I kick his butt?

I shake my head very slowly. “Live to fight another day,” I shout, startling everyone around me. “For you are the Dwarf of Destiny!”

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“What’s that for?” Employee #741 is on the scene now. He presses the barrel of his gun into my side.

“He’s crazy,” Employee #221 says. “Call security again.”

“Roger that.” Employee #741 speaks into his walkie-talkie.

Gonzo has heard. He looks a little sad as he nods. There’s not much I can do without alerting the guys to his presence. And so I put up my palm. It’s not really a wave, not a goodbye or a hello, just a hand, a Hey, I see you. He gives me a palm right back. I see you, too. And then he does what he should; he folds into the swarm of people trying to have a good time and make a few memories, just another face in the crowd.

“We’re taking him in for processing,” Employee #741 says, and I know what that means.

My throat is tight and my eyes sting. I’m close to crying. I’ve gotten all the way here just to fail at the last minute.

“Can I ask you something? What do you guys think you’re going to accomplish with all this? I mean, honestly, how can you prepare for the unpredictable?”

“Just shut up.”

They sit me down, and suddenly, I’m pissed. Fuck this. I will not shut up. “It’s a small world after all …,” I sing. “It’s a small world after all. …”

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“What are you doing? Stop singing,” the agent commands, and it just makes me angrier.

“… a small, small world!” I sing even louder.

“Oh, I love it when they give you entertainment in line,” a lady in a big sun hat says.

The guy hits me hard with the gun. I double over.

“Hey,” a guy in line says. “What are you doing? He’s a kid.”

“Sir, we’re with United Snow Globe Wholesalers, working to protect you.”

“Stay out of it, pal. Let the pros handle it,” another guy in line advises the first.

“Exactly,” Employee #457 says. “This is a matter of security.”

“No. It’s a matter of abuse,” the dad says.

I keep singing. “… world of laughter, a world of tears …”

The kids don’t know what’s going on. But they know the song. And they start to sing along.

“That’s it, kids!” I shout. “We’re putting this on TV, so everybody needs to grab a partner and sing really, really loud!”

At the mention of TV, the line goes nuts. The USGW vigilantes aren’t expecting this. And that’s all I need. Okay, coyote mofo man. Get your anvil ready. Come and get my road-runner ass.

I bolt for Tomorrowland and hope my legs hold out.

“Hey! Stop!” the agents yell behind me. “Don’t make us shoot!”

He can’t shoot me. I’m a kid. And this is Disney World. There’s no shooting at Disney World. Beside me, there’s a blinding flash, and a family of four buying cotton candy becomes an instant plastic tableaux behind glass.

Fast as I can, I duck around the Mad Tea Party ride; darting in and out of the crowds, I make it past the Speedway, and finally I can see colorful planets of Tomorrowland. Shit. I’m gasping for breath. Vision’s blurry. Behind me, I can hear screaming and shouts. The snow globe men are close.

The lines for everything are twenty minutes deep at least. Except for the Tomorrowland Transit Authority.

“Excuse me!” I shout, staggering up the ramp, pushing past the few people in line. Before anyone can object, I hop onto the moving conveyor belt, past the attendant, who can only get out a lame “Hey, watch it” as I fall into the seat of the tram. I stay low, out of sight as the little tram glides into a tunnel toward the Carousel of Progress.

My heart’s beating as fast as the drum break in “Cypress Grove Blues.” I’m alert, eyes peeled, ears open, totally awake and alive. I’m waiting for a signal, a sign that I’m in the right place. A narrator’s voice drones into the darkness. He sounds like he should be selling cars in an old newsreel. The train slows in front of a window showing a diorama of Tomorrowland. The narrator tells us this is a vision of the future: a place where people can live, work, and play in harmony. Some posters show machines that do things for you. Robots. The standard-issue sci-fi stuff. I guess at one point this was cutting-edge. It was a dream.

The tram jolts around a corner, and suddenly, the tunnel goes totally dark. I can’t see my hand in front of my face. It makes my pulse jump in my throat. Is this it? Are they coming for me?

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