Happy World

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

Happy World

Top Shelf

An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers

PO Box 2545

Round Rock, TX 78680

Copyright Ó 2011 by Kiernan Kelly and Tory Temple

Cover illustration by Alessia Brio

Published with permission

ISBN: 978-1-61040-186-9

www.torquerepress.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.

First Torquere Press Printing: March 2011

Printed in the USA

Happy World

By Kiernan Kelly and Tory Temple

Chapter One

Kyle stared nervously at his reflection in the ceiling-to-floor mirror that spanned an entire wall of the men’s dressing room. His white coveralls, the designated costume for Groundskeeping personnel, already sported a black smudge directly over his nametag. He had no idea how the black mark had gotten there since he couldn’t have had the costume on his body for more than fifteen minutes, and hadn’t left the dressing room once, but there it was, marring the otherwise pristine white material.

It figures. My first day as a Trainer, and I screw up my costume before I even get to meet my Trainee. I’m supposed to be the one who sets the example. Way to go, Kyle.

He should have expected it, he supposed. The color white and Kyle had been mortal enemies for as long as he could remember. His mother used to joke that if she didn’t worry that the neighbors would think they were the Addams Family, she’d have dressed him in black from head to foot since the day he was born, just to save on laundry costs.

Kyle was usually anal about his costumes, too. The Happy World Style Guide for Actors, known simply as “The Handbook” to employees, was a thin volume detailing appearance guidelines for Park workers. Included was everything from what size earrings women could wear (no bigger than a dime, and men were not allowed to wear any at all), to acceptable hair color and nail lengths (natural colors for hair; clear, beige, or pink nail polish for women, none at all for the men, nails trimmed no longer than the tip of the finger). It was as sacred to Kyle as the Bible. He kept a dog-eared copy tucked into his locker, even though he had the entire book practically memorized.

Costumes were an important part of “conserving the enchantment” of the Park for the guests. Guests suspended their disbelief in the impossible from the moment they walked in through the front gates. They expected -- and rightfully so, considering the price of admission -- to be cocooned in magic and illusions, drenched in fairy dust, amazed, astounded, and practically suffocated with sunny dispositions. They should never, ever encounter anything during their visit that reminded them of the outside world. The fantasy Happy World created needed to be picture perfect at all times, in all details.

That included no smudges on the white Groundskeeping uniforms.

Why, even wearing the wrong color shoelace can spoil the experience for a guest! Kyle chided himself. He’d once been forced to feed two bucks into one of the changing area vending machines for a new pair of laces when he came to work with the wrong kind threaded through his athletic shoes. They were new shoes, and came with black laces, but he needed white for his costume. He’d forgotten to switch them out the night before.

Thank goodness the machines in the dressing rooms sold everything from breath mints (Happy World Actors must have minty fresh breath at all times) to socks, pantyhose, shaving cream, razors, and deodorant. Of course, that was back three years ago when he’d first started and he hadn’t made such a terrible mistake since, but even then, he should have known better. He’d deserved to lose the two bucks for being so careless.

Kyle sighed and wiped futilely at the smudge. He didn’t have time to return to Wardrobe and wait in line to check out another costume. He was due onstage in five minutes to meet his new Trainee.

Finally, he glanced left and right to make sure no one was looking, then removed his nametag and pinned it a bit higher on his chest, hoping to camouflage the dark spot. Feeling a little guilty for breaking the rules (according to page 15 of the Happy World Style Guide, he was supposed to get an entirely new costume), he picked up his broom and dustpan, made his way out of the dressing room and down the long corridor studded with offices bearing titles like “Wardrobe Coordinator,” and “Actor Relations,” toward the exit.

Happy World (it was a theme park, and woe to the poor uninformed souls who called it an amusement park!) sat on one hundred fifty acres of prime real estate in the heart of Central Florida. Another couple of acres of land, hidden from the public eye and known as “backstage” or “behind the house” to the employees... er, Actors, surrounded it. It was there, backstage, behind the tall, cleverly faux-painted and disguised fences separating the magic of Happy World from reality, that the lifeblood of the Park throbbed. Actors (every person who worked at Happy World was called an “Actor,” even if they only pushed a broom or rang on a register) hurried along the confusing grid of sidewalks, streets, and the secret (well, to the guests, anyway) underground tunnels that crisscrossed beneath the Park. Some were in costume, some not; some headed directly to their locations, others to the cafeteria, or waited at bus stops for the in-house jitneys that would carry them from one end of the Park to the other. Colorful floats were lined up at one of the key entrances into the Park, ready to drive through the streets in the daily parade, as perky music played and Happy World’s famous animal characters danced and waved from atop the floats.

Kyle knew every inch, every character, every song, every ride, and every show in the Park by heart. He should -- he’d come to the Park on vacations with his parents every year since he was an embryo. How he’d loved all the glitz as a kid! He’d believed in the magic, too, and promised himself that when he was old enough, he would work at the Park, singing and dancing in the spectacular rhinestone-and-pyrotechnic stage shows.

Then again, he was only ten when he’d made himself that promise. When you’re ten years old, you really believe you’re going to grow up to be President/Astronaut/Famous Happy World Actor, not knowing that the rest of the world is snickering behind their hands at your naiveté.

Well, he’d showed them! Here he was, twenty-four years old, just two years out of college with a shiny, new degree in Theater Arts, fulfilling his lifelong dream of working at the Happy World Theme Park.

As a janitor.

Okay, so maybe the janitor part wasn’t exactly how he’d always pictured his dream job to be, but it was a start.

Or so he kept telling himself.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Forester, but we’re only hiring for Groundskeeping and Outdoor Foods,” Mrs. Adams, the bouffant-haired woman with a too-bright smile in Personnel had told him during his interview. “Your probationary period will end after ninety days. After six months, you can put in for a transfer to Attractions if there are openings. Plus, we do hold open auditions every so often for acting positions, too, and you’ll be eligible to participate in those auditions in just six months as well. Six months will fly by, you’ll see.”

What she didn’t say but Kyle knew to be the case, was that those six months would be spent pushing a broom under the scorching Florida sun, and using his grabby claw to pick up empty cups, cigarette butts, burger wrappers, dirty diapers, and things he didn’t really want to even think about, let alone touch, even with an extendable claw. It meant roughly a hundred and eighty days of emptying trash cans full of rancid food, and scraping bubble gum off chairs, sidewalks, and the bottoms of his shoes, and worst of all, dealing with “protein spills” -- Park lingo for vomit.

Six months had seemed like forever to him at the time.

As disappointed as he was, Kyle was determined to fulfill his dream of working as an Actor in the Park. He took the job, telling himself that despite what it felt like now, six months really wasn’t forever. At least the job brought him a paycheck... such as it was. A dollar above minimum wage didn’t exactly set him up for life, but he was surviving, and if he scored a part at the auditions, he’d get a pay increase.

Unfortunately, those interminable six months had stretched into two years, and he still hadn’t landed a role in Entertainment.

He had, however, been promoted to Groundskeeping Trainer, and along with a pay increase of fifty cents per hour, had been assigned his very first Trainee. Even if he wasn’t in Entertainment yet, he could still be proud of his accomplishments.

If only the job didn’t include wearing a snowy white uniform.

He stepped outside into the heavy, muggy air, feeling his skin instantly break out with sweat. Even after two years, he still hadn’t completely acclimatized himself to the weather. The costume didn’t help -- it was made from some sort of heavy polyester blend, great for wear and tear but hell on earth in the heat for whoever was wearing it. The torturous fabric simply didn’t breathe at all. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and headed toward the backstage gate that opened onto Fantasy Street.

Happy World was built like a giant bicycle wheel, with different “lands” sticking out like spokes from a central hub. Fantasy Street was located dead-center in the middle of the hub, in the Fairytale Land section. Fairytale Land was exactly that -- a section of the Park devoted to fairytales, ranging from Red Riding Hood to Peter and the Wolf and everything in between, particularly every story that had a princess in it (princesses were worth their weight in gold when it came to Happy World revenue). Here were the famous fake castles and faux forests, and the rides themed to each story, filled with familiar music, and animatronics forever smiling their patented, Happy World grins.

Here were also about a billion five-year olds stuffing themselves silly with cotton candy, ice cream, popcorn, and soft drinks before spinning around madly inside overgrown bowls of porridge on the Three Bears Table ride, or rocketing up and down steep hills on the Rapunzel Rollercoaster, then practically exploding under the intense heat of the Florida sun. Kyle answered more calls for “protein spills” in Fairytale Land than anywhere else in the Park.

Before he could get five feet onstage, a woman dressed in khaki shorts and a Happy Hamster T-shirt grabbed his arm. Her husband, wearing a Silly Dawg T-shirt with a mustard stain right over Dawg’s snout, was busily trying to re-fold a Park map into its original pocket size.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the bathrooms are?” she asked, snatching the map from her husband and quickly refolding it, then returning it to him without ever once glancing in his direction.

Kyle should have known what her question would be. It was the most frequently asked question in the Park. He turned on a high wattage smile, and pointed across the way with the Happy World Salute -- middle and pointer finger extended together. Happy World Actors always pointed with two fingers, never, ever one, because they were told in training that one-finger pointing was considered rude in some cultures. “They’re right over there, ma’am, next to the Gingerbread House Bakery. Have a Happy Day!”

He headed toward the Storybook Theater, which housed a slow-moving ride through several rooms full of state-of-the-art animatronics retelling whitewashed versions of the Brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Anderson, and other famous fairytales. Built to resemble a gigantic... well... book, it was one of the most easily recognizable attractions in Fairytale, and where he was scheduled to meet his new Trainee.

His watch, a Timex his dad had given him before leaving for college that so far had kept on ticking through four years of school and two years at Happy World, read ten o’clock on the nose. He glanced up and down the street, looking for another white Groundskeeping costume.

While he waited, he swept up a small spill of popcorn and picked up a couple of empty soda pop bottles, tossing it all into a garbage can cleverly disguised as a witch’s cauldron.

He checked his watch again. It was now five minutes past ten, and the new Trainee was officially late.

The skin between Kyle’s eyebrows puckered in a small frown. Not a good start for the Trainee’s first day on the job. On Kyle’s first day at work, he’d been a half-hour early. Then again, Kyle was always early for everything. Kyle hated being late. He considered it an insult to whomever he was meeting.

Not that he met people very often, at least not outside of work. He’d long ago resigned himself to the fact that he didn’t make a very big impression on people. It wasn’t that he was awful or deformed or anything... He just sort of blended in with the background. If the guys in Groundskeeping were planning a night at one of the clubs, or going to a movie, Kyle’s name would never be at the top of the invitation list. It wasn’t because the guys didn’t like him; Kyle was always pleasant to everyone, brushed his teeth, and used deodorant regularly. It was because they simply seemed to forget he existed until they ran into him face-to-face again. Then it always seemed to come as a surprise to them that Kyle was still working at Happy World, even though he saw most of these same people every day at some point.