We're imprisoned by monsters I thought existed only in fantasy, and it's all my fault.
We hang in cages, chained, in semi-darkness. A rusted navy blue oil lantern dangles next to my cage, illuminating my bed of straw in sickly orange light.
Across from me, I see the larger cage containing my friends, the pencil necked young man in the green robe, the freckle faced blond guy dressed like a Viking, the similarly freckled redhead woman with her baby, the black woman in the fur bikini, the tall, heroic looking yellow haired man in the gold Robin Hood costume.
They are unconscious, drugged by whatever magical potions our enemies use in this world.
Well, except the baby. He's awake and crying, driving me nuts. I can't even reach over to quiet him.
Somewhere in this dank cave, I an adult unicorn cries out in pain. And in the distance, I can just barely hear the echoes of our betrayer's voice, laughing and joking with the enemy.
I'm too nice for my own good. That's what's the matter.
If I hadn't been so nice, I wouldn't have gotten into this mess to begin with.
If only I had never taken Emily on that trip to the Adventureland theme park.
It was a Big Brothers Big Sisters event. Every year we take a bunch of kids with Down Syndrome to amusement parks and concerts and the like. Last year it was Disney World. Unfortunately for us, we couldn't afford to go this year, so we chose a less expensive imitation. Think of Six Flags and Universal Studios with generic rides and obscure attractions.
Well, in many respects, Adventureland is a lot less stupid and annoying.
We stayed at the Mariott and took a yellow school bus to the front entrance, the same yellow bus we rode for a good thousand miles or so from Kansas City. Other than a few screaming incidents at the beginning, and frequent delays due to bladder control issues, those kids were angels.
To protect the kids, we were supposed to have "two deep" leadership at all times. I roomed with an adult named Joe, who was ten years older than me, and ran the youth group at the church across town. Me, I just work at Walmart.
When we entered the park that morning, we all had our charges, Joe had Georgie, a thin brown haired boy with a gnarled hand and Asiatic features, and I had Emily.
Emily was a sweet girl, her plump face always smiling, her closely set eyes crisscrossed but bright.
That day, she insisted on wearing her Snow White dress.
Her companion wore a Superman tee. I never liked the Man of Steel. Seeing his symbol on the chest of the developmentally challenged didn't make him any cooler in my book, but Georgie was a sweet kid.
As usual, the place was a mob, elbow to elbow with people, and you had to stand in huge lines for everything. We had our kids on those leash-like wrist strap things so they wouldn't get lost.
I almost think the kids enjoyed the costumed characters more than the rides. There were a variety of trademarked mascot characters, Logan the Newt, Bennie the Bugbear (sort of a bastardized Mickey Mouse with a beak), Waffles the kitten...Still, the children did enjoy some of the rides. Emily loved the Flying Pig Ride and the Wacky Caterpillar, and Georgie liked The Space Ranger (indoor roller coaster), the Haunted Saloon, and some other things.
Considering his taste in entertainment, you would have thought it would have been Georgie that got me on the ride with the dragons, but I actually went on the suggestion of my cross eyed princess.
"Dwagon!" she kept yelling. "I wanna ride!"
It was already dusk, and we'd already been on several rides, the one where you ride a bike over a giant movie screen, another a subway car that drives through a giant movie. I could tell Georgie was tiring out, moaning that he wanted to go home, but Emily still seemed full of energy.
It had been a long day of walking and standing in lines and getting lost. We tried to tell her no, and maybe tomorrow, but she remained undeterred.
The only reason why I said yes was because there didn't seem to be any line, a point she continually reminded me of.
Joe got Georgie a soda and set him down on a bench while we approached the turnstile.
I had never head of a Dungeons and Dragons ride before. In fact, I could have sworn the area had been a staff only maintenance area an hour or so ago while we had been walking to some other ride. But then again, it was easy to get lost and mistake one homogenized section of the park for the other.
The lack of a line was an even stranger thing. The building shimmered in the waning sun like a mirage, and it looked like nobody was on duty. Even so, nothing had been roped off, and there were no closing signs.
The girl dragged me through the giant fanged mouth of a dragon sculpture. We wandered through a maze of ropes and walkways appropriate for the typical theme park crowd, but saw nobody until we got up to the cars.
Everything in the building had sort of a strange medieval-esque decor to it, fantasy monsters, shields and heraldry. The workers all dressed like serfs. Emily loved it, but I was creeped out by the people. They reminded me of zombies, or androids.
My charge, though short, hadn't been stopped by height warnings before, and nothing seemed to be out of order, so we climbed aboard a red roller coaster car painted to look like a Swiss shield, and let the creepy serfs lower our shoulder bars and fasten us in.
The staff waited, but no one else showed up. We were the only passengers. Immediately the ride started.
At first, it was Grade A cheese. The car rolled slowly through a fake cave as cheap animatronic dragons and manticore popped out at us and roared. It reminded me of the Small World or the Pirate ride, without the water or music. Goblins laughed maniacally with glowing red eyes. Ogres threatened the car with their clubs. And then a giant dragon head dropped from the ceiling and blew hot fire at the car.
Even though the rail dropped precisely at the moment the searing flames poured out (I guess from the propane system) I could smell burning rubber and plastic, and when I looked back into the row behind me, I could see heat bubbles and exposed stuffing where the fire had scorched the seats.
Emily grabbed my hand. Normally she's unafraid of such illusions, but the fire had given us both a start.
The ride picked up speed, and the robots became more violent.
A club appeared right in front of my face and I had to duck my head to keep it from knocking my block off.
Emily screamed as something ripped her shoulder bar away.
When I found a flaming arrow stuck in the rubber padding of mine, I quickly pulled the release latch, removing my harness as well.
Something clanged, and the shoulder bar came flying off the seat with a noisy crashing sound.
The ride took on the feel of an Indiana Jones mine cart ride, rocking here and there, nearly dumping us off the tracks.
Thinking quickly, I waited for a safe, injury free moment and jumped into the melted seat behind me, yanking Emily into the adjacent seat just seconds before an axe embedded itself in the place she'd inhabited just seconds before. We buckled down our partially melted shoulder bars and held on.
Seeing another wall of flame, I shoved Emily's head down and hunkered over as a wave of heat blew across the car, filling the air with toxic fumes.
At this point, the track dropped at a ninety degree angle. We clamped our hands tightly to the railing out of instinct.
We hit the base of the drop with such force that I thought there was a gap in the track. My intestines felt like they had crawled up inside my rib cage.
The car shot around a bend, zooming through a giant loop.
We turned upside down, tilted completely sideways, then the track disappeared.
We soared through the dark.
I heard nothing. No rattling to indicate a track, no whooshing of hidden machinery indicating a silent coast. Just an eerie feeling of gravity shifting, my stomach crawling all the way up my throat.
When I saw light again, we were flying through a cave.
A dirty, slimy, real cave, not some sanitized Disney Imagineer version of one, like this were some seamy long forgotten maintenance passageway built from actual existing geological features.
I only glanced at my surroundings for a second before we hit a stalactite, smashing into a rock shelf.
The impact was jarring. The car definitely had not been designed for this kind of abuse. I thought I felt bones cracking, and I couldn't help but worry about how it affected my weaker friend. Everything happened too fast for conversations to be had, so I never found out.
The car flipped over backwards, bashing into another hard object.
Our seat restraints kept us in place. This proved to be both a blessing and a curse, for although we couldn't go rag doll and get crushed, there was still a chance of getting smashed like a pancake between a boulder and our seats. Praying this wouldn't be the case, I clutched Emily's hand, gripping the rail in front of me with my other.
The car flipped, and suddenly we were plunged into the the inky depths of a freezing underground lake.
I pulled the safety latches on the side of the car, releasing our harnesses, gritting my teeth in frustration at Emily's blinding paranoia about water.
Ever since her father had tried to drown her during a fishing trip, she had avoided pools and lakes at all costs, and proved to be exceedingly stubborn around bath time.
The girl wasted air by screaming, kicking me and clawing at my face in a frantic struggle to reach the surface.
Worse, through the dim light, I I could tell there wasn't much of a surface left.
When our car had hit that one stalactite, it had destroyed the only thing strong enough to hold up the immense weight of the ceiling. As we floundered, the smaller supports crumbled under the burden, and the air filled with tumbling rocks, dirt and boulders.
Still, I had to do something, and fast. Emily was taking on water, and we'd be needing CPR before she turned blue.
I flailed toward the upper reaches in a desperate attempt to pop up for air, but I only moved a fathom before finding myself caught in the clutches of an underwater whirlpool.
Something hit me in the head, and I drifted into the depths of a dark murky dream.
I awoke on a rocky beach full of sharp pointy chunks of metamorphic rock and miscellaneous chert.
The beach lay along a huge lake inside what appeared to be a dead volcano. Although I could explain the chert as being part of the Missouri river, a crater lake I could not. Somehow I'd been moved to an area uncommon to the grounds where the theme park stood.
Emily.
In a panic, I forced myself to a sitting position, searching for her blue and white princess dress.
I discovered it about five yards down the beach, but the girl wasn't in it.
Instead, I found it wrapped around a sort of horned olive green warthog with human limbs. I lifted one of its paws, and found Emily's spray painted aluminum Tinkerbell gumball machine ring wrapped around one of its fat fingers.
A whole range of emotions ran through me as I tried to process the information.
Even with a snout, the thing reminded me of Emily, but it wasn't Emily.
I didn't believe in fairy tales. I wasn't going to kiss this thing just to find out if it would turn into Emily or not.
The blood on its face made me think that this monster ate her. Even though most of it seemed to be from cuts and bruises. I couldn't tell for certain if the bloody teeth resulted from a mouth injury or eating a little girl.
I didn't believe in fairies, but I did believe in three eyed fish and mutants. A mutant killing a child and wearing her things was not outside the realm of possibility. What I did find unusual was that they both wore the exact same dress size.
The thing looked dead, possibly from drowning or being hit by something. It didn't appear to be breathing, but I wasn't eager to do animal CPR.
I stood up, shouting my charge's name.
No answer.
I marched toward the tall marble and slate walls, shouting at the top of my lungs.
"She can't hear you," I heard a voice saying. "She took on a lot of water."
I spun around, but saw only a crow. It hopped away from me.
I stared in the distance. "Where is she!"
"Where you left her."
"I didn't leave her! We got separated by the whirlpool!"
"She is still with you."
"Where."
"Very close. Surely you recognized the ring!"
"Who are you!"
No answer.
The crow tilted its head sideways to look at me. The beak opened. "Save the life of the beast, and you will save the girl."
And then it flew away.
"Right," I told myself. "No more Narnia books."
But I went along with the bird's advice anyway. My rationale was that I was still unconscious from the rock slide and this was acceptable dream logic. Plus I figured a pet monster might be a nice thing to have in the middle of nowhere.
Seriously, it was the domesticating angle that motivated me. The only time a boar turns into a person when you kiss it is when it involves fake things like giant talking candles and catchy musical numbers.
I know CPR. I only saw canine CPR on a TV commercial. I assumed the main difference was making the creature's muzzle airtight so its lungs can expand when you breathe into it. After turning the thing over and pumping the water out, I got it to work, counting off chest compressions by the Stayin' Alive method rather than the old `one one thousand' method.
The beast coughed and sat up. "M-Mike?" it said in my girl's voice.
I stared in disbelief. "What the hell?"
"Mike!" the creature cried, wrapping its arms around me.
I shuddered, gently pushing the thing back.
"Wuh happen? I feel fun-nee."
I backed away from her in shock.
Her eyes uncrossed, then crossed again. "Boo!" she said with an idiot laugh.
I crept back some more, shuddering.
She pouted. "Whudd da maddah, Mike?"
"Stop talking like that," I said.
"Stop talk like whaa?"
I'd read stories about doppelgaangers, malevolent spirits, fairies, demons who sneaked in beds and replace babies, wives and other people you cared about. "What have you done with Emily!"
The creature looked confused. "I no understand. Why you ask wudd I do wid me?"
I retreated, and she came forward.
"Is dis game, Mike?"
"No," I said, backing around a boulder.
"Why you act scare'?"
My disgust must have been plain on my face, for the next thing she said was, "You said I not ugly. You said I beaudihul prin-hess."
Emily had a few self esteem issues. I actually had said those things to her. I had told her she was a beautiful child of God.
"I don't know who you are," I stammered.
The creature let out a laugh that sounded like a sob. "I Emily! Your friend!"
I sighed, waving at the lake. "Look at yourself and tell me you're Emily."
She held up a green paw, examining it for a minute. She laughed again, that type of simpleton's laugh I was used to hearing from a different mouth. "I'm green!" she said with a broad grin.
"I know," I said quietly.
She leaned over the water, staring at her reflection. "I look fun-nee." She turned to look at me again. "Dat why you scared?"
I shrugged.
Tears rolled down her pig snout. "Mike, am I not beaudihul prin-hess anymoh?"
I swallowed. "I don't know."
I pointed to a beached roller coaster car. "Wait here. I need time to think."
She plopped down on a damp rubber seat. "Okay, Mike. I be vewwy good. You come back fo' me, okay?"
"Sure," I said noncommittally.
Then I walked about half a kilometer down the rock strewn beach. As I marched ahead, I could hear the thing weeping and tearing rips in Emily's dress.
I wandered around the lake for what seemed like miles, searching the shores and the water for any sign of a tiny naked body. Although I believed in doppelgaangers, due to seeing one, I didn't believe in doppelgaangers with sewing machines. To the best of my knowledge, therefore, there could only be one dress, and one dress wearer.
I found no sign of the missing girl.
A yard down the coast, I suddenly discovered a gangly twenty year old in a green robe and a pointy hat sitting on a large rock.
When I met this stranger's stare, he arose like he expected me, giving me a friendly wave as I approached.
The stranger gave me a little bow. "Greetings. I am Presto, the good magician."
I rolled my eyes, thinking this to be part of the ride. "Hi! I'm looking for a little girl. She has Downs Syndrome and I think she might be drowning."
The stranger's face became very grave and dark. "Your friend will never be safe as long as the creature is alive."
He took off his hat, waving his fingers over the opening, and a glowing light erupted from within the cone.
His hand reached deep within this light, drawing out a long silver blade engraved with strange runes. He handed it to me.
"End the creature's life, and your friend will be restored to you."
I took the knife, staring at it.
When I looked up, the stranger was gone.
It just didn't make sense. Why do CPR on a monster if I'm just going to stab it to death? My only guess was this was some kind of test, and either the guy in green or the bird was wrong. I wandered the beach, lost in thought.
Almost mechanically, I made my way back to the roller coaster car.
The mutant hadn't moved from the spot. Instead, it had curled up in a ball, silently rocking back and forth in a semi catatonic state.
"Who was green man?" she said with a vacant tear stained expression.
"I don't know. He said his name was Presto."
"Wha dihhe say?"
I frowned at my companion. "I..."
My hands nervously fingered the hilt of the blade.