Heart of Disney

We were waiting in a parking lot.

We were supposed to meet him here, but we had no idea what he looked like. He, on the other hand, knew that Scott would be wearing a loud plaid shirt and I would be wearing my orange Longhorns baseball cap. He could be anywhere, watching us, without our even being aware. The back of my neck prickled.

"So...uh....what time did he say he'd meet us?" I ventured.

"Shhh," my husband hissed, "I think that's him now."

Well over six feet tall, gaunt, with searing blue eyes that seemed to look within my soul and find me lacking in some indefinable way, he loomed before us. Our connection. Our link.

Our Disney hook-up.

"Let me tell you how this is going to go down," he barked, "you will follow me to the gates. You will stay directly behind me at all times. We will enter the park together. We will spend some time together at the park so that my employers will know that I have not sold you these passes. I will then leave to attend my golf tournament. Do you have any questions? No? Good, let's go."

And, suddenly, we were Seaman Marlow, following Mr. Kurtz into the Heart of Darkness.

K, as I will call him to protect his anonymity and avoid a lawsuit, is the relative of a colleague. She warned us that, while a nice guy, he is a little crazy. To put it mildly.

I had time to reflect upon this as we careened down back roads and short cuts into the Magic Kingdom. Speed limits, turn signals, and maintaining safe distance meant nothing to this man, and I began to wonder if free passes into the Happiest Place on Earth were really worth it, given the obvious price of life and limb we were being asked to pay.

Oh, how I wished I had remained a Christian. Oh, how I wished I still started each day with a beer and a bottle of cheap wine. Prayer and drunkeness were the only things I could believe would save me now.

Scott, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. Unleashed from my incessant nagging about his driving by the necessity of keeping up with K, he made token mutterings about doing 65 in a 25 zone and cutting off SUVs as K whimsically changed lanes, but I could tell his heart wasn't really in it. From the corner of my eye, I could see him smile.

At last we reached the park. K began to tell us his life story as he walked with us to the gates, mentioning that he had at one time been a race car driver. This I was fully prepared to believe. The rest, I'm not so sure....