Episode 9.3

It's the sign that triggers this for me. Not the green and white highway signs that take us from the freeway to I-4, or the brown and white signs that guide us along World Drive. Throughout this time, Charlie, Gillian and I have maintained relative calm. Small talk in the car, searching for stations on the radio, looking out the windows to see the famous amusement park. It's your typical trip to Disney World. But

when the pink, purple and blue sign looms in the distance... when the huge blue letters arc across the eight lanes of a perfectly paved road... when the stylized words "Magic Kingdom" and the car appear passes directly below them, all three of us turn our heads skyward and remain silent. Gillian's mouth is wide open. Charlie's ragged breathing becomes loud enough for me to notice. And the tight arousal in my own chest makes me feel like an elephant has just sat down.

Over my heart I look at Charlie to make sure that he is fine. He draws a smile that I know is fake. I smile back at him, the same way. We did exactly the same thing the first time we came here, when he was so excited he threw up on the roller coaster, and I was afraid of running into Captain Hook. Sixteen years later, I'm tired of being afraid.

We're watching Snow White. Watching the way he moves and who he talks to. I lean against the wall. Gillian is next to me, pretending to have a conversation. Charlie, more nervous than usual, he wanders through the crowd. But we do nothing but watch... study... take mental notes. Of course, Snow White has no idea we're there, and as we linger in the shadows behind Cinderella's Castle, neither do the autograph-hunting kids or parents taking pictures of everything that moves and who are around her at this moment are looking at us. At that time, the swarm of people is six children deep, making it difficult for us to miss her.

From the moment we entered the park we went in search of the characters. On Main Street, through the castle and into Fantasy Land. But it wasn't until we heard a six-year-old behind us yell, "Mama, look!" that all three of us turned and saw the crowd. There she was, in the center of the storm: Snow White, the most beautiful character of all. To the children, she had appeared out of nowhere. For us, well... that's the thing. If you want to find the employee tunnel you have to start with the employees.

One by one, she allows each child to enjoy her moment. Some want a signature; the little ones just want to hold on to her skirt and look at her. Next to us, a teenager with hair like a mop, wears a black T-shirt that reads Why Do They Call It Tourist Season If We Can't Shoot Them? That was Charlie when he was fifteen. Next to him, two brothers, a boy and a girl, are locked in a smackdown battle. This is us when we were ten years old. But when Snow White beckons them, all three can't help but greet her. Eight minutes after Snow White appears—just as the crowd reaches its critical mass—a boy in a Disney polo shirt walks to the back of the crowd and gives the signal. Snow White looks up, but never gets out of character with her. That has been all. She steps back as she blows goodbye kisses to the crowd; she makes it clear that the time has come to leave the forum.

"Why is she leaving?" a curly-haired girl asks, obviously upset.

"You're late for your appointment with Prince Charming," the boy from the Disney polo shirt announces as sympathetically as possible.

"Shit," Charlie mutters.

I heard they got divorced years ago. She kept everything except the mirror.

Gillian punches him in the arm.

"Don't say that about...

"Shhhh... that's it," I tell them.

A few flashes go off signs one last autograph and a father who begs, "Please, just one more...Katie, smile!" takes one last photo.

Then, as if she were a movie star saying goodbye to her admirers, Snow White walks away from the crowd, which continues to protest until...

-Winnie The Pooh! a boy yells and everyone turns. Ten meters away the familiar figure of the bear in the red shirt magically appears and is immediately hugged by all the little ones. I have to concede to Disney that they certainly know how to distract people. The crowd starts running. We don't move. And that's when we discovered the old wooden door. Snow White and the lolly boy head straight for it behind Cinderella Castle, to the left of the Cinderella fountain—just under the arches, in the back corner of Tinker Bell's treasure shop. The way it's set back from the main path, it's almost like a bathroom. But nowhere does it say "Men" or "Women." It has no label. An old, unadorned door right under our noses. Perfectly designed to go unnoticed.

The boy in the Disney polo shirt takes one last look over his shoulder and checks for no curious stragglers. The three of us look elsewhere. Convinced that no one is looking, he opens the door and escorts Snow White inside. A second later the two have disappeared.

"Open sesame," Charlie says. "You think that's all?" — Gillian asks.

"That's the thing, isn't it?" — I ask, moving towards the door. -Wait! Gillian yells, grabbing me by the back of the

shirt-. What are you doing? "Looking for some answers." "But if there's a guard..."

"...then we'll say, 'Wow, we we've got the wrong door" and we'll leave. I break free of his hand and continue toward the door.

"Suddenly you're worried about our safety?" Charlie asks. Gillian doesn't answer. she has the sight stuck in me "Oliver, this is not something we should do lightly," she adds as I take another step.

But I don't listen to her. I just traveled three hours with the promise that I would get my life back. It's all on those tapes. I'm not leaving here without them. I grip the knob tightly and look back. The crowd is still focused on Pooh. It's now or never...

I throw the door wide open and turn to Gillian and Charlie. Both are hesitant, but they also know that there aren't too many alternatives. As soon as Gillian takes the first step, Charlie follows her. I'm not sure if my brother is suspicious of her or just scared. In any case, the three of us slipped into that place.

Dimly lit by a fluorescent light, the landing of the stairs is dark and deserted. There is nobody there, neither guards nor trace of Snow White. I check the walls and ceiling. There are also no camcorders. It makes sense when you think about it for a moment: this is Disney World not Fort Knox.

"Take a look at this," Charlie whispers, peering over the metal railing to our left.

I stand between Gillian and him to see it with my own eyes: paved stairs winding down four stories. The entrance to the underground.

"If I were six, do you know what nightmares this would give me?" Charlie asks.

He didn't answer her and I started to go down the stairs. It can't be too far.

"Take it easy," Gillian warns me as we spiral down into the depths.

When we got downstairs, we found another door, but unlike the one above, this one doesn't match the medieval atmosphere of Tinker Bell's Treasures. It is just a standard, ordinary door. I open it and stick my head into a small hallway. To my right, perpendicular to us, dozens of people pass each other in a larger hallway. Brilliant costumes flash past us. The echo of the voices bounces off the concrete. Here is the action. It is time to participate in it.