The Return: Disney Lands (8 page)

“You know everything about me,” Amanda said. “I just realized that.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You’re trying to help me.” Peggy nodded. Amanda’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Thank
you. But what if the me you’re trying to help doesn’t love
the me that has to do with my ‘talent’?”

“What you and Jessica have been through has matured you well beyond others your age.” Peggy sat back at her desk, carefully considering Amanda. “Your experiences qualify you
uniquely for our advanced placement track. It’s my job to let you know these opportunities are yours for the taking.
I won’t try to sell you one way or the other. Each of us must weigh
our own worth—to others, and to ourselves.”

She leaned in slightly. Amanda took a deep breath. It felt as if there was very little air in the room.

“I can see you don’t fully trust me,” Peggy said softly. “I’d like to work with you on that.”

“It’s not just you, if that’s any consolation. In my experience, grown-ups
and guardians tend to say one thing and do another. I believe it’s called hypocrisy.”

“A lack of moral fiber. I would venture to say you won’t find that here. Not in the company as a whole, and certainly not in the Imagineers. The company, the Kingdom as you and your
friends call it, is in our hands. The direction, the future of the stories we tell in our parks. It’s a huge responsibility.
Do we always get it right? No. But that’s why new blood, new
minds are so important to our longevity.”

“I’m hoping the blood part is behind us. We lost a friend, you know.” Amanda’s voice caught, remembering Finn’s pain, remembering her own. “And we lost Wayne
Kresky. A boy named Dillard. That’s enough blood for a very long time.”

“As I said,” Peggy reminded, “your experiences have
put you in a unique position.”

“I don’t know,” Amanda whispered.

“Well, that’s as good a place to start as any.”

“Start what?”

Peggy’s eyes warmed. “The rest of your life, Amanda. It’s yours for the taking.”

T
HE ONCE
-
GLAMOROUS LOBBY
of the DSI
dormitory, located in a
converted Anaheim hotel that gossip held served as the model for the Tower of Terror, was an unsettling mixture of brown tile, faded Oriental rugs, and sad furniture upholstered in a red fabric
that looked like the material used for stage curtains. Art deco lights framed a six-foot-high black stone hearth that held illuminated, dreary potted plants. The often stale and
dusty air
didn’t help with allergies; the most commonly heard sound throughout the building was sneezing.

The dorm’s alleged connection to the scary Disney attraction did little to encourage the riding of the building’s unusual “people movers.” The elevators moved
horizontally as well as vertically. Students typically took the stairs.

The ground-floor library boasted wall-to-wall shelves
crammed with old leather-bound books, antique ceiling lights, and a few pieces of odd art grouped randomly on green marble-topped tables.
Used for homework, research, and the occasional after-hours team meeting, the library offered anyone bold enough to visit an odd combination of cozy British great house and Disney’s Haunted
Mansion. Situated directly over the boiler room responsible for
supplying hot water to all seventeen floors, the library played host to a variety of unusual, unexplained sounds that unsettled or
frightened away its more timid occupants.

Amanda and Jess found their way there on a quiet Thursday night. They searched the stacks for a particular book and then, giving up, sat down in a pair of wingback chairs off in a corner.

At the other end of the small
room, an extremely tall, thin boy sat alone, his face obscured by his abundance of wild black hair. Near him were two girls, both reading.

“So, is that him?” Jess whispered.

“I’m not positive, but yeah, he fits the description.”

“Remember, don’t ask me to do anything that will violate—”

“The code of conduct. Got it. You’ve said it like a hundred times.” Having just sat down, Amanda
rose and approached the two girls.

“Hi,” she said brightly.

“Can we help you?” The girl who’d spoken was clearly of Scandinavian descent. She had the most gorgeous head of blond hair Amanda had ever seen, prettier even than
Charlene’s. Tons of it. Her high cheekbones, gleaming white teeth, and blue eyes made her look older than her friend, who looked more like a model for athletic wear.

“I’m looking for something called
Park History, 1957 through 1970
,” Amanda said, holding out her hand to shake.

“Of course. Emily Fredrikson.”

“Amanda Lockhart.”

“History of Audio-Animatronics, Tuesday, second period, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought I recognized you. You prefer cotton.”

“I’m sorry?” Amanda said.

The girl sitting beside Emily laughed. “Em’s a fabric geek.
Second year, like me. And not fashion, fabric. If she dressed you, you’d find yourself in fibers made from
snails’ bacterial excretions.”

“Unfair!” Emily said, laughing in spite of herself. “This is Tina, by the way.”

Tina, a dark brunette with sharp blue eyes, had the complexion of a Scottish Highlander, with flushed red cheeks and fields of freckles.

“The first couple of months
are tricky,” Emily said, “but it gets better after that. Watch out for Tippy Kramer and her group. They think they’re Walt’s descendants
and rightful heirs to his genius, something stupid like that.”

“I appreciate the tip,” Amanda said, nodding.

“Don’t try too hard, and don’t try to outsmart any of the ‘teachers.’” Emily drew air quotes around the word. “All of them are Imagineers, which
makes
them Disney royalty. Most of them came up through the ranks the hard way, and I think they maybe see other talented people as threats.”

“Oh,” Amanda said.

“Forgive Emily her motherly instincts.” Tina grimaced playfully. “She has only-child issues.”

“Whatever, Tina,” Emily said, all smiles once again. “So, what was the book?”

Amanda tried again. “
Park
History
?”

Jess
joined them then, and the introductions started up again. Tina recognized Jess from Old Ways in the New World—An Introduction to Original Attractions, and they exchanged some small
talk about the first class.

All the while, Emily studied Jess. “Double gauze top. Impressive. Aqua Washi?”

Caught off guard, Jess blushed. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll explain later,” Amanda said.

“About
how big a fabric nerd I am,” Emily said to Jess.

Emily caught Amanda’s eye and pointed to the tall boy. “Your book’s probably over there. If you can pry it away from Tim, you deserve it.”

“But don’t try to pry Tim,” Tina said. “He’s Em’s.”

“Utterly false! He thinks I’m his. There’s a big difference.”

“One of you’s the telekinetic, right?” Tina asked. “I heard you could push.”

Emily clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Tina can be rude and nosy. Ignore her.”

Tina chuckled. “I may be a little short on filters, but I never lie. I heard one of you was part of the Final Battle.”

“Is that what it’s being called?” Jess asked. “How dramatic.”

“Neither of us is a big fan of labels,” Amanda said.

But Tina couldn’t help herself. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Give it a break, Tina,” Emily said. “You two are obviously close. Friends from before?”

Amanda blinked at her tone. She sounded…threatened? But why?

“Since middle school, basically,” Jess said. She didn’t seem to notice Emily’s suspicious air. “But under less than stellar conditions.”

“How cool is that, though!” said Emily. “You guys are practically sisters.”

“
Are
sisters.
Both Lockhart. Both adopted.” It was stretching the truth, though not by much.

“Unheard of,” said Tina. “None of us knew each other before coming here. As in: none.”

Now there was no missing it: an air of accusation and envy hung in the air between the pairs of girls.

Breaking the ice, Emily sweetly suggested that she and Amanda grab a Starbucks after their next class together. She
sounded genuine.

“I’d love to hear how you two pulled off getting accepted together,” Tina said, eyes still fixed on Jess.

Jess forced an unwilling smile. “Lucky, I guess.”

Time to go. Amanda said good-bye and approached the boy, who wore headphones and a look of intense concentration as he read.

As the girls approached, he looked up and stared a little too long and too intimately
at Amanda. He had brown eyes, a mat of unruly dark hair, and thick eyebrows.

“Yeah?” he said, slipping one ear clear of the headphones. His voice was adult and scratchy.

“Amanda. I’m new.”

“Tim Walters. I’m not.” He covered his ear back over.

“I was wondering if I could borrow
Park History
.” She pointed to the book, which sat in a stack on the table in front of the boy.

He
lifted the earphone, but Amanda wasn’t about to repeat herself. “I don’t own it. That’s why it’s called a library.”

“You’re reading it.”

“No. I’m reading this. It’s just sitting there. That means it’s yours if you want it.”

“Seriously? You’re good with that?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tim said. “I said it’s yours if you want it.”

“I’m not just going to take it,” Amanda said stubbornly.

He flipped his arms as if to say,
Give me a break!

“Hey, bonehead!” said Emily, kicking Tim’s legs. The way they engaged, it was immediately apparent that they weren’t strangers. Far from it. But they weren’t close
either, not exactly.

“Don’t listen to this degenerate,” Emily said. “Take the book. And if he gives you any trouble, let me know.”

Tim stuck his tongue out at her.

“Very adult of you.” Emily turned, making a point of her sultry sway as she went back to sit with Tina.

Tim pointed to the book in Amanda’s arms. “It’s not exactly Wikipedia, you know?”

“I’m trying to find out about the Imagineers’ use of television in the parks. The history of it and stuff.”

“No way!” Tim sat up sharply and ripped off the headphones, further tousling his unruly
hair.

“Why? What?” Amanda said.

Beside her, Jess hid a smile, silently admiring Amanda’s skill at working the boy. She and Amanda had researched Tim’s field of study before coming to the library—but they
weren’t about to let him know that.

“Metaphorically speaking, alongside my name you’ll see Tim-with-an-asterisk,” Tim said.

“Why? Speaking metaphorically, of course.”

“Because
Imagineering communication technology is my specialty, my area of interest. My major, if we had majors.”

“You’re kidding me!” Amanda made her surprise sound genuine.

“What in particular interests you?” Tim asked.

“Probably better if I read up first. But your enthusiasm is noted.”

“I’m not flirting.”

“Okay.”

“You think I’m flirting.” He sounded crushed.

“I just think
I need to do some reading before I talk to a person with an asterisk by his name.”

“We live on the edge,” Jess said, laughter obvious in her tone. Tim turned to her for the first time, jutting out his chin.

“You speak for each other, do you?”

“She takes the adjectives, I take the adverbs,” Jess said.

“Feisty! I like that.”

“No one asked,” Jess said.

“Read all you want,”
Tim said, sitting back and kicking up his feet on the desk. “But I could save you a lot of time.”

“How so?” Jess asked.

“Making things difficult if not impossible to reference has to be carefully planned.” Tim shrugged. “I’m just saying. That may have gone on here.”

“So you’re a conspiracy theorist?” Jess said.

“I’m in lighting and sound, and the odd computer networking job.”

“All computer networking is odd.”

Amanda fought back a grin at Jess’s quick come-backs.

Tim grinned, too. Nodded. Smiling was something that came naturally to him, it seemed. And he was far more handsome than Amanda had thought at first.

Catching herself, Amanda clutched the book tightly, and thanked Tim for it.

“Don’t go too far,” Tim said. “Because you’ll be back.”

Jess
sighed, unimpressed, and followed Amanda back to their corner chairs. Tina called loudly after them, “Watch out for him, ladies. Killer smile, but he’d rather spend time with a
circuit board than engage in active conversation.”

“I have a love of learning!” Tim said, indignant.

In the book’s index, Amanda found only a single reference for television:
Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color
. There were four pages and they consisted almost entirely of
photographs.

“He’s right,” she said. “Nothing here.”

Tim was watching them. He seemed to be celebrating their failure.

“Little known fact,” he called across the room. “
Set Design, 1950 through 1966
includes not only the addition of New Orleans Square, but the 1964 creation of
Progressland for the General Electric Pavilion
at the New York World’s Fair.”