At the time, I’d been tickled to no end by the irony. Apparently, it isn’t really a small world after all.
We all crammed into a boat, Millie and Aunt Sue in front again, and started into the tunnel of singing dolls, the strains of that infectious song hitting my ears even before we entered.
As in the pirate ride, the smell of recirculated water permeated the cool caverns. The corners of the rooms were dark, but dozens of colored lights shone down on the main displays. There were so many things going on at once - dolls and animals and dancing, creatures popping out from corners - it would take a dozen trips through the ride to see them all.
We were about three minutes into the journey through the world of children when the repetitive song began to get to me, and I started getting antsy again. I leaned forward and poked Aunt Sue in the back.
“Hey! Let’s do it.”
Aunt Sue gave an exaggerated over-both-shoulders look, then winked at me. “Operation Hattie Drop commence.”
Oh, brother.
I bit my lip, scanning the rows of dolls for some sort of hidden watchtower as I heard Aunt Sue unscrew the top from her souvenir bottle.
“Shouldn’t we say a few words first?” Millie asked.
I shot her a look. “You’re serious?”
“She deserves to be laid to rest with dignity.”
“We’re in a moving ride, surrounded by the most annoying tune known to man, sung by a bunch of talking dolls, carrying a woman’s ashes around in Buzz Lightyear soda bottle. I’m pretty sure we passed dignity at least two harebrained schemes ago!”
Again, I could swear Cal snickered beside me, but he quickly covered it with a cough as I whipped my “don’t start with me, pal” gaze his way.
“Alright, alright, let’s just do this,” Aunt Sue said. “We’re almost to Africa.”
Aunt Sue leaned over the edge of the boat, slowly tipping the contents of her bottle into the water. Fine, yellow ashes mingled with the chlorinated water, swirling under the boat.
“The Lord is my Shepherd,” Aunt Millie began to recite in a solemn tone. “I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures.”
I bowed my head, at a loss for what else to do. Cal followed suit beside me. Though, that snicker kicked up again when Millie recited, “He leadeth me beside the still waters.”
I guess in our case, flowing waters and tourist boats. But I kept my trap shut, my head bowed, trying my best to think dignified thoughts as Aunt Millie’s parting words mingled with the strains of “There’s so much that we share, now it’s time we’re aware, it’s a small world after all!”
Finally she closed with, “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.”
“Amen,” we all repeated. Then I raised my head.
Just as the ride came to a screeching halt.
Oh. Shit.
We’d been caught.
I wildly whipped my head around, my gaze pinging from Aunt Sue’s empty Buzz Lightyear bottle to the singing dolls. I squinted through the darkness, trying to make out if any had glowing red eyes like the security skeleton.
Aunt Sue shoved the bottle back in her bag, clutching the tote closed. Millie sat up straight, clasping her hands in her lap. Cal tensed next to me, instinctively reaching for his missing gun.
We sat like that for a full thirty seconds, my heart hammering in my chest so hard I felt each bruising beat. I held my breath. What was the penalty for unlawful disposing of human remains in a theme park? A slap on the wrist? A fine? Surely not jail time, right?
Just when the patrons of the boats in front and behind us were starting to fidget in their seats, a voice came over the loudspeaker.
“We’re sorry, folks, but there seems to have been a slight mechanical malfunction. We’re going to have cast members escort you from your boats and to the nearest exit one at a time. Please remain seated until a cast member can assist you.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Mechanical malfunction. Thank the gods. We hadn’t been made. We’d just broken the ride.
Fleetingly I wondered if Mrs. Carmichael’s floating remains had anything to do with that malfunction, but I brushed it aside, telling myself maybe they hadn’t made the canal quite deep enough still in some parts.
Five minutes later, a pair of women in cheery blue uniforms appeared, leading the people three boats ahead of us out of their seats and toward an exit behind one of the curtains. As soon as the people in the boat in front of us saw movement, they got up too, completely ignoring the instructions to wait for a cast member. Pretty soon, every boat had emptied out and the two women in blue were frantically trying to herd people in one straight line out the exit.
“Let’s get the heck out of here,” Aunt Millie said, still nervously glancing back to where we’d deposited Mrs. Carmichael.
I couldn’t agree more.
Cal helped the aunts out of the boat. I followed a step behind, tripping on an animatronic dog and losing my balance. I pitched forward, but a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me from plowing headfirst into a little doll wearing a sombrero.
“Thanks,” I said, turning to thank the kind tourist.
Only, when I looked up, instead of a Panama hat and camera, I came face to face with the muzzle of a gun.
Chapter Nineteen
“Stand up slowly. Don’t make any sudden moves,” a voice said. I couldn’t have told you who it came from, though, as my entire being was focused on the gun barrel pointed right at my forehead.
I complied, slowly easing myself upright, hands up in a surrender motion. I squinted through the colorful lights, trying to make out the face behind the menacing weapon, but it was obscured by the shifting shadows. All I could tell from the voice was that the person was female.
“What do you want?” I asked, even though the gun leveled at me was a pretty clear signal she didn’t want to play Parcheesi.
“I want you,” the voice said.
“You want me to what?”
“Shut up.”
My gaze darted around for Cal. I caught his retreating back as he protectively put an arm around Aunt Sue, leading her out the exit. God bless him, he was still worried about her getting caught.
Unfortunately, that left me high and dry.
“Back up,” the voice said, taking a step closer, the gun jutting into my chest. “Behind that tower.”
I glanced behind me, a looming tower painted in sparkles and glitter with a handful of dolls wearing fruit on their heads on top, still dancing and singing.
If I had to pick my least favorite place to die, this would probably be it. Could there be a worse fate than the strains of this stupid song being the last thing on earth that you ever hear?
However, considering I wasn’t the one with the gun, I had little choice. I backed up, praying that one of the ladies in the cheery blue uniforms would see us.
No such luck. Between herding tourists, the colorful lights, the singing dolls, and the boats backing up one after another behind us, no one even glanced our way.
I walked slowly backward, deliberately veering to the left, where a stream of pink light shone down from overhead. As my captor followed me, the light played across her face.
I sucked in a breath. “You! You’re the one that’s been threatening me?”
Lani Cline chuckled. “Gee, what tipped you off, Sherlock?”
I narrowed my eyes at Jennifer Wood’s co-star. Hey, you try being brilliant when you’ve got a gun pointed at your tatas.
“You killed Hattie Carmichael,” I said, the gears in my head churning overtime.
“Who?” she asked.
“My neighbor.”
“The old lady in your condo?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure she could see me through the darkness.
“Look, I swear she was an accident,” Lani said, in her perky fake-teen voice. “All I meant to do was trash your place, scare you. But this nosy old hag comes barging in like she owns the place, yelling about the TV being too lou
d. I didn’t have any choice. I had to shut her up.”
“So you killed her,” I said, my throat thick with emotion. So Mrs. C hadn’t been my favorite person in the world. In fact, she was kind of a pain in the butt. But to hear her talked about as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience grated on my nerves.
“I just meant to shut her up. That old thing had a set of lungs on her like you wouldn’t believe. So, I grabbed a bookend and hit her on the head.”
“But why?” I asked, taking a small step back, my butt coming up against a wall. I tried to feel around behind me for anything I could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, dolls are notoriously safe. I shifted to the left slightly, trying to get a good look around the tower for any sort of escape route. To my right, Lani stood holding the gun. To my left was a line of dolls glued to the floor. If I could distract Lani long enough, I might have a chance of jumping over them… “I mean, why threaten me in the first place?” I asked. “I never even wrote about you?”
Suddenly Lani’s perky little face scrunched up into an ugly mass of anger. “That’s the problem! Three years I’ve been on that moronic show, having to play second fiddle to some nit-wit teenager. I’m a classically trained actress. I played Ophelia at Harvard!”
I squinted through the darkness, getting my first real close-up look at Lani. Unlike her character, I realized she was much older than I’d thought. Early to mid twenties at least. And by the way her eyes were taking on a wide, feverish look, I could well imagine her playing the crazed Shakespeare heroine.
“I have a masters in fine art,” she went on, “I studied under the finest acting coaches of our time. And what do I get in return? Does anyone recognize my talent? No! Instead, you print stories about that twit Jennifer flashing her boobs!”
“So, you threatened me to make the stories about Jennifer stop?” I asked. I shifted to the left again, closing the gap between me and escape. Just a few inches more. I just had to keep her talking and wait for my opening.
“Exactly. Why should some trashionista get all the press?” Lani smiled, a creepy thing that never quite reached her eyes. “And, to kill two birds with one stone, I framed Jennifer. The first step was making the phone call from her production company’s offices. Of course, I had to disguise my voice, but I was sure you’d be able to trace the call. Then, when no one was looking, I snuck into the hair and make-up trailer and grabbed Jennifer’s hairbrush, leaving strands of her long blonde locks all over your place when I trashed it. Total DNA dump.” She frowned. “Didn’t you find the hair?”
“DNA takes ten days to process,” I said. Then took another tiny left-ward step. “Even if the police found it, their lab won’t have results back for another week at least.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s crap. It only takes a couple minutes on CSI.”
“CSI is a TV show.”
She gave me a blank stare, not getting my point. “You were supposed to be freaked into quitting. You were supposed to stop printing those stupid stories about Jennifer.” She frowned again. “Only you didn’t stop.”
“Oops, my bad,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“Shut up!” She took a step toward me, waving the gun at me.
I’m no dummy. I shut up.
“So, when it became clear you were going to be a problem, I went with plan B.”
I hated to ask. “Plan B?”
She nodded again, her sleek hair shimmering a twisted blue in the pastel lighting. “Up the stakes. That’s what my acting coaches always say to do when a scene is lagging. So, I upped the stakes by framing Jennifer for not only threatening you, but your murder. If Jennifer was arrested, guess who’d be in line as the new star of Pippi Mississippi?”
Personally I had a hard time picturing the show going on without Jennifer. Lani the Loon just doesn’t have the same ring to it. But it was clear this chick had passed sane thought at least one dead body ago.
“That’s when you planted the bomb on my bike?” I prompted, glancing to my left. One more step, and I’d be close enough to leap over the line of dolls.
Lani shrugged. “It was easy enough to boost some items from the pyrotechnics division on the lot.” She did a short laugh. “Besides, what kind of freak drives a pink motorcycle anyway?”
If she hadn’t been holding a gun, I would have given her the finger. As it was, I just gritted my teeth in the dark.
“And now,” she said, “it’s time to finish this act.” She took a step closer, closing the precious gap I’d created between us. “As much as I’ve enjoyed ad-libbing with you, Tina, this scene needs to come to an end so our heroine can finally get what’s coming to her.”
Her eyes took on a cold, determined look, glazing over, void of any type of emotion. Her fingers tightened on the trigger.
And I swear it was all I could do to not pee my pants. I dragged in a deep breath, inhaling the scents of recirculated water and dusty displays. Unless I wanted to die among the children of the world, it was now or never.
I jumped to the left, diving over the three-foot-tall line of singing dolls, landing head first on the other side. I scraped my elbow on a fake burro, but I hardly even noticed, my entire being focused on the sound of Lani swearing behind me, tripping over the dolls, coming toward me, gun drawn.
I bolted upright. Considering she was between me and the exit now, the only choice I had was to run deeper into the ride. Which I did, dodging the displays of little arms swinging, bodies twirling, tiny animals riding bicycles, heading full bore toward the next room.
I made it just as I heard the sound of Lani’s feet pounding after me. I ducked behind a display of mermaids floating in the South Seas.
“I know you’re in here, Bender. You can’t hide forever!” Lani threatened, toppling over a display of fish.
I gingerly felt the wall behind me for any sign of an exit behind the curtains in this room. Unfortunately, none.
Even more unfortunately, I tripped over a coral reef, alerting Lani to my location.
“Aha. I’ve got you,” she shouted, jumping out from behind a conch shell.
Only this time I was ready for her. I grabbed a piece of plastic seaweed and swung at her head, smacking her right in the temple.
“Uhn.” She went down, tumbling backward and knocking into a hula girl. I didn’t wait to see if she got up, bolting for the next room.
I flew past North America, charging right into the children of the world room, cursing that song with every step. I was going to have to scrub my brain with bleach to ever get it out.
Assuming I survived.
I rounded the corner, and the end was finally in sight. I could see daylight at the end of the very long (how freaking long was this ride anyway?) tunnel. I pumped my legs for all I was worth, not even caring how many little people I knocked over on my dash for freedom.
One that was cut short when I heard the crack of a gunshot behind me.
“Make another move and you’re a dead woman!”
I saw the gunshot hit the little dancing cowboy next to me right between the eyes. I liked my forehead hole free. So, I froze.
In a second, Lani was beside me, pressing the gun to my rib cage again.
“God, you’re fast.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Hey, how did you even get a gun in here? They check at security.”
Lani laughed at me again, the same tinkling thing she did every week in the fake hallways of her fake high school with her fake best friend. “I’m on Pippi Mississippi. I’m a star. You think anyone’s gonna frisk me?”
Suddenly, I really, really hated that show.
“Now, time to take your final bow, Bender,” she said, and I heard the gun cock at my side.
I closed my eyes, sucked in a breath. Thought of Aunt Sue and wondered who was going to remind her to turn off the oven? To wear a scarf in the winter? To tip the pizza delivery boy when she burned dinner every night?
And, oddly enough, I thought of Cal. How pissed he was going
to be when he found my dead body. I didn’t want Cal’s last thoughts about me to be pissed ones.
I felt a tiny tear gather in the corner of my eye, slipping down my cheek as the gun pressed painfully into my ribs. I waited for that last loud bang to go off.
Only, instead I heard the sound of motors whirling, gears turning. I looked down. The boats were starting to move in the moat again. The ride was back on.
“Shit,” Lani mumbled, her gaze following mine as a boat full of tourists eased into the room.
Quickly she herded me behind a display tower, fumbling in the curtain until she found an exit door. She pushed it open, shoving me out in front of her.
The sudden onslaught of sunlight blinded me. I blinked, trying to make my eyes adjust, as Lani propelled me forward, gun still pressing into my ribs.
“Don’t try anything funny,” she said. And I wondered what cheesy movie she’d gotten that line from. Only, I knew better than to ask. She was one small step from the edge, and I didn’t want to be the first person she pulled over with her. Instead, I scanned the crowds suddenly at our sides for help.
We were threading our way around the front of the Small World building, past the Matterhorn, into the thick of the Fantasyland crowd. Hundreds of people bounced against us on either side. Surely someone would notice the girl being held hostage with the gun.
Or not.
Have you ever noticed how self-contained most people are? Every single person in that place had blinders on, focused on making the most of their vacations, oblivious to the people around them. I sent pleading looks to the young families standing in line at the Tea Cups. I mouthed “help me” to the goth kids waiting for the Dumbo ride. I shot alarmed, eyebrows drawn together, desperate tilting of my head toward the chick with the gun looks to the older couple holding hands by the carousel.
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