He jabbed the sword at the bear. The beast saw it coming and reared back, taking a swipe at Philby. Only then did Philby realize that the bear’s rear legs were fixed to the display—it couldn’t come after them. But the bear hit the sword. Philby clutched his left hand around the grip to hold onto it and was spun like a turnstile.
He flew out of the boat.
But instead of thunking down onto the opposite display, Philby landed softly—too softly.
He lifted his head to see Maybeck’s eyes go impossibly wide. Maybeck grabbed Philby’s feet and pulled.
“Get out of there!” he said.
Philby tried, but he couldn’t move. Something was holding him. He rocked his head, not really wanting to see…
Gnomes!
There had to be a dozen of them. Tiny things, no taller than a ruler—alive!—with old-man faces and warts, and long, disgusting noses and weird ears. They supported Philby—they had caught him. But now they held onto him, claiming him as a prisoner, while Maybeck fought to keep in the boat.
Gulliver’s Travels, Philby thought.
The boat continued moving, leaving Philby behind.
Philby was wrenched at an inhuman angle, his shoulders held by the intrepid gnomes, his feet by Maybeck.
He swatted at the gnomes. One of them stabbed his hand with a miniature gnome knife—it was like getting poked by a knitting needle. Thankfully the Imagineers hadn’t armed the gnomes with sharpened weapons. Philby banged the sword over to his right, where it connected with a clank. He knew he must have hit a gnome when he felt his right shoulder jolt free. Philby next slapped the blade over his left shoulder, and now he was clear. But Maybeck had not let go; he’d moved to the back of the boat as it had moved forward and now had nowhere left to go.
All at once, Philby was being dragged half in, half out of the boat, with six angry gnomes racing on their miniature feet in a flurry to catch up to him.
The polar bear grew smaller and smaller, framed by the tunnel as the boat continued moving.
Maybeck finally hauled Philby into the boat just before they entered through the next scene’s gate—where Philby would have been knocked free and left behind.
There were trees. It was a rocky cave. The narrator said something that Philby couldn’t make out. He was trembling from head to toe.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You saved us, not me!” said Maybeck, in a rare display of humility.
Just as Philby thought he’d regained his balance, the boat dropped away, out from under them. It raced down an incline and into yet another scene. It was night. They were on the ocean under the northern lights, with an oil rig to their left.
“Cold!” Philby said, warning Maybeck, who understood what a drop in temperature meant.
Maleficent.
Darkness.
“We’re almost through,” Maybeck said.
Thankfully, a sea village appeared, not the green witch. Not this time.
Standing onshore were Willa, Charlene, Finn, Jess, and Amanda. A ship’s horn sounded.
“You guys get all the fun!” Willa complained.
“Yeah, fun!” Maybeck said, pulling his bloody hand away from his wounded shoulder.
Finn reached out and helped the two to shore.
29
THEY HID BEHIND MEXICO’S Mayan temple, where they thought it unlikely they’d be found. Willa proved herself worthy of her Girl Scout merit badge by cleaning up Maybeck’s wound. It looked nastier than it was—the line of deep scratches had stopped bleeding.
“First, I have some bad news,” Finn said. He told the others about his experience at Lost and Found, how he thought he’d touched the fob inside the locker, but that they’d have to wait until morning before trying for it again.
A depressing silence settled over the group.
“My mother is going to freak when she can’t wake me up,” Philby said.
“Mine too,” said Willa.
“Jelly can never get me out of bed,” Maybeck said, “but she’ll remember the last time. This won’t be good.”
“I wish there was something I could tell you,” Finn said.
“If we’re trapped here,” said Charlene, “shouldn’t we make the most of it?”
The others looked at her with total surprise. Charlene was usually the whiner of the group.
“Excuse me?” Willa said.
“I mean…if there’s nothing we can do about it, if we have to be here anyway…and it seems to me we do…then shouldn’t we try to find Wayne or something? What about the sword? Isn’t that why we came here in the first place?”
“Somebody pinch me,” Maybeck said.
“Charlene?” Willa said. “Is that really you?”
“Get off my case,” Charlene protested. “Listen, we’re all in big trouble, okay? Our parents, our aunt,” she said—“and our guardian,” she added, addressing Jess and Amanda—“they’re all going to lose it when we can’t be woken up. And if we do get back there—tomorrow morning—we’re going to be in big trouble because they’re going to know it has something to do with us crossing over. Who knows what happens after that? Right? I mean they could contact Disney or something, and maybe the program gets shut down again. Maybe we lose our places as Disney Hosts. I don’t know. I’m just saying if we’re going to do something, it probably should be tonight, as in right now, because my mom is going to put handcuffs on me or something. I’m going to be grounded for eternity.”