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"Sorry, Mr. Fredricksen. You don't seem like a public menace to me." The police officer smiled apologetically as she dropped Carl off at his front door. Carl had just spent the entire day in court. The judge had ruled that Carl was guilty of assaulting the construction worker.'
"Take this." The officer handed Carl a brochure for Shady Oaks Retirement1 Village. "The guys from Shady Oaks will be by to pick you up in the morning, okay?"
Carl heard the police car drive away. He looked down at the cheerful, good-looking people in the brochure. The judge had said that Carl couldn't live by himself anymore. He didn't have to go to jail— but he did have to go to a retirement home. To Carl, that was just as bad. He didn't want to leave his little house—Ellie's clubhouse.
"What do I do now, Ellie?" he wondered aloud.
That night, Carl walked through the quiet house. Every single thing brought back memories of Ellie. As Carl dug his suitcase out of the closet, he found Ellie's old adventure book. Carefully, he untied2 the string that held it closed. He flipped3 through the photos of Charles Muntz and his famous blimp.
When Carl came to the page marked STUFF I'M GOING TO DO, he stopped and sighed. He couldn't read any further. Ellie had never gone on her adventure. He'd promised her. He'd crossed his heart. But he'd waited too long.
Slowly, Carl closed Ellie's book. He gazed up at the mantel over the fireplace. He looked at the poster of South America, the pottery4, the woven rug, the bird figurine, and the little toy blimp. But most of all, he looked at Ellie's painting of their house on the tepui.
Then he glanced at the Shady Oaks pamphlet.
As he looked up at the mantel one more time, Carl's eyes narrowed just a bit. He smiled, and then crossed his heart. He'd made a decision.
By the middle of the night, most of the block was quiet and dark. Only the Fredricksen house was bright, the lights still on. Inside, Carl worked late into the night. He had a lot to prepare.
The next morning was sunny and clear as the Shady Oaks van pulled up in front of Carl's house. Two men got out. They were nurses from the retirement home.
The nurse named George knocked on the door.
"Morning, gentlemen," Carl said, opening the door. He had a suitcase in his hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Fredricksen," George said. "You ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be." Carl handed the suitcase to the other nurse, A.J. "Would you do me a favor and take this? I'll meet you at the van in just a minute. I, uh, want to say one last goodbye to the old place."
"Sure," George said, and he nodded politely. "Take all the time you need, sir."
"That's typical," A.J. muttered as Carl closed the door. He and George walked toward the van. "He's probably going to the bathroom for the eightieth time."
George eyed the lawn. It was littered with empty helium tanks. "You'd think he'd take better care of his house?"
At that moment, a dark shadow fell over the van. George and A.J. looked up, and their jaws5 dropped. Hundreds of balloons were rising from behind the house. They shot into the air like water from a fountain. Their strings6 were all tied to Carl's house through the chimney. As the balloons rose, the house teetered. Then it groaned7. Finally, it pulled away from its foundation and floated.
Up … up … up …
The floating house knocked the van, setting off the car alarm. Carl poked8 his head out the window and shouted triumphantly9, "So long, boys!"
The house soared over the town. People stared up, unable to believe what they were seeing. Birds flew alongside the house. Carl watched them, smiling to himself. He adjusted the compass and unfurled the sails, which were made of curtains hanging on curtain rods. They flapped and billowed in the wind.
Carl and Ellie were finally headed to South America. He kissed her photo."We're on our way, Ellie," he said. With a happy sigh, Carl settled into his favorite chair by the fireplace.
He had just closed his eyes when he heard a knock at the door.
Carl's eyes snapped open. A knock?
"Huh?" He stared at the front door. For a moment, he didn't hear anything. He had finally managed to convince himself that he had imagined the knock when it sounded again.
Grumbling11, Carl shuffled12 over to the door. He looked through the peephole. All he saw were the front porch and the clouds beyond. He threw open the door.
"Aaah!" Carl cried. Russell was clinging to the outside wall, holding on for dear life.
"What are you doing out here, kid?" Carl demanded.
"I found the snipe," Russell explained, "and I followed it under your porch, but this snipe had a long tail and looked more like a large mouse."
Carl rolled his eyes. That wasn't a snipe. It was a rat! What kind of Wilderness14 Explorer doesn't know the difference between a rat and a nonexistent snipe? he wondered.
"Please let me in," Russell begged.
"No!" Carl snapped. He shut the door.
Russell stared at the bright sun, the blue sky, and the white clouds drifting peacefully around him. This was the worst day ever.
After a moment, the door creaked open. "Oh, all right," Carl said reluctantly, "you can come …" Russell darted15 inside like a bullet.
"… in," Carl finished.
Russell panted for a moment, collecting himself. Then he looked around. "Huh. I've never been in a floating house before." It was a lot like a regular house. He walked over to the fireplace and found Ellie's drawing of the house lying on top of an open page in the atlas16. "Wow, you going on a trip?" Russell asked. "‘Paradise Falls: A Land Lost in Time,'" he read from the drawing. "You going to South America, Mr. Fredricksen?"
"Don't touch that!" Carl snatched the page from Russell's hand and put it in his pocket. Then he slammed the atlas shut. "You'll soil it."
"You know, most people take a plane," Russell said brightly, "but you're smart because you'll have your TV and clocks and stuff."
Russell noticed the steering17 rig that Carl had set up in the living room. It was made from an old-fashioned coffee grinder with a crank handle. Carl had attached it to the weather vane with ropes. "Whoa. Is this how you steer18 your house?" Russell asked. "Does it really work? Oh, this way makes it go right, and that way's left."
Carl stumbled through the house. The way Russell was steering was making him seasick19! "Kid, would you stop with the—let go of the—knock it off!"
Carl realized that he couldn't keep Russell with him. It was too dangerous, for one thing. For another, it was too annoying.
Russell ran to the window. "Hey, look, buildings!" He looked down at the office buildings and the people bustling20 past on the street. Everyone was busy. Nobody looked up and noticed the house flying overhead. "That building is so close, I could almost touch it."
Carl shuffled to the fireplace. Clearly, he didn't have a choice. He was going to have to pull the plug on the adventure. He'd have to land the house right where they were and send Russell home.
"I know that cloud," Russell said as he stared out the window. "It's a cumulonimbus. Did you know that a cumulonimbus is formed when warm air goes by cool air and the airs go by each other, and that's how we get lightning?"
But Carl wasn't listening. He was sawing at the balloon strings with his keys. "Stayed up all night blowing up balloons … for what?" he muttered. Russell was still talking. He never seemed to stop. "That's nice, kid," Carl muttered, reaching up and turning off his hearing aid.
"Mr. Fredricksen," Russell said nervously, "there's a big storm coming. It's starting to get scary." Carl was still ignoring him, so he raised his voice. "We're going to get blown to bits! We're in big trouble, Mr. Fredricksen!"
Just then, a bolt of lightning flashed outside. The light got Carl's attention. He turned his hearing aid back on. "What are you doing over there?" he demanded.
Carl went to the window. "See?" Russell said. "Cumulonimbus."
Carl gasped24 and ran to the steering rig. He tried to steer the house out of the dark clouds, but the storm was too strong. The wheel spun25, knocking Carl backward. He fell to the floor, and Russell let out a scream.
Rain lashed21 the house, and thunder roared. The house shifted, and Russell went flying. He landed on his back. Plates fell from the cupboards, books spilled from the shelves. Russell jumped up and tried to hide behind an umbrella stand. His backpack slid past. "My pack!" He pounced26 on it.
"Gotcha!" Russell kept sliding down the hall on top of the backpack. The front door swung open. Russell was about to slide through, but the door swung shut again. Russell crashed into it.
Carl struggled to his feet as photos and pictures fell from the walls. He tried to rescue his things. He grabbed what he could and tried to secure it.
“费迪逊先生,很抱歉。可你不像是给我们制造麻烦的人啊。”警官把卡尔送到他家前门时抱歉地笑了笑。整整一天的时间,卡尔都是在法庭上度过的。法官裁定卡尔犯有袭击建筑工人的罪行。
“拿着这个,”警官递给卡尔一本橡树荫养老院的小册子,“明早,橡树荫养老院的人会来接你,好吧?”
警车渐渐开远了,卡尔低头看了一眼小册子,上面印着笑容满面、和蔼可亲的老人像。法官之前已经告诉卡尔,他以后不能独自在家里生活了。虽然他不用坐牢,但是他必须住进一家养老院。对卡尔来说,这也没好到哪儿去。因为他不想离开这座小房子——艾莉的俱乐部。
“我该怎么办,艾莉?”他大声地问道。
那天晚上,卡尔在这间安静的房子里踱来踱去。这里的每一件物品都能勾起他对艾莉的回忆。卡尔从柜子里把他的手提箱拉出来时,看见了艾莉的那本旧探险书。他小心地解开系书的绳子,一页一页地翻看着查尔斯·蒙兹以及他著名飞船的照片。
看到标有“心愿单”那一页时,卡尔不由得停下来,叹了口气。他翻不下去了。艾莉未曾真正地去探险过。卡尔曾向她许诺过,发过誓,但却迟迟没有带她去探险。
卡尔慢慢地合上了艾莉的探险书,盯着壁炉架,然后看了看旁边的南美洲地图、陶器、手工编织的毯子、鸟的雕像,还有小玩具飞船。最终,他望向了艾莉描绘的房子——他们在特普伊山上的房子。
然后,他瞥了一眼橡树荫养老院的小册子。
他又抬头望了一眼壁炉架,微微眯起眼睛。他忽然笑了,在胸口画了个十字,心里做出了决定。
夜深了,整个街区都变得漆黑而安静,只有费迪逊家还亮着灯。卡尔整夜都在房间里收拾,他有很多准备工作要做。
第二天早上,阳光明媚,橡树荫养老院的面包车停在卡尔的房子前面。车上走下来两个人。他们是来自橡树荫养老院的护理工。
名叫乔治的护理工敲响了门。
“早上好,先生们。”卡尔说着打开了门。他提着一个手提箱。
“早上好,费迪逊先生,”乔治说,“您准备好了吗?”
“时刻准备着。”卡尔把手提箱递给护理工A.J.,“可以帮我拿着这个箱子吗?我一会儿就到车那儿去找你们。我,嗯,想跟这个老地方道个别。”
“当然可以,”乔治说着,礼貌地点了点头。“先生,不着急,您慢慢来。”
“还是老样子,他就是不愿来。”卡尔关上门的同时,A.J.喃喃地嘀咕着。他和乔治一起走向面包车。“他可能是去厕所了,该是第80次了。”
乔治看着草坪。上面扔满了空氦气罐。他忽然问了一句:“你不觉得他该对自己的房子好点吗?”
正说着,一个黑影出现在面包车上。乔治和A.J.抬头望去,他们惊讶得下巴都要掉下来了。只见成百上千只气球从房子后面腾空升起。它们像喷泉喷出的水花一般,跃向空中。气球的线全都穿过烟囱系在卡尔的房子上。随着气球逐渐升腾,房子摇摇晃晃地挣脱地面,发出“吱嘎吱嘎”的声音。最后,房子竟然脱离了地基,慢慢地升向空中。
上升……上升……气球把房子带得越来越高。
这座飘浮的房子撞到了橡树荫养老院的面包车,触响了车子的警报。卡尔把头探出窗口,扬扬得意地喊道:“再见了,孩子们!”
乔治和A.J.眼睁睁地看着卡尔的房子飞走了,什么都做不了!
房子在城市上空翱翔。人们注视着这座神奇的房子,无法相信眼前发生的一切。鸟儿在房子旁边翩翩起舞。卡尔看着他们,欣慰地笑了。他调整好罗盘,展开了由挂在窗帘杆上的窗帘制成的风帆布。风帆在风中滚滚飘动。
卡尔和艾莉终于朝着南美洲的方向前行了。卡尔吻了吻艾莉的照片说:“我们上路了,艾莉。”说完,他高兴地舒了口气,坐在壁炉旁他最喜欢的那把椅子上。
他刚刚闭上眼睛,就听到了敲门声。
卡尔猛地睁开了眼睛。有人敲门?
“嗯?”卡尔盯着前门。但等了一会儿,又没了动静。他尽力说服自己这敲门声不过是自己幻听罢了,但这时敲门声却再次响起。
卡尔一边抱怨着,一边慢吞吞地走向门口。他通过猫眼向外探视,但除了前廊和天空中飘浮的朵朵白云,什么都没有。他骤然把门打开。
“啊!”卡尔被吓得叫起来。原来是小罗,他正紧紧抓着墙,生怕自己小命不保。
“嗨,费迪逊先生,”小罗紧张地说,“是我,小罗。”
“你在这儿干什么,孩子?”卡尔问道。
“我找到了鹬,”小罗解释道,“我在你的门廊下找到了它,但是这只鸟有一条长长的尾巴,看上去更像一只大老鼠。”
卡尔翻了个白眼。那才不是鹬。它就是一只老鼠!究竟是什么样的野外探险家,竟然不知道老鼠和虚构的鹬之间的区别?他心里想道。
“请让我进去吧。”小罗恳求道。
“不行!”卡尔吼道,关上了门。
小罗凝视着明媚的太阳、蔚蓝的天空和身旁飘过的朵朵白云,一切都那么静谧而美好。但对他来说,这却是最倒霉的一天。
过了一小会儿,门“吱呀”一声打开了。“哦,好吧,”卡尔无奈地说,“你可以进……”话没说完,小罗就像一颗子弹似的冲向里面。
“……来了”卡尔这才把话说完。
喘息片刻之后,小罗平复了一下自己的情绪。然后他开始四处张望。“哈。我从没到过一间会飞的房子里。”它和普通的房子看起来没有什么两样。他走到壁炉边,看见艾莉画的房子就平放在打开的地图册上。“哇,你要去旅行吗?”小罗问道。“‘天堂瀑布:即将消失的土地’,”他读着画上写的字,“你要去南美洲,费迪逊先生?”
“别碰它!”卡尔一把从小罗的手中抢过这页纸,把它装进了口袋里,然后“啪”的一声把地图册合上了。“别给弄坏了。”
“很多人坐飞机去旅行,”小罗高兴地说,“但你很聪明,因为你把电视、时钟和其他用品都带上了。”
小罗注意到卡尔摆放在客厅里的驾驶台,它是由一个老式的咖啡研磨机与曲形手柄组合而成的。卡尔用绳索把它绑在了风向标上。“哇。你是这样‘开’房子的?”小罗问,“真的可以开动吗?哦,往这边摇房子就会向右行进了,往另一边摇房子会向左行进。”
卡尔在房子里站不住脚,歪歪扭扭地走动着。小罗的转向幅度让他感到眩晕!“孩子,你能停下来——放开手中的——停下来!”
卡尔意识到不能把小罗继续留在身边了,他早晚会闯祸。而且这个小男孩太令人讨厌了。
小罗跑到窗口处:“嘿,看啊,是高楼!”他低头看了看办公楼和街上的人。每个人都忙忙碌碌的,没有人抬起头来注意到他们头顶飞过的房子。“那座高楼离我们好近哦,我几乎可以摸到它。”
卡尔摇摇晃晃地走到壁炉旁。显然,他别无选择,他不得不切断探险的源头。他必须原地降落,把小罗送回家。
“我知道那种云,”小罗注视着窗外说,“那是一片积雨云。你知道积雨云是怎样形成的吗?当暖空气上升,冷空气和暖空气相遇时,就形成了积雨云,这也是闪电出现的原因。”
但卡尔并没有听他在讲什么,他正在用钥匙把气球的绳线锯断。“整晚都在吹气球……我这是为了什么?”他小声嘀咕着。小罗还在继续讲,看样子一时半会儿不会停下来。“很好,孩子。”卡尔咕哝着,伸手关掉了自己的助听器。
“费迪逊先生,”小罗紧张地说,“暴风雨就要来了。一切都变得可怕极了。”卡尔还是不理他,于是小罗提高了声音,“我们就要被吹成碎片了!我们遇上大麻烦了,费迪逊先生!”
就在这时,一道闪电划过窗外。闪电的亮光吸引了卡尔的注意力。他把助听器重新打开。“你在那儿干什么?”他质问道。
小罗指了指窗外的乌云:“看!”
卡尔走到窗口。“看见了吗?”小罗说,“那是积雨云。”
闪电照亮了整个房子,窗外雷声隆隆。
卡尔倒吸了一口气,连忙跑到驾驶台处。他试图把房子“开”出来,摆脱乌云,但暴风雨实在是太大了。柄轮打滑,敲中了卡尔,他向后倒去,摔在了地上,小罗吓得发出一声尖叫。
雨滴像鞭子一样抽打着房子,窗外雷声轰鸣。房子不停地摇晃,把小罗抛向空中,落了个背朝天。盘子从橱柜上掉出来,摔在了地上;书籍从书架上散开,落了一地。小罗跳了起来,试图躲到伞架的后面,不料他的背包却滑走了。“我的背包!”小罗一个猛扑,去抓自己的背包。
“抓住了!”话音刚落,小罗便随着身下的背包滑向门廊。这时,前门被晃开了,小罗就要滑出去了。就在这千钧一发之际,门“砰”的一声又关上了。小罗重重地撞到了门上。
看到照片和图片从墙上哗哗地掉下来,卡尔极力地挣扎着站起来,试图拯救自己的物品。他尽可能地抓住身旁的物品,试图保证它们的完好。
但最后,卡尔筋疲力尽,瘫倒在了椅子上。他合上了眼皮,不省人事了。
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