I nodded reluctantly and pressed my face right up against the window for the trip down. I don’t know how fast we were going as Earth rushed towards us, but anyone watching from the ground would only have seen a tiny blur.
For the rest of that day the alien slept in her chair and I slept on my beanbag, while Mum talked at a hundred miles an hour until it was time for Granny to leave. As she made her way to the door Fatty glared and hissed, and the alien glared and hissed back. Which made me laugh because it was exactly like my granny.
The next time my real granny came to visit I told her all about the alien granny impostor and she enjoyed it even more than the Viking at the zoo story. So I knew she was definitely my granny!
I’ve worked out that when you get into trouble at school there are three things a teacher might say, and it all depends on what you’ve done and how much trouble you’re in.
If it’s something small they’ll say:‘See me after class!’
If it’s something quite naughty they’ll say: ‘I’ll see you at break time!’
And if it’s something really bad they’ll say: ‘Go and see the head teacher!’
On a really bad day you can get all three, one after another. Especially if it’s a new teacher on their first day and you don’t know how strict they are. And there’s only one way to find that out for sure…
‘Jake Cake!’ yelled Mrs Snip. ‘Have you fallen asleep in my class?’
‘No, Miss,’ I lied, yawning and propping myself up on the desk. Mrs Snip was our new maths teacher. The last one was Mrs Beady who turned into a werewolf when I fell asleep in her class – but I’ll tell you about that another time.
‘I distinctly saw your eyes closed!’ Mrs Snip snapped. ‘See me after class!’
‘But I was working out some maths in my head!’ I lied again.
‘Really?’ Mrs Snip narrowed her eyes. ‘And what, pray tell, was the answer to this mind-boggling mathematical equation?’
‘Er… one,’ I said, because it was the first number that popped into my head.
‘What an amusing coincidence!’ Mrs Snip chuckled. ‘That’s exactly how many break times you’ll be spending with me, for falling asleep in class and telling a fib.’
‘Uh?’ I gasped, sitting up straight and feeling very wide awake all of a sudden, which never happens in maths class because maths is the most boring subject ever.
‘Do you have something else you wish to add?’ asked Mrs Snip.
The way she said it sounded like a warning. ‘Or can we get back to the fascinating world of fractions?’
‘If fractions were fascinating I wouldn’t have fallen asleep,’ I mumbled.
There was a gasp from the rest of the class that made me think that I hadn’t mumbled as quietly as I’d hoped, and to confirm this I looked up to see Mrs Snip pointing at the door.
‘Go and see the head teacher!’ she said firmly.
Slouching down the corridor I tried to work out how I’d gone from ‘See me after class!’ to ‘ Go and see the head teacher!’ in such a short space of time. It seemed a bit fishy, until I remembered that new teachers always make their first punishment really harsh as a warning to the rest of the class.
‘Typical!’ I thought. ‘I’ve just done Mrs Snip a favour!’
Outside the head teacher’s office Mrs Price explained that Mr Barton was in a meeting all morning and did not want to be disturbed. Mrs Price is the head teacher’s secretary and therefore knows me quite well.
‘So, let me guess,’ she said. ‘You’re in trouble again?’
‘Well, I fell asleep in maths class because maths is really boring, and then I said I hadn’t fallen asleep and that I was doing sums in my head, which wasn’t entirely true…’ I paused for a quick breath.
‘Then I mumbled something about fascinating fractions, but it wasn’t a very good mumble because everyone heard it and Mrs Snip sent me here.’
‘Gosh!’ said Mrs Price. ‘You have had a busy morning.’
I shrugged and tried to look like an innocent victim of maths.
‘Rather than interrupting Mr Barton, I think I should give you something to do as punishment,’ Mrs Price said, drumming her fingers on the desk thoughtfully. ‘And I have noticed the school trophies are looking a little dull.’
Mrs Price used her key to unlock the big old trophy case in the corridor and armed me with a pair of cleaning cloths and a tin of metal polish. Then she gave me a quick demonstration that involved rubbing the polish on and rubbing the polish off.
‘Easy,’ I said, thinking it was a bit of a cheek asking me to clean stuff, but it was probably better than facing Mr Barton and definitely better than sitting in maths class with strict Mrs Snip.
‘And I suggest you use this time to think about telling fibs,’ said Mrs Price, heading back to her office. ‘Because telling stories that are not true will make your nose grow long.’
‘So I’ve heard,’ I sighed.
As I began polishing the trophies I did what Mrs Price suggested and spent a couple of minutes thinking about telling fibs. Mostly I was thinking how strange it was to be in trouble for something I actually did this time, and not for something unbelievable.
‘Makes a nice change!’ I said, reaching for a weird silver lamp that looked like a squashed teapot and giving it a good firm rub with the cloth –
Suddenly I was standing in a cloud of orange smoke and as I flapped the cloth to clear the air I realized I was no longer alone in the corridor. There was a strange man standing over me!
‘ARRRGGGH!’ I yelled.
‘ARRRGGGH?’ replied the man.
As the air cleared I noticed there was only half a strange man standing over me because his body kind of stopped at the waist. And he wasn’t really standing because his bottom half was made of smoke, and the smoke was trailing out of the weird silver lamp.
‘You’re a genie!’ I gasped, knowing that only genies come out of old lamps.
‘Yes I am, and you have released me!’ he said, stretching his arms high and groaning like my dad does after he’s fallen asleep in the armchair. ‘I’ve been imprisoned in that terrible lamp for a thousand years!’
I could have spent five minutes being freaked out by the sudden appearance of a genie, or run to Mrs Price’s office and explained that a person had popped out of one of the trophies. I could also have asked the genie lots of dumb questions about missing legs and lamps and prisons.
But instead I cut straight to the important bit.
‘Can I have three wishes?’ I asked because that’s what genies are famous for.
‘Well, of course,’ said the genie, and clicked his fingers.
Suddenly there was a wet thud behind me. I looked round to find three dead haddock splattered on the wooden floor, and by the smell wafting up I could tell they were none too fresh!
‘YUCK!’ I said, holding my nose. ‘Where did they come from?’
‘You asked for three fishes,’ said the genie, scratching his shiny bald head. Actually his head wasn’t completely bald because it had a weird ponytail on top that bobbed around when he spoke.
‘Wishes!’ I said. ‘I asked for wishes, not fishes!’
‘Oh,’ smirked the genie. ‘Sorry, I don’t do wishes.’
‘You don’t do wishes but you do do fishes?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘I’m what’s known as a mean genie,’ explained the genie, folding his arms across his chest majestically. ‘Which means you have to grant me three wishes if you want to get rid of me!’
‘Me?’ I gasped. ‘I can’t grant wishes; I’m just a boy.’
‘Have you ever tried?’ asked the genie.
‘Well, no.’ I frowned. ‘But…’
‘Then how do you know you can’t?’ The genie looked at the trophy case, ran his finger along a dusty shield and pulled a face.
‘This dust and grime displeases me. I wish it were clean,’ he said, and then looked at me expectantly.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Grant the wish, boy!’ he snapped impatiently.
I looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then I turned to the display case, folded my arms like a genie and focused all my attention on granting the wish.
Needless to say nothing happened and I felt pretty silly.
‘Try clicking your fingers,’ the genie prompted. ‘That always works for me.’
I clicked my fingers and still nothing happened. Though I would have been annoyed if I had cleaned them by wish magic, seeing as I’d already cleaned half of them the hard way with polish and a cloth!
‘Words sometimes work,’ suggested the genie.
‘I wish all the trophies were clean and shiny,’ I mumbled halfheartedly.
As quick as a flash the genie clicked his fingers, a cloud of dust burst from the display case and when the air cleared, all the silver trophies were sparkling like diamonds.
‘You did that!’ I said, thinking he was trying to fool me into believing I’d done it myself.
‘Of course,’ said the genie. ‘You wished for clean trophies and I granted it.’
‘But that was your wish!’ I said, ‘That’s what you asked me for.’
‘Are you a genie?’ asked the genie, viewing my legs with suspicion.
‘You know I’m not a genie,’ I yelled. ‘You said you didn’t do wishes because you were a mean genie and that I had to grant –’
‘I lied,’ said the genie, and then roared with laughter.
‘So you’re not a mean genie?’ I growled.
‘Oh, I’m mean and a genie,’ he explained. ‘But I still have to grant three wishes because those’re the rules.’
‘So I do have three wishes?’ I gasped.
‘Well, you did have three wishes,’ he corrected. ‘But now you only have one.’
‘One?’ I said. ‘But I haven’t even asked for anything.’
The genie slipped on a pair of glasses, pulled a small notebook from the pocket of his waistcoat and flicked through the pages in a very businesslike fashion. Then he stopped and prodded the page with a pencil.
‘My wish records show “three fishes at 10.45 a.m.”,’ he said, nodding towards the pile of stinking haddock. ‘And “clean trophies at 10.50 a.m.”,’ he added, jabbing a thumb at the trophy case. ‘Which leaves how many?’
I did the sum in my head and arrived at a familiar number.
‘One,’ I growled, angry that I’d been tricked and was getting a maths lesson!
The genie smiled mischievously as the glasses, notebook and pencil vanished into thin air.
I realized I’d have to watch what I said if I stood any chance of getting the last wish granted on something good. The genie was as slippery as the haddock!
I thought about asking for a million more wishes, but after what happened with the first wish I didn’t want to be surrounded by a million fishes. The three on the floor smelled bad enough!
‘I want a hover bike that can travel through time,’ I said, after giving it a lot of thought.
‘And when I say “bike” I don’t mean “fish” and when I say “time” I don’t mean “fish”.’
‘Does such a time-travel hover bike exist?’ asked the genie.
‘Well, no,’ I said. ‘Not exactly, but –’
‘I’m afraid I can only grant wishes for things that exist in the real world. Like a nice toy car, for example!’ A small plastic car appeared in his hand with a pop. ‘VROOM! VROOM!’ he said, spinning its wheels excitedly.
‘I’m not four years old!’ I said.
‘Would you like to be four years old?’ asked the genie with a wicked grin.
‘NO!’ I gasped.
The car disappeared and was replaced with a clock. The genie gazed at it and then sighed wearily.
‘Don’t rush me,’ I said.
I racked my brains for something I really wanted – which would have been a lot easier without a mean genie huffing and puffing impatiently.
It was then that I saw Mrs Snip through the windows of the double doors. She was at the other end of the corridor and heading in my direction. The look on her face was very fierce.
‘I wish I wasn’t in trouble!’ I blurted out.
The genie clicked his fingers, and then frowned at the dull-sounding click.
‘You’re not in trouble,’ he said. ‘I can’t undo something that isn’t there.’
‘Is this another trick?’ I asked, because the look on Mrs Snip’s face as she approached the doors said I was in a lot of trouble indeed. Then I saw the fish and panicked again. ‘Get rid of the fish!’
‘Done!’ said the genie, and with a sharp click the fish immediately vanished. ‘Now I’ve granted three wishes, I’m out of here!’ he added, folding his arms across his chest and staring with purpose at the lamp.
‘Where are you going?’ I gasped.
‘Back inside my lamp, of course!’ said the genie.
‘But you said the lamp was a terrible prison!’
‘Ah, that was a bit of a fib too. It’s actually a palace, with satin cushions and gold plates and servants,’ said the genie. ‘And best of all there are no angry teachers to tell you what to do.’
‘Can I come?’ I said.
‘No room, sorry!’ and with this the genie nodded and dissolved into a cloud of orange smoke. The smoke whirled in the air like a mini tornado and snaked its way back inside the lamp.
Just then Mrs Snip burst through the double doors and found me staring at the lamp with my mouth hanging open. As she stormed down the corridor I rubbed the metal frantically with my sleeve.
‘Get back out here!’ I growled.
‘Who are you talking to?’ Mrs Snip demanded, but before I could say anything she waved her question away with a flapping hand.
‘Actually, don’t answer that. I’ve heard all about your wild imagination and I’d hate to see you get into trouble.’
‘But I’m already in trouble,’ I said, thinking Mrs Snip had the memory of a goldfish. ‘For falling asleep in class and telling a fib and saying fractions aren’t fascinating.’
‘Well, you were a bit cheeky,’ chuckled Mrs Snip. Her stern expression vanished like the genie into his lamp and she seemed quite friendly all of a sudden. ‘But you’re not really in trouble. In fact I’m terribly grateful to you.’
‘Uh?’ I said, wondering what she was going on about. Then I did another quick sum in my head and realized I’d worked it out earlier. ‘You sent me to the head teacher so everyone would think you’re strict!’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Mrs Snip sighed guiltily. ‘You see, in my last school I was known as a bit of a softie, and I couldn’t teach properly because no one ever behaved in my classroom.’
‘That’s hard to believe,’ I mumbled.
‘Then it worked!’ gasped Mrs Snip, looking very relieved.
‘But you sent me to the head teacher!’ I said, thinking Mrs Snip might be as slippery as the genie and his slimy fishes. ‘I would have been in REAL trouble if Mr Barton had seen me!’
‘Oh, don’t worry. I knew the head teacher was in a meeting all morning.’ Mrs Snip smiled reassuringly. ‘I never would have sent you here if I thought you’d be punished, and I didn’t think you’d mind missing a bit of the lesson.’
‘Mrs Price made me clean the trophies,’ I grumbled.
‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs Snip, shifting uncomfortably. ‘That’s very unfortunate.’
‘So I’m not in trouble?’ I said, placing the lamp back inside the trophy case and closing the glass door. ‘Even though I fell asleep and fibbed and said fractions weren’t fascinating?’
‘Not if you agree to return to class with a very sorry look on your face, and promise to keep my secret,’ she said hopefully, holding out a hand to shake. ‘Do we have a deal?’
I thought about it for a moment and decided that being the only kid who knew Mrs Snip was a big softie was a pretty cool position to be in, and might come in handy next time I fell asleep in maths class.
‘A week?’ said Mrs Snip. ‘And I promise to make the maths more interesting.’
‘Deal!’ I said, shaking her hand firmly.
‘Now tell me, Jake,’ said Mrs Snip, waving her hand in front of her nose as we walked back down the corridor. ‘Does this school always smell of rotten haddock?’
‘Only when something fishy is going on,’ I said.
Jake Cake: The Pirate Curse Page 3