games.”

“Goody!” Molly clapped her hands. “I like games.”

Immediately, Baloo and Rebecca stopped in their tracks and whirled around to face each other.

In a sickly-sweet voice, Baloo asked, “Did you want somethin’, snookie-ookums?”

“Snookie-ookums?” Kit and Molly cried in unison.

The genie rocked with laughter on top of his lamp.

“Yes, jelly-elly roll, I wanted to go over these expense accounts,” Rebecca replied sappily.

“Jelly-elly roll? Ugh!” Molly wrinkled up her nose.

“Anythin’ ya want, poogie-woo,” said Baloo, throwing an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “I loooove goin’ over expense accounts, especially with you, sugar bowl.”

“They could make a fish sea sick.” Kit clutched his stomach.

“That wasn’t very nice, Marty. Change them back,” said Wildcat, frowning.

“Yeah, we like it better when they fight,” said Kit as he watched Baloo and Rebecca spoon-feed each other ice cream. “I just lost my appetite.”

“But this is much more amusing.” Marty grinned slyly.

“Change Mommy and Baloo back right now!” Molly shouted, stomping her foot.

“Okay, okay. Everyone’s a critic. Try to have a little fun, but nooooo...” With a flick of his wrist, Baloo and Rebecca snapped out of the spell.

“Baloo, what in the world are you doing?” Rebecca mumbled in annoyance. The pilot was holding a spoon in her mouth.

He dropped it like a hot potato. “Nuthin’, snookie-ookums.” Blushing furiously, he corrected, “I mean, Rebecca.”

Tweaking his ear, she said, “We’re going to discuss you expense account, jelly-... Oh, my!” She clamped a paw over her mouth.

Baloo laughed. “See, I’m not the only one, Beckers.”

“Something odd is going on here. And where did this ice cream come from?” She glared at the cubs and Wildcat.

Wildcat hid the lamp behind his back, and the kids smiled at her innocently.

Baffled, Rebecca glanced from the ice cream to Baloo to the cubs and back to the ice cream. Her eyes narrowed as she frowned at her pilot. “What is going on here, Baloo?”

Baloo cracked up at her confused expression.

“Don’t you dare laugh, buster!”

“I’m not, Becky - ha-ha - honest engines - hee-hee-hee.”

“I don’t know what you’re in trouble for, but you’re in trouble!”

After winking at Kit, Molly, and Wildcat, Baloo followed Rebecca into Higher for Hire, trying to stifle his snickers.

Over her shoulder, Rebecca ordered, “Wildcat, stop goofing off and get to work on the engines!”

“A-okily-dokily, Ree-becca.” Wildcat saluted her and bonked himself on the head with the lamp.

“That can’t be it, Wildcat. What about your third wish?” said Kit.

“Guess it’ll hafta wait ‘til sometime else.” The mechanic picked up his tool box and climbed onto the Sea Duck’sstarboard engine. The cubs and Marty watched as he rifled through his tools; he selected a hammer. “Let’s see...the clinkenheimer’s connected to the axle-rod, the axle-rod’s connected to the camshaft.” Wildcat pounded a couple of times on the engine. “What’s that, Larry?” He held the hammer up to his ear. “Wish I could understand what you’re saying.”

“Your final wish is granted, master. At last I can get back to my tennis game!” Marty dove back into the lamp’s spout.

Larry the hammer cried, “Hey, you! Stop beating my head against that thing. You’re giving me a pounding headache.”

“Well, beg my pardon, Larry. I’ll just put you back to beddy-bye.” Perplexed, Wildcat placed the hammer back in the tool box.

“Do I have to live with all of these gadgets? The screwdriver’s a little screwy, and the bolts have nuts for friends!” complained the hammer.

Wildcat stared at the hammer, dazed and confused.

“It’s a little cramped in here, too. Do you ever think about building on?”

Shutting the tool box lid quickly, Wildcat remarked, “I liked Larry better when he wasn’t so loud.”

“Maybe Marty can fix it.” Molly knocked on the lamp.

“Go away!” shouted Marty. “It’s my turn to serve.”

“No, you have to rub it.” Kit picked up the lamp and polished one side with his shirt sleeve.

Marty once again appeared on top of the lamp. “Now what? This had better be good. I’m winning 30-love.”

“I’m the master of the lamp now, aren’t I?” Kit said excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, kid.” Marty rolled his eyes.

Kit turned the lamp over in his hands. It was inconceivable that such a battered old thing held phenomenal cosmic power. But it did. And he was its master. He could have anything that his heart desired. Only one thing came to mind - the thing that he slept, dreamt, and thought about every ten seconds, at least. But he knew that he had to wish for it carefully. No need for his wish to backfire.

Taking a deep breath, the boy blurted out, “Marty, I wish that I had a Lockhead Mega. Make sure that it’s full-sized, not a model.”

“Don’t get many requests for those,” Marty commented from his position on Kit’s shoulder. “Okay, kid.” With one wave of his hand, a dark green, single-engine plane was floating next to the Sea Duck. Its silver trim gleamed brightly. The seaplane, half the size of the Conwing L-16, had a sleek, aerodynamic design.

“Wow!” Kit breathed. He stood there, awestruck. He couldn’t believe that it was really there and that it was really his. He recalled that Flyboy Magazine said it could exceed speeds of 180 mph.

Wildcat and Molly hurried down the dock to take a peek in the cockpit.

“Good wish, Kit!” Molly shouted.

“This thing has more doohickies than my washing machine,” Wildcat added, peering through the open window at all of the dials and knobs on the instrument panel.

With the lamp clutched tightly in his hands, Kit reverently climbed into the cockpit. The interior was as impressive as the exterior. The grey leather seats were well-padded and were adjustable to fit any size person. The instrument panel was made of glossy dark grey plastic. Chrome encircled every flight instrument dial. Light glinted off of the silver and grey steering yoke.

Sinking carefully into the pilot’s chair, Kit ran his eyes around the cockpit eagerly, almost greedily. His very own plane! “I’m gonna take her for a spin,” he told the others, reveling in the feeling of the smooth control yoke between his fingers.

“Oh, boy!” Molly shouted. She started to scramble into the cockpit.

“No!” Kit snapped angrily, startling the little girl. “You can’t come.”

“Why not, Kit?” Molly whined. Frowning, she stepped back down to the dock.

Even Wildcat, standing beside Molly, looked disappointed.

“I want my first flight in my first plane to be solo,” Kit explained.

Molly fixed her skeptical gaze on him, hands on hips. “Don’t you hafta have a pilot’s license to fly?”

Kit shut the door. “Yeah, but, technically, magic genies who grant you three wishes are only make-believe,” he laughed. “I think this can be classified as a special situation.” He rolled up the window to avoid further uncomfortable questions from Wildcat or Molly.

“Are you sure this is wise, kid? How’s about wishing for flying lessons first?” Marty asked, standing atop the instrument panel.

Kit laughed scornfully. “And waste a wish? No way! I know the standard flight manual inside and out, backwards and forwards.”

The engine purred to life.

Marty said, “Yeah, but do you know how to fly?” He securely wrapped the seatbelt around his lamp several times.

Kit flipped a switch. He thought it was to reverse the prop. After all, that was where the switch to reverse the props was located on the Sea Duck. However, the windshield wipers started up. “Hm...” He studied the switches and knobs with a critical eye. Finally, he just flipped switches randomly until he found the one he wanted.

“Sure ya don’t wanna wish for flying lessons? I have an uncle. He’ll give you a good deal. Even teach ya the fancy stuff,” Marty said in desperation as the plane taxied into the harbor.

“Relax. I’ve flown before.” Kit pushed up the throttled. The green plane skimmed over the water’s surface, picking up speed.

“Watch out for that ship!” The genie covered his eyes.

Kit yanked the steering yoke over. The plane skittered sharply to the left, causing a huge spray of water to splash in the faces of those aboard the ship.

“Whoa!” Marty exclaimed, thrown back in his seat with centrifugal force. The plane’s wing missed the ship by mere inches.

Kit bit his lip in concentration and turned the plane around. Before them was a clear runway. Revving the engine, he said, “Let’s see what this baby can do!”

“Oh, no!” Marty yelled as the seaplane skipped on top of the waves. He snapped his fingers to make an airsick bag appear. He promptly buried his head in it.

“Wahoo! I’m flying!” Kit said exultantly as the plane lifted into the sky. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Marty made the airsick bag disappear with a shaky snap of his fingers. His face was a pale shade of green. “Yeah, kid, not,” he gulped, “bad at all.” Looking right at the camera, he said incredulously, “ I’m missing a tennis game for this?”

The plane banked to the right to circle the harbor. But Kit, misjudging the turn, over-steered, sending them lunging towards the ocean. To correct it, the boy yanked the control yoke to the left, but it only made the situation worse. The seaplane went careening -lurching right and left - towards downtown Cape Suzette.

“Oh, man, I wish Baloo was here!” Kit cried as the forest of skyscrapers loomed closer and closer.

“Your second wish is granted.” With a snap of Marty’s fingers, Baloo was in the co-pilot’s seat.

There was only one problem - the big grey bear was sound asleep.

“Baloo! Papa Bear! Wake up!” Kit shouted frantically as he zigzagged between buildings. Cold sweat drizzled down the back of his neck.

But Baloo continued to snore, unfazed.

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