A World of Hopes and a World of Fears
BREAKING DOWN ON SMALL World isn’t that bad after all. We’d been floating in the same spot for five minutes, with panic rising at each chorus, when finally the ride operators shut off the sound, as Bert predicted they would. Unfortunately, they didn’t shut off the dolls, so Bert, Maggie, Viv, and I sat in silence with hundreds of dancing, blinking dolls surrounding us, the only noise the mechanical clicking and snapping from their mouths and dancing bodies.
It was no surprise when Maggie started to cry.
Bert shifted in the bench seat, and the boat swayed a bit. I was sitting between wailing Maggie and Bert. The afternoon was getting late, and I was getting a headache. Even though we had a nice time in the Haunted Mansion, I couldn’t entirely shake my down mood.
“I think I’m going home after this. If we ever make it out of here,” I said to Bert. I was staring at the Tahitian dolls, who were busy swinging their hips and shaking their arms. “I need a nap.”
“That’s a long drive, and I don’t think you have your license yet.”
“I meant to the hotel.” The Vacationer Inn was my second home.
“Aren’t your parents going to be there? It’s naptime on their schedule, right?”
I groaned. I was so glad to have Bert not mad at me anymore, I had mostly forgotten how my parents were both furious with me. And I was mad at them, too.
“Besides, don’t you have to meet your parents later tonight for dinner? This morning, they said—”
“Thanks a lot for reminding me!” I glared off into space.
“What are you looking at? Are you mad at me or that doll?”
“You’re both equally annoying.” And I instantly felt bad. I restrained my urge to apologize to the doll, and apologized to Bert instead. The dolls twirled beside us, clicking as they moved, looking delighted that we were there. I am sure my parents missed the days when I acted like that, too.
I fidgeted with my camera lens, and took some slow-shutter speed pictures of wiggling dolls. They would show up as a blur on the film, like quiet ghost dolls. I felt the dreaded stop as I wound my film forward—I was out of frames. I patted my bag. I was completely out of film. I had a few more rolls in my suitcase. Back at the hotel, back with my parents, who would not like me wasting so much expensive film, who would not like me spending all my hard-earned babysitting money on something they thought was unnecessary. Especially on creepy Small World doll pictures.
Bert didn’t notice my panic. “Well, you are welcome to lean on me and take a nap, Casey.” He spread his arms out, and almost touched the scenery next to the boat. His knees were practically in his chest. “We have a nice cozy spot right here.”
“Now I really have to go back to the hotel.” I held up the empty Ziploc bag.
“Out of film? You know, I think Disneyland sells film on Main Street...wait, that was probably like ten years ago,” he corrected.
“I know.” My film habit finally caught up to me. I was completely stranded, on this boat and without film. It made me feel uneasy. What if something amazing happened? How would I keep that amazing thing with me, how would I be able to take it back home, if I didn’t have my camera to make it stay? Could I remember it as well without a picture? Could I keep up this feeling? Especially with my parents insisting I was a child at best and a horrible teenager at worst? “If my parents are in the room, I’ll have to avoid them and try to find all the hiding places in my suitcase for my film.”
“Casey, why do you hide film like it’s drugs?” Bert said, a little too loudly. A mom in the row in front of us half-turned around. Now I wished Maggie’s whining would be a little louder or that even the music would start up again.
“Because to my parents, it’s an equal waste of money.” I tried to flop back into our seat, but there wasn’t enough room even for that. “They don’t understand why I want to buy film and then pay for the pictures to be developed, or to buy paper to develop and print them myself.” I shrugged. “I like it. It’s science, but it’s magic. They don’t care about that.”
Bert nodded. “I get that.” He was staring at the water by the side of the boat. He dangled his fingers in it, making swirling patters. “It’s like how I feel, when I look at my grandpa’s old notebooks and drawings. He was an engineer. He could make boring stuff look so cool—lamps, bridges, the weirdest tricycle ever.” He grinned and touched Viv’s arm. “Remember that crazy tricycle Grandpa made me?”
She smiled his same smile back at him. “Of course. You wouldn’t get off of that thing for about two years.” She looked up at him, quickly, but I caught the slight quiver of her lip. I don’t know how Bert could have noticed, since Viv was two people away from him, but he reached out to squeeze her shoulder, and she patted his hand. I noticed she still wore her wedding ring. “You were always a good boy.” Maggie pouted, and so Viv added, “Just like your sister!” and tickled Maggie.
Bert drew his arm back and played with the water again. I noticed he was careful to keep his watch out of the water by several inches.
“Do you like it? Engineering stuff?”
“He did. I guess it would be cool. You can design rides.”
“Oh, right—Imagineers.” The cutesy Disney name made me completely forget that they were actually engineers. Still, though, the way Bert was playing with the water made me ask, “Is that what you like, though?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s something else?”
“When I think of engineering or Disneyland, I think of my grandpa. I like history, too, so I could get into that or something, just for fun. And maybe take some art classes, like drawing,” he said, then added quickly, “just for fun.”
“You say ‘just for fun’ like it’s a bad thing.”
He kept quiet, and flicked water droplets from his fingertips. One somehow landed on his watch, and he instantly wiped it off on his shirt, and kept his hands on his knees.
“So when you’re all grown up and adult-like, why don’t you work in art?”
“Oh, Casey, what do you know about it anyway.” He reached into the water again, brushed the water off his hand, and nearly got drops on the cardboard scenery. Very unlike him. I realized we’d both had a disappointing day here.
“It’s—hey, what do your parents do, anyway?” I realized I didn’t know. From the look he shot at me, I could guess. One or both of them must be an engineer, too. “Bert, you can’t act like you’re interested in something just because—” I stopped myself. Even though I felt I knew Bert, I didn’t, really. How could I tell him what to do? Especially when lately I felt like I never knew what to do.
Maggie chose that second to announce to the entire boat that she needed to use the bathroom right away, and I sat in silence between her squirming and Bert sulking until we got moving 20 minutes later.
“I need to go back to the hotel,” I said to Bert, as our boat finally emerged into the too-bright sunlight and we prepared to disembark.
“Nooo, Toontown!” Maggie said, and kept on shrieking. I thought she might have an accident in the boat.
“Maggie, you guys go on to Toontown. I need to get going,” I said quietly.
She was too consumed with needing to use the bathroom to have much of a reaction. As our boat jolted to a hard stop and everyone got up and stretched before stepping out, it hit me that this might be the last time I’d see Maggie. And Viv. I watched them high-five each other to celebrate the boat trip finally being over. I had a feeling Maggie wouldn’t be begging to go on Small World again anytime soon. Even though when we were inside the ride I was too annoyed to think much of Maggie’s suffering, it hit me that it was a little heartbreaking for her, what had happened. She’d had some of the magic taken away by having the ride break down. Wasn’t she too young to have to see her dancing dolls as the robots they really were? I kind of didn’t even want to see it.
Viv shuffled off behind Maggie, who was already running for the restrooms, but glanced over her shoulder at me and Bert before leaving. She shuttled Maggie back over to us quickly, and gave Bert a big, embarrassing hug, blocking the exit, and not caring. I laughed, and so did Bert. He didn’t care, either.
She leaned over to me and patted my arm. “He is a good boy, isn’t he?” I nodded, and she gave me a big hug too, but it didn’t embarrass me. She grinned at us, and waved as Maggie pulled her away. I waved back until they were lost in the crowd.
“We’ll meet up later tonight, for the parade,” I said decisively to Bert, and he gave only the tiniest nod to me before we went our own ways. I felt a crushing pressure in my chest, and realized that the next time we said goodbye, it would be for real. “Bert, wait!” I ran over to him, already in the gift shop that was the exit.
I wanted to say I was sorry, that I didn’t mean to bring up a bad subject, and that I was sorry he felt like he should be an engineer even if he didn’t want to be one. But instead, I thought I saw my parents, and instinctively shoved my bulging Ziploc bag full of used film farther into my purse, then ducked behind a rack of toys. The woman turned and I saw it was not my mom.
“What are you doing, Casey?” Bert said.
“I thought I saw my parents,” I said. “Look, I use up a lot of film, and my parents don’t need to know that it takes me fifteen rolls to come out with maybe a dozen decent pictures, okay?” I snapped my bag closed.
“Weirdo.”
“Hey, it’s not like you don’t have parent issues, either.” I wished I had let him keep walking.
“You probably haven’t even told your parents how much you like photography. Maybe they wouldn’t even care if they knew you really liked it. They seem like they’d be happy whatever you did.” His voice had an edge.
“Sure, happy to tell me exactly what to do and how to do it. And anyway, you’re thinking of a whole adult job you don’t even want, just to get some attention from your parents!”
Bert looked like I’d hit him. I knew I was right, but it felt terrible.
“I think if you talked to them—”
“Casey, I don’t think you should give advice on being honest with parents. Do yours even know anything about you now? Photography? Kiley? Me?” From my blank face, he knew he was right, too. “You won’t even tell your parents about film, or friends, or boyf—” He stopped, recovered, and said, “friends.”
“Hold on!” I grabbed his arm. My hand was still shaking with irritation and regret at what I’d said, but my body hadn’t caught up with my head yet. “Did you say ‘boyfriend’?”
“No,” Bert said, calmly—too calmly, I thought. He adjusted the brim of his cap casually. “Of course not.”
“You did!”
“I didn’t, and even if I did, I was all distracted.” I fixed my eyes on him and he sighed. “I’m sorry, Case. You’re right. You’re the only person who tells me stuff like that, even if it is harsh. You and my grandma.” He sighed. “You’re a good...friend.” He kissed my forehead. I hung onto him.
“I’m sorry about your parents. It was mean of me. I swear, I started off trying to help.”
“Yeah, me too. You’re not the one I’m upset with. I actually thought they might show up here today.” He turned toward Toontown, looking into the crowd. “But I’m also mad that Maggie didn’t even think they’d come. I don’t know which is worse. I’m glad she wasn’t disappointed, but really, why should a little kid already need to know that her parents are flakes?” That was probably worse than the dolls, I thought. Maggie got a little too much reality, even in Disneyland.
We wandered around the gift shop. I noticed a whole display of Tinker Bell pins. Kiley would love one, I thought, automatically, before I remembered I was not even her friend anymore, much less a friend who bought her presents. But just because we weren’t friends, I couldn’t shut off my brain’s Kiley memory. Kiley and I hadn’t even gotten into any big fights; we just stopped being friends. I guess we didn’t really care enough to have a fight over it. I was starting to spiral into feeling sorry for myself again when I saw Bert clenching his jaw and hugged him hard.
“Tell your family what you want. Even if you think they don’t care, you care, and they should know.” Bert looked skeptical. “Or at least talk to your grandma,” I added, “about what you care about.” He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “I mean about your parents and your life dreams and all that stuff.”
He stretched his arms behind him in a way that made me want to grab him and wrap my arms around his back. “I can’t believe I’m taking advice from a freshman, but there’s a chance you might be right.”
“See?”
“So then wouldn’t you say that there’s the slightest chance I’m right?”
Darn. “Yeah, there might be. But...”
“Case, at least your parents care about you. I’ll probably tell my parents about wanting to go to college to study art and they’ll be convinced of my total worthlessness to them.”
“Bert, how can you say that? Of course they’ll care about you.”
“Well, they’ll at least think I’m wasting their money. They are not going to want to send me to an art school. Or even a liberal arts school.”
I gestured around us at the carefully designed environment. “Look what you can make, studying art.” Bert seemed unconvinced. “So, forget them, get a scholarship, go to community college...but it seems a lot bigger waste to spend their money studying something you don’t even like, right?” I nudged his foot.
“Or to hide what you love.” Bert turned it around on me again.
I clutched my bag, full of secret film. “I’ll work on it, okay?”
“You’ll tell them?”
“Yes. When I get back home.”
“Me too.”
“Funny how you need a freshman girl to dare you to do it,” I teased.
Bert took my hand. “Not when it’s you,” he said, and kissed me before we said goodbye.