page. “You've read the introduction; you want to become genies. You must now take your solemn, binding vow.” He looked suddenly cagey. “Repeat after me: To be a genie is my heart's desire.”

Jason frowned. “But that's not vowing we'll keep everything secret like the book said.”

“Who knows best?” Skribble demanded. “Me—a clever and distinguished being who's been living inside this book for almost two thousand years—or you, an idle idiot with a brain full of beetles?”

But my heart's desire isn't to be a genie
, thought Jess.
It's to go back to London.

Then she stopped herself. She was believing in all this way too easily—as if she was just a kid again. Michael had to be right; this was all a clever trick. Wasn't it?

You can't take the chance
, whispered a voice at the back of her mind. She looked at the prissy little bookworm, so solid and real in this mysterious book.
Say whatever it wants you to—what have you got to lose? If you
were
a genie, you could put your life back the way it was
….

Michael nudged her. “Come on. The sooner we say it, the sooner nothing will happen and I can prove this is all just rubbish.”

“I imagine you know a very great deal about rubbish, you young ruffian!” Skribble sniffed. “Now, come on, all together: To be a genie is my heart's desire.”

“To be a genie is my heart's desire,” they all chorused obediently.

A shiver ran through the book and a spark of light jumped across its cover.

“Whoa!” said Michael, looking spooked.

“Splendid,” chortled Skribble. “
Now
all you need do is tell the book you solemnly vow never to share its knowledge, to speak of its existence to others, or to use its great teachings unwisely.”

Jason frowned. “But that's what we were going to do in the first place!”

Skribble seemed to be smirking. “You'd better get on with it, then, hadn't you!”

They looked at each other, shrugged, and then said: “We solemnly vow never to share your knowledge, to speak of your existence to others, or to use your great teachings unwisely.”

Nothing happened. Not a single page of the book moved.

“Hmmm,” said Skribble, putting his head to one side and frowning.

“What is it?” asked Jess.

“The book doesn't appear to be convinced,” Skribble replied. He poked the book with his tail but still nothing happened. “You are going to have to try harder to make it believe that you mean what you say.”

“It's hard to sound like we mean stuff when we have to use silly, old-fashioned words,” Milly complained.

“What about if we say the vow in words
we
would use, then?” Jason suggested.

“Would that work?” Jess asked Skribble.

“For goodness sake! Don't you children ever think for yourselves?” the bookworm blustered. “You have brains! Use them!”

Jess looked at him. “You don't know, do you?”

“How dare you!” Skribble cried.

“Don't let's argue,” said Milly. “I want to start doing some magic.” She turned to her brother. “Can you think of something to say, Michael?”

Jess nodded. “Something that means the same but in our own words?”

Michael looked at her suspiciously. “You really want to believe this magic genie stuff could actually be true, don't you?”

Jess's cheeks reddened, but she met his gaze. “Don't you?” she said quietly. “If you didn't believe just a bit, you wouldn't have seen Skribble at all.”

Michael looked away. He thought for a moment and then pointed at
The Genie Handbook
. “Okay, book. Whatever. We mean what we said in the vow; we're up for the challenge and we won't tell anyone, not ever. So, come on, then—come on and make us genies!”

At once, the book began to shake. Skribble squawked and wriggled back down into his hole as the next page turned over by itself and almost flattened him. Sparks and specks of multicolored lights danced around
The Genie Handbook
like fireflies. The strange, unknowable squiggles on the ancient paper began to twist and unravel into proper words….

“It believes us!” Milly gasped in excitement. “We're about to begin!”