enjoying her ice cream.
Finn devoured the ice-cream sandwich. With his mouth full he said, “No clue.”
Charlene explained, “Me and Philby met here in the park the other night. We haven’t found each other…you know…on the outside yet. Not like the way you found me. But here we are.”
Her mention of “the outside” sent shivers up Finn’s spine.
Philby said, “I don’t seem to remember as much as Charlene when I wake up. I’m not sure why. But you know, I’ve never really remembered my dreams, so maybe that’s part of it.”
“But this isn’t a dream,” Finn reminded him.
“I know that now,” Philby said. “But I didn’t know that earlier.”
“This will all change,” Wayne said. “The more you cross over, the more it will feel familiar to you.”
“Cross over,” Philby repeated.
“Weird, huh?” Finn said.
Wayne’s hand slipped into his pocket.
“No!” Finn called out, knowing the man intended to send him back to his bed. “You owe us an explanation first.”
“I need you all together,” Wayne said.
Finn said, “You have the three of us. That will have to do. When—if—we’re ever all together, then fine, you can explain it again. But I just got burned on my arm by a group of…”
“Pirates,” Philby said. “Mechanical pirates.”
“Mechanical pirates that could talk and take orders,” Charlene added.
“Yes. Pirates ,” Finn said. “Pirates you can’t see, as I understand it. And I don’t understand it.
And I’ll stay up, dusk to dawn, if I have to, in order to figure this out. And, if you don’t tell us what this is about, you won’t see me again.”
“Or me,” Philby said.
“Or me,” Charlene agreed.
“It’s now or never,” Finn declared.
The old man looked paler by a good deal. Some bird off in the thick of green cooed deeply.
Finn felt like they were being watched.
“All right,” Wayne said, smiling. He glanced around suspiciously. “Come with me.”
They followed. After a bit of a walk, Wayne unlocked and admitted them into the auditorium for the Country Bear Jamboree. He placed the three kids in the first row. Then he walked through the dark space and checked all the doors. He returned to the front of the hall and leaned against the stage to address them.
“There’s a fine line between imagination and reality. An inventor dreams something up, and pretty soon, it’s there on the table before him. A science-fiction writer envisions another world, and then some space probe finds it. If you believe in something strongly enough, I think you can make it happen.”
“That’s a good thing,” Finn said.
Wayne asked, “But what if we believe in witches and villains? If we believe as strongly in Wayne asked, “But what if we believe in witches and villains? If we believe as strongly in things like them…can we make them happen?”
“You’re giving me the creeps.”
“This park, this wonderful place, makes both sides happen—the good and the bad. Some of Walt’s stories go back generations. Hundreds of years. Cinderella. Snow White. We see similar stories in many different cultures across the globe. What if these stories were once true? If they were real, passed down from generation to generation? Different cultures experiencing similar things? And if they were real, are real? If the hero and heroine go off to live happily ever after, then what happens to the villains, witches, sea monsters, and evil stepmothers?”
Finn said, “You’re saying that because the park makes them real, they are real?”
“I’m saying if you believe strongly enough, anything can happen, and millions of people, kids and adults, visit this park—all the Disney parks, the cruise line, the Broadway shows, the Web sites, Disney on Ice—every year. And they—”
“Believe,” Finn said.
“In the bad and the good,” Charlene said.
“Exactly. Yes, they do. And there’s power in that belief,” Wayne said.
“So?” Philby asked.
“So
Finn devoured the ice-cream sandwich. With his mouth full he said, “No clue.”
Charlene explained, “Me and Philby met here in the park the other night. We haven’t found each other…you know…on the outside yet. Not like the way you found me. But here we are.”
Her mention of “the outside” sent shivers up Finn’s spine.
Philby said, “I don’t seem to remember as much as Charlene when I wake up. I’m not sure why. But you know, I’ve never really remembered my dreams, so maybe that’s part of it.”
“But this isn’t a dream,” Finn reminded him.
“I know that now,” Philby said. “But I didn’t know that earlier.”
“This will all change,” Wayne said. “The more you cross over, the more it will feel familiar to you.”
“Cross over,” Philby repeated.
“Weird, huh?” Finn said.
Wayne’s hand slipped into his pocket.
“No!” Finn called out, knowing the man intended to send him back to his bed. “You owe us an explanation first.”
“I need you all together,” Wayne said.
Finn said, “You have the three of us. That will have to do. When—if—we’re ever all together, then fine, you can explain it again. But I just got burned on my arm by a group of…”
“Pirates,” Philby said. “Mechanical pirates.”
“Mechanical pirates that could talk and take orders,” Charlene added.
“Yes. Pirates ,” Finn said. “Pirates you can’t see, as I understand it. And I don’t understand it.
And I’ll stay up, dusk to dawn, if I have to, in order to figure this out. And, if you don’t tell us what this is about, you won’t see me again.”
“Or me,” Philby said.
“Or me,” Charlene agreed.
“It’s now or never,” Finn declared.
The old man looked paler by a good deal. Some bird off in the thick of green cooed deeply.
Finn felt like they were being watched.
“All right,” Wayne said, smiling. He glanced around suspiciously. “Come with me.”
They followed. After a bit of a walk, Wayne unlocked and admitted them into the auditorium for the Country Bear Jamboree. He placed the three kids in the first row. Then he walked through the dark space and checked all the doors. He returned to the front of the hall and leaned against the stage to address them.
“There’s a fine line between imagination and reality. An inventor dreams something up, and pretty soon, it’s there on the table before him. A science-fiction writer envisions another world, and then some space probe finds it. If you believe in something strongly enough, I think you can make it happen.”
“That’s a good thing,” Finn said.
Wayne asked, “But what if we believe in witches and villains? If we believe as strongly in Wayne asked, “But what if we believe in witches and villains? If we believe as strongly in things like them…can we make them happen?”
“You’re giving me the creeps.”
“This park, this wonderful place, makes both sides happen—the good and the bad. Some of Walt’s stories go back generations. Hundreds of years. Cinderella. Snow White. We see similar stories in many different cultures across the globe. What if these stories were once true? If they were real, passed down from generation to generation? Different cultures experiencing similar things? And if they were real, are real? If the hero and heroine go off to live happily ever after, then what happens to the villains, witches, sea monsters, and evil stepmothers?”
Finn said, “You’re saying that because the park makes them real, they are real?”
“I’m saying if you believe strongly enough, anything can happen, and millions of people, kids and adults, visit this park—all the Disney parks, the cruise line, the Broadway shows, the Web sites, Disney on Ice—every year. And they—”
“Believe,” Finn said.
“In the bad and the good,” Charlene said.
“Exactly. Yes, they do. And there’s power in that belief,” Wayne said.
“So?” Philby asked.
“So
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