Posted by jack on October 18, 2006 at 11:08:14:
MAGIC KINGDOM
by Jack
Norman Jones went to Disney World once, and hated it. During a day of standing in lines that were models of bovine passivity, never a policeman in sight, he found himself wondering if visitors were infused with mind control on passing through the gates. He began looking closely at the imperturbably happy faced workers, half suspecting they were androids. Afterward, he vowed to his wife he would never go back.
That was seven years ago when Julie Jones was eleven years old. Now that Julie was approaching high school graduation Norman thought not of visiting the colleges that flooded his mail. Day and night he mused of returning to Disney World. At first, Mrs. Jones worried for her husband's sanity but she soon became beset by the same preoccupation.
Then, the week before graduation, Mr. Bellows came to call.
"Fifteen thousand dollars, Julie! We're so proud," Norman said at supper that evening.
"I don't get it," Julie frowned, but she figured she did get it.
Julie was graduating near the top of her class though not so near as to merit the number of awards she had begun to receive. No, she was being recognized less for her brains, which were good, than for her beauty, which was phenomenal. The awards committees didn't advertise it but behind their selections lay the hope that their prizes might be linked to someone destined for fame. Julie Jones literally embodied that dream.
"What is BEC, anyway? Didn't you ask him?"
Mrs. Jones sighed. "Certainly we asked him. Mr. Bellows said they were the initials for his organization."
Julie groaned. "Mom, the question is WHAT WORDS do the initials stand for?"
"Well, he didn't say what they stood for and I don't see what difference it makes. A person shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, Julie."
Early the next morning, which conveniently for Mr. Jones was a Saturday, Julie and her parents piled into the Ford Bronco for the hour drive to the BEC where Julie was to receive her prize at a reception just for her. Mr. Jones brought along some pamphlets about Disney World he wanted to read again if he got the chance. For the trip he had made a tape of his new favorite song, "It's A Small World, After All," sung by what sounded like a chorus of puppets.
Following more playings of the recording than Julie could bear, the Joneses found Mr. Bellows waiting for them in his car at the top of an entrance drive. A hundred yards in they came to a lodge. A gleaming Mercedes limo was parked in front.
"Nice and private here," said Mr. Jones as Mr. Bellows led them inside.
"It's the way we like it," Mr. Bellows said, giving Julie a wink.
A narrow vestibule opened by a pair of swinging doors into the main part of the lodge. Through the door windows Julie saw a dining area attended by well-dressed men standing about. On the floor beside the tables were shiny brass objects that looked like pitchers.
"All our members are here, nineteen of us. You'll need to put on the ceremonial robe, Julie. It's a little heavy but you'll get used to it," Mr. Bellows said.
"Gosh, this IS heavy," Julie said, after the robe settled over her.
The garment appeared to be a modified purple velour bathrobe weighted in the back and along the arms. Mr. Bellows belted it securely.
"Mr. Bellows, what's the BEC?," Julie said.
"Let's go in. I'll explain everything."
Mr. Bellows pushed open one of the doors and stuck his head inside.
"Be seated, gentlemen! Our honored guest is about to enter."
Julie kept her head down as she followed Mr. Bellows with her parents through the room to the sound of polite applause. Mr. Bellows brought them to a table near the front, before a stage. A podium was on the stage, behind it a long table or counter covered by an oil cloth and behind that, on the wall, hung a large, finely executed painting of a gazelle dropped by an arrow that still extended from a bleeding neck.
"We call this the throne chair," Mr. Bellows said, helping Julie to her seat. The chair had a high back and arms that rose almost to her shoulders. It was uncomfortably hard.
"Thank you," Julie said, softly.
"You look like a princess, honey," Mr. Jones beamed.
A middle aged woman appeared on the stage. She went to the podium.
"Greetings, all. What a happy day! Yes?"
"Indeed!," shouted Mr. Bellows amid the applause.
"Julie, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, my name is Hilda. I'm the only female member of BEC and I'm also our club's official welcomer. I help with the cooking, too."
Laughter at this.
"Well, that's for later. For now, let me just say welcome and a big congratulations, Julie, and I am pleased to introduce someone you've already met. Our president, Emery Bellows!"
Mr. Bellows came to the point.
"Mr. Jones, how would you like to go to Disney World? How would you like that, Mrs. Jones? Two full weeks, all free, a trip worth fifteen thousand dollars and I'm not talking Epcot or that other side show crap, I'm talking pure Magic Kingdom. Well...?
"I...I don't understand," Norman Jones said, his voice reduced to a whisper.
"This award is for you, Mr. Jones, and you, Mrs. Jones. An award for your great accomplishment in raising a champion girl like Julie. Julie is in the seat of honor and properly so for having earned you this fine reward. You remember that limo parked out front. That's the limo to take you to the airport right after this ceremony. Your trip is all set. You'll be staying at the brand new Cinderella Castle Motor Lodge, right outside the gates. It's not an exact replica, can't be since it's a motel, but you'll see the resemblance and you've got the Minnie Mouse Suite for fourteen days and thirteen nights. Everything free, meals included."
"Geez, I can't believe it," Mr. Jones said. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"What about your job, Norman?," said Mrs. Jones who was equally moved. "You don't have any vacation time coming. You'd lose your job."
Mr. Jones nodded. "Yeah, that's ok. Fourteen days, Mr. Bellows?"
"Yes, sir. Everything paid for. Even souvenirs, any that you want. That's on top of the fifteen thousand for the trip."
"Wow," said Mr. Jones.
Julie could hardly believe her ears.
"Daddy, what are you saying!? You can't lose your job. How will you buy food? How will you pay the mortgage. What about me? Did you forget I'm going to college?"
"Hmmmmm," said Mr. Jones in the face of these unpleasant concerns.
Mr. Bellows put up a reassuring hand.
"Not to worry, not to worry. A needy person can always find food and shelter in today's world. What's more important, folks, paying a damn bank or fourteen days in the Magic Kingdom? Now, regarding this college business, here's the thing."
Mr. Bellows looked down at a red button on the side of the podium that when pressed would activate the magnetic field in Julie's chair, which had a metal core. Mr. Bellows put his finger on the button. Sure enough, Julie's arms snapped against the sides of her chair. She tried to get up only to find that she couldn't move her bottom or her back.
"Daddy!!"
"Shhhhh, dear," said Hilda, coming over with a handy ball gag.
"What's this!?," demanded Mr. Jones.
"Children should be seen not heard, Mr. Jones," said Mr. Bellows. "You know that rhyme? 'Father heard his children scream, so he threw them in the stream, saying as he drowned the third, children should be seen not heard.' Bear with me. But let me ask you, don't you get just a little satisfaction seeing her like that, unable to say Daddy give me this, Daddy give me that, give me, give me, give me all God damn day."
Mr. Jones looked at Mrs. Jones.
"The man has a point, Norman," said Mrs. Jones, whose thoughts lingered on the Magic Kingdom.
"So now let me tell you about the BEC," Mr. Bellows went on. "We're the Bold Eaters Club. Once a month we have a dinner at the lodge here unlike most dinners, let me tell you. Last month it was steamed rhinoceros testicles in a sauce of whale sperm mixed with fried red ants. God awful but we ate it. Month before was just as bad – baked Kangaroo tails presented on a bed of snake eggs. The tables are small cause we sit one member to a table and those spittoons you see. They're for puking. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes we have a good tasting meal. Believe me, you folks wouldn't be here if we didn't hanker for a tasty treat now and then. Remember the panda that got stolen from the zoo. That was us. Fine dinner, it was. One thing we've never had is a roasted girl. That's where Julie comes in. If you want the trip to Disney World you gotta let us roast your daughter and, by the way, we want you to stay for dinner."
Mr. Bellows stepped back and took down the painting, revealing a glass door with a handle.
"This is where Julie will get her education, at oven university," Mr. Bellows quipped. "There's only one course at this university. It's what you could call a meat course. She'll learn all there is about a girl gettin herself cooked up as meat. Now you may think it's not a reward if you have to give up your daughter to get the trip, but you're wrong if you think that because when you see her on the platter you're going to see one of the all time great roasts in the history of the culinary arts. Yes, it's a fleeting triumph, but tell me, Mr. Jones, what in life is not fleeting?"
"My goodness," said Mrs. Jones.
"You can say that again," said Mr. Jones.
Hours later, Mr. Bellows escorted the Joneses to the limo. In his pocket was the couple's sworn statement acknowledging sole responsibility for their child's disappearance. Mr. Jones's stomach, like his wife's, was full. He had made the first carving himself, an event not overlooked by Mr. Bellow's camera. To give credit where due, it took several minutes for Mr. Jones to weigh his options before deciding for himself and Mrs. Jones that the trip to Disney World was well worth the loss of his job, his house and his daughter. Once made, the decision proved wonderfully liberating and surprisingly sensual. He watched the preparations with great interest. He held his breath when Julie was brought to the oven, her stuffed tummy quivering with the rest of her, blue eyes batting cutely. He chuckled when Mr. Bellows told him during the cooking of how the hypnotic chip had been placed in the bedroom television. He chuckled again at learning that Julie's robe and chair had been made for her and probably would not be used again. It impressed him to know that the members of BEC were millionaires who, as Mr. Bellows suggested, were not to be messed with.
"All these new fangled things they got," Mr. Jones said, shaking his head in wonder. "So me and the missus got hypnotized about Disney World. I just hope it don't ever wear off."
"Not for fourteen days it won't," Mr. Bellows assured, holding open the door to the limo.
"Geez, fourteen days!," said Mr. Jones.
The door closed and the limo headed smoothly up the drive.
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