Invisible Stanley

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 had begun like this. An enormous bulletin board, they had 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!’ a 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 summoned him accidentally 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 pyjamas!’

‘Darndest thing I’ve ever seen,’ said Mr Lambchop. ‘Or not seen, I should say. Try some other pyjamas, Stanley.’

Stanley got out of bed, and put on different pyjamas, but these too vanished, reappearing when he took them off. It was the same with the shirt and slacks he tried next.

‘Gracious!’ Mrs Lambchop shook her head. ‘How are we to keep track of you, dear?’

‘I know!’ said Arthur. Untying a small red balloon, a party favour, 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 Doctor Dan makes of this.’

Doctor Dan

‘What’s that red balloon doing here?’ said Doctor 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 Doctor 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 Doctor 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 Doctor Dan.

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

‘Head ache?’ Doctor Dan asked Stanley’s balloon. ‘Throat sore? Stomach upset?’

‘I feel fine,’ Stanley said.

‘I see. Hmmmm . . .’ Doctor 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 Doctor 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, aged 11, became invisible after eating fruit salad. Lightning had been observed. The most recent case, 1968, is Oombok, an Eskimo chief, last seen eating canned peaches during a blizzard.’

Doctor Dan returned the book to the shelf.

‘That’s all,’ 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 Doctor Dan. ‘But we must look at 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 Doctor 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. Goodbye, Doctor Dan.’

By dinner time, 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 watercolour paints. Using four colours 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.