Dream Factory by BARKLEY BRAD

Author:BARKLEY, BRAD
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: PENGUIN group

10

Luke

The first thing I think is, I have to tell Amy.

For a minute I can’t think of his character name—Foul-weather? Foulmouth? Actually, that would be pretty funny. J. Worthington Foulmouth, and all his animated movies are rated R. But no, as soon as I say that to myself, I remember . . . Foulfellow. His costume is unmistakable—a giant fur fox head that looks about ten times heavier than my Dale head, a big green top hat, cape, cane, spats—all of it just the way Mark described. I’m thinking, too, that he must be on break because he’s sitting on the ground with his back against a palm tree, and he’s eating a plate of nachos. The weird thing is the way he slips a nacho, dripping melty cheese, up under his fur head and, I assume, into his mouth, but it doesn’t really look like that. The move is so deft that I can’t even see the character head move, and it pretty much looks like one of Pinocchio’s friends is just hanging out and eating nachos. I can’t see how he does it. I mean, all this week Cassie and I are supposed to give out these rubber pencil toppers of Chip and Dale, only I can never pick up the little Dales when I’m wearing the fur hands, no matter how hard I try. I end up just reaching into the bag and scattering them on the ground, and Mr. Forrester has already yelled at me for it twice. “The pencil toppers are not birdseed,” he told me. Of course, sitting around and eating nachos is also a mortal sin in the Church of Mr. Forrester, but what’s he going to say? The guy is on break, trying to have lunch, and still he’s greeting little kids, shaking hands, posing for pics, all of it. A true believer.

The only reason I’m in Fantasyland in the first place is because I got a note from Ella that morning saying it was probably better if we just split the rest of the list and work separately and that I could have O thru Z. I start with an easy one, Tinker Bell, and after I forget about J. Worthington Foulfellow and his nacho trick, I find about a million Tinker Bells in the gift shop: Tinker Bell key chains and wallets and rubber stamp kits. And as soon as I pick one up and hold it in front of me and hold the camera out and point it at myself, I remember Evelyn’s first rule—we are competing in pairs. Siamese twin pairs, not distantly orbiting stars pairs. Damn. For half a minute I even have the stupid idea to find some substitute, some thin brunette girl, maybe wearing sunglasses, who would pose next to me and smile, and if the picture were cut off or blurry enough, it would be good enough to fool everyone. I’m also wondering if we are really distant stars in orbit, and right now

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