“I don’t want to horn in on your break,” said Vanessa, unwilling to impose even though fresh air and friendly company sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world.
“Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “I have something I want to show you. Put your name tag away; we’re going incognito.”
They both removed their name tags and made their way upstairs to an area of Discovery that Vanessa had not explored, where a thicket of bamboo surrounded a diminutive stone building.
The sign above the entrance read “Coffee Garden.” Through the open doorway, they entered a room filled with strange devices made of glass and metal.
“They’re all coffee machines,” Charlotte said. “I come up here to get the good stuff. You have to take your name tag off, though, since we’re not allowed to eat or drink in view of the visitors.”
Vanessa studied the menu board. Americano? French press? Flat white? Accustomed to whatever came out of the industrial-size coffee machine in the break room, she was at a loss to choose.
Charlotte must have noticed her hesitation. “Have you ever had a Vietnamese iced coffee?” she asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Vanessa.
“You’ll love it. Two Vietnamese iced coffees, please,” she said.
“Let me,” Vanessa said, reaching into her pocket for cash.
“You don’t have to—” Charlotte started, but Vanessa had already paid for the coffees.
“I insist. You’ve been so helpful. It’s the least I can do,” said Vanessa.
They carried their coffees through the rear of the store and into an enclosed garden, open to the sky but surrounded by bamboo. The bamboo canes knocked against each other, creating the effect of a chorus of wooden wind chimes around the cafe tables and chairs.
Vanessa dipped a long spoon into the tall glass of coffee. It landed in a thick, cream-colored syrup at the bottom. She withdrew the spoon and tasted it. “It’s sweetened condensed milk!” she said. She stirred the spoon into the condensed milk, sending it swirling through the dark coffee.
Charlotte opened the notebook she’d brought with her. “See this? I made this last time I was here.” She slid the notebook across the table.
The notebook lay open to a pencil sketch of the seating area, complete with bamboo and hanging lights, with the shop in the background.
Vanessa marveled at the intricate details. “Charlotte, this is wonderful. I had no idea you were an artist. May I look at the other drawings?”
“Be my guest.” Charlotte sat back and sipped her coffee.
Vanessa paged through the rest of the notebook, passing sketches of the Mirror Castle and Ghost Factory, along with other locations she didn’t recognize.
“You should do something with this,” said Vanessa. “You have a real gift.”
“Thank you,” said Charlotte. “I wanted to join the art department here, but it’s hard to get in without a degree. Or some kind of connection in the department.”
“Are you going to school for art?”
“A little bit at a time. It’s not easy to go to school full-time when you’re already working a full-time job,” Charlotte said.
“I hear that.” She felt the effect of the caffeine take hold. It made her want to jump up and fix something. Anything. To solve all the problems in the world.
Too bad it’s only coffee, not magic.
Thomas
Thomas had just finished the pre-show spiel when Dirk strode into the American Dream lobby.
“Thomas,” said Dirk, by way of greeting.
“Dirk.” Thomas acknowledged him with barely concealed loathing. “What can I do for you?” Other than help you take a long walk off a short pier, that is.
“We need to make sure the theater is ready for a very important meeting this afternoon,” said Dirk.
“Is that the royal ‘we,’ Dirk, or are you referring to someone other than yourself?” Thomas tread the border between humor and sarcasm.
“Very funny. Vanessa wants it cleaned up and shipshape. So get some trash grabbers and some brooms and dustpans and get any detritus off the floor. And pass the word to the rest of today’s crew, got it?”
“Pick up trash. Got it.”
Dirk squinted at him as if trying to determine if he was being mocked in some way.
Thomas grabbed the nearest dustpan and broom and swept up invisible bits from the carpet, all the while whistling the American Dream theme song. He continued the charade until Dirk turned on his heel and marched out. Then, he ditched the broom and dustpan, opened the theater door, and loped down to where Bob sat.
“Bob, it’s on. The meeting is today,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice down while also being heard over the noise of the show.
“So? What are we gonna do about it?” Bob asked.
“I want to hear what they say.”
“You can’t do that. They’ll see you,” said Bob.
“I’ll be careful,” said Thomas.
Bob shook his head. “You’ll get yourself fired, is what you’ll do.”
After the exchange, Thomas counted the minutes until his shift ended. At closing time, he sped down to the locker room to change. Attired in casual clothing, he made his way upstairs and through the park, blending with the remaining visitors who hadn’t found their way to the park exit.
At American Dream, he went in the back way, climbed up on the show stage, and pushed the heavy velvet curtain aside. Looking around one last time to make sure he was unobserved, he stepped through the opening, closing the gap behind him. He picked his way across the platforms that made up the stage until he reached the back wall.
Surrounded by eerily still mechanical figures and hidden by the thick velvet curtain, all he had left to do was wait.
Vanessa
The last lingering edge of caffeine kept Vanessa on her toes as the managers of Destiny Park gathered in the American Dream lobby.
Vanessa worked her way through the room, making up for lost time at the last meeting, in which the crowded meeting room had put a damper on greetings and conversation. Unlike the Mirror Castle, this was her turf. She could schmooze with the best of them.
One of the doors to the theater opened. Mr. Destiny stuck his head out and called to Vanessa.
She hurried over. “Yes, sir?”
“Vanessa, we’re having trouble bringing the lights up in the front of the house. Can you see if you can find the right switch?”