by MJ Ware
"Traddles, I said, get them!" Mr. Night must have hit his head pretty hard, 'cause Tommy was already gone. Night was wiping away the vomit and starting to get back up. I took a deep breath and snatched up the head. The cables and wiring ripped out, but I just ran.
Chapter 5 – Two Heads Aren't Better than One
"No. Stop! Don't take that. It runs the park. It can run everything!" Night screamed, "Traddles, call out the Animatrons."
I caught up with Zoey and Tommy a few seconds later. They were flying down a narrow staircase.
"What just happened?" I asked.
"All I know is this wasn't the romantic escapade I was promised," Zoey said without turning around.
"How'd that man know my name?" Tommy asked, between breaths.
"I don't know. Your hat only says Tammy. It doesn't have your last name. But I can tell you one thing: They were up to no good." I glanced back the way we’d come.
"Oh, what gave you that idea?" Zoey was moving so fast I could barely keep up. "Could it be because they are back there drilling holes into Walt Disney's head?"
"No, I don't think they are," I said, afraid to look down at what I was carrying.
"We're in big trouble. We’re in way over our heads." Zoey stopped and turned, not sure which way to go. That was when they saw what I was carrying.
"Way over his head too," I said as they gave me vacant stares, mouths gaping.
Zoey turned whiter than the fake snow covering the Matterhorn. "Zack, what did you do?"
"They were about to drill into his brains. What else could I do?"
"What else could you do?" she screamed. "You're holding Walt Disney's head and asking me what else you could do! How about anything except picking up the disembodied head and taking it for a stroll?"
I really checked out the head. It was in good shape. There was some color in the cheeks. The skin even felt warm. A metal box with blinking lights and a couple small knobs were connected to the neck, which had a metal skirt over the bottom of it, so there wasn't any blood or pus or anything gross like that coming out the bottom—just the box and wires. Lots and lots of wires.
"I think it's okay—I mean, he's okay," I said glancing at Walt. "But really, Zoey, they were up to no good."
"What do we do now?" she asked, still looking at me like I was completely insane.
"We could take it back." Tommy couldn't take his eyes off of the head.
"Take it back?" I said. "What do you suggest? We say, 'Sorry we stole Mr. Disney's head from your secret, evil laboratory? Here, have it back. Drill away.'"
"How about we run," Zoey said.
"Yeah, but where? How do we—"
"Now! Run now!" Zoey pointed behind me.
If it weren't for the fact I was holding Walt Disney's head, I wouldn't have believed it, but barging down the stairs was the Abominable Snowman.
Chapter 6 – One Step Ahead
He was huge, with glowing red eyes. Steps buckled under his hairy feet as he advanced, and he was moving fast.
We all ran for our lives.
We didn't stop until we found an exit out of the mountain that led into the park.
"Well, Tammy, you got to see the Abominable Snowman," I said, looking behind us to make sure we'd lost him.
"It must have been a guy in a suit," Zoey replied.
"Big guy," Tommy said.
"I bet he's still chasing us." Zoey took my hand. "Let's get going."
We started running through Fantasyland toward the park exit, but we made slow progress—it was packed. It looked as though a lot of rides in this part of the park were closed.
People stared at us as we passed. Some looked at us like we were nuts, but most smiled, seeming to think Walt's head was fake, maybe some sort of demented practical joke.
"Zack, I think we should do something about the head," Zoey said. "It's drawing attention."
"I'm open to ideas."
"How about putting it in your backpack?" she suggested.
"No, it's way too big," I said. "I couldn't get it in even if I dumped everything out."
"Then buy a T-shirt or something to throw over it."
"Let's find a clothing shop." I couldn't see much through the crowd.
"How about this?" Tommy put his mouse ears on Walt's head.
"Oh, sure. Now people will think his name is Tammy."
"Can I hit him?" Zoey asked.
"He's not my Park Buddy," I said, then hit my forehead with my hand. "That's it. Sunny. Sunny will know what to do. She's, like, the smartest girl ever."
"You're probably right." Zoey raised an eyebrow. "She's the smartest person ever. But I doubt she's in line anymore."
"I wouldn't want to head back there, anyway."
Tommy started laughing. "Zack, you just said 'head back.' Get it, head back?" He pointed to Walt.
Somehow resisting the urge to belt Tommy, Zoey made her way through a group of little kids. "Let's just get out of the park. Then I'll call Sunny."
We were almost to Main Street when an announcement boomed over hidden loudspeakers. "Attention, guests. Our computers are experiencing a temporary malfunction. During this short outage, most rides will be briefly closed. Please rest assured this is a temporary inconvenience. We are working to rectify the problem as quickly as possible. Thank you, and have a magical day."
We walked into the Main Street Emporium, acting as casual as anyone could while carrying a human head with wires poking out of it.
"That's what they were doing with… Well, you know," I said, looking down at the head.
"What?" Zoey asked.
"They were using him to run the park. I heard that old guy Tommy slimed say they needed Walt to run the computers for the park."
"The head? You think they're using Walt Disney's head to run the park? That's ridiculous."
"No, not his head. That would be stupid. His brains—they're using his brains to run the park."
"Oh, well, that makes a lot more sense," Zoey said.
I nodded.
"No, it doesn't make any sense!" she cried. "It's impossible!"
"Not impossible." Tommy tried on a pair of lighted mouse ears with colored lasers shooting out of them sort of like a laser pointer factory was blowing up. "There's an episode of Star Trek where they use Spock's brain to run an entire colony of spacemen."
"Well, if it happened on Star Trek, then it has to be possible," Zoey replied, shaking her head. I could see it was taking everything she had not to knock those ears off his head.
"Is it any more ridiculous than anything else we've seen today?" I asked.
"Yes. Running a theme park with Walt Disney's brain is more ridiculous than anything else we've seen today." She added, "Just get a shirt or something to put over him and let's go."
"Ooh, get a Little Mermaid shirt." Tommy squealed.
I grabbed the first sweatshirt I could find and draped it over the head.
"Princess Alestia. Who the heck is Princess Alestia?" Tommy asked.
"Who cares? Just find an open register."
"But I know everything Disney. There's no Princess Alestia."
"There's also no registers." Zoey stopped. The look on her face sent a chill down my spine.
"What do you mean, there's no registers?" I asked. "Look at all the people buying stuff."
I stopped to check everyone out. She was right. People were walking around with arms and bags full of junk, but there were no registers. In fact, there was nobody working in the store at all, except robotic greeters at the entrances and exits, each one a different character.
"People are just walking out with stuff," Tommy said. "Maybe everything's free today."
"Yeah, right," I said. "A hundred bucks to get in, five-dollar churros, but everything else is free."
"And what's with the robots? I don't remember seeing robotic characters on our way in?" Zoey asked.
"Maybe we didn't notice them. We did run straight to the Indie line," I said.
"No, Disney
doesn't have this sort of technology. No one does." Tommy nervously played with a stuffed Pluto he'd picked up.
"Look, everyone is just walking out with stuff. So that's what we do. No one's noticing them—no one will notice us."
"Fine, but let's walk through the shops and all the way down to the end of Main Street before we try it," Zoey suggested.
We went through the corridors that connected each shop on our way to the main gate. But as we walked, it became increasingly clear that something strange was going on. I couldn't put a finger on it, but everyone was weird, like the girl with mini-LEDs flashing on her eyelids, or the guy with a tattoo that glowed neon green. And I swear I saw a grandma with a Mohawk.
"We'll exit there, past Pinocchio." Zoey pointed to a doorway by the Main Street fire station. "It's the closest to the park exit."
We tried to look casual as we walked past the robotic Pinocchio, who was welcoming visitors, saying things like, "Someday, I'll be a real boy."
But as soon as we went by, his eyes lit up and started blinking red. "I'm sorry. I wasn't able to read your credit card. Kindly step back into the store."
We all looked at each other. No one had to say it—we all ran.
I figured we were only a couple hundred feet from the front gate so we wouldn't have any trouble getting out of the park.
I was wrong.
Chapter 7 – Marionette Mayhem
Zoey glanced back and cried, "He's coming after us."
I was having trouble keeping up with them—a human head is a lot heavier than you'd think. Behind me, a pair of wooden shoes pounded against the pavement. Pinocchio was gaining on us.
The worst part was his singing. "Hi-diddly-dee, you aren't going to outrun me."
He caught up to us just as we were going through the tunnel under the train station.
"Please stop," he said as his metal hand wrapped around Zoey's shoulder.
"Owwee!" she cried and fell to her knees. She tried to slide away, but he had her pinned to the ground.
The oversized robotic marionette was singing, "I've got no strings. I'll push you down, make you cry, and make you frown."
That gave me an idea. Right in front of us was one of those ropes used to direct traffic. You know, to make sure everyone goes to the right when they exit, so the employees can laugh as we get squished together.
I handed Walt to Tommy, who stood petrified, staring at the monstrous Pinocchio. Quickly, I unclipped the rope from the metal poles.
Tying one end around the hand that had Zoey pinned to the ground, I wrapped the other around Pinocchio's neck, while making sure I stayed clear of his free hand.
I pulled and pulled. Slowly, little by little, his hand started to release Zoey's shoulder. I put my foot against his back and pulled some more. Finally, I'd pulled his arm up enough that she was able to slip out from under his grasp.
"Thanks." Zoey rubbed her shoulder.
Before I let go, I wrapped the rest of the rope twice around his legs and tied it tight. "You've got strings now."
Crash!
Pinocchio had tried to walk and fell flat on his face. "Jiminy Cricket!"
I took Walt from Tommy, and we headed for the front gate. As we were about to dash through the turnstiles, out of nowhere, Captain Hook leaped in front of us.
"Halt, you scurvy mates!" the robotic pirate cried.
I sighed. "This is so not funny."
Chapter 8 – Saved by the Tick of Time
"Watch out for his hook," Zoey cried, as he took a swipe at her. She dodged it. But with his other hand, he pulled out his sword.
"Here, take Walt." I faded back and threw a pass to Zoey.
"Ooo, gross!" She stepped aside, and Walt's head, still wrapped in a sweatshirt, fell to the ground.
Tommy leaned over and picked him up, but with a look on his face as though we'd just committed some terrible crime.
Zoey and I looked around for a weapon, any weapon. But the only things in reach were the traffic-directing ropes, and the poles that held them in place.
Zoey reached for a pole. It looked heavy, but somehow, even with a hurt shoulder, she managed to lift it out of the little hole in the asphalt and hold it like a sword. She got it up right as Hook tried to decapitate Tommy. She blocked his blade, but the robot was so strong, it knocked the pole into Tommy. He bumped into Zoey, and they both fell down. Walt's head started rolling away.
Captain Hook took a whack at me. At the last second, Zoey managed to jump and block it, but just barely. I knew even Zoey's highly honed ninja skills were no match for his freakish robot strength.
I had to figure out some way to stop him. He was faster than me, stronger than me, but he had to have a weakness, if I could only figure out what it was.
What's Captain Hook's weakness? Peter Pan—no, that wouldn't help.
I fell to the ground as he tried to rip out my throat with his hook. That was it! His hook—his one weakness. "Zoey, your phone." I held out my hand. "Give me your phone."
She hesitated. Zoey had saved her babysitting money for like, two years to buy it. She hardly ever let me play games on it. But she must have seen the desperation in my eyes—or maybe it was more sheer terror—because she tossed me the phone.
I caught it and quickly started looking for the right app. As I did, Hook swung his sword back and started bringing it down on my head. I didn't have time to move—it was going to slice me down the middle like a banana split.
Out of nowhere came a pair of pink-and-white Vans. Zoey flew through the air, feet—or rather, shoes—first, doing some crazy, double-kick thing right into Hook's sword, knocking it away. She rolled and landed on her feet with the grace of an Olympic gymnast.
I didn't have time to be impressed, because Captain Hook wasn't backing down. I found the clock icon on Zoey's phone and started the app. Hook picked up his sword, lifting it high over his ridiculously large pirate hat. Quickly, I changed the app to analog mode and turned up the volume.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock…
Captain Hook froze.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock…
As if it were a shield, I held up the phone with the ticking clock app at full blast.
"Oh, no. He's here. The Crocodile!" He turned and took off, screaming, "Save me, Smee!"
I scooped up Walt's head, which had stopped when it bumped into a trashcan, and jumped over the locked turnstiles that exited the park.
"Zackary B. Weller," Zoey said as we helped Tommy over the turnstile, "I will never forgive you for stealing Walt Disney's head."
"I hope we didn't break his nose or anything." I also hoped that another animatronic nightmare wouldn't appear.
We kept running.
When we reached the front of the parking lot, Tommy asked, "Where's the school bus?"
"Forget the bus. Where are the cars?" Zoey replied. We stared across the lot, full with thousands of vehicles. But no cars—just row after row of what looked like futuristic hovercraft with wings.
"Oh, oh. I wanna drive a flying car!" Tommy yelled, raising his hand like he was in class.
"Zoey," I said, "What's wrong with this picture?"
She had a look in her eye as if someone had just told her Teen Superstar Makeovers had been canceled. "I don't know, but my phone isn't working either. We've got to get out of here."
"How? It's not like we can steal a flying car."
"Maybe we won't have to," Zoey said, pointing to a tram that was stopped in front of the parking lot.
"I don't think the parking tram will take us home." Tommy wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"No, but we can take it—somewhere, anywhere away from here."
"We can't steal a tram. Oh, we're going to get banned from the park for life." Tommy chewed the edge of one of his mouse ears.
"What about all the people on it?" I asked, looking back at the main gate to make sure another storybook character wasn't going to try to knock our heads off.
"They can get off or come along." Zoey m
arched forward. "Follow me."
We ran behind her. The tram was loaded with passengers, mostly sleepy parents and cranky little kids.
"Sorry kids, all full. You'll have to wait for the next one," the driver said as he walked along the sides, making sure nothing was sticking out.
"Quick. The driver's helping some lady get her stroller in," I said, and we casually went to the front of the tram.
All three of us jumped in the front seat.
"Zoey, scooch over," I said.
"No way. Why should you get to drive?" Zoey hit the gas, and the tram started moving.
"I'm the oldest guy. The oldest guy gets to drive. That's just the way it works."
"Lame… Where'd you get a stupid idea like that, Zackary?"
"Umm, guys? I think we have a problem." Tommy was looking behind us.
Zoey had successfully driven away with the tram, but it wasn't exactly a speedy getaway. The thing just didn't go that fast, and the driver had jumped onboard. Now he was slowly climbing over the seats of cars, heading toward us.
"Well, this isn't going quite as planned," I said.
"Zack, don't just complain." Zoey elbowed me in the side. "Do something!"
"Ouch. What do you want me to do? Fight him like in those old western train movies?" I said. "That's more your style."
"Wait. I've got an idea." Tommy jumped up.
"You've got an idea?" Zoey and I said together.
"This is like a train, right? With lots of cars tied together." Tommy climbed over the back of our tram. "So, there has to be a way to release the cars."
"You mean cut them free?" I said, following him over.
"Yep, there must be."
"Zoey, watch Walt."
"Just hurry up. The driver's getting closer," Zoey yelled.
The driver was about five cars away. When he got to the last car, he'd be able to reach across and grab us.
Zoey picked up the intercom mic and said, "I'd like to remind passengers that climbing on the seats is strictly prohibited. Please sit back and keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times."
"Yeah, like that's going to work," I whispered to Tommy.
Tommy and I stood on the back bumper, looking at the junction that held our part of the tram to the rest of the cars.
"It's a big bolt," I said. "I don't know if we can get it off."