The opening chords of an electronic guitar punctuated the early morning calm, as though throngs of fans would immediately be stilled into the tranquil dance of song. Sunlight illuminates the stage, spreading rays amongst the tattered remains of receipts and discarded gum wrappers. As the first few lines of verse bleed forth, a slithering hand strikes, silencing the lead singer, forever trapping them within the confines of the small alarm clock. Slowly, the hand retracts, finding shelter once more within the confines of the striped cotton sanctuary. A tuft of brown grass lazily blows in the air conditioning, as the sanctuary returns to a still slumber. Moments later, the shriek of The Who erupt from the cell phone. The hand returns once more to silence the beast, but stutters, realizing the phone is not perched upon the wooden sacrificial alter, but has crept down between the bed and nightstand. The cave rumbles alive, casting off the sheets as the grass evolves into a head of tussled hair connected to a sleep stained face. As the hunt continues, the shades are struck, allowing the morning light to paint further into the room, illuminating a stack of books piled next to bags of souvenirs. An i.d. card and badge rest atop dull black work shoes tucked beneath black slacks and a tie with a smattering of color draped across a white button down shirt. Slowly the cell phone is reeled in, protesting against the strain of the power cable. A button is depressed and Teenage Wasteland falls on deaf ears. Cal yawns wide, rubbing the early day haze from his eyes. He reaches across the bed, glancing outside. The first rays of the Monday morning light greet him, slinking between the swaying branches of palm trees. Another perfect March day. The first day off in months, Cal realizes, allowing his face to deform to showcase a set of sparkling teeth beneath a smirking smile. Cal dresses in his favorite shirt, a grunge styled black tee with a gray-sketched Mickey Mouse littering the droplets of paint from a brush upon the shirt. He quickly shaves, allowing the faint traces of left over stubble to remain. Why be completely clean-shaven, I’ve got no one to impress. He grabs a pair of converse sneakers and heads down the shag carpet hallway towards the source of nourishment. He quickly pours himself a large glass of orange juice, drops two pieces of bread in the toaster and positions the morning vitamins in a row. Always from smallest to biggest. Some routines are tough to break. Cal smiles, casting aside the pills deep within the trash. Today would be improv, he thought as he collected a notebook and the i.d. card. The apartment is silent, save for the constant orchestra of snoring coming from the far doorway. Cal closed the door quietly, no sense waking up the boys, given that they had all worked the late shift last night. He didn’t need to wake them up. They wouldn’t come anyway. It was ironic actually, Cal thought. Given that everyday he worked his life away at the parks, on the one day off he gets, he chooses to go back. The day would hold a level of the unknown he knew. Friends would meet him outside of the castle, but from there…who knows. Will it be a night of jubilation or collectiveness? It would be interesting to see. Cal turned the corner, making his way toward the bank of buses purring quietly in a line, waiting for those unlucky cast members forced to work the early shift. With a flash of the i.d., Cal found himself a seat in the exact middle, on the left side. The bus creaked alive, starting the slow crawl toward the TTC. Cal glanced around the bus, noting a couple with heads tilted together, sharing a moment of sleep before their respective shift would consume them. Others sat oblivious, forcing their concentration into the screen of ipods and cell phones. Cal shook his head, feeling the warming comforts of the sunlight on his face, the calming beat of his own heart. The peaks of the distant castle began to puncture above the treetops, and every time he saw them, his stomach rolled, a childhood glee that he would never get tired of. The notebook sat open, words and imagery coursing through the veins of each page like a life force. It was one of his best works, an introspective of the unknown realm of Disney. Some would consider it to be fiction, other’s a biography. Of course they would ask but Cal wouldn’t answer. Just smiling an all-knowing smirk. He flipped the pages back and forth, watching the story attempt to leap to life. It would take time, the ending wasn’t perfect. In honesty, the ending wasn’t written. It lacked a proper resolve. Nothing cliché, nothing involving a plot twist of robotic uprising. Today would add the creative spark Cal needed. The bus groaned, coming to a rest in the TTC, spewing its cargo as a collective line of ants; all marching together toward their different destinations. Cal pocketed the notebook, and stepped out from the line, instead choosing to walk through the entrance instead of heading toward the VIP bus, that would take those cast members deep into the depth of the utilidor. Today he was just a guest, an everyman preparing to get lost amongst vacationing families and tour groups. Rounding the TTC, the monorail slid silently by stories above speeding along the Seven Sea’s Lagoon. Cal knew that on board, children’s faces would be pressed up against the beveled glass, staring in awe at the unknown magic they would experience once stepping beneath the tresses allowing the sights of Main Street to pull them in. Families would be combat planning, preparing to wage lines and have a set schedule of what rides to go to and when planning around reservations for dinner that night. Cal frowned at that. This was one place that schedules shouldn’t be predetermined. Improvisation is the key to life. Nothing is ever going to end how you predict. He passed through security, withdrawing a shiny round button from his jeans pocket and affixed it to his shirt, stepping toward the turn stiles. “Cal!†The name swam above the tops of guests heads from three turnstiles down, where the waving hand of an eager cast member hesitantly spasmed. Cal smiled, negotiating his way thought the throng, finally managing to stand in the new line. Jenni’s smile stretched wide as Cal scanned his ticket. “Didn’t expect to be seeing you here today. Meeting up with the crew?†“In awhile,†Cal patted his chest, “I’ve got some finishing touches to bring to life.†Jenni nodded, a foreign question colliding behind her eyes. Cal waited a moment, to see if the awkwardness would settle, instead Jenni waved him through. “I get offstage around seven, let’s catch Fantasmic at nine?†Cal returned the smile, stepping inside the realm of imagination. “Just like old times.†The excitement returned. Cal’s pulse raised, his breath quickened. He could feel the fiber of his being struggling to remain under control. Part of him wanted to tear the façade away, leaving the avatar of his childhood presence standing there, staring at the distant castle spires in awe. Jenni watched him go, her eyes asking the question she couldn’t create. She wanted to chase after him, tell him the truth but instead she smiled, knowing Cal would be there waiting beneath the Hollywood Tower with popcorn in hand, his smile warming her soul. Cal walked the timeless street, allowing the smells and laughter to take his mind away from the required task at hand. Many times he had walked down this street as a child, gazing at the colors, the sights, the sounds, the…escape. He smiled at this now. Disneyworld was his escape. The place he could come to and forget the problems of the world. As his thoughts followed this path, his feet took him elsewhere by their own accord. Jenni’s smile surfaced amongst the memories, instantly returning Cal to the present. A fleeting pang etched through him, recalling the countless times that he had the opportunity to make something happen, but each time, his rationale would take over, telling him that he would never be able to match up, never be able to be the man she expected. Cal shook his head, approaching the first cart vendor and purchased a bottle of water. Cal moved through the crowd, finding a park bench directly south of the Castle’s drawbridge. He would sit here, waiting till the evening or until the ending would suffice. Neither of which he knew would come soon enough. He withdrew a pen from his pocket, pausing as a small pill rolled around in his pocket. He withdrew the pill, realizing the poetic irony this small vitamin would create for him. Cal swallowed it fast without thinking, downing the water bottle as the sun crept from Tomorrowland, settling on the eastern flank of the castle. The pill acted instantly, calming him and soon, the pen was messaging the paper, weeding out the inferior word play for a simple clear image. Cal smiled as the minutes ticked by and the pages filled. His mind blurred as the end drew near, his heart racing as the pain of victory flashed inches from his grasp. The faint hum of voices wafted from the screen as the couch creaked softly. “Cal, what are you thinking about?†Jenni asked, her head resting in the crook of his neck, her hands playing with his left hand. Cal’s eyes remained closed, the internal civil war vying for a foothold. “Why I came to work at Disneyworld.†Jenni’s head tilted, staring up into his eye quizzically. “And?†“I came here to escape.†“Escape from what?†“The outside world. The world that tells you who you are and what your role in life is to be. The place where no matter how hard you try, you aren’t seen as the good guy, just the shell.†Jenni propped herself up, her golden hair feathering down across her face, concealing her eyes. “You are the good guy Cal. You always will be.†Cal turned his head toward her, a calculated distance swirling behind his eyes. “I’m that predictable aren’t I? I’ll always be the guy waiting there to help you up, always be the guy to listen.†Jenni moved, locking him in a deep kiss. “Yes.†The pen dropped from his left hand, bouncing twice, first off the bench, then off of his left knee before clattering to a rest on the immaculate sidewalk. A passing cast member bent low, lifting up the pen. “You dropped this sir.†Cal smiled as the edges of darkness tickled the edges of his remaining life as his heart beat the final chords. “I’m not that predictable…†The golden statue of Walt Disney and Mickey stood resolute, pointing into the distance towards an unreachable dream as the distant twirling of sirens peppered the horizon before fading to dull thumps and then Silence.
