Chapter 1
In which there's a dunking, a fight and the promise of a churro
The funny thing about the Happiest Place on Earth is that at the end of the day, parents look like they've been run over by a dump truck about fifty times. It's not that it's necessarily a tough place to hang out. It's that your senses are assaulted on all sides by a million little lights, sounds and that incessant question, "Hey can I get that?"
We'd only been here half a day and Dylan probably owned half of the crap sold at MagicHappyFuntimeLand. (Hey, even as a demi-goddess I'm not immune to the little rodent's team of copyright lawyers.) I didn't begrudge him, though - he'd earned it. Hell, if he wanted me to buy the entire park, I'd rob a bank for him. I looked across the bench at him and watched the wondrous grin that split his face.
I hadn't been sure that he'd still be into this but I'd been promising to take him since he was six. Eight years later, here we sat. He'd turned fourteen yesterday and I'd asked him where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do.
He'd shrugged in that noncommittal way teenagers have that make you want to wrap your fingers around their throats just to drag out a decisive and cohesive sentence. "I don't know."
And that, my friends, was the way of the parental conversation. You ask – they don't know.
"It's NBD, Mom. We don't have to do anything."
"NBD - why would you even say that? Speak English!"
He rolled his eyes and turned away. "No big deal."
I suppressed a grimace and pushed forward. "Do you remember what you did for your thirteenth birthday?"
His shoulders tensed and I braced for impact. "Yeah, I spent it with Grandma because you were off cleaning up the mess you'd made with Hypnos."
Direct hit. Damage taken to the conscience, heart and gut. "Right. So yes, this is a big deal. I'm asking you what you want to do because for once, I have the ability to take you anywhere and do anything you want. This is your special day and by all that is holy you are going to enjoy it."
A belabored groan left his lips and he turned back to me, giving me the best sullen look he could conjure. Well, he'd just have to try harder. I'd invented the sullen look and I told him so. I got another eye roll for my efforts before he shrugged and said, "I dunno. We never went to MagicHappyFuntimeLand. I guess we could go there."
I stifled the pained sigh. It wasn't easy to get into that place anymore. Nearly one hundred miles in every direction from the epicenter of the Greater LA earthquake lay in devastated waste. The only bastion left standing was the Magic Slice of Happiness.
Magic indeed.
People joke about the park's magic. Yeah, they shouldn't – there'd been some serious mojo that kept this place completely intact. My theory was that all of the positive energy and memories from over the years had wrapped the grounds in a protective blanket that absorbed the impact from the quake and protected the immediate area from the creatures Geb had spawned to wreak further pain and suffering on the California coastal towns.
The fact that it was the only place left standing in a fifty mile swath of land made it the hottest ticket in the Country. Everyone wanted to bathe in that protection – in that magic. Getting tickets was nearly impossible. The good news here was that because of this new exclusivity, it wouldn't be as crowded and the lines would be shorter.
"Done," I countered. "A MagicHappyFuntimeLand vacation it is. Any particular hotel you want to stay at?"
His startled, wide-eyed gaze met mine and I suppressed a smile. He hadn't thought I'd say yes. Score one for Mom. "N-no. Whatever is fine."
"Cool. I'll have Marisol get us some reservations and we'll pop down there tomorrow after we pack. Teleportation – the only way to travel," I exclaimed and made my way out of his quarters before slumping against the wall.
Jesus. I'd felt like a diplomat in that room asking for
In which there's a dunking, a fight and the promise of a churro
The funny thing about the Happiest Place on Earth is that at the end of the day, parents look like they've been run over by a dump truck about fifty times. It's not that it's necessarily a tough place to hang out. It's that your senses are assaulted on all sides by a million little lights, sounds and that incessant question, "Hey can I get that?"
We'd only been here half a day and Dylan probably owned half of the crap sold at MagicHappyFuntimeLand. (Hey, even as a demi-goddess I'm not immune to the little rodent's team of copyright lawyers.) I didn't begrudge him, though - he'd earned it. Hell, if he wanted me to buy the entire park, I'd rob a bank for him. I looked across the bench at him and watched the wondrous grin that split his face.
I hadn't been sure that he'd still be into this but I'd been promising to take him since he was six. Eight years later, here we sat. He'd turned fourteen yesterday and I'd asked him where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do.
He'd shrugged in that noncommittal way teenagers have that make you want to wrap your fingers around their throats just to drag out a decisive and cohesive sentence. "I don't know."
And that, my friends, was the way of the parental conversation. You ask – they don't know.
"It's NBD, Mom. We don't have to do anything."
"NBD - why would you even say that? Speak English!"
He rolled his eyes and turned away. "No big deal."
I suppressed a grimace and pushed forward. "Do you remember what you did for your thirteenth birthday?"
His shoulders tensed and I braced for impact. "Yeah, I spent it with Grandma because you were off cleaning up the mess you'd made with Hypnos."
Direct hit. Damage taken to the conscience, heart and gut. "Right. So yes, this is a big deal. I'm asking you what you want to do because for once, I have the ability to take you anywhere and do anything you want. This is your special day and by all that is holy you are going to enjoy it."
A belabored groan left his lips and he turned back to me, giving me the best sullen look he could conjure. Well, he'd just have to try harder. I'd invented the sullen look and I told him so. I got another eye roll for my efforts before he shrugged and said, "I dunno. We never went to MagicHappyFuntimeLand. I guess we could go there."
I stifled the pained sigh. It wasn't easy to get into that place anymore. Nearly one hundred miles in every direction from the epicenter of the Greater LA earthquake lay in devastated waste. The only bastion left standing was the Magic Slice of Happiness.
Magic indeed.
People joke about the park's magic. Yeah, they shouldn't – there'd been some serious mojo that kept this place completely intact. My theory was that all of the positive energy and memories from over the years had wrapped the grounds in a protective blanket that absorbed the impact from the quake and protected the immediate area from the creatures Geb had spawned to wreak further pain and suffering on the California coastal towns.
The fact that it was the only place left standing in a fifty mile swath of land made it the hottest ticket in the Country. Everyone wanted to bathe in that protection – in that magic. Getting tickets was nearly impossible. The good news here was that because of this new exclusivity, it wouldn't be as crowded and the lines would be shorter.
"Done," I countered. "A MagicHappyFuntimeLand vacation it is. Any particular hotel you want to stay at?"
His startled, wide-eyed gaze met mine and I suppressed a smile. He hadn't thought I'd say yes. Score one for Mom. "N-no. Whatever is fine."
"Cool. I'll have Marisol get us some reservations and we'll pop down there tomorrow after we pack. Teleportation – the only way to travel," I exclaimed and made my way out of his quarters before slumping against the wall.
Jesus. I'd felt like a diplomat in that room asking for
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