by Kate Moseman
Vanessa read the memo aloud.
Vanessa Jones
Legacy Management
Destiny Park
Dear Ms. Jones,
In order to provide additional support to you during this time of transition, one of our management interns has been reassigned to your area. He is scheduled to join you in your office shortly to become acquainted with you before the meeting.
Regards,
Mr. Destiny
Before Charlotte could speak, someone knocked on the door. Vanessa and Charlotte looked at each other, looked at the door, and simultaneously called, “Come in!”
The office door opened to reveal a man about Charlotte’s age who proceeded to ignore Charlotte and address Vanessa. “You must be the new Legacy manager. I’m Dirk.” He nodded his head sharply, but his gelled blond hair didn’t budge.
“I’m Vanessa.” She shook hands with him, then introduced Charlotte. “This is the Legacy office secretary, Charlotte.”
Charlotte offered Dirk a half-smile that appeared to cost her a great deal of effort.
He barely glanced at Charlotte before continuing to speak to Vanessa.
“I was the management intern over in Fantasy, but Mr. Destiny thought you could use an extra hand around here. You introducing yourself to the team today?” He put his hands in his khaki pants pockets and looked remarkably sure of himself, for an intern.
“In about an hour. Have you worked here long, Dirk?”
“Oh, yes. Quite a few years now. I waited a long time for an intern position to open up.” Dirk’s eyes were the same blue color as his long-sleeved dress shirt, and his gaze met hers with calculating coolness.
And now you’re waiting for a management position to open up. Swell.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “I’m so glad to have you join us.”
Charlotte made a strangled sound that turned into a cough.
Vanessa glanced at Charlotte and continued. “However, I really must leave you to your own devices while I finish getting ready for the meeting. Charlotte, can you help me with something?” She went in her office.
Charlotte followed her and closed the door.
Both women remained standing, facing each other across the desk.
“What was that all about?” Vanessa asked.
“What was what about?” Charlotte looked far more amused than intimidated.
For heaven’s sake, I don’t have time for this. Already, she’d endured a job interview, rescued a turtle, gone down a rabbit hole into a strange underground world where she’d received not one but two odd messages from her new boss, and been saddled with an intern waiting in the wings for an open management position.
“Charlotte, I may be new here, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Obviously, you know this guy. Obviously, you’re less than thrilled he’s here. You nearly laughed in his face when I said I was glad to have him. What’s the deal?”
“You really want to know?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, please. Have a seat and tell me all about it.” She gestured with an open hand, just like she’d seen Charlotte gesture earlier.
Thus encouraged, Charlotte practically skipped into a chair, then scooted it closer to Vanessa’s desk with the air of someone bursting to share a secret.
Vanessa exhaled and sat down. Thank goodness.
“His name is Dirk. Also known as Dirk the Jerk,” said Charlotte.
Vanessa raised her eyebrows. “Dirk the Jerk? Are you serious?”
Charlotte was just getting warmed up. “He’s worked everywhere at Destiny. Upper management loves him because he’ll do anything if he thinks it will benefit him.” She made a face of distaste. “But he’s never gotten a manager job because they don’t really view him as management material. He’s bounced from Fantasy to Galaxy to Discovery to here. I’m sure he thinks he’s on his way up, but that’s just because he’s an arrogant … ” She trailed off with a smile.
“Yes, I see what you mean.” Vanessa tried to hide her own smile and failed spectacularly. “Bless their managerial hearts. I can see why they like him so much.”
The American Dream theater filled up as crew members came off their shifts on the Legacy attractions Gold Rush and Ghost Factory. Gold miners in wide-brimmed hats and scarlet neckerchiefs mixed with factory workers in Victorian garb. A handful of men and women in colonial costume closed down the theater for the day, then took their seats.
Vanessa noticed one man who, unlike the teens and twenty-somethings, was approximately her age. He sprawled into his seat and stretched out like a louche aristocrat. He ran long fingers through waves of black hair. It was almost distracting. She shifted her gaze away after holding it there for one beat too long.
Vanessa waited for everyone to settle, then walked to the center of the space in front of the stage.
“Good afternoon.” Vanessa took a slow breath in and out before continuing. “Thank you for coming today. My name is Vanessa Jones, and I am the new manager for the Legacy area. You already know Charlotte, our area secretary.” She gestured to Charlotte, who gave a little wave.
Many of the crew waved back.
“And this is Dirk, who is joining us from Fantasy as our management intern.” She turned to Dirk, who clenched both hands above his head like he was being cheered by fans, except he wasn’t.
She turned to face the audience again. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m a stranger, so here’s a little about me,” she said. “I’m new to Florida but not new to theme parks. I started working at an amusement park in my hometown when I was just 19. I worked my way up, became a manager, and I helped manage the place until it closed down last year. I’m thrilled to be at Destiny Park and I can’t wait to get to know all of you. I don’t want to keep you long,” she added, “but if you have any questions I can answer, I’ll be happy to do so.”
Several hands shot up.
“Yes, young lady in the Gold Rush costume?” Vanessa pointed to a woman in the fifth row.
“Have you heard anything about a raise?”
“Well, I just got here, so I haven’t heard anything yet, but I’ll check on it.”
A man wearing a Victorian vest and dress shirt with striped slacks raised his hand.
“Yes?” said Vanessa.
“Are you aware of the overtime issue?”
Sounds like there are several ongoing issues here. “Not yet, but I will catch up on that as soon as possible.”
They forgot to raise their hands and called out one after another.
“Is someone going to do something about the unsafe costume pieces?”
“Why are our hours getting cut back again?”
The dark-haired man Vanessa noticed earlier raised his hand.
She called on him. “Yes?”
He swept his hair back with one hand as he stood up, his height lending an air of grace to his figure.
The crowd quieted.
A faint smile played around his lips before he spoke. “Which attraction are you training on first?”
Yet another question for which she didn’t have an immediate answer. Vanessa stalled for time. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Thomas.”
“Thomas, I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to.” She glanced at Charlotte in an attempt to pick up some sort of cue.
Charlotte didn’t notice.
“New managers have to get trained on all their attractions. Which one are you doing first?” His voice, low yet resonant, easily carried across the theater.
Determined not to be at a loss for at least one question, she picked one of the three attractions at random. “American Dream,” she said. Seems appropriate.
He smiled. “I look forward to it,” he said, inclining his head in an almost courtly fashion.
Thomas
&nb
sp; Thomas sat down. Does she realize what she’s gotten into yet? If not, she soon will. I almost feel sorry for her. He observed her as she wrapped up the meeting. She had a centeredness about her that created its own gravity.
When the meeting concluded, Thomas leapt out of his seat and hurried to the front of the theater. “Charlotte! Do you have the new training roster for me yet?”
“I will as soon as I get with Vanessa.” Charlotte turned to Vanessa. “Vanessa, Thomas is the trainer for the Legacy area. He teaches new crew members how to run the attractions in our area.”
Vanessa addressed Thomas. “So that’s why you asked me that question instead of quizzing me on the issue of the day.”
Dirk interrupted. “They’re like children demanding dessert, aren’t they?”
Thomas, who up to that moment had been on the receiving end of Vanessa’s attention, slowly turned his head to Dirk. “Dirk. I hadn’t heard you were coming to Legacy. What happened in Fantasy? Did they finally learn everything you had to impart?” You idiot.
Dirk replied as if Thomas were serious. “Oh, yes, Mr. Destiny”—he dropped the name with relish—“felt it was time for a lateral move.”
“Really,” Thomas replied flatly.
Charlotte, after watching the exchange like a cat at a tennis match, turned to Vanessa. “You ready?”
“I sure am. Nice to meet you, Thomas.”
“Likewise.”
Thomas leaned against the stage and watched them walk away.
After the theater emptied, he headed underground to change out of his costume. Street clothes were more comfortable than the George Washington getup he wore when he worked American Dream, but he had to admit that the colonists exhibited a certain sense of style that was missing in modern t-shirts and jeans. He tossed the costume into a large laundry bin on his way out of the locker room.
One of the perks of working at Destiny Park was the ability to visit the park after your shift. Thomas followed the underground corridor to the nearest stairwell and took the stairs two at a time to the park above, emerging in the Fantasy area. The sun blazed like it would be summer forever, but a cool breeze hinted at the season to come.
Thomas entered the Fantasy bazaar. The scent of melted caramel beckoned him to a concession stand, where he purchased a waxed paper bag of caramel corn. Holding the warm bag safely in one hand, he slid through the bustling crowd like a ghost to emerge on the other side of the bazaar. He took a seat on a bench facing a small stage topped with a wooden awning, then contentedly popped a piece of sweet caramel corn into his mouth.
A stirring musical theme poured from the speakers. Two dancers, one man and one woman, circled each other, striking poses that highlighted their differences, swirling together then apart, tracing an invisible spiral that compelled them to meet in the center of the stage. They struck a final pose face to face, a secret smile on his lips and a sparkle in her eyes, as if there were no audience to observe them. After holding the pose, they recovered and bowed before walking gracefully offstage.
He always enjoyed watching these dancers. To see them, and to indulge in his favorite snack, had become a weekly pastime. For some reason, today’s performance left him with a slight ache in his chest. There were other acts to follow, but Thomas had seen what he had come to see. He folded up his empty bag, dropped it into one of the ubiquitous trash cans, and disappeared into the crowd.
Chapter 3
Vanessa
The calico gown wasn’t a problem, but no matter how many times she attempted to stuff her hair into the puffy white cap, messy tendrils popped out along the edges.
“I feel ridiculous,” Vanessa said, rotating slowly in front of a large mirror in the underground costume department.
There goes my authority. She stood in front of the mirror and tried to cram her hair securely into the cap one more time. It was no use. One look at me in this outfit and they’ll all be in stitches. She tugged the edges of the neckline to make sure they covered her bra straps. Who on God’s green earth decided that dressing up managers for training would be a good idea?
Having brought a pink flush to her cheeks, she flounced out and went to the office.
Charlotte looked up from her work as Vanessa came in. Her gaze traveled all the way down to the hemline of the dress, then back up until she reached the frilly cap. “Oh, wow,” she said. She attempted to rally. “You look … ”
“Don’t say it,” Vanessa said.
“No, really—”
“Like an off-brand Martha Washington?” Vanessa finished.
Charlotte laughed. “Like you work here. I mean, I know you work here, but now you look like a crew member. You could pass.”
“Then I’ll fit right in. Where’s Thomas?” Vanessa adjusted her cap again.
“He should be here soon.”
“What about Dirk?” asked Vanessa.
“He went to handle something upstairs,” said Charlotte.
“And what are you up to today?”
Charlotte rifled through the papers on her desk. “I got some scheduling, some shift changes, a few reports to send to the head office. The usual. Why? You need something?”
Vanessa tried to scratch an impossible-to-reach spot on her shoulder blade. What do they make this fabric out of? Asbestos? “Yes, I wanted to follow up on the questions everyone was asking at the meeting, but it’ll have to wait till later.” By contorting herself she managed to reach the spot and set about scratching it industriously.
The office door opened. Thomas, wearing a colonial gentleman’s costume, took in her attire at a glance. “My lady! Are you ready?”
“I was born ready,” said Vanessa, recovering her dignity and shaking out her skirt. “Let’s go.”
“Have you seen the show before?” Thomas asked as they went through a turnstile surrounded by a polished brass enclosure.
“Years ago, when I was a kid. I don’t really remember it.”
They entered the circular lobby of the American Dream theater. Red, white, and blue bunting draped every lintel and column. Sculptures symbolizing the achievements of industrialists and explorers sat under spotlights. A crowd milled around, waiting for the next show and ignoring the copies of presidential portraits hung next to oversized display cases filled with the dresses of former First Ladies.
Thomas showed her the lobby microphone hidden inside a wall-mounted box. He opened a side door and let her peek into a break room just off the lobby.
One of the crew members on break dug into a container of yogurt while another sported a large set of headphones over her white cap.
Vanessa waved, then retreated into the lobby.
Thomas made the showtime announcement over the lobby microphone, then showed Vanessa how to push the button to open the automatic doors. The crowd poured into the theater and Thomas stationed himself at the theater control box, which contained a microphone and the button that started the show. Vanessa took up a position next to him.
“Please move all the way to the center of the row and fill in all available spaces. Thank you,” he said.
He has a nice voice.
Thomas finished off the introduction spiel and hung up the microphone.
Vanessa pushed the button to start the show. They sat down next to each other in the rapidly dimming theater.
Thomas
Thomas glanced at Vanessa out of the corner of his eye. Her hair was falling out of the cap again. He resisted an inexplicable urge to tuck it back in.
She has pretty hair.
He turned his attention to the show, which he had watched a thousand times. He could have recited the whole thing aloud, and had done so, on occasion, as a party trick. He wondered if it would amuse his new boss. She appeared to be watching the show with interest as it presented a condensed version of selected events in American history.
As
the triumphant closing theme blared, Thomas beckoned to Vanessa. They resumed their positions next to the control box. Thomas delivered the parting words and opened the exit doors with a touch of a button.
The crowd ambled into the glare of the morning light.
When the last visitor had left, Thomas indicated the door controls to Vanessa, who closed the doors and dusted her hands with satisfaction.
“What’s next?” she said.
“This time, you do the talking,” Thomas replied. “I’ll get you a copy of the spiel.”
“Please move all the way to the center of the row?” she said.
“That’s the spirit,” Thomas said.
They walked back to the lobby. Script in hand, Vanessa handled all the microphone and button duties for the next show with aplomb. By the time the show had finished for the second time, it was almost lunchtime.
“Are you ready for lunch?” asked Thomas.
Vanessa patted her stomach. “I could be. You?”
“Most definitely. Did you know the summer crew festival is today? They’re giving out free ice cream and watermelon in the manager parking lot.”
“So that’s why I had trouble finding a parking spot this morning. Free ice cream for everyone? That’s pretty nice.”
“Almost as nice as a wage that actually pays the bills,” Thomas said, and immediately regretted it.
I shouldn’t have said that. I am an idiot.
Had he made her uncomfortable? He could have kicked himself. No matter how friendly his boss was, it didn’t excuse letting down his guard in her presence. “I’m sorry. It’s all any of the crew are talking about these days. It rubs off on you.”
“Man cannot live by ice cream alone,” she said.
Thomas couldn’t help laughing. “Maybe if it was rocky road?”
They made their way to the manager parking lot and approached the temporary white tent erected off to the side.
