by Kate Moseman
Vanessa felt a blush develop on her cheeks.
Thankfully, Mr. Destiny didn’t notice. He continued his rant. “Thomas is not training the new hires sufficiently.”
That’s all they could come up with?
“I would be happy to speak with them to correct these issues,” said Vanessa, knowing full well the conversation was not headed in that direction.
“For some of them, yes. But the other crew members won’t take it seriously unless there are real consequences.”
Oh, no. Please don’t.
“So pick one. Let ‘em go,” he said.
Vanessa felt like a trap door had opened under her feet. “You know those are the four crew members on the organizing committee.” It was a statement, not a question.
Mr. Destiny stared her down. “Totally unrelated.”
“It doesn’t look unrelated,” Vanessa said.
He shrugged. “It would look related if we fired all of them. Hypothetically speaking. Which we’re not.” He stood up. “Do it before the vote. Let me know when it’s done.” He left Vanessa alone in her office.
Her thoughts tumbled over each other. Had she erred by not broadcasting enough enthusiasm for busting the union? Did the shattered Silver Mirror tip him over the edge to pure retaliation?
Or had he just decided to pull out all the stops in his hellbent attempt to stop the crew members from unionizing?
She’d tried so hard to keep everything in balance, and she’d failed.
How on earth could she select someone to fire when none of them deserved to be fired?
Quitting wouldn’t save anyone. They’d just find someone else to wield the ax.
Anger boiled up within her. The injustice of it all! Vanessa shot out of her seat and nearly knocked over the chair. Her hands tingled as she reached for the schedule binder.
Thomas. Thomas, where are you? She flipped the pages until she found him. American Dream. She did her best to compose herself before exiting the office. The spread of panic and rumors wouldn’t help her or her crew members.
Vanessa entered American Dream through the back. The show played in the dimly lit theater, making her pause to give her eyes time to adjust to the darkness.
She spotted Thomas in the audience and sat down next to him. “We need to talk,” she said. “Privately.”
Thomas checked his watch. “I’m on lunch at 12:00. Can you get free?”
“Yes, but where can we meet?”
Thomas considered. “Ride Ghost Factory just before 12:00. I’ll make sure Paulina’s at the unloading station and I’ll meet you when you get off the ride. No one but Paulina will see us. Then we can go somewhere private to talk.”
The show was coming to an end, leaving them only seconds before the lights came up, but she couldn’t help wondering where he had in mind.
“Where is it?” asked Vanessa.
“It’s … hard to explain. You’ll understand when you see it,” said Thomas.
Vanessa stood up and hurried to the exit with the American Dream finale echoing behind her.
She spent the remainder of the morning in her office, poring over the “Union-Free Toolbox” and “Union-Free for You and Me” in hopes of discovering a way out of her terrible conundrum.
A close reading of the text produced no obvious answers, but it did unearth a sliver of hope. One passage revealed that a terminated employee could appeal to an independent labor board for reinstatement if he or she believed the termination was a result of legally protected union organizing activities. Since the chapter was written with a union-busting slant, it focused on how to avoid run-ins with the labor board—but the information was helpful all the same.
A glance at the clock revealed the nearness of the noon hour. Vanessa reshelved the handbooks and set out for Ghost Factory.
Thomas
Thomas smoothed his Ghost Factory waistcoat and brushed off the shoulders of his jacket, then shoved his hands into his pockets in an attempt to stop fidgeting.
“Are you okay?” asked Paulina.
“Oh, yeah,” said Thomas. He stared at the never-ending stream of carriages, hoping with the approach of each trundling ride vehicle that Vanessa would emerge at last.
He caught a flash of red hair from an approaching carriage.
It was Vanessa. She stepped onto the moving walkway, which carried her to Thomas and Paulina at the end of the unloading area.
“This way,” said Thomas.
He escorted her behind a barrier parallel to the walkway and along a brick wall to a door hidden in a dark corner of the unloading area. Thomas opened it. “Stairs. Watch your step,” he said.
After closing the door behind them, he followed her down the steep staircase. They stood face to face in a long room—more like a dead-end hallway—lined with abandoned mechanical figures.
“What is this place?” she said.
“Storage. They put spare or broken mechanical figures in here.” He patted the disembodied head of a ghost horse.
“Festive,” said Vanessa.
“But private,” said Thomas. “If a bit claustrophobic. So, what’s wrong? How can I help?”
Vanessa rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know how to make this sound any better than it is, so I’m just going to say it straight out.”
“Go ahead,” said Thomas. “I’m listening.”
“Mr. Destiny ordered me to fire one of the Legacy organizers.”
“Which one?”
“That’s just it,” said Vanessa. “He doesn’t care. ‘Pick one,’ he said.” Vanessa looked disgusted. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Did he say why? Like, explicitly?” asked Thomas.
“He made up some garbage about what you all did wrong—nothing to do with unionizing, of course—and when I called him on it he gave me some mealy-mouthed response. I know he’s just trying to frighten the crew members into voting ‘no,’ but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
The desperation in her voice tore through him. “If someone is wrongfully fired for organizing, they can appeal to get their job back,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “But that’s not a guarantee. And it doesn’t prevent the other crew members from getting scared off the whole idea of a union. One termination could be all it takes to torpedo everything you’ve done.”
“Maybe not,” said Thomas. “What if … what if you fired someone like he wants you to, but the crew members think you did it for a legitimate reason?”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Vanessa.
“Mr. Destiny wants you to fire a union organizer to send a message, right?”
“Right,” said Vanessa.
“Well, what if you fire someone, but lose the message? Mr. Destiny thinks you did his evil bidding, the crew members don’t connect the firing to the union, and everyone’s happy.”
“Except the person who got fired.”
“True. But I’m sure I’ll recover quickly,” said Thomas.
“You’ll recover—you’re volunteering to get fired?”
“It’s the only way.”
“You can’t do this,” she said.
“Vanessa, we’re so close. Help me. Help me do this, please.”
Vanessa’s lips pressed together and a wrinkle appeared on her forehead. “How could it look like you were being fired for something else?”
Thomas thought fast. “All we need is a rumor. If one of the crew sees me do something that’s grounds for instant termination, they’ll spread the story to the rest of the crew. They’ll think I got fired for that, not for organizing.”
“Won’t Mr. Destiny hear about it?” said Vanessa.
“Not likely. He pays as much attention to crew members as that horse does.” Thomas pointed to the horse head.
Vanessa laughed in spit
e of herself. “All right. Let’s say I take you up on this crazy plan. What can I fire you for?”
“Safety. If I do something unsafe, I have to be fired.”
“So you have to do something unsafe, in front of me, where other crew members can witness it?” said Vanessa.
“Then they spread the story of why I got fired, yes,” said Thomas. “But Mr. Destiny will think it’s because he told you to fire someone.”
“This is insane,” said Vanessa.
“I’m open to other options,” said Thomas.
Vanessa threw her hands up in the air. “You know as well as I do there aren’t any. What will happen after? Will you appeal to get your job back?”
“Of course. And if that doesn’t pan out—well, I’ll find something. After all, we toasted to new beginnings, didn’t we?” He poured all his charm into a teasing smile.
“You—” she started. “You’re insufferable.”
“But you like me anyway,” said Thomas.
Chapter 19
Vanessa
The crisp, clear fall sky would have been a joy to behold, if the election deadline weren’t bearing down like a hurricane.
A hurricane would have suited Vanessa’s mood better.
She went over the plan in her mind, one more time, but could find no fault.
The opening move: to get Dirk out of the way.
She tracked him down in the underground break room.
He sat at one of the wobbly tables with a pile of papers and a pen—which was strange, because there were perfectly good desks in the Legacy office.
She approached the table. “Dirk.”
He scrabbled the papers together and rested his arms on top.
Vanessa caught a glimpse of blank and completed fields on the top paper. “I need you to cover the parade today.”
“Sure, sure,” said Dirk.
She could tell he was eager to acquiesce and get rid of her. Fair enough. It’s mutual.
With Dirk taken care of, she removed her nametag and ran upstairs to the Coffee Garden. Two Vietnamese iced coffees in hand, she retreated to the Legacy office.
“I got us some coffee,” she said to Charlotte in a sing-song tone. Vanessa held out one of the iced coffees and wiggled it from side to side as if it were dancing in midair.
“You know what I like,” said Charlotte. She reached for the coffee.
Vanessa pulled it back slightly. “Come in my office.”
“What are you on about?” Charlotte looked at Vanessa with amused suspicion.
Vanessa said nothing, but brandished the coffee one more time, with a slight smile.
“Fine,” said Charlotte. “Be mysterious.” She stood up and followed Vanessa into her office.
Vanessa closed the door and handed Charlotte a coffee. “Things are about to—how shall I put this?—hit the fan. I can’t explain exactly what’s happening, but I need you to just roll with whatever happens. It may get weird before it’s all over.”
“You’re asking me to trust you and roll with it without knowing what’s going on?”
“Yup,” said Vanessa.
Charlotte stirred her coffee. “And you’re compensating me for this with an iced coffee?”
“No, the iced coffee is because I need someone to share my bad habits.”
Charlotte laughed. “All right. I’m in. Promise me something, though.”
“Anything,” said Vanessa.
“Someday, you have to tell me the whole story,” said Charlotte.
“Charlotte, if I make it through this in one piece, I’ll spare you no detail.”
“You promise?” said Charlotte.
“Cross my heart,” said Vanessa. She checked the time. “And now I must go. I need to walk through the attractions.”
“Have fun out there,” said Charlotte. “Try not to get fired! I’d miss you. And the free coffees.”
Vanessa went to Ghost Factory first. She made a show of inspecting each station, from the front entrance to the unloading area, before moving on to American Dream. At American Dream, she confirmed that Dirk was in place for the parade while performing a walkthrough of the entrance, the lobby, the theater, and the break room.
Her hands felt cold and her heart skipped the occasional beat as she departed American Dream for Gold Rush.
She walked to the overlook.
The mine trains dove and swerved just as they always had.
Vanessa remembered her training day with Thomas and smiled to herself. Once more unto the breach.
There was no turning back now.
She forced herself to walk at a normal pace down to the attraction entrance, where she made small talk with the crew member stationed there before following the inner hallway to the break room, and then, at last, to the loading area.
Thomas stood at the controls, his Gold Rush hat rakishly tilted as usual.
She gave the control tower a cursory inspection, carefully avoiding eye contact with Thomas.
A train filled with visitors returned to the station with a roar. One crew member triggered the mechanism to open the gates to allow the visitors to exit the train. Another crew member directed visitors to the exit. A third crew member began filling the empty train with visitors.
Three witnesses. Here we go.
She approached the train with a fist aloft, the signal to “hold” the train. The gates swung closed in front of her. She leaned slightly over the gate as if to check a safety bar and let her fist drop slightly.
The train launched.
Vanessa whirled around. “Why did you send that train?” she shouted at Thomas. “I was signaling to hold!”
The crew members stared.
Thomas, eyes wide, stuttered his response. “I thought you dropped the hold signal.”
“I most certainly did not. You could have killed someone,” she said.
The next train came in, but none of the crew members moved—they were too busy watching the show.
Vanessa looked around, as if realizing for the first time that their exchange took place in full view. “Wait for your station replacement, then come to my office immediately,” she said, then stormed out.
Alone in the stairwell leading underground, she leaned against the wall and felt tremors ripple up her stomach. Her knees shook involuntarily. The brief but intense scene had sent adrenaline coursing through her.
At least it’s over.
Thomas would report to her office, she would alert Mr. Destiny, and it would be done. She took a deep breath and resumed her walk downstairs.
Thomas
The Voice of Destiny floated through the underground halls as Thomas walked up the corridor to the Legacy office.
Goodbye, Voice of Destiny. You only said what you were told to say.
He ran his hand along the wall.
Goodbye, strange underground maze.
He shifted his gaze ahead.
Goodbye … Dirk?
Thomas and Dirk traveled a collision course, both en route to the Legacy office. They arrived at the office door at the same time.
“Dirk,” said Thomas.
“Thomas,” said Dirk.
They both reached for the door handle.
Dirk flinched back.
Thomas pulled open the door and allowed Dirk to precede him into the office. Charlotte seemed to be making a valiant attempt to look studious, refusing to look up when Thomas and Dirk entered.
Thomas knocked on Vanessa’s door.
“Come in,” she called.
He shut the door behind him. “Dirk is right outside,” he whispered.
She came around the desk to stand face to face with him. “We need to sell this,” she whispered. “In case he talks to Mr. Destiny.”
Thomas raised his voice. “What do you m
ean, you’re letting me go?”
Vanessa nodded. “That’s it,” she whispered.
“I’m going to miss having a manager like you,” he whispered.
“I’m going to miss having an employee like you,” she said quietly.
He gazed into her eyes. They stood so close to one another that he could feel the warmth radiate from her. He leaned down. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“If—hypothetically speaking, of course—we were no longer in a manager-employee relationship, would it be out of line to request the pleasure of your company on a date?”
Her smile bloomed. “Hypothetically speaking, I think it would not be out of line,” she whispered. Her fingertips brushed against his.
Thomas laced his fingers through hers. “Then fire me,” he murmured.
Vanessa raised her voice for Dirk’s benefit. “I’m sorry, Thomas. There’s nothing I can do.”
Thomas lifted his free hand and slowly brought it to Vanessa’s face, brushing her cheek as softly as if it were a delicate rose. “You are amazing,” he whispered.
His next sentence was loud enough to be heard outside Vanessa’s office. “This is totally unfair!”
Vanessa echoed his movement and placed her hand along his jawline, drawing him forward.
Her lips touched his cheek with the softest kiss.
“Until we meet again,” she whispered.
Chapter 20
Vanessa
The day of the union election dawned with a flurry of activity.
Representatives from the union set up a voting station underground, watched by observers from the Destiny Park management team.
The relentless Voice of Destiny ceased broadcasting music, and instead chirped a looping monologue to encourage crew members to “Vote no!”
Upon arriving in her office, Vanessa found a note left on her desk, marked “To Vanessa from Dirk.”
Meet me this morning at the Comet Lounge.
She refolded the missive and tossed it on her desk.
Why would Dirk want to meet in a lounge in Galaxy?