That afternoon the Magic Kingdom was jammed with people—predominantly white and on the heavy side—taking their place in lines that seemed to stretch in every direction for every attraction. Jeff insisted we start at Fantasyland for the simple reason that this was where we’d find the greatest concentration of kiddie rides. Dumbo was our first stop. The line was endless, but Darla led us past those waiting, through a gate, down a corridor, where somehow we bypassed everybody and were ushered immediately onto the ride. Jeff went with Teddy and Sam. I stayed behind with Darla, who explained as they boarded that the altitude of their Dumbo flight was controlled by a joystick. She added, “That’s what makes it an appropriate ride for any age.”

Teddy and Sam had the same look as they circled the sky—pure, unadulterated, mouth-open awe. Meanwhile, Darla offered up a wealth of Disney World information. I learned about other celebrities she had escorted (Robin Williams, Muhammad Ali, the Sultan of Brunei) and that every ride/attraction at Disney World had a secret entrance that we would be availing ourselves of, and that of all the celebrities she’d escorted, she’d never seen one take a greater interest in the itinerary than Jeff Slade. “He had several conversations with the head of guest relations,” she whispered. Realizing Darla was clutching the itinerary, I asked to see it. She smiled and shook her head, saying, “I’m not supposed to show you.”

“Oh, come on.”

“He doesn’t want you to have to think about a thing. Let me just tell you that what he has planned is ambitious—difficult but doable—and if we stay on schedule, you’re in for an unforgettable few days.”

“Yes, but we’re not here for me,” I found myself saying as the boys and Jeff flew above us.

Soon we raced from Dumbo to the train of boats for the Small World ride to the white horses of Cinderella’s Golden Carousel to the spinning pastel cups of the Mad Tea Party, then the miniature pirate ships on Peter Pan’s Flight, and, finally, the honeypot-shaped cars of the Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh.

Later, when the boys and I emerged from the nearest bathroom, Jeff was waiting with official Disney autograph books and Donald Duck pens. We hurried toward Toontown, where a tour of Mickey’s House was aborted when Teddy saw his favorite Disney character of the moment (Aladdin). While Teddy got Aladdin’s autograph and Sam got all shy around Captain Hook and Brer Rabbit, I tried to pull Jeff aside for a private chat. I asked that he slow down with all the kindnesses. From the way he glared at me, I knew I better explain: “I guess I’m just not comfortable with all this special treatment.”

Jeff said with a smile, “Then you better go home.”

TIM

TIM