Chapter 30: Believe

“Peter?”I called out. 

No sound, no one; just the lone open chest. 

I ran over to it and looked inside the gold box. All the starstuff was gone. 

“What just happened?”I muttered to myself. 

Then I heard a tinkling of bells and a flash of light zoom by my face.

“Tinkerbell?” 

A jingle answered me and I saw Tinkerbell staring at me.

“You’re alive!” I said gleefully. But then I thought of Peter.

“Wait, what happened to Peter?’I asked, searching her face for good news. 

But her face fell and nodded gloomily towards Fantasyland.

“No . . . ,”I muttered and started running towards the Peter Pan ride. 

Tinkerbell followed quickly behind me.

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What I saw, I couldn’t explain. 

There was no ride, it was like the ride never existed. 

“How did this happen?’I yelled. 

Then a random janitor happened to hear me. 

“What’s the matter?”he asked.

I gestured to the random lot, between another ride attraction and walkway next to the castle.

“Oh, that open space. I don’t know but from speculations, Walt was going to build an attraction there but it is  . . . cursed.”

“Cursed?”

“Yes. Every single cotton seed that was planted there died instantly. Farmers told Walt that this very piece of land was forsaken by God himself.”

“Really? What did Walt do for Peter Pan then?”

“Peter Pan?”

“Yea. His 1953 animated film.”

“I’m sorry, but Disney never made a film called ‘Peter Pan’.”

“What? I thought he loved the story of the boy who could fly and never grow up.”

“I never heard of it. You should write a story about this Peter Pan. People might be interested to hear it. Good night.”

And off he went.

“So it never existed? Tink, something is really wrong. We need to get to the bridge.”

I backed up a little and sprinted towards the barricade. I vaulted over it and landed in a puddle of mud. 

“Yuck, okay, so where is the bridge?”

There was nothing in sight except rusty framework and mud. Tinkerbell yanked my hair and pointed towards a rusty looking refrigerator type of object. 

She jingled one thing that I could understand,”Believe.” Then she zipped around me, showering ‘pixie dust’  on me. 

I nodded. Believe  . . . just gotta believe.

I closed my eyes and started walking towards the refrigerator. I remembered my dad telling me “stories” about Peter. Meeting my buddies and joining the J.U.S.S. My dad disappearing and my encounter with Jesus Christ. Hanging out with Peter in Disneyland. Peter’s fight and death. His comeback for saving me . . . Believe.

Then all went white.