Down and Out In the Magic Kingdom by Cory Doctorow (good story books to read .txt) 📕

my mouth to speak.

"Don't say a word," he said. "Leave. Now."

"Don't stay here and don't come back. Ever

," Kim said, an evil look on her face.

"No," I said. "No goddamn it no. You're going to hear me out, and then I'm going to get Lil and her people and they're going to back me up. That's not negotiable."

We stared at each other across the dim parlor. Debra made a twiddling motion and the lights came up full and harsh. The expertly crafted gloom went away and it was just a dusty room with a fake fireplace.

"Let him speak," Debra said. Rita folded her arms and glared.

"I did some really awful things," I said, keeping my head up, keeping my eyes on them. "I can't excuse them, and I don't ask you to forgive them. But that doesn't change the fact that we've put our hearts and souls into this place, and it's not right to take it from us. Can't we have one constant corner of the world, one bit frozen in time for the people who love it that way? Why does your success mean our failure?

"Can't you see that we're carrying on your work? That we're tending a legacy you left us?"

"Are you through?" Rita asked.

I nodded.

"This place is not a historical preserve, Julius, it's a ride. If you don't understand that, you're in the wrong place. It's not my goddamn fault that you decided that your stupidity was on my behalf, and it doesn't make it any less stupid. All you've done is confirm my worst fears."

Debra's mask of impartiality slipped. "You stupid, deluded asshole," she said, softly. "You totter around, pissing and moaning about your little murder, your little health problems -- yes, I've heard -- your little fixation on keeping things the way they are. You need some perspective, Julius. You need to get away from here: Disney World isn't good for you and you're sure as hell not any good for Disney World."

It would have hurt less if I hadn't come to the same conclusion myself, somewhere along the way.

===


I found the ad-hoc at a Fort Wilderness campsite, sitting around a fire and singing, necking, laughing. The victory party. I trudged into the circle and hunted for Lil.

She was sitting on a log, staring into the fire, a million miles away. Lord, she was beautiful when she fretted. I stood in front of her for a minute and she stared right through me until I tapped her shoulder. She gave an involuntary squeak and then smiled at herself.

"Lil," I said, then stopped. Your parents are home, and they've joined the other side

.

For the first time in an age, she looked at me softly, smiled even. She patted the log next to her. I sat down, felt the heat of the fire on my face, her body heat on my side. God, how did I screw this up?

Without warning, she put her arms around me and hugged me hard. I hugged her back, nose in her hair, woodsmoke smell and shampoo and sweat. "We did it," she whispered fiercely. I held onto her. No, we didn't

.

"Lil," I said again, and pulled away.

"What?" she said, her eyes shining. She was stoned, I saw that now.

"Your parents are back. They came to the Mansion."

She was confused, shrinking, and I pressed on.

"They were with Debra."

She reeled back as if I'd slapped her.

"I told them I'd bring the whole group back to talk it over."

She hung her head and her shoulders shook, and I tentatively put an arm around her. She shook it off and sat up. She was crying and laughing at the same time. "I'll have a ferry sent over," she said.

===


I sat in the back of the ferry with Dan, away from the confused and angry ad-hocs. I answered his questions with terse, one-word answers, and he gave up. We rode in silence, the trees on the edges of the Seven Seas Lagoon whipping back and forth in an approaching storm.

The ad-hoc shortcutted through the west parking lot and moved through the quiet streets of Frontierland apprehensively, a funeral procession that stopped the nighttime custodial staff in their tracks.

As we drew up on Liberty Square, I saw that the work-lights were blazing and a tremendous work-gang of Debra's ad-hocs were moving from the Hall to the Mansion, undoing our teardown of their work.

Working alongside of them were Tom and Rita, Lil's parents, sleeves rolled up, forearms bulging with new, toned muscle. The group stopped in its tracks and Lil went to them, stumbling on the wooden sidewalk.

I expected hugs. There were none. In their stead, parents and daughter stalked each other, shifting weight and posture to track each other, maintain a constant, sizing distance.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lil said, finally. She didn't address her mother, which surprised me. It didn't surprise Tom, though.

He dipped forward, the shuffle of his feet loud in the quiet night. "We're working," he said.

"No, you're not," Lil said. "You're destroying. Stop it."

Lil's mother darted to her husband's side, not saying anything, just standing there.

Wordlessly, Tom hefted the box he was holding and headed to the Mansion. Lil caught his arm and jerked it so he dropped his load.

"You're not listening. The Mansion is ours

. Stop

. It

."

Lil's mother gently took Lil's hand off Tom's arm, held it in her own. "I'm glad you're passionate about it, Lillian," she said. "I'm proud of your commitment."

Even at a distance of ten yards, I heard Lil's choked sob, saw her collapse in on herself. Her mother took her in her arms, rocked her. I felt like a voyeur, but couldn't bring myself to turn away.

"Shhh," her mother said, a sibilant sound that matched the rustling of the leaves on the Liberty Tree. "Shhh. We don't have to be on the same side, you know."

They held the embrace and held it still. Lil straightened, then bent again and picked up her father's box, carried it to the Mansion. One at a time, the rest of her ad-hoc moved forward and joined them.


This is how you hit bottom. You wake up in your friend's hotel room and you power up your handheld and it won't log on. You press the call-button for the elevator and it gives you an angry buzz in return. You take the stairs to the lobby and no one looks at you as they jostle past you.

You become a non-person.

Scared. I trembled when I ascended the stairs to Dan's room, when I knocked at his door, louder and harder than I meant, a panicked banging.

Dan answered the door and I saw his eyes go to his HUD, back to me. "Jesus," he said.

I sat on the edge of my bed, head in my hands.

"What?" I said, what happened, what happened to me?

"You're out of the ad-hoc," he said. "You're out of Whuffie. You're bottomed-out," he said.

This is how you hit bottom in Walt Disney World, in a hotel with the hissing of the monorail and the sun streaming through the window, the hooting of the steam engines on the railroad and the distant howl of the recorded wolves at the Haunted Mansion. The world drops away from you, recedes until you're nothing but a speck, a mote in blackness.

I was hyperventilating, light-headed. Deliberately, I slowed my breath, put my head between my knees until the dizziness passed.

"Take me to Lil," I said.

Driving together, hammering cigarette after cigarette into my face, I remembered the night Dan had come to Disney World, when I'd driven him to my -- Lil's

-- house, and how happy I'd been then, how secure.

I looked at Dan and he patted my hand. "Strange times," he said.

It was enough. We found Lil in an underground break-room, lightly dozing on a ratty sofa. Her head rested on Tom's lap, her feet on Rita's. All three snored softly. They'd had a long night.

Dan shook Lil awake. She stretched out and opened her eyes, looked sleepily at me. The blood drained from her face.

"Hello, Julius," she said, coldly.

Now Tom and Rita were awake, too. Lil sat up.

"Were you going to tell me?" I asked, quietly. "Or were you just going to kick me out and let me find out on my own?"

"You were my next stop," Lil said.

"Then I've saved you some time." I pulled up a chair. "Tell me all about it."

"There's nothing to tell," Rita snapped. "You're out. You had to know it was coming -- for God's sake, you were tearing Liberty Square apart!"

"How would you know?" I asked. I struggled to remain calm. "You've been asleep for ten years!"

"We got updates," Rita said. "That's why we're back -- we couldn't let it go on the way it was. We owed it to Debra."

"And Lillian," Tom said.

"And Lillian," Rita said, absently.

Dan pulled up a chair of his own. "You're not being fair to him," he said. At least someone was on my side.

"We've been more than fair," Lil said. "You know that better than anyone, Dan. We've forgiven and forgiven and forgiven, made every allowance. He's sick and he won't take the cure. There's nothing more we can do for him."

"You could be his friend," Dan said. The light-headedness was back, and I slumped in my chair, tried to control my breathing, the panicked thumping of my heart.

"You could try to understand, you could try to help him. You could stick with him, the way he stuck with you. You don't have to toss him out on his ass."

Lil had the good grace to look slightly shamed. "I'll get him a room," she said. "For a month. In Kissimmee. A motel. I'll pick up his network access. Is that fair?"

"It's more than fair," Rita said. Why did she hate me so much? I'd been there for her daughter while she was away -- ah. That might do it, all right. "I don't think it's warranted. If you want to take care of him, sir, you can. It's none of my family's business."

Lil's eyes blazed. "Let me handle this," she said. "All right?"

Rita stood up abruptly. "You do whatever you want," she said, and stormed out of the room.

"Why are you coming here for help?" Tom said, ever the voice of reason. "You seem capable enough."

"I'm going to be taking a lethal injection at the end of the week," Dan said. "Three days. That's personal, but you asked."

Tom shook his head. Some friends you've got yourself

, I could see him thinking it.

"That soon?" Lil asked, a throb in her voice.

Dan nodded.

In a dreamlike buzz, I stood and wandered out into the utilidor, out through the western castmember parking, and away.

I wandered along the cobbled, disused Walk Around the World, each flagstone engraved with the name of a family that had visited the Park a century before. The names whipped past me like epitaphs.

The sun came up noon high as I rounded the bend of deserted beach between the Grand Floridian and the Polynesian. Lil and I had come here often, to watch