Flat Stanley's Worldwide Adventures #11 (2 page)

Hello
,
Please
, and
Thank You

In an empty airplane hangar, Mr. Dart stood holding a floppy hat with a fur brim and a shirt with puffy sleeves. “While in France, you will be disguised as a member of King Francis I's court, as painted by the magnificent Renaissance painter Jean Clouet,” he told Stanley.

Stanley blinked. “You mean I have to change
now
?”

“I'm afraid so,” Mr. Dart said, handing Stanley the hat and shirt. “The only way to keep your arrival secret is for you to travel like any other priceless work of art.”

Stanley changed his clothes, and a makeup artist powdered his skin and attached a beard on his face. When he was finally ready, Stanley climbed inside the frame. Because it was only a portrait from the waist up, he had to fold his legs behind the canvas.

Mr. Dart stepped back and looked Stanley over. “Clouet painted all the most important people in France during the early sixteenth century,” he said. “But if I do say so myself, this may be his best work.”

Mr. Dart carefully lifted Stanley's frame and laid it in a wooden crate. The crate had airholes and was filled with shredded paper for comfort. “Your mother has sent a cheese sandwich, some celery sticks, a bag of pretzels, and a juice box for your trip,” he said, placing a small bag in Stanley's hand. “Also, here is a French dictionary and a book light. Good luck, Stanley.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dart.”

Then Mr. Dart closed the crate tightly, and Stanley's adventure began.

It was a little bumpy when Stanley was loaded onto the plane, but then the crate came to a rest. Soon he heard the roar of the airplane's engines, and everything tilted upward. The plane had taken off.

Stanley switched on the book light and opened the French dictionary. He heard his mother's voice in his head. “The three most important phrases in any language are
hello
,
please
, and
thank you
,” she had once told him. “A polite visitor is a welcome one.”

Stanley turned to the
H
s and found the word
hello.
He already knew that one:
bonjour.

Please
was harder. Stanley frowned. The French phrase seemed like a strange jumble of letters:
s'il vous plaît.
Was it “sill vows plate”? But then he read that it was pronounced quite simply: “see voo play.” “See voo play,” Stanley repeated.

And finally
thank you. “Merci
,” Stanley said, stressing the “ee” sound on the end.

“Bonjour, s'il vous plaît, merci
,” Stanley said over and over, until he became very sleepy.

Stanley awoke with a jolt as the plane touched down on the runway. Before long he heard French voices and was suddenly jostled around as the crate was lifted and carried off the plane. After a few minutes—and a bumpy ride—the crate was set down again.

The top was pried off, and Stanley squinted in a sudden glare of morning light coming in through the window. He was in a bare room at the airport. Staring down at him was an officer in uniform.

“Bonjour
!
” Stanley said brightly.

The officer jumped. “The art, it talks!” He gasped, staggering backward.

Agent Lunette stepped in front of the man.

“Bonjour
, Monsieur Lambchop,” Agent Lunette said. “Please excuse my associate. He has never seen a painting like you before.” He shook Stanley's hand.

Aunt Simone muscled Agent Lunette aside. “Stanley!” She bent down and kissed Stanley on one cheek and the other.

“Bonjour
, Aunt Simone!” said Stanley. “Will you help me out of my frame,
s'il vous plaît
?”

His aunt carefully slid him out of his frame and stood him on solid ground.

“Merci!”
Stanley said, happy to have used his third French phrase. But all of a sudden his legs felt funny, and he slumped to the floor.

“What is wrong?” Aunt Simone shrieked.

“My legs must have fallen asleep,” Stanley said. “I've had them folded behind me for the whole trip. I just need to bend them back and forth for a minute, and then I'll be able to stand up.”

Aunt Simone looked horrified. “This is how you welcome your guests?” she said to Agent Lunette as Stanley stretched. “By putting them in a box until they turn to mush?”

“Madame,” said Agent Lunette. “We had to transport Monsieur Lambchop in this way to keep his mission a secret.”

Aunt Simone wagged her finger. “It is against the Rights of Man! It is a crime!”

“Non!
” Agent Lunette protested.

“Oui!
” Aunt Simone said.

Stanley sprang up in between his aunt and Agent Lunette.
“S'il vous plaît!
” he said. His legs were awake now. “I'm okay. Really.”

They glared at each other over Stanley's head. Then his aunt turned away in a huff.

“The Louvre opens in a few hours,” Agent Lunette said, recovering his composure. “We have prepared breakfast for you here, and then we will depart for the museum.”

“Merci
,” Stanley said. “I'm starving!”

“Madame, will you join us?” Agent Lunette said, turning toward Aunt Simone.

Aunt Simone scowled at him then slowly nodded, reluctantly following them into the next room. There was a small table set with a white tablecloth. At each place setting was a plate with several rolls of different shapes and sizes, a boiled egg in a small cup, and a glass of orange juice. In the center was a bowl of fresh fruit, a vase of flowers, and crystal salt and pepper shakers.

After sitting down and putting his napkin on his lap, just as his mother had taught him, Stanley took a rectangular roll and bit into it. It was warm and light and buttery and sweet all at the same time—and in the center was a pocket of gooey chocolate.

Stanley closed his eyes and slumped back against his chair. It was the most marvelous thing he'd ever eaten—except, perhaps, for La Abuela's secret ingredient, which he'd learned how to prepare in Mexico.

“What
is
this?” said Stanley in a daze.

“Pain au chocolat
,” Aunt Simone said. “Bread with chocolate.”

“It's so delicious,” cooed Stanley.

Agent Lunette and Aunt Simone exchanged small smiles.

“This is France,” Aunt Simone said. “Everything is delicious.”

Hanging in the Louvre

After breakfast it was time for Stanley to climb back into his painting. Agent Lunette repacked him in his crate, but at Aunt Simone's insistence, the top of the crate was only gently shut. This meant Stanley was able to raise the lid a tiny bit and peek out as Agent Lunette and the other officer carried him toward the Louvre.

They were walking by a giant modern glass pyramid in the courtyard of a very large, old, important-looking building.

“The Louvre is one of the greatest art museums in the world,” Agent Lunette said in a low voice. “More than eight million people from all over the globe visit each year.”

They passed by a line of security guards and entered the building.

“The thieves have targeted the finest museums in Paris. Centre Georges Pompidou. Musée d'Orsay. One after the other, their most famous paintings have been stolen in broad daylight, during museum hours.”

“But how?” Stanley whispered as they passed a statue of a sphinx the size of a lion. Now they were walking past a series of mummies. Stanley hadn't seen one of those since he'd been to Egypt.