Invisible Stanley Read online

  FLAT STANLEY

  Invisible Stanley

  by Jeff Brown

  Pictures by Macky Pamintuan

  For Robert Brown

  –J.B.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1. Where Is Stanley?

  2. Dr. Dan

  3. The First Days

  4. In the Park

  5. The TV Show

  6. The Bank Robbers

  7. Arthur’s Storm

  The Call

  About the Author

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Prologue

  Stanley Lambchop spoke into the darkness above his bed. “I can’t sleep. It’s the rain, I think.”

  There was no response from the bed across the room.

  “I’m hungry, too,” Stanley said. “Are you awake, Arthur?”

  “I am now,” said his younger brother. “You woke me.”

  Stanley fetched an apple from the kitchen and ate it by the bedroom window. The rain had worsened.

  “I’m still hungry,” he said.

  “Raisins … shelf …” murmured Arthur, half asleep again.

  Crash! came thunder. Lightning flashed.

  Stanley found the little box of raisins on a shelf by the window. He ate one.

  Crash! Flash!

  Stanley ate more raisins.

  Crash! Flash!

  Arthur yawned. “Go to bed. You can’t be hungry still.”

  “I’m not, actually.” Stanley got back into bed. “But I feel sort of … oh, different, I guess.”

  He slept.

  Where Is Stanley?

  “Breakfast is ready, George. We must wake the boys,” Mrs. Lambchop said to her husband.

  Just then, Arthur Lambchop called from the bedroom he shared with his brother.

  “Hey! Come here! Hey!”

  Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop smiled, recalling another morning that hadbegun like this. An enormous bulletin board, they discovered, had fallen on Stanley during the night, leaving him unhurt but no more than half an inch thick. And so he had remained until Arthur blew him round again, weeks later, with a bicycle pump.

  “Hey!” The call came again. “Are you coming? Hey!”

  Mrs. Lambchop held firm views about good manners and correct speech. “Hay is for horses, not people, Arthur,” she said as they entered the bedroom. “As well you know.”

  “Excuse me,” said Arthur. “The thing is, I can hear Stanley, but I can’t find him!”

  Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop looked about the room. A shape was visible beneath the covers of Stanley’s bed, and the pillow was squashed down, as if a head rested upon it. But there was no head.

  “Why are you staring?” The voice was Stanley’s.

  Smiling, Mr. Lambchop looked under the bed but saw only a pair of slippers and an old tennis ball. “Not here,” he said.

  Arthur put out a hand, exploring. “Ouch!” said Stanley’s voice. “You poked my nose!”

  Arthur gasped.

  Mrs. Lambchop stepped forward. “If I may …?” Gently, using both hands, she felt about.

  A giggle rose from the bed. “That tickles!”

  “Oh, my!” said Mrs. Lambchop. She looked at Mr. Lambchop and he at her, as they had during past great surprises. Stanley’s flatness had been the first of these. Another had come the evening they discovered a young genie, Prince Haraz, in the bedroom with Stanley and Arthur, who had accidentally summoned him from a lamp.

  Mrs. Lambchop drew a deep breath. “We must face facts, George. Stanley is now invisible.”

  “You’re right!” said a startled voice from the bed. “I can’t see my feet! Or my pajamas!”

  “Darnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Mr. Lambchop. “Or not seen, I should say. Try some other pajamas, Stanley.”

  Stanley got out of bed and put on different pajamas, but these too vanished, reappearing only when he took them off. It was the same with the shirt and trousers he tried on next. “Gracious!” Mrs. Lambchop

  “I know!” said Arthur. Untying a small red balloon, a party favor, that floated above his bed, he gave Stanley the string to hold. “Try this,” he said.

  The string vanished, but not the balloon.

  “There!” said Mrs. Lambchop. “At least we can tell, approximately, where Stanley is. Now let’s all have breakfast. Then, George, we must see what Dr. Dan makes of this.”

  Dr. Dan

  “What’s that red balloon doing here?” asked Dr. Dan. “Well, never mind. Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop. Something about Stanley, my nurse says. He’s not been taken flat again?”

  “No, no,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “Stanley has remained round.”

  “They mostly do,” said Dr. Dan. “Well, let’s have the little fellow in.”

  “I am in,” said Stanley, standing directly before him. “Holding the balloon.”

  “Ha, ha, Mr. Lambchop!” said Dr. Dan. “You are an excellent ventriloquist! But I see through your little joke!”

  “What you see through,” said Mr. Lambchop, “is Stanley.”

  “Beg pardon?” said Dr. Dan. &

  “Stanley became invisible during the night,” Mrs. Lambchop explained. “We are quite unsettled by it.”

  “Headache?” Dr. Dan asked Stanley’s balloon. “Throat sore? Stomach upset?”

  “I feel fine,” Stanley said.

  “I see. Hmmmm …” Dr. Dan shook his head. “Frankly, despite my long years of practice, I’ve not run into this before. But one of my excellent medical books.

  Difficult and Peculiar Cases by Dr. Franz Gemeister, may help.”

  He took a large book from the shelf behind him and looked into it.

  “Ah! ‘Disappearances,’ page 134.” He found the page. “Hmmmm … Not much here, I’m afraid. France, 1851: a Madame Poulenc vanished while eating bananas in the rain. Spain, 1923: the Gonzales twins, age eleven, became invisible after eating fruit salad. Lightning had been observed. The most recent case, in 1968, is Oombok, an Eskimo chief, last seen eating canned peaches during a blizzard.”

  Dr. Dan returned the book to the shelf.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Gemeister suspects a connection between bad weather and fruit.”

  “It stormed last night,” said Stanley. “And I ate an apple. Raisins, too.”

  “There you are,” said Dr. Dan. “But we must look on the bright side, Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop. Stanley seems perfectly healthy, except for the visibility factor. We’ll just keep an eye on him.”

  “Easier said than done,” said Mr. Lambchop. “Why do his clothes also disappear?”

  “Not my field, I’m afraid,” said Dr. Dan. “I suggest a textile specialist.”

  “We’ve kept you long enough, Doctor,” Mrs. Lambchop said. “Come, George, Stanley—Where are you, Stanley? Ah! Just hold the balloon a bit higher, dear. Good-bye, Dr. Dan.”

  By dinnertime Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop and Arthur had become quite sad. The red balloon, though useful in locating Stanley, kept reminding them of how much they missed his dear face and smile.

  But after dinner Mrs. Lambchop, who was artistically talented, replaced the red balloon with a pretty white one and got out her watercolor paints. Using four colors and several delicate brushes, she painted an excellent likeness of Stanley, smiling, on the white balloon.

  Everyone became at once more cheerful. Stanley said he felt almost his old self again, especially when he looked in the mirror.

  The First Days

  The next morning Mrs. Lambchop wrote a note to Stanley’s teacher, tied a stronger string to his balloon, and sent him off to school.

  “Dear Miss Benchley,” the note said. “Stanley has unexpectedly become invisible. You will find the balloon a useful guide to his
presence. Sincerely, Harriet Lambchop.”

  Miss Benchley spoke to the class. “We must not stare at where we suppose Stanley to be,” she said. “Or gossip about his state.”

  Nevertheless, word soon reached a newspaper. A reporter visited the school and his story appeared the next day.

  The headline read: SMILING STUDENT: “ONCE YOU SAW HIM, NOW YOU DON’T!” Beneath it were two photographs, a Before and an After.

  The Before, taken by Miss Benchley a week earlier, showed a smiling Stanley at his desk. The After, taken by the reporter, showed only Stanley’s desk and his smiley-face balloon bobbing above it. The story included a statement by Miss Benchley that Stanley was in fact at the desk and, to the best of her knowledge, smiling.

  Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop bought several copies of the paper for out-of-town friends. Her colorful balloon artwork lost something in black and white, Mrs. Lambchop said, but on the whole it had photographed well.

  Arthur said that “Invisible Boy’s Brother” would have been an interesting picture, and that Stanley should suggest it if the reporter came around again.

  * * *

  Being invisible offered temptations, Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop warned, but Stanley must resist them. It would be wrong to spy on people, for example, or sneak up on them to hear what they were saying.

  But the next Saturday afternoon, when the Lambchops went to the movies, it was Arthur who could not resist.

  “Don’t buy a seat for Stanley,” he whispered at the ticket window. “Just hide his balloon. Who’d know?”

  “That would be deceitful, dear,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “Four seats, please,” she told the ticket lady. “We want one for our coats, you see.”

  “Wasn’t that deceitful, sort of?” Arthur asked as they went in.

  “Not in the same way,” said Mr. Lambchop, tucking Stanley’s balloon beneath his seat.

  Just as the film began, a very tall man sat directly in front of Stanley, blocking his view. Mr. Lambchop took Stanley on his lap, from which the screen was easily seen, and the people farther back saw right through him without knowing it. Stanley greatly enjoyed the show.

  “See?” said Arthur as they went out. “Stanley didn’t even need a seat.”

  “You have a point,” said Mr. Lambchop, whose legs had gone to sleep.

  In the Park

  It was Sunday afternoon. Arthur had gone to visit a friend, so Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop set out with Stanley for a nearby park. The streets were crowded, and Stanley carried his balloon to lessen the risk of being jostled by people hurrying by.

  Near the park they met Ralph Jones, an old college friend of Mr. Lambchop’s.

  “Always a treat running into your family, George!” said Mr. Jones. “The older boy was flat once, I recall. You had him rolled up. And once you had a foreign lad with you. A prince, yes?”

  “What a memory you have!” said Mr. Lambchop, recalling the young genie who had been with them at the time.

  “How are you, Ralph?” said Mrs. Lambchop. “Stanley? Say hello to Mr. Jones.”

  “Take care!” said Mr. Jones. “That balloon is floating—hmmmm … Just where is Stanley?”

  “Holding the balloon,” Stanley said. “I got invisible somehow.”

  “Is that so? First flat, now invisible.” Ralph Jones shook his head. “Kids! Always one thing or another, eh, George? My oldest needs dental work. Well, I must run! Remember me to that prince. Prince Fawzi Mustafa Aslan Mirza Melek Namerd Haraz, as I recall.”

  “A truly remarkable memory,” said Mrs. Lambchop as Mr. Jones walked away.

  By a field in the park, the Lambchops found a bench on which to rest.

  On the field, children were racing bicycles, round and round. Suddenly, shouts rose. “Give up, Billy! … Billy’s no good! … Billy, Billy, silly Billy, he can’t ride a bike!”

  “That must be Billy,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “The little fellow so far behind the rest. Oh, dear! How he teeters!”

  Stanley remembered how nervous he had been when he was learning to ride and how his father had steadied him. Poor Billy! If only … I’ll do it! he thought, and tied his balloon to the bench.

  When Billy came round again, Stanley darted onto the field. Taking hold of the teetering bicycle from behind, he began to run.

  “Uh-oh!” said little Billy, surprised to be gaining speed.

  Stanley ran harder, keeping the bicycle steady. The pedals rose and fell, faster and faster, then faster still.

  “Yikes!” cried Billy.

  Stanley ran as fast as he could. Soon they passed the boy riding just ahead, then another boy and another! Not until they had passed all the other riders did Stanley, now out of breath, let go.

  “Wheeee!” Billy shouted, and went round once more by himself.

  “You win, Billy!” shouted the other boys. “How did you get so good? … And so suddenly! … You sure had us fooled!”

  Stanley got his breath back and returned to Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop on the bench.

  “Too bad you missed it, Stanley,” said Mr. Lambchop, pretending he had not guessed the truth. “That teetery little boy—he rode very well suddenly.”

  “Oh?” said Stanley, pretending also. “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess.”

  Mr. Lambchop gave him a little poke in the ribs.

  Half an hour passed, and Mrs. Lambchop worried that they might be sitting too long in the sun. In Stanley’s present state, she said, over-tanning would be difficult to detect.

  Just then, a young man and a pretty girl strolled past, hand in hand, and halted in a grove of trees close by.

  “That is Phillip, the son of my dear friend Mrs. Hodgson,” Mrs. Lambchop said. “And the girl must be his sweetheart, Lucia. Such a sad story! They are in love and Phillip wants very much to propose marriage. But he is too shy. He tries and tries, Mrs. Hodgson says, but each time his courage fails. And Lucia is too timid to coax the proposal from him.”

  Mr. Lambchop was not the least bit shy. “I’ll go introduce myself,” he said. “And pop the question for him.”

  “No, George.” Mrs. Lambchop shook her head. “Lucia must hear the words from Phillip’s own lips.”

  An idea came to Stanley.

  “Be right back!” he said, and ran to the grove in which the young couple stood. Once beside them, he stood very still.

  “… nice day, Lucia, don’t you think?” Phillip was saying. “Though they say it may rain. Who knows?”

  “You are quite right, I’m sure, Phillip,” the girl replied. “I do value your opinions about the weather.”

  “You are kind, very kind.” Phillip trembled a bit. “Lucia, I want to ask … I mean … Would you … Consent, that is …” He gulped. “What a pretty dress you have on!”

  “Thank you,” said Lucia. “I like your necktie. You were saying, Phillip?”

  “Ah!” said Phillip. “Right! Yes! For some time now, dear Lucia … My dearest wish … Oh, my! I want …” He bit his lip. “Look! A dark cloud, there in the west! It may rain after all.”

  “I hope not.” Lucia seemed close to tears. “I mean, if it rained … Well, we might get wet.”

  This is very boring, Stanley thought.

  The conversation grew even more boring. Again and again Phillip failed to declare his love, chattering instead about the weather, or the look of a tree, or children playing in the park.

  “I want to ask, dear Lucia,” Phillip began again for perhaps the twentieth time, “if you will … That is … If you … If …”

  “Yes?” said Lucia, also perhaps for the twentieth time. “What, Phillip? What do you wish to say?”

  Stanley leaned forward.

  “Lucia …?” said Phillip. “Hmmm … Ah! I …”

  “Marry me!” said Stanley, making his voice as much like Phillip’s as he could.

  Lucia’s eyes opened wide. “I will, Phillip!” she cried. “Of course I will marry you!”

  Phillip looked as if he might faint. “What? Did I—? You will?”
<
br />   Lucia hugged him, and they kissed.

  “I’ve proposed at last!” cried Phillip. “I can hardly believe I spoke the words!”

  You didn’t, Stanley thought.

  Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop had seen the lovers embrace. “Well done, Stanley!” they said when he returned to their bench, and several more times on the way home.

  Mrs. Hodgson called that evening to report that Phillip and Lucia would soon be wed. How wonderful! Mrs. Lambchop said. She had glimpsed them in the park just that afternoon. Such a handsome pair! So much in love!

  Stanley teased her. “You said never to sneak up on people or spy on them. But I did today. Are you mad at me?”

  “Oh, very angry,” said Mrs. Lambchop, and kissed the top of his head.

  The TV Show

  Arthur was feeling left out. “Stanley always gets to have interesting adventures,” he said. “And that newspaper story was just about him. Nobody seems interested in me.”

  “The best way to draw attention, dear,” said Mrs. Lambchop, “is by one’s character. Be kindly. And fair. Cheerfulness is much admired, as is wit.”

  “I can’t manage all that,” said Arthur.

  Mrs. Lambchop spoke privately to Stanley. “Your brother is a bit jealous,” she said.

  “When I was flat, Arthur was jealous because people stared at me,” Stanley said. “Now they can’t see me at all, and he’s jealous again.”

  Mrs. Lambchop sighed. “If you can find a way to cheer him, do.”

  The very next day an important TV person telephoned Mr. Lambchop.

  “Teddy Talker here, Lambchop,” he said. “Host of the enormously popular TV show, Talking with Teddy Talker. Will Stanley appear on it?”

  “It would please us to have Stanley appear anywhere at all,” Mr. Lambchop said. “People can’t see him, you know.”