Lollipops and Patterned Socks
"Doctor, I have a surprise for you."
Peri continued smiling even when the Doctor turned slowly with a look of baffled concern on his face. The burly frame, topped with an improbable mop of guinea-gold curls, could always convey a remarkable degree of disdain.
He turned back to the TARDIS console. "And pray tell, what would that be?"
"I've programmed the TARDIS to land at a specific set of coordinates." She beamed.
"Don't be silly! You can't fly the TARDIS!" he blustered. He drew himself up to his full height. "The TARDIS is linked to my bio-print alone."
She shrugged. "See for yourself." She laid a caressing hand on the console, and the central column glowed blue and moved steadily, producing its unmistakable dematerialization sound.
The Doctor's mouth dropped open as he fiddled with a set of buttons. "Well, well, well," he said. "We're about to land." She nodded. "How did you do that?"
"Don't you think I've watched you enough times?"
He stared past her. "Still waters run deep, I see."
"Hey!"
A tiny smile at the corner of his mouth suggested he was teasing, but she still shook her head disapprovingly. He glanced at her, brow furrowed. "What are you wearing?" Her leotard was fuchsia over khaki shorts with matching sandals. She pulled a pair of large, yellow-rimmed sunglasses over her eyes.
"All part of the surprise." She produced a red baseball cap and put it on. The Doctor looked like he was about to be sick. "Come on!" Peri shouted, grabbing his arm. "Time to go." The Doctor looked warily at the door. "Unless you're scared?"
He straightened his collar. "I'm afraid you don't understand me at all, Perpugilliam." He followed her out of the TARDIS with the gravitas of a condemned prisoner. Noise assaulted him first, and then harsh daylight. He shielded his eyes to see what he made of this mystery locale. Enough bright colors to match his coat swirled from a large crowd, mostly composed of children. Their cries of delight filled the air. Smells not unlike those at Blackpool resort inundated the Doctor's sensitive nostrils. And in the distance was a pastel-colored castle. "Where are we?" he asked with a shudder in his voice.
"Disneyland, nineteen-eighty-six!" Peri excitedly gestured toward a sign that confirmed they were just beyond the entrance to the theme park, and the Doctor now saw that her sunglasses were in the shape of mouse ears. "The Happiest Place on Earth," she repeated with diminished enthusiasm.
"Me? At Disneyland?!" the Doctor exploded.
"Well, why not?" Peri asked, hands on hips. "You're a wreck lately—you've been as tense as . . . as a cat in a kennel."
"I'm sorry, but Disneyland is not my idea of a relaxing vacation," he said, his lips curling upwards in disdain.
"Why don't you just give it a try? There are thousands of people here, all having a good time."
The Doctor looked ready to spout a diatribe, but then he let the air out of his lungs like a hissing tire. "Fine. You're young. I'll humor you." Peri brightened considerably. He followed as his friend joined the swarm of people. Everywhere he looked, there were human children screaming in delight and frustration. Many people were wearing sunglasses like Peri's or mouse ear hats on their heads. Prefabricated buildings made to look like crumbling mansions or "futuristic" space stations loomed. "Even you have to admit, Doctor, that Walt Disney was quite an entrepreneur."
He was silent, then sniffed. "I never thought about it before, but I suppose you're right."
"Is he really cryogenically frozen under Pirates of the Caribbean?"
"Oh, I doubt it," said the Doctor vaguely.
They had come to a fork in the pedestrian paths, where signs pointed to Tomorrowland and Frontierland. "Well, what do you want to do?" she asked. "Do you want to ride the rides?"
"Isn't there quite a tally of people who die every year on the amusement rides in Disneyland?"
Peri frowned. "Okay. Do you want to go to Cinderella's castle, or get something to eat?" He didn't reply. "Or if we stay 'til dark we can see the Main Street Electrical Parade."
"A parade," he repeated, drily.
"Excuse me, Mister." The Doctor looked down at the diminutive hand tugging on the bottom of his coat.
"Yes?"
"Can I have your autograph?" The boy thrust a shiny red souvenir book and a huge plastic pen toward the Doctor. He was wearing a Goofy cap that almost obscured his freckled face.
"And why would you want that?" The Doctor thumbed through the autograph book, reading the signatures of Donald Duck, Captain Hook, and Snow White. The Doctor couldn't disguise a slightly smug smile.
The boy looked dumbfounded at the question. "Doctor, just sign . . ." Peri said.
"Doctor?" quavered the boy. "I thought you were the Mad Hatter."
Peri braced herself. "No, you may not have my autograph!" the Doctor snapped, shoving the pen and book back at the startled boy and storming away. Peri paused between comforting the child and pursuing the Doctor. His broad, multi-colored form melted into the crowds.
"Doctor! There you are!" Peri skidded to a halt next to the gloomy Time Lord, who was seated near an urn on the front lawn of the Haunted Mansion. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was swinging his purple-spatted feet. He favored her with a frosty look. She stuck out an arm. "Here, this is for you."
The Doctor took it from her brusquely. "What on earth is it?"
"It's a lollipop," Peri said apologetically. It was indeed a yellow- and orange-striped lollipop, an enormous disc of spun sugar. The Doctor looked at it and attempted a half-smile. "You didn't have to bellow at that boy," Peri said softly.
"You didn't have to take me to Disneyland!" he snapped. "Or you could have asked first."
Peri took off her sunglasses. "You're always talking about the Eye of Orion, how peaceful it is—"
"The Eye of Orion is nothing like this!"
"I'm aware of that. Look, you're always taking me to interesting places, places that waken your curiosity. My parents used to take me to Disneyland when I was a little kid, before they got divorced. I remember spending some very happy summers here. I just wanted to share some of that with you." He was awkwardly silent. "If you tried, you might even enjoy yourself."
He sighed. "I appreciate the sentiment, Peri, but you're thinking in purely human terms."
"You don't have to be human to enjoy Disneyland."
She spoke with such authority he frowned wonderingly. "Peri, um, why don't you go off and do whatever it is you do in Disneyland?" She started to protest, but he cut her off. "I'll be perfectly fine sitting here, and I'll be ready to leave whenever you are."
"Yeah right, knowing you." He gave her a look of complete exasperation. "But you're missing the point. We were supposed to be having fun together."
"Fun together?" He shook his head gravely. "No, you misunderstand. Our lot in life is to bicker."
She sighed. "I guess you're right."
She was sure when she returned to the Haunted Mansion (after riding Splash Mountain twice, eating an ice cream cone, and shaking Mickey Mouse's hand), the Doctor would be long gone—his natural tendency to wander off and get into trouble compounded with the fact he was sure to get bored guaranteed it. Sure enough, the ledge was empty. She began making her way back to the TARDIS when she caught sight of an unmistakable coat. He was standing over a small cart, which, as she drew closer, she could see sold Disney-themed commemorative pins. She saw him tap his lapel. When she looked closer, she saw it was the Cheshire Cat grinning back at her. The Doctor grinned, too. "Back so soon?"
She didn't know whether it was sarcasm or not. "I guess you found something worthwhile after all."
"I have something for you." He brought out a metallic-plastic crown.
"A tiara."
"Cinderella's wedding tiara, I'll have you know."
"Now you're just teasing me."
"Perhaps I am a bit."
She took off her cap and put the tiara on the top of her head, tucking it behind her ears and walking regally. "Well, I am relieved you didn't run off in the TARDIS without me."
"Never," said the Doctor. "Now that you've satisfied your yearning for all things Disney, I have somewhere in mind to take you."
"Let me guess."
They had reached the TARDIS, and he unlocked the door. "The Land of Mismatched Socks."
"What?"
"You know when you have a pair of absolutely delightful patterned socks—" he glanced disdainfully down at her sandals, "—that is, if you ever wear socks—and one always goes missing in the wash? This is where it ends up. Along with fountain pens, keys, that biscuit you were saving for later . . ."
"Fiction! You're just making that up!"
"No, I assure you, all true . . ."
Peri took off her sunglasses. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"There we go, bickering again . . ."
