July 4, 1984 [11]

"Martha?" Steven asked. She didn't respond, but continued to stare at the passing crowd. So he tried again, this time using his robot voice, "Earth...to...Martha... The...robots...have... invaded...the planet..."

Martha laughed. "Oh Daddy. Why would a robot warn the astronaut about the robot invasion?"

"Yeah. I guess that... doesn't really make sense. But... is everything alright sweetie-pie? You seem miles away. Are you having fun?"

"Oh yes, Daddy. Thank you so much for taking me here!" Martha wrapped her arms around her father's massive torso. "What time is it?"

"Five minutes after the last time you asked me. Let's see." He checked his wrist watch. "It is 11:10. What should we do next? We could go to Pirates of the Caribbean or... Haunted Mansion."

"No, that's too scary," Martha said, because when she was six years old, it had been. Though she was no longer under pressure to recreate her childhood to perfection (she didn't need to make it to Illinois – James knew to wait for her), mimicking in broad strokes was still the path of least resistance. And while she'd come to expect a certain degree of psychological deterioration in her father, she'd walk the walk whenever possible to keep as much of him as she could.

"Okay," he said. "How about Country Bear Jamboree or... Tom Sawyer's Island?"

"No, it's too early for the island."

"What? Too early?"

"Let's see the Country Bear Jamboree. Those bears are soooooooo funny!"

"Jamboree it is," Steven said. "Do you want to ride on my shoulders?"

"Does a Country Bear jamboree in the woods?" she asked, standing up on the bench.

"Sometimes Martha, I swear," Steven said, chuckling. "You should be on Carson." He sat in front of her and she swung her legs over his shoulders.

"Who's Carson?"

"A funny man with a talk show. He's old – even older than me."

"Wow! He must be really, really, really old, Daddy." She kicked her legs gently as if prodding a horse. He stood and she soared above the crowd of people walking left and right – and who needs a roller coaster??

After all the thrills she'd experienced – running with the bulls in Spain, skydiving past Mount Everest, whitewater rafting down the Zambezi River, to name a few – riding on her father's shoulders as a small child still ranked at the top. It was a strange and glorious mix of sensations. The exhilarating vertigo of riding on someone over twice her height combined with an olfactory potpourri – her father's sweat, cheap shampoo, and an intangible quality that Martha could only describe as the scent of security. She tugged playfully on his left sideburn to steer him toward Bear Country and he complied dutifully.

The elation was fleeting, however – a temporary diversion from an outrageous gambit, decades in the making and nearing its fruition.

As her father waded into the flow of the Disneyland crowd, a pea sized ball of joyful panic bounced in the pit of Martha's stomach. She hadn't felt this level of anticipation since that fateful day in October in her fourth life. Everything outside of the pea was 100 percent 'Six year old girl who'd spent the past twelve months begging her father to take her to Disneyland on the Fourth of July and was now living out that dream.'

They left Fantasyland, passed the Tiki Room and Jungle Cruise of Adventureland, then Pirates of the Caribbean and Haunted Mansion of New Orleans Square, before finally making it to Bear Country. They walked through the doors of the log cabin replica theater and found seats for the animatronic show set to begin.

Steven set Martha down with a grunt. "You are just getting bigger and bigger," he said, rubbing his back.

"It's your fault for feeding me," she joked.

"That's it. No more food for you."

"Silly Daddy," Martha said, then looked around the theater. It was filling with parents and children around her age. Could they be in here...

She shook away the thought. Too much planning had gone into this. Twelve o'clock on Tom Sawyer's Island – that's the plan. Meeting in a crowded theater would be far too messy.

The house lights fell and the curtain opened to reveal the family of animatronic bears ready to entertain.

The Ghost within her guffawed as the lead Bear thanked the audience for coming and Martha let the laughter roll out. The house lights came up and everyone applauded, then stood to leave.

Steven took Martha's hand. "Alright! That was great! Where to next? Are you hu-"

"What time is it?"

"Jeez Louise, Marty. We've got to stop by a gift shop and get you your own Mickey watch. 11:50. Are you hungry? Do you want to get lunch?"

"No, Daddy. My tummy's still full. But I really want to go to Tom Sawyer's Island now. Can we?"

"You got it."

As they walked out of the venue and toward the canoe embarkment that would take them to the island, the pea in Martha's stomach ballooned to a grapefruit. She allowed the nerves to reach the surface, passing them off as childlike excitement – skipping, jumping and squealing in anticipation of the island.

They boarded the canoe and listened to the park employee spin the tale of Tom Sawyer – though I'd be surprised if he's read much Twain. When they finally docked on the island, Martha jumped out of the canoe.

"Slow down there, Missy!" the guide said in a Texan accent. Even though the story takes place in Missouri- oh, who cares, who cares, who cares?!?

"Sorry, Mister. Come on, Daddy. Let's go! Let's go!" Martha said, hopping up and down on the wooden planks of Tom's Landing. Without waiting for her father, she ran up the landing and looked left and right, hoping to spot a familiar face – a face seen only in old photographs and dreams.

"Marty, wait up!" Steven called.

"Come on! Come on!" she called back, then raced off down the trail. She stopped at the entrance to Injun Joe's Cave and waited for her dad to catch up. The man-made, above ground cave had frightened her as a child – but as long as there are no gorillas inside, I think I'm good.

Steven rounded the corner, breathing heavily. "Okay... Hold on... I'm serious, Marty... You have to slow down."

"But I'm just so excited to explore, Daddy!"

"I know, I know. But... look." He pointed at a sign posted next to the cave's opening, its script made to look handwritten with a paintbrush. "Tom... wrote us a message... warning us about Joe... Maybe we should... stand still for a minute to-"

"I don't want to read a sign. I want to run and jump and explore!"

"And I'm happy you're excited, sweetie. But I can't keep up with you at this rate."

"Oh, I understand, Daddy. And I know juuuust what to do," Martha said, pleased that her plan within the plan was working so well. "I saw a buncha benches back by Tom's Landing. Why don't you go rest there. Then, I can explore as fast as I want!"

Steven furrowed his brow skeptically. "I don't know. I don't think that's safe."

"But Daddy! There's only one way off the island and you'll be sitting right there. And it's Disneyland. It's a place for kids. Why would they make a place for kids not safe for kids? Huh? Why, Daddy?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess," he said, rubbing his chin. "But Joe's Cave is pretty dark and spooky. You don't think you'll get scared all by yourself?"

She walked to Steven and took his hands in hers then raised her wide eyes toward his – this is too easy. "Remember this morning? You said that I'm getting old enough to stop being scared of some things. Well, I want to try to stop being scared of this." She debated striking the fatal blow for a moment, but the setup was just too perfect. "I want to try to be brave like you. Do you think I could be brave like you, Daddy?"

He swallowed hard, then cleared his throat and smiled. "You most certainly can. I'm just so, so proud of you, Martha."

She leaned in, pressed the side of her face to his stomach, and gave him a tight hug. "That's cuz you're a good daddy." Manipulative... but also true.

After she let go, Steven said, "Okie Dokie. You have fun exploring and I'll be at Tom's Landing. Don't keep me waiting too long, okay?"

"Okie Dokie!" Martha said then turned and entered the cave.

The inside consisted of a winding path lined with a wooden railing, dimly lit with various shades of mood lighting. Martha moved quickly, unconcerned with the replica stalactites she went by or the ever present wailing of Joe's ghost. She passed other families, some with boys his age, but none sufficed. Aside from a vague idea of what he would look like, Martha was certain there would be a glaring otherness to him – an alien being masquerading as human, unlike anyone in the world but herself.

Then she remembered the odds. It hadn't been easy steering her father here on this exact date. But it was a walk in the park compared to his side of this. And after all of their planning in the previous life, they were forced into radio silence in this. As far as she knew, he was back in Illinois, applying another coat of mosquito repellent.

Truly, this had been a longshot. But Martha wouldn't give up. They hadn't decided on a specific place on the island to meet and there was plenty more to search. She emerged from the cave's exit and squinted at the sunlight. The path leading out came to a T. Martha debated whether to cross the suspension bridge or head up to Tom's Treehouse.

Then suddenly, she heard a high pitched voice from behind her. "That's a helluva perm."

Martha spun around and clasped her hand over her mouth. James! But... shrunken. He wore a Chicago Bears T shirt and athletic shorts. His legs were skinny, but his cheeks were chubby. He smiled and she saw a gap where one of his front teeth should be.

He stepped forward and she threw her arms around him. "Whoa," he squeaked. "I'm happy to see you too!"

She released him. "I can't believe it... Look at you!"

"I know!" James said. "I'm totally a young person. But look at you! By the way, sorry about the whole perm comment. I'm a seven year old boy. Teasing is my love language."

"Oh whatever. It happens every life – my dad takes the advice of the lady at the hair salon and she goes bonkers all over my tiny head." She patted the bottom of her hyper curls. "I've just decided to rock it."

"Heck yeah, ya have!"

They stared at each other in silence, both wearing giant smiles. Seeing James like this was having a greater effect on Martha than she'd anticipated. It was James – her love for all eternity – but a corner of him she'd yet to discover until now. And like an alcoholic finding a shot's worth at the bottom of a bottle they thought was dry, she wanted to savor every last drop.

Martha broke the silence. "I can't believe you have dimples!" She reached out and pinched one of his chubby cheeks. "Just adorable."

James chuckled. "I'll tell you what's adowable are your unarticulated r's. It's willy cute."

Martha slapped his shoulder. "Stop! I'm working on it. They start to articulate next year," she said, suddenly aware of every r she failed to awticulate.

"Sorry. Sorry. Love language... Seven year old boy..."

A passing woman leered at them quizzically. James looked at the woman, then pointed at Martha. "She has cooties!"

Martha pointed at James. "He eats his boogers!"

The woman shook her head dismissively, then continued on with her family.

Alone again with James, Martha's heart was a helium balloon bouncing around the top of her chest. She held out her hand and he took it.

As they began down the path, Martha asked, "Where are your parents?"

"My dad's back in Illinois. My mom's waiting by Tom's Landing. I told her how excited I was to run around the island, made it sound really tiring, then let her suggest the split."

"You copycat! I did the same thing with my dad. But did your mom choke up and tell you how proud she was of you like my dad did? Huh?"

"Not out loud. But, you know, she's proud... probably. Honestly though, when is Steven not choking up about how amazing you are? It can be a little much."

"And you can be a little shut up."

"Touché," James said as they stepped onto the suspension bridge.

"Great job, by the way," Martha said.

"What's that?"

"Getting here. I wasn't sure you'd make it. Was it hard?"

They reached the halfway point of the bridge and James stopped. "Hold on. First... Let's jump."

"Kay," Martha said and the pair of children began to jump, creating discordant waves along the bridge. Martha let out a scream and James followed, then they stopped.

"Thanks.  I just love these seven year old knees." He took her hand and the two resumed their walk. "To answer your question. Yes. Yes, it was very hard. There were many close calls. I'm not proud of the number of tantrums I had to throw to keep us on track. And there was a desperate race to the airport involving a golf cart, an incontinent nun, and a crate of ferrets."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm not ready to talk about it."

"Too soon?"

"It's still raw."

"When you're ready," she said. They reached the end of the bridge and continued back around toward the entrance to the cave. "My dad thought about delaying because we were out of wiper fluid."

"Sounds harrowing," James deadpanned.

They retraced Martha's steps back toward the landing. The wooded path bent to the right and the landing came into view. Steven and Ruth sat quietly on opposite benches as families came and went between them.

Martha let go of James' hand and began to run to them. "Daddy! Daddy! I made a friend! I made a friend!"

James, also running, added, "Mommy! Mommy! I made a friend too! But I was the one who talked first so really, I was the one who made a friend!"

They both reached their respective parent and were now motioning across the way at one another. "But he made fun of my hair!" Martha volleyed.

"She pinched me on my-"

"Oh... my... god!" Martha exclaimed then crossed the landing to James and Ruth. To the latter, she said with awe, "You're so beautiful."

"Oh my," Ruth said, taken aback. "Why thank you, young lady. Wow, James. You sure can pickem."

Steven approached and stood next to Martha. "Hi. Sorry about my daughter. She's very friendly."

"No apology necessary," Ruth said. "Your daughter certainly is friendly, and sweet, and has... terrific eyesight."

Martha laughed at her joke, then said. "You just look so good." She didn't mean to flatter James' mother – my concern with impressing her ended when she shot me dead in the face – but spoke from a place of sincere amazement. Ruth's hair was her natural brown with faint blonde highlights branching out in feathered curls. Her skin was smooth and clear of the bags, spots, and wrinkles Martha had only known her to have. But it was more than just youth. It was as if a deadly poison, once permeating her mind, body, and soul, had been extracted, leaving her cured and full of health. Not that I want to make a metaphor wherein James is a poison infecting his mother, but... it's the only way to describe it.

"Well," Steven said with an awkward smile. "She's not wrong."

"Dad."

"You know what else is beautiful, Mommy?" James chimed in. "Your ring. The one with the diamond. Show the man your ring, Mommy." He grabbed her left hand and held it up for Steven to see.

"Oh, I didn't mean... um..." Steven stuttered.

"Pay no mind, really-" Ruth assured.

"Because I was just agreeing with my daughter."

Meanwhile, James shot a playful smile at Martha to which she rolled her eyes. "Daddy!" she interrupted. "I'm hungry."

"Mommy! I'm hungry too."

"Well, James," his mother said. "Maybe we should invite your new friend to have lunch with us?"

James' eyes went comically big. "That's a great idea!" He turned to Martha. "Martha, will you go to lunch with us?"

She put her hands on her waist and popped her hip to the side. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"No! Ew! Gross! No!" he answered.

"Good, because I'm out of your league."

"Martha!" Steven scolded, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, she's precious!" Ruth howled, failing not to laugh.

Author's note:

Any Disneyland fans out there?  I never had the chance to see the Country Bear Jamboree (discontinued in 2001), but I saw plenty of their descendants (Showbiz Pizza then Chuck E Cheese).

Thanks for reading!!