Terror at the Fair

Chapter Forty-Seven

After devouring all the stories in the four papers at my desk in the pressroom, I reached a long-distance operator on my telephone and gave her a California number I had kept on a neatly folded sheet of paper in my wallet.

After the second ring, a cultured female voice informed me I had reached “Mr. Walt Disney’s office.”

When I identified myself, she treated me like an old friend whose call had been eagerly anticipated. “Oh yes, I will put you right through, sir,” she said crisply.

“Ah, Mr. Malek, it is so good to hear from you,” Walt Disney said in a hearty tone. “Do you bring me some news from your grand railroad fair?”

I told him I did and proceeded to relate the saga of Rob Taylor, from his father’s tragic life all the way through to the grim finale on the fairgrounds, ending my narrative with: “So, you were absolutely right, Mr. Disney. You had it all figured out correctly, and because of you, a lot of lives surely got saved.”

“Well, this is a very sad story,” the filmmaker said, “but I am glad you prevented what would have been a far, far worse tragedy. Also, I want to relay all of this to Ward Kimball, who as I told you in Chicago often accuses me of indulging in flights of fancy. Although I must say in these tragic circumstances, I take no pleasure in having been correct.”

“Nonetheless, this particular flight of fancy of yours turned out to be an arrow that made a direct hit on the bulls-eye,” I said. “The fair certainly owes you a debt of thanks, although they may never know it.”

He laughed. “I would rather they didn’t know it. The people at the fair owe me nothing, Mr. Malek. They gave me so much pleasure when I was there that if anything, I am in their debt, and they are most surely in your debt. Have you recovered from your injuries?”

“Yes, they were superficial at most. I appreciate your concern.”

“You might be interested to know since I’ve been back here, I have begun thinking in earnest about my amusement park,” Disney said. “I can’t begin to tell you how many ideas I’ve gotten from the railroad fair that I plan to incorporate in the park.”

“So you can call the trip a success in more ways than one?”

“Indeed I can, Mr. Malek. And if you ever find yourself out here in beautiful Southern California, I insist you look me up. I would like to give you a tour of our studio, and perhaps someday, of our new amusement park as well. I’ll need to come up with a name for it, though.”

“I believe it should have your name somewhere in the title,” I said, as much to humor him as anything else. It still sounded like a half-baked idea to me.