Master Wildcat
Part 2
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 175 yard 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.
The lamp popped out from underneath Baloo's backside. With an annoyed grunt of exertion, Marty also appeared.
"Why won't he wake up?" Kit asked as the wingtips ricocheted off of two buildings. He was fighting with all of his strength just to keep the plane steady. It took all of his concentration to keep them from smacking headlong into a building.
"You wished for him to be here," said Marty complacently, digging his tennis racket out from underneath Baloo. Ruefully, he examined the bent handle and broken strings. "You said nothing about him being conscious."
"Thanks a lot, Marty," Kit spat sarcastically. Dodging buildings, he began to doubt the wisdom of his wish for a plane. Why hadn't he wished for something safe? Like a new bike? Or maybe a homework-completing machine? Or a simple yo-yo? Anything but a plane!
Suddenly, right in front of them, Khan Towers appeared.
"Aahhh!" they both screamed at the top of their lungs.
Kit pulled back hard on the stick. The bottom of the plane's fuselage scraped a long groove in the brick exterior of the building as well as countless windows as it traversed the entire top half of the skyscraper. Baloo continued to snore.
Khan's employees watched the scene out the windows, dumbfounded. When Shere Khan's gigantic window was scratched with a loud, high-pitched SCREECH, the tiger businessman looked up from his multi-billion dollar contract. His face darkened, and he picked up the telephone.
When they finally soared over the tip-top of the building, they heard the sound of police sirens. Two police cruisers were on their tail.
Kit groaned, wiping cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "I don't even have my learner's permit. Miz Cunningham will ground me for life!"
"You still have one wish left," Marty reminded him.
"I don't want to waste it on fixing a building," Kit retorted.
From out of nowhere came a fleet of grey fighter planes - Shere Khan's personal air force. They swarmed the Lockhead Mega like honeybees circling a flower.
"Oh, no! Khan's men!" Kit said. "What else can go wrong?"
At the signal from their commander, Khan's planes swooped over the green seaplane, machine guns blazing.
"Don't say that ever again!" Scared, Marty said, "I suggest landing before you do any more damage." He hopped into Baloo's pocket.
"Me do damage? They're the ones shooting up my plane!"
A line of bullets cut through the control panel dangerously close to Kit's hands.
"I don't know how to dogfight! I can barely keep it steady! BALOO, WAKE UP!"
Baloo mumbled in his sleep and shifted in his chair - but he slept on.
The sirens were getting closer. Over the megaphone, an officer shouted, "You in the green plane, pull over!"
"Okay, fine. We'll land." Kit sighed, turning the plane towards the harbor. Nothing was going as planned anyway. "Now, how do I land again?"
"You don't know how to land?" Marty shrieked.
Kit shook his head. "I've only successfully landed once, and that was with Baloo helping me."
Marty kicked Baloo's arm repeatedly with his tiny foot. "Wake up, fatso!" His high-pitched voice was muffled when the big bear slammed a paw down over him.
Crawling out from under the snoring bear's hand, Marty said dizzily, "He's not only a heavy sleeper, he's heavy!"
Kit racked his brain to remember all of the steps that Baloo performed when he landed the Sea Duck, but the knobs and switches were in different places on the instrument panel and there were more of them. He pushed forward on the stick and pulled back on the throttle. "There's a lot to remember!"
Marty, perched on the control panel, screamed, "If you don't get the nose up, we won't remember anything ever again!" He buried his face in his hands.
The plane dove closer and closer to the ocean. Just before they struck into the water, Kit got the nose up. The Lockhead Mega submerged, then bobbed up like a cork.
"Where are the brakes on this thing?" Kit shouted as a wave engulfed them. He pushed down on every foot pedal there was.
Marty disappeared into the lamp's spout, whimpering.
What happened next seemed like a horrible, slow-motion dream to Kit. Eyes tight shut, he hung onto the control yoke for dear life as the seaplane smashed into the dock in front of Higher for Hire, sending chunks of wood flying. The wood pummeled the Sea Duck, putting big dents in its fuselage The green plane was propelled over the dock, crashed through Higher for Hire's warehouse, splintering it to smithereens. It stopped only when its nose touched Rebecca's desk.
Kit cracked one eye, then the other open. He turned off the engine. He looked, aghast, at the mess he and his new plane had caused.
Baloo awoke. Yawning and stretching, he asked sleepily, "Did I miss somethin'?"
When the dust cleared, Rebecca was coughing and staring at Kit in shocked amazement. Then, she rose from her desk. He had never seen her look so furious.
Rebecca waggled a finger at the boy. She was seething with so much anger that smoke almost billowed from her ears. "GET DOWN HERE, YOUNG MAN! You have a lot of explaining to do! The call I got from Shere Khan about you wrecking his building better be a practical joke! And where did you get that plane? Why were you flying instead of Baloo?"
The wail of police sirens mingled with his boss's ranting made the knot in Kit's stomach tighten.
"Jeepers," Kit murmured, quaking with fear as he opened the cockpit door. "I wish we'd never found this lamp."
"Your third wish has been granted," Marty said. He snapped his tiny fingers.
Everything whirled around.
One fine afternoon in the tropical city of Cape Suzette, Molly Cunningham and Wildcat were rooting through the scrap pile behind Higher for Hire for a spare clinkenheimer part.
"This it?" asked seven-year-old yellow bear cub Molly, holding up a cog.
"Nope," answered Wildcat, a young lion clad in filthy, light blue overalls. "Keep searching, Mollycat."
"How 'bout this?" She showed him a rusty clamp.
"Uh-huh. That's a doohickey. We're looking for a curly, spring-sprongy thingy."
Molly tossed it back, wiped her dirty paws on her blue overalls, and kept on digging.
The mechanic pulled out a spring with a beat-up lamp dangling from it. "Here it is." Getting to his feet, he tossed the lamp aside. "Now, we can make the Sea Duck feel aaaaalllll better."
"Can I help?" Molly begged.
"You betcha." Wildcat handed her a package of bubble gum. "Start chewing, Mollycat."
A puppy trotted around the corner of Higher for Hire.The little brown and white terrier chomped the lamp's handle between its teeth and scampered off to bury its new-found treasure.
Inside the jolting lamp, Marty's voice echoed, "Hey, Fido! Put this thing down! This lamp is not a chew toy! Sit! Heel! Stay! Oh, no, not the tennis court! Heeeeeellllllppp!"
The End