Chapter One
I am standing in line for Walt Disney's It's a Small World ride, holding my
four-year-old daughter in my arms, trying to entertain her as the serpentine
line of parents and children moves slowly toward the flat-bottomed boats
emerging from the grotto to the music of an endless audio loop. Suddenly Annie
jerks taut in my arms and points into the crowd.
"Daddy! I saw Mama! Hurry!"
I do not look. I don't ask where. I don't because Annie's mother died seven
months ago. I stand motionless in the line, looking just like everyone else
except for the hot tears that have begun to sting my eyes.
Annie keeps pointing into the crowd, becoming more and more agitated.
Even in Disney World, where periodic meltdowns are common, her fit draws
stares. Clutching her struggling body against mine, I work my way back through
the line, which sends her into outright panic. The green metal chutes double
back upon themselves to create the illusion of a short queue for prospective
riders. I push past countless staring families, finally reaching the relative
openness between the Carousel and Dumbo.
Holding Annie tighter, I rock and turn in s ... read full excerpt from: The Quiet Game ebook
