Название | The Flat Stanley Collection |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jeff Brown |
Жанр | Учебная литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Учебная литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781405295161 |
‘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. ‘In fact, you can hardly have begun.’
‘We were going to do 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 maybe 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. ‘Chests full of gold and diamonds, 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 that a whole person could puff out of a pot?’
‘It’s not a pot,’ said Prince Haraz. ‘And this is a ridiculous way to carry on a conversation. Please come out. I apologise 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. ‘Try it Stanley,’ he said. ‘Try a wish.’
‘We’re not allowed,’ Stanley said. ‘Not till our homework is done.’
‘What’s homework?’ Prince Haraz asked.
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 green and red 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,’ he said. ‘I’d like, uh . . . can I have answers for my maths homework? It’s the problems on page twenty of my book.’
The basket made a steady huuuummm sound, and then the hum stopped and a man’s voice rose from it, deep and rich like a TV announcer’s.
‘Thank you for calling Askit Basket,’ it said. ‘Unfortunately, all our Answer Genies are busy at the present time, but your questions have been received, and you will be served by the first available personnel. While you wait, enjoy a selection by The Geniettes. This message will not be repeated.’
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: five pears, six apples, eight bananas. The second answer is: Tom is four years old, Tim is seven, Ted is eleven. The third –’
‘Let me get a pencil!’ Stanley shouted. ‘I can’t remember all this!’
‘A written record, created especially for your own personal convenience, is in the basket, sir,’ said the cheery voice. ‘Thanks for calling Askit Basket, and have a nice day!’
‘Wait!’ 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”. Could I have it printed out, please, like Stanley’s maths?’
The answer came right away. ‘Certainly, Mr Lambchop. Just a teeny-tiny moment now, while we make sure the handwriting – There! All done, Mr Lambchop!’
Arthur opened the basket and found a sheet of lined paper covered with his own handwriting. He read it aloud.
Arthur smiled. ‘That’s pretty good!’ he said. ‘Just what I wanted to say, Shireen.’
‘I’m so glad,’ said the Askit Basket. ‘Bye bye now!’
Stanley and Arthur called goodbye, and then Prince Haraz plucked the basket out of the air and set it on the desk beside his lamp.
‘There! Homework’s done,’ he said. ‘That was an awfully ordinary sort of wish, Stanley. Isn’t there something 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 realised 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, lion-like ears. A lion’s mane appeared behind the head, but then came an elephant’s body and legs in a brownish-gold lion colour, and finally a little grey 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?’