by jeff brown
“Awesome!” Arthur and Stanley shouted together. Arthur leaped off.
“Good on ya!” cried Bongo.
“Ace!” screamed Sheila.
On the shore, Stanley could see Ms. Perth and Mr. Wallaby pumping their arms in the air.
That afternoon, they went snorkeling on Mr. Wallaby’s yacht.
Stanley adjusted his face mask and snorkel and wiggled each of his feet to make sure his flippers were on tight. He gave Bongo the thumbs-up and jumped off the back of the yacht, following Arthur into the water.
“There’s nothing like the Great Barrier Reef,” Mr. Wallaby had told them. “It’s an underwater kingdom of coral—alive, every bit of it. You’ve been to the Great Wall of China, Stanley. Some people think that’s visible from space, but they’re wrong. The reef is the only structure made by living things that’s grand enough for that.”
A giant green sea turtle swam before Stanley’s eyes. A school of clownfish, with their neon orange and white stripes, darted below.
Stanley pumped his flippers lightly and burst forward through the water. Suddenly, he realized that with his flat shape and his flippers, he could move very quickly. He looked around for Arthur and spotted him in the distance. It took only a few quick pumps of Stanley’s flippers to get to him.
Stanley held out his hand to Arthur and gestured for him to take it.
With a kick of his flippers, Stanley pulled Arthur along behind him, just as Arthur had done for him so many times before. Together, they darted smoothly, effortlessly, just below the surface of the water. Bright coral in a thousand different colors lit the way.
Suddenly, Arthur squeezed Stanley’s hand and gestured to their left. There was a pair of dolphins swimming right next to them!
Stanley reached over with his free hand and pinched his brother.
Arthur glared as if to say, what did you do that for?
Stanley raised his eyebrows, and Arthur’s sudden smile made it clear he understood. Stanley was doing the same thing Arthur had done to him when they’d discovered Mr. Wallaby in their living room.
We’re not dreaming, they both thought.
Walking on the beach, Arthur and Stanley watched a man throwing a boomerang. It would arc high into the air and then swing back and land smoothly in his hand. Over and over again, like a graceful bird against the setting sun, the boomerang would sail away and then return. Sometimes, the wind would change the boomerang’s course, and the man would have to run a few steps to catch it.
The wind ruffled Arthur’s hair. “I bet you could do that,” he said to Stanley.
Stanley tilted his head matter-of-factly. “I bet I could.”
Stanley lay on his side on the ground, and Arthur took hold of one foot and one arm.
“Bend your body,” Arthur instructed.
“I was a Flying Chinese Wonder, remember?” joked Stanley.
In the distance, Stanley heard someone call his name.
“Here goes nothing,” said Arthur. He spun around, holding on to Stanley, faster and faster, like a shot putter. Stanley thought he saw a group of people running along the beach, and then Arthur heaved him into the air.
“Stanley, Arthur, no!” Mr. Wallaby’s voice exploded across the sand. “THE WIND!”
Stanley now saw that it was Mr. Wallaby, Ms. Perth, Bongo, and Sheila charging along the shoreline.
Stanley was about to yell that he was fine. But then a powerful gust of wind caught him in the back like a boxing glove, and he lost his bent shape. And, all at once, the wind whisked him away from the ocean.
“STANLEY!” Arthur’s voice called.
“ARTHUR!” Stanley screamed.
But he was already too far away. Stanley could just make out a cluster of people jumping up and down in the sand before he flew out of sight.
Chapter 5
To the Back of Beyond
A mountain range loomed below. Stanley tried to point himself down-ward for an emergency landing, but the wind rolled him over and over. It was no use. He couldn’t get down.
And then Stanley heard a rumbling in the distance. He scanned the horizon Storm clouds straight ahead! A bundle of dark clouds flashed in warning. What if I get hit by lightning? Stanley thought.
Again, he tried desperately to make himself descend. He held his hands and feet in front of him, and folded himself in half lengthwise. He twisted his body into a spiral. But the wind just grew more powerful. It was pushing him right into the storm.
Stanley felt a drop of rain on the back of his neck, then another. Soon he felt like he was being pelted from all sides. His body flapped like an untied sail. Stanley thought of Arthur, pulling him through the blizzard to safety.
But Arthur was still back on the beach, alone.
I was supposed to take care of him, thought Stanley. I made a solemn promise to stay with my little brother . . . and I broke it.
He imagined Arthur crying.
A drop fell from the flat of Stanley’s cheek, and he didn’t know if it was rain. He buried his face in his hands. He flinched every time the thunder clapped. Then, slowly, the air currents started to lift him higher. He peeked out from between his fingers. Gray clouds were flying by his face.
Suddenly, Stanley emerged into a brilliant red sky. He was above the storm. The dark clouds were rumbling wildly beneath him, like a flashing, lumpy blanket, but he knew he was safe, at least for the moment.
Stanley looked at the sky all around him. It was as bright as the coral in the Great Barrier Reef.
Don’t worry, Arthur, Stanley thought bravely. You’re not alone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Late the next day, Stanley fluttered down to earth at last. He got to his feet and peered around. Red soil and low, dry bushes stretched toward the horizon.
The outback, Stanley realized. Stanley had learned at school that Australia was the only continent that was an island, and he remembered what Mr. Wallaby had said, about how it was similar in size to the United States of America. The outback was the vast, arid region in the middle.
It’s going to be a long walk back to the beach, Stanley thought. His stomach grumbled loudly.
The sun sets in the west, he remembered, and the Great Barrier Reef is on the east coast.
With a sigh, he turned his back on the setting sun and started on his way.
Soon, Stanley came across a group of kangaroos. Several of them had joeys in their pouches. Two big kangaroos were hopping up and down and hitting each other playfully.
I didn’t know kangaroos really boxed! thought Stanley, creeping closer. One of them landed a stiff right jab.
“Ooh!” Stanley cried.
All of the kangaroos turned to look at him. And then, as if on cue, they hopped away.
“Wait!” cried Stanley, stumbling after them. He saw how the kangaroos pushed off with their hind legs and sprang through the air.
Without thinking, Stanley bent his feet beneath him, arched his back, and pushed off of his shins. He sprang a few feet forward, landed, and then pushed off again.
I can hop! Stanley realized. With his bendable shape, he could spring through the air. Not only that, he could hop much faster than he could walk or run!
Stanley hopped after the kangaroos, the ground springing away and then rising up to meet his legs, until the sky had turned from red to dark blue. Finally, the animals came to rest in a sparse wood. Stanley sank to his knees, panting.
Stanley noticed a kangaroo with a joey in her pouch eyeing him, and suddenly she hopped over. He got to his feet slowly.
“Hi,” Stanley said politely. The joey and its mother stared at him.
“Thanks for letting me follow you,” he continued.
Without thinking, Stanley made a playful jab, and the mother kangaroo blinked and bobbed her head. Then she hopped forward and punched Stanley in his empty stomach.
Stanley fell to the ground with a groan. Above him, the joey seemed to smile, and then disappeared as the mother hopped off.
&
nbsp; Stanley saw stars, but they may have been in the sky. In his head, he heard someone laughing at him.
Then he realized it wasn’t in his head. The laughter was coming from nearby, where he could just make out a campfire flickering among the trees.
Chapter 6
The Bush Tracker
Stanley crept forward through the bush. There was a man squatting by the fire, humming lightly to himself. His clothes were dirty, and his hands were black. His skin was leathery. Someone laughed nearby.
Stanley craned his neck, trying to see who else was around.
“You want me to sing it again, do ya?” the man said. “Don’t suppose you want ‘Waltzing Matilda,’ instead?”
Again, the other voice laughed heartily.
The man chuckled to himself. Then a low, tender voice erupted from his throat. He sang,
“Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree Merry, merry king of the bush is he Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra! Gay your life must be.”
A bird fluttered into view and landed right on the man’s shoulder. Without turning his head, the man held up a hand, and the bird pecked some seeds from between his fingers.
And then the bird let out a laugh!
It’s a real kookaburra! marveled Stanley. He took a step forward, and a dry twig snapped underfoot.
The bird disappeared from the man’s shoulder, and he stopped singing. He scanned the trees. Then he stood up and took a few slow steps right toward Stanley.
“I can tell from the sound of that twig that you’re no kangaroo,” the man said, narrowing his eyes. “And you’re no dingo, either. I’d almost say you were a person, except . . .”
Stanley stepped into the clearing.
The man raised his big eyebrows. “Except you’re flatter than a platypus’s bill.” He chuckled warmly to himself. “Didn’t expect that, did I?” He returned to his place by the fire. The kookaburra fluttered back onto his shoulder.
“So what’s a thin joey like you doing spying on old Wally?” the man said without looking up.
“I’m lost,” Stanley admitted.
“I should say you are,” said the man. “All the way out here at the back of beyond. It’s not called the Never Never for nothing. You’re awful deep in the bush, mate. What’d you do, get blown away by a strong wind?” the man joked.
The kookaburra laughed.
When Stanley didn’t answer, the man looked up, and his eyebrows made a tent. “That’s really what happened, isn’t it?”
Stanley nodded, and then he couldn’t help it. His flat cheeks were suddenly wet.
“I left my little brother on the beach by the Great Barrier Reef,” he said.
“The Great Barrier Reef!” the man exclaimed. “That’s more than one thousand miles away!”
Stanley’s whole body shook.
The man stood up. “No worries, joey,” he said. “I know what it’s like to be apart from your family. Old Wally is going to get you back where you belong.” He patted Stanley awkwardly on the back.
“You must be starving,” Wally said quickly. “Come on. Let’s get you some grubs.”
“Thank you,” Stanley sniffled. “Grub sounds great.”
“Have more than one, mate,” Wally said, chuckling. He opened his fist, which was full of tiny white worms. “The trick is to get ’em before they squirm away!”
They set out at dawn the next morning. Wally said they were a two-day trek from the nearest ranger station, near Uluru.
“Uluru?” said Stanley.
“The most majestic place on the planet, if you ask me,” said Wally, as a small lizard scurried out of their way. “A great big rock, rising up from the middle of nowhere like the back of a great wild animal. Lots of people call it Ayers Rock, but I prefer the Aboriginal name. For them, it’s a sacred place. They say Uluru was built up by two boys playing in the mud during creation times. Brothers, maybe.”
Stanley thought of Arthur with a pang. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked.
Wally shrugged. “Dunno,” he said. “I’m an orphan. A bush tracker found me by a watering hole when I was just a tyke. Must have—”
Wally froze and held up a dirty hand in front of Stanley.
Through the sparse trees, Stanley saw a horse, munching on dry bush.
“A brumby,” Wally whispered. He crept forward.
“A what?” said Stanley.
Wally’s eyebrows crouched together. “A wild horse. Catch him, and we could cut two days off the trip, easy.”
“I guess this means you’re either going to roll me or sit on me,” muttered Stanley, remembering his trip to Mount Rushmore.
Wally looked at him sideways. “I wouldn’t do a thing like that,” he said. He bent to the ground, picked up a short, thick stick, and handed it to Stanley. “Can’t tame a horse without reins, can I?”
“But that horse doesn’t have reins,” said Stanley, confused.
Wally showed Stanley how to grip each end of the stick. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and said, “Now he does.”
With that, Wally grabbed Stanley and leaped for the horse.
Chapter 7
Uluru
The brumby raced across the landscape. Stanley’s belly rested on its neck, while his arms stretched forward on either side so the horse could bite the stick between his hands. Meanwhile, Wally held both of Stanley’s legs as he rode the brumby’s bare back.
At first, both Stanley and the horse had been terrified. But Wally had reacted in his calm, amused away, joking with Stanley and the horse until they’d both relaxed. Now, Stanley had begun to enjoy himself. They were going so fast!
A pair of emu ran for a moment beside them, and then were left behind.
If only Arthur could see this! Stanley thought. He gave a whoop as the world whipped by, and Wally chuckled behind him.
After a few hours, they dismounted, and Wally led Stanley and the brumby on a walk through the bush to look for lunch. As they walked, Wally sang “Waltzing Matilda” in his low, sweet voice: “Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”
“Might as well be the Australian national anthem, that one,” he told Stanley. He pointed out animal tracks as they went. Wally could tell what sort of animal made a track, whether it was a boy or a girl, even how old it was—all from how big and deep the track was. At one point, he kneeled down and drew Stanley’s attention to an impression in the dust.
“Tiger snake,” murmured Wally. “Heading that way, fast. He’s a poisonous devil, he is.”
Soon, they were back on the brumby’s back. As the afternoon wore on, Stanley’s body ached, and he was covered in dust. Then, just as the sun was dropping to the horizon, Wally tugged Stanley’s legs, bringing the brumby to a sudden stop.
“There she is,” said Wally softly.
Stanley craned his neck to look up. In the distance, rising from the flat, barren outback, was a wide, smooth red rock.
It was much bigger than Stanley expected.
Wally kicked the horse with his heels, and they took off at a gallop.
Soon, Uluru towered before them, glowing a bright purplish red in the setting sun. It almost looked as if it were lit from within.
I see why this is a sacred place, thought Stanley.
Suddenly, Stanley saw a swirl of dust heading for them. It was a Jeep. As it got closer, Stanley saw heads sticking out the windows and one out the top. The one from the roof was waving its arms wildly, bobbing up and down.
And then Stanley’s heart lurched.
It was Arthur.
“Wally, it’s him!” Stanley screamed. “It’s him!”
As soon as the brumby stopped, Stanley leaped to the ground and sprinted for the Jeep.
He could hear Arthur’s voice now, high in the air. “Stanley! Stanley!”
The Jeep skidded to a stop, and everyone poured out. Mr. Wallaby, Ms. Perth, Bongo, and Sheila raced toward Stanley—but Arthur overtook them all and barreled into him, w
rapping himself in Stanley’s flat body like a blanket.
“I’m really sorry, Stanley,” said Arthur. “I promised to stay with you, and I sent you flying halfway across Australia.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” said Stanley. “I left my little brother all alone on a beach. What would Mom say?”
Arthur thought for a second. “Probably something about grammar.”
Stanley grinned. “How’d you find me?”
Mr. Wallaby stepped forward. “We’ve been tracking you by satellite photo since yesterday. We just didn’t want to come rescue you in a helicopter, because we feared you’d blow aw—” Mr. Wallaby’s eyebrows twitched, and he abruptly stopped talking.
He was looking straight at Wally.
Wally shifted uncomfortably. “G’day,” said Wally. “I’m Wally.”
Mr. Wallaby walked slowly up to the bush tracker, and Stanley suddenly realized that Mr. Wallaby’s lip was quivering. “I know who you are.”
He threw his arms around Wally, and Wally flinched.
“You’re my brother,” declared Mr. Wallaby. Ms. Perth, Bongo, and Sheila all gasped. The two men studied each other’s faces. Wally was leaner and darker from the sun, but Stanley had to admit that they had the same eyebrows. “Mum and Dad were trekking through the outback with us. You and I were playing by a watering hole. And then I . . . I lost you.”
Wally swallowed, and his eyebrows rose and then fell. After a moment, he said, “What’s your name, then?”
“Billy,” answered Mr. Wallaby.
Wally chuckled to himself. “That does sound familiar.”
Billy and Wally Wallaby hugged again, and so did Arthur and Stanley Lambchop, as Ms. Perth, Bongo, and Sheila wiped their eyes. Uluru glowed warmly above them all.
Chapter 8
