“And so can your small lies,” said Amanda, who still didn’t know if she could trust this woman. She might not have anything to do with Wayne whatsoever.
If not, then what had been her purpose in coming to the Nash House, and what damage had they done by talking to her?
“I realize it may be asking a lot to expect you to trust me. My father has spent the past ten years training me in all things Disney. It’s a matter of pride for him. He loves the parks…well…like he loves his own children. And that’s me. With or without you, I’m going to do whatever it takes to find him, to rescue him.” Her voice choked and she looked down, breaking eye contact with Amanda. “My father has spent basically his whole life making the parks magical places—including creating the DHIs, I might add. The Overtakers will do whatever is necessary to corrupt the parks, to drive guests away, to ruin the experience for everyone. Whether or not they have ambitions beyond the parks, who knows? But I’m not going to allow everything my father has worked for to be taken away. At least, not without a fight. Maybe you don’t trust me—I can’t speak to that. But I can tell you it isn’t easy for me to put my faith in a bunch of kids. That may sound harsh, but that’s just being honest. That’s not a little lie, or a big lie, but the truth. But I don’t know where else to turn, and my father believes in your friends. He believes very deeply in them. He thinks they can accomplish what he has not been able to. I’ve never doubted my father, and I’m not going to start now. That’s about it. That’s about all I can tell you.”
“What’s it like?” Jess asked, her voice soft and comforting.
“Excuse me?” Wanda asked.
“Having a father?” Jess said. “We’ve…neither of us…” Her voice trailed off.
“It’s amazing. It’s the best there is.”
Amanda swallowed deeply. She had a decision to make that wasn’t easy. “I know where you can find them—our friends,” she said. “I think they could probably use your help.”
Wanda pursed her lips. Her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you! Thank you for trusting me! You won’t be sorry,” she said. “I promise.”
11
THE TRIP FROM THE MAGIC KINGDOM to Hollywood Studios was a strange mixture of an eerie sense of nothingness combined with a heart-stopping awareness of imminent danger. Things Finn had taken for granted, like having a bus driver hold the door open, were not available to the invisible. Only he, Charlene, and Philby made it on board the first bus; Willa and Maybeck were left behind as the driver, seeing no one, shut the bus door, closing them out. For the fifteen-minute ride to the Transportation Center Finn hadn’t been sure which of them had made it on with him. Once at the center, he tried talking, only to discover that he had no voice. Sound, it turned out, was part of the projection process. Until he reached Hollywood Studios, he was not only invisible but wholly alone in a way he’d never experienced before. It was a condition, a state, he found unsettling and frightful: no one heard him; no one felt his presence.
“It was as if I didn’t exist,” he told Charlene once they were both through the turnstiles. Entering the Studios had been tricky. He’d had no idea when, or even if, the projectors would pick up and start displaying his DHI. To complicate matters, he spotted two night watchmen. They might allow characters their freedom, as Wayne had told him, but they wouldn’t appreciate kids running around.
He’d timed his entry until a guard passed. He made a run for it: straight up the street toward the Kodak shop. One second he was invisible, the next a glowing blur of colorful light. He could see his arms and legs. As it turned out, Charlene was right behind him. The two sprinted up the empty street together, their attention on the back of the guard who’d just passed.
“You!” came a man’s voice.
A different guard; one neither of them had seen.
He and Charlene skidded to a stop.
“Do as I do,” Finn said under his breath.
Suddenly Philby appeared from the turnstiles. Thankfully the guard’s attention had been on Finn and Charlene at the time, meaning that he missed a boy appearing out of thin air.
“Hello, there, park visitor! My name is Finn,” Finn said in an extraordinarily happy voice. “Can I help show you Disney’s Hollywood Studios?” He struck a pose—one hand out, the other on his hip.
Charlene caught on. Like Finn, she had little difficulty recalling the lines she had once said repeatedly during the DHI recording sessions.
“Hello, there, park visitor. I’m Charlene, a Disney Host Interactive. I’m sorry, but I’m not able to read your identification pin. Please recite the guest number on your Disney Pass and I’d be happy to show you around.”