Flat Stanley’s Worldwide Adventures #12: Escape to California

by jeff brown

  Dedication

  For the Real Lily

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Caught in San Francisco

  2. The Redwood Forest

  3. Introducing the Escapist

  4. Silicon Valley

  5. Hollywood, Here We Come

  6. Hitting the Beach

  7. The Great Escape

  8. Sky High

  What You Need to Know about Alcatraz and San Francisco

  Excerpt from Flat Stanley’s Worldwide Adventures #1: The Mount Rushmore Calamity

  1. Ready, Set . . .

  2. Go!

  Back Ad

  About the Authors and Illustrator

  Books by Jeff Brown

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Caught in San Francisco

  The hills in San Francisco were so steep that all the parked cars looked as if they were going to roll away. Stanley Lambchop was climbing the sidewalk alongside his old friend Thomas Anthony Jeffrey, whom the Lambchops were visiting on their family vacation.

  “I can’t believe how much has happened since the last time I saw you,” Stanley said to Thomas as they walked with Stanley’s parents and brother, Arthur, up the hill. “You had just moved to California, and it was my first time traveling by mail. I hadn’t even been flat long enough to get creased!”

  Thomas laughed. “I remember opening your envelope. You smelled like egg salad.”

  Arthur shook his head. “I told you, Mom: Egg salad and milk in the mail is a bad idea!”

  “Are a bad idea,” corrected Stanley’s mother, who was a stickler for good grammar. “I didn’t want Stanley to go hungry. After all, it was his first time away from home!”

  “I remember thinking, California, wow!” Stanley went on. “I’d never traveled so far away. And to think, now I’ve been all over the world.”

  “You have had a lot of excitement,” said Thomas. Then he added playfully, “Though you still kind of smell like egg salad.”

  “I do not!” cried Stanley, cracking up.

  Since the bulletin board over Stanley’s bed had fallen and flattened him, he had been to Egypt, Kenya, France, Australia, and lots of other places—but there was still something nice about exploring a city like San Francisco with his family and a good friend. Thomas had shown them Haight-Ashbury, where everyone seemed to be wearing tie-dye T-shirts, and taken them on an old-fashioned-looking cable car to Union Square, where people in business suits hurried in and out of skyscrapers. Except for the moment at Fisherman’s Wharf when a group of tourists had recognized Stanley and insisted on taking pictures with him, Stanley felt like a regular sightseer. Now they were heading to the Japantown district for dinner.

  As they came to the top of the hill, Stanley suddenly heard a scream. He spun around to see a girl in a wheelchair barreling down the middle of the street.

  “HELP!” the girl shrieked.

  Stanley leaped into action. “Thomas, throw me! Quick!”

  “What?” said Thomas, in shock.

  But then Arthur stepped up, took Stanley’s hands, and launched him into the air like a boomerang.

  “Stanley, don’t!” his father yelled after him. As the wheelchair zoomed past, Stanley caught the back of it with both arms. His body ballooned backward like a parachute, and the wheelchair slowed.

  “I have you!” Stanley reassured the girl.

  But then he felt a tug at his back. His father had caught up and grabbed Stanley’s shirt.

  “Stanley!” Mr. Lambchop gasped. “It’s not safe!”

  “Dad! Let go!” yelled Stanley. “I have this under control!”

  With his father pulling on him, one of Stanley’s hands came loose from the back of the wheelchair, and his body swung backward.

  “Eek!” screeched Mr. Lambchop. Now they were all in trouble. It was as if Mr. Lambchop were hang gliding behind the speeding wheelchair—and Stanley was the glider.

  Now it was Stanley and his father’s turn to scream, “HELP!”

  Suddenly, the wheelchair came to a halt. Stanley shot over the girl’s head, and his father went flying after him.

  They landed with a thunk in the open bay of a cargo van, which was parked at the bottom of the hill. The girl rolled up a ramp into the van after them. She appeared to be in perfect control.

  “Let’s blow this taco stand!” she called to the driver.

  Suddenly the doors swung closed, and the van peeled away.

  The Redwood Forest

  Stanley sat up. The back of the van was bare, except for a complicated-looking set of instruments and television screens on one wall. There were no windows—just a slit at the front, through which Stanley could make out the back of the driver’s head.

  “My name is Lily Fox,” said the girl in the wheelchair. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Lambchop. You’re a hero of mine.”

  “What? Oh, uh, thank you,” stammered Stanley’s father.

  “Actually, I was talking to Stanley,” said Lily.

  All at once, Stanley realized what was happening. “You’re kidnapping me!” he blurted. “Just like my friend Oda Nobu’s fans kidnapped him when I was in Japan!”

  Mr. Lambchop pointed a finger at Lily Fox. “How dare you! Don’t you know it’s impolite to kidnap people?”

  “We’re not kidnapping you,” Lily answered calmly. “You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”

  For the first time, Stanley noticed the wheels on the girl’s wheelchair. They were big, studded, and rugged, like a mountain bike’s tires.

  Stanley got to his feet. “What do you want?”

  Lily Fox wheeled over to the console and pushed some buttons. A grainy black-and-white video flickered to life on one of the screens: It was a street scene with a crowd of people. A boy walked up to a cardboard cutout and shook it roughly.

  Wait a minute, thought Stanley. That’s me and that boy at Fisherman’s Wharf earlier today!

  Stanley’s stomach turned as he remembered the kid’s face. The boy had recognized Stanley as “the famous flat kid.” Without even asking, he had pulled Stanley’s head back and put his chin on Stanley’s shoulders so it looked as though his head was perched atop a flat body. “Quick! Take a picture!” He’d cackled to a friend. Stanley had been too embarrassed to speak. He might as well have been a painted wooden character at a carnival.

  “Stanley, do you ever get tired of people looking at you funny?” asked Lily, bringing him back to the present.

  Stanley sucked in his breath. “Sometimes,” he said.

  On the screen, his head was tucked out of sight as people crowded around and started lining up to have their pictures taken.

  “Do you ever feel as if you’re invisible? Like all that most people can see is that you’re different, and they can’t see anything else?”

  On the screen, Mr. Lambchop shooed everyone away with an angry wag of his finger. In the van, he gently squeezed Stanley’s shoulder.

  Stanley looked at his feet. “Yeah. I guess.”

  The girl pushed a button, and the screen went black. “Then imagine what it’s like being in a wheelchair.”

  Stanley looked at Lily for what felt like the first time. She was a few years older than he was. Her hair was pulled back in a dark ponytail. She looked athletic, and there was something strong about her face. She looked . . . determined.

  With a slight jolt, the van came to a stop. A moment later the driver opened the cargo doors. He was a tall man wearing a tank top, Bermuda shorts, and flip-flops.

  “Welco
me to the Muir Woods,” said the man. “I’m Theo Fox, Lily’s father.”

  “Mr. Fox,” said Stanley’s dad, “I think you and Lily have some explaining to do.”

  “It’s Dr. Fox,” the man corrected. “And that’s why we’re here.”

  Stanley looked around. They were in the middle of a forest . . . except the trees were so much larger than any Stanley had ever seen. Some seemed as big as skyscrapers.

  “These are the redwoods, or Sequoias,” said Dr. Fox. “They’re among the biggest, oldest trees on Earth. We Foxes always come here when we have a big decision to make.”

  “Amazing,” Stanley whispered, gazing up at the trees.

  “Stanley, you said yourself that you’re tired of others judging you by your appearance. I feel the same way. And I think it’s time to change how the world sees people in wheelchairs.”

  Stanley nodded. He knew what she meant. “But how?”

  “By pulling off one of the greatest stunts of all time,” Lily answered matter-of-factly. “I’m going to escape from Alcatraz, without the use of my legs, on live TV.”

  “Alcatraz!” said Mr. Lambchop. “The old prison? Nobody has ever successfully escaped from there! I read about it in my guidebook. It’s perched on a rocky island in the middle of San Francisco Bay, surrounded by shark-infested waters! They call it the Rock.”

  “The one and only,” said Lily.

  Mr. Lambchop shook his head. “But it’s impossible—”

  “You might be surprised by what I can do in my wheelchair,” interrupted Lily. “That’s the whole point!”

  With that, Lily shot forward, her hands spinning both wheels so quickly, they were a blur. Dirt and leaves sprayed behind her. She curved sideways up the base of a giant redwood, and then rolled up the base of another, as if she were moving between a pair of skateboard ramps. Finally she lifted herself out of her wheelchair, spun the chair around, and sat again.

  She came to stop in front of them, with one eyebrow raised as if to say, See?

  “That was incredible!” Stanley cried, clapping. But then he shook his head. “I still don’t understand how I can help you.”

  Lily wheeled up close. “Is it true that you found your way out of a pyramid in Egypt? That you trained with Oda Nobu in Japan and performed with the Flying Chinese Wonders in Beijing?”

  Stanley nodded.

  “Then help me pull off the greatest escape ever,” said Lily.

  Stanley’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes climbed the majestic trees, hundreds of feet into the air, where the sun was sparkling through ancient leaves.

  Finally he turned to his father with a look that said, “Can we?”

  Mr. Lambchop sighed deeply and then cleared his throat. “Get back in the van, everybody,” he said. “This has gone far enough.”

  Lily and Stanley’s faces fell.

  But then his dad winked. “We need to let Mrs. Lambchop, Arthur, and Stanley’s friend Thomas know that they shouldn’t worry. It seems we won’t be joining them again for a few days, at least!”

  Introducing the Escapist

  When he and his father climbed out of the van at the Foxes’ farmhouse a few hours later, Stanley was greeted by a big shaggy dog that bounded up, flattened him to the ground, and licked his face.

  “Sequoia!” a voice called. “Heel!” The dog leaped off of Stanley and sat panting beside him.

  A barefoot woman with curly blond hair and a flowing, brightly colored dress reached for Stanley’s hand, helping him up. “I’m Lily’s mom, Amber,” she said, and turned toward Mr. Lambchop. “And you must be Stanley’s father.”

  “It’s George,” Stanley’s dad replied.

  “Well, I want to thank you both for being part of our little caper.” She threw one arm around Dr. Fox and put her other hand on Lily’s shoulder. “When our Lily sets her mind to something, she never gives up.”

  The Foxes led them up to the farmhouse. After Stanley’s father had called Stanley’s mom to check in, they joined Lily and her parents for dinner around a worn wooden table. There were so many different colors of food, they reminded Stanley of the fruit and vegetable section of the supermarket.

  “We grew most of this here on the farm,” said Amber, serving Stanley some kale slaw. “In fact, if you eat fruits or vegetables back home that are grown in America, chances are they come from California. There’s no place better on Earth.” She rattled off the things on the table: “Artichokes, arugula, asparagus, avocados, basil, beets, broccoli, cantaloupe, carrots, celery, corn, cucumbers, edamame, eggplant, escarole—”

  “Mom,” Lily gently interrupted. “They get the idea.”

  “But I’m only at the letter e!” complained her mother.

  Stanley realized that Amber had been listing foods alphabetically, and he slapped his forehead.

  “That’s something my mom would do! She’s crazy about anything which has to do with language.”

  Amber said, “I think you mean that, not which, Stanley.”

  Stanley and his father both laughed at how much she sounded like Mrs. Lambchop.

  “I don’t know which my mom likes more, vegetables or vowels,” said Lily. “Last summer she attached a plow to the back of my wheelchair so I could help in the fields.”

  Stanley’s father said, “A human plow, huh? I suppose that’s how you got so strong, Lily.”

  Lily said, “I was born strong.”

  After a dessert of fresh blackberries, blueberries, and boysenberries with cream, Dr. Fox said, “Ready to head out to the barn?”

  “I could’ve skipped dinner, I’m so ready,” said Lily.

  Following them to the big barn, Stanley was surprised to find there were no animals. Instead the inside of the barn looked like a spotless, high-tech body shop for fixing up cars—only without the cars. On the wall hung at least a dozen different wheelchairs gleaming like jewels. One looked more like a tiny Formula One racecar, red and white and shiny with a pointed nose. One was clad in a varsity athlete’s uniform, complete with white striped wheels instead of socks. One balanced on what looked like a pair of ice-skating blades instead of wheels, and it hung near a hockey stick with a sawed-off handle. And one looked like the bottom half of a ball gown, with sparkly fabric covering everything but the bottom of the wheels.

  “What kind of a doctor are you, anyway?” Stanley’s father asked.

  “I have a PhD in mechanical engineering,” replied Dr. Fox.

  “And you made all these?” said Stanley.

  “Lily and I designed and built them together,” said Dr. Fox.

  “Which is your favorite?” Stanley asked Lily.

  “Depends on the situation.” She pointed to one that had paddles instead of wheels, and a strange mask sitting on the seat. “The first time I used my scuba chair was pretty awesome.”

  Lily rolled along, stopping in front of the last wheelchair in the bottom row: a sleek little black number.

  “This,” said Lily, “is the Escapist. She’s the lightest wheelchair ever built, weighing in at less than eight pounds. She has fourteen hidden compartments. Each of her wheel spokes is a different kind of tool: mini crowbar. Lockpick. Radio antenna. She’s what we’re riding out of Alcatraz.”

  “Speaking of Alcatraz,” said Dr. Fox as he spread a blueprint of the prison out on a table. The four of them gathered around it.

  “So, you really think you can escape?” Stanley said. “What’s the plan?”

  “The only way in or out of the Rock is by ferry,” Lily said. “So we’ll take the ferry there from Fisherman’s Wharf, just like any other tourists. The prison is a museum now, and we’ll buy tickets for the last tour of the day. We’ll hang at the back of the group until we come to the cell where the gangster Al ‘Scarface’ Capone used to live.”

  Dr. Fox took over. “You and Lily will enter the cell and close the door, locking yourselves inside. You will hide there until the museum closes and the lights in the cellblock go out.”

  “I’ll pic
k the lock of the cell door,” Lily continued. “Stanley, it’s going to be your job to slip between bars and check under doors to make sure the coast is clear. There will be at least one night guard on duty, maybe more. We’ll make our way along this hallway.” Lily’s finger traced a path through the prison. “Then we have to exit through this door to the outside without setting off any alarms. The final stage of the plan—crossing the Bay—will unfold on live TV.”

  “How are you going to get on TV if this is all a secret?” asked Stanley’s father.

  “Let’s just say we know someone in show business,” Dr. Fox answered quickly.

  “Once we get to this point,” continued Lily, “we just have to cross the Bay to the other side. It’s simple.”

  “Simple?” repeated Stanley. “What about the shark-infested waters?!”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “They’re really small sharks. Besides, you’ll be pulling me pretty fast by that point.”

  “I can’t swim that far!” Stanley protested.

  “Why swim,” Lily said, raising an eyebrow, “when a guy like you can fly?”

  Stanley wrinkled his flat forehead. “Huh?”

  But then he noticed his father nodding slowly. “You want Stanley to be your kite,” he said quietly.

  Lilly nodded excitedly. “Exactly.”

  Finally Stanley understood. He’d rise in the air, Lily would hold on to a string attached to him, and he’d pull her across the water.

  “It won’t work,” he said with a shake of his head. “Even if the wind was strong enough, I can’t pull that kind of weight.”

  “We’ve thought of that,” said Dr. Fox. “That’s why we’re taking you to Silicon Valley first thing tomorrow.”

  Silicon Valley

  “It’s the technology capital of America, and maybe even the world. Silicon Valley is where computers were born,” Lily explained to Stanley the next morning. They were riding in the back of the van while their fathers rode up front. “Dad’s best friend owns a company there. He has a whole team of people helping us.”