The US Capital Commotion (4 page)

“Oh no,” Stanley whispered.

His fingers slipped from the stone, and Stanley Lambchop flew through the sky like a shot.

A half mile away, Stanley’s back slammed into the dome of the Capitol with a slap. The wind was knocked out of him. For a moment, he could not even open his eyes.

When he did, there were two men in black crouched over him. Stanley sat up fast, and the side of his head smacked one of them in the nose.

“Ouch!” the man cried.

The other one held up a badge.

“Secret Service. The president wants to see you,” the man panted.

“You mean you’re not kidnappers?” said Stanley.

The men shook their heads.

“You’re the good guys?” Stanley said blankly.

The men nodded.

Stanley flopped back down on his back. “Oops,” he croaked.

Stanley waited nervously in the Oval Office. At the other end of the room was a big, empty wooden desk, surrounded by windows. A portrait of George Washington looked down at him disapprovingly.

Through a side door, a woman came in carrying a tray.

She turned to face Stanley, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was the president herself!

“Hi there, Stanley,” she said, as if they were neighbors. “You like Mexican food, don’t you?”

She put the tray down on a little table in front of a white couch, sat down, scooped some salsa onto a tortilla chip, and popped it into her mouth. She patted the seat beside her.

Stanley didn’t move.

“Stanley, the president of the United States just invited you to have a nacho with her.”

Stanley quickly sat down. He carefully took a chip and placed it in his mouth.

“Nothing works up the appetite like evading the Secret Service, huh?” the president said.

Stanley swallowed. He looked at his feet awkwardly and shrugged.

“You know, it was I who decided to give you the National Medal of Achievement, Stanley,” said the president. “It’s quite an honor. I thought you really deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re someone we can all look up to,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You mean because I’m flat?” said Stanley glumly.

“No,” replied the president. “Because you use what’s different about you to make people all over the world realize what they have in common,” she said. “You’ve traveled the globe, showing people that when they have the freedom to be different, they can achieve amazing things.”

Stanley felt himself blushing. “I haven’t done anything amazing.”

The president raised her eyebrows. “Stanley, I’m the president of the United States of America. I’ve met a lot of people who have done a lot of important things. But I don’t know anyone who has saved Mount Rushmore, foiled an Egyptian antiquities thief, practiced martial arts in Japan, gone over the Canadian side of Niagara Falls without a barrel, walked across Mexico, unearthed an archaeological fraud in Africa, performed with the Flying Chinese Wonders, flown unaided across Australia—and, as of an hour ago, flapped like a flag hanging off the top of the Washington Monument while the entire world watched, glued to their televisions.”

Stanley smiled. “That does sound like a lot,” he admitted.

“Yes, it does,” the president agreed.

Stanley munched some more tortilla chips.

“I do have one question I have been meaning to ask you,” the president said. Her face became very serious. “I want you to tell me: What is La Abuela’s secret ingredient?”

Stanley swallowed hard. With help from the great matador Carmen del Junco, he had traveled across Mexico to discover the famous secret ingredient in La Abuela’s cooking. He had sworn he would never reveal it to anyone.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a secret.”

The president nodded thoughtfully. “That’s what a hero might say.” She rose and walked toward the door that Stanley had entered from. She turned back to him. “As long as you always remember La Abuela’s secret, Stanley, and hold it close to your heart, you’ll be fine.” She winked.

Stanley thought back to what he had learned in Mexico:
The secret is not the ingredient. It is what you do with it
.

The president looked deep into his eyes, as if to say,
That’s why you’re here, Stanley. Because of what you do with it
.

But how did she know?

“There are some folks who have been very worried about you,” the president said.

She swung open the doors, and Stanley saw the group of people waiting outside. For a moment, he was speechless. Then he ran up and wrapped his body around each of them, one by one.

The following night, at the famous Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, all of those who had traveled to Washington gathered to honor Stanley Lambchop, the youngest and flattest recipient of the National Medal of Achievement in history.

Stanley stood in a special section of seats above the audience, surrounded by his mother, father, Arthur, and the president herself. He wore a tuxedo crafted by the president’s tailor, which made him feel like a special present wrapped in a very thin box. Around his neck, on a red, white, and blue–striped ribbon, hung a bronze medallion: the National Medal of Achievement.

When the orchestra finished playing the National Anthem, everyone took their seats. The governor made some brief remarks, and then a girl in a plaid shirt, blue jeans, and a cowboy hat sauntered onto the empty stage. She carried a ukulele.

“My name is Calamity Jasper from the Black Hills of South Dakota,” she said into the microphone. “I met Stanley on Mount Rushmore the day he saved Abraham Lincoln’s face from cracking off. I’m real proud of him here tonight. This song is for you, cowpoke.”

She gave a few strums of her ukulele and began singing in a sweet, warbling voice. The tune was “You Are My Sunshine,” but she changed the lyrics to “You are our flat boy, our only flat boy.” She received a standing ovation.

Mr. O. Jay Dart, the Lambchops’ neighbor and the director of the National Historical Museum, appeared onstage. In great detail, he told the story of how Stanley had caught sneak thieves red-handed in his museum. An enormous screen descended at the back of the stage, and on it was projected a grainy security photograph from that night, clearly showing Stanley dressed as a shepherd girl hiding in a painting. Stanley tried to laugh even though he was embarrassed.

Amisi, the girl who had opened his envelope in Egypt and who had inspired Stanley with her intelligence and sense of justice, recited a beautiful Sufi poem.

Mountie Martin, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, showed an instant replay of Stanley coiled into a hockey puck, whipping past an NHL goalie to score an impossible goal.

Captain Tony, the African pilot and police officer, stood onstage with his arms around his children, Bisa and Odinga, and told of how Stanley had jumped from his plane with nothing but his body for a parachute.

The billionaire Billy Wallaby stood with his long-lost brother, Wally Wallaby, and spoke stirringly about how Stanley had reminded them of the spirit of brotherhood.

Oda Nobu, the big Japanese movie star, took the stage. “Hello, Stanleysan,” he said. “You once did me the honor of traveling to Japan, because you said you were a great fan. I am here to return the favor.” A great ream of paper was rolled onto the stage, and Oda Nobu tore off a gigantic sheet that was taller and wider than he was. With great speed and grace, he turned, folded, and flipped the paper this way and that—until suddenly, with a flourish, he held up an origami masterpiece shaped exactly like Stanley in real life!

A tall, dark-haired woman appeared behind Oda Nobu and held out her slender hand. “I’ll take that,” the great Mexican matador Carmen del Junco said with a sly smile, whisking the intricately folded paper into the air. She swung and swooped the paper Stanley like a matador’s cape in grand, dramatic arcs. It was a beautiful performance.

Yin and Yang, the Flying Chinese Wonders, thanked Stanley for teaching them the secret of balance. They transformed their bodies into a map of the United States, with a fireworks display occurring over it.

As he clapped, Stanley turned excitedly to his brother—but he wasn’t there. “Where’s Arthur?” he whispered.

At that moment, he was surprised to see Arthur shuffling across the stage.