Maisie enjoyed Melody’s presence. It was as if she had heard her plan. She didn’t understand why Feya was on edge, but hopefully, the talk would help her. Maisie’s phone buzzed with a text message from her grief counselor, but she didn’t check it at first because Mackenzie was starting.
“Ten years ago, Coronado held a Southwestern music festival that Southwestern artists from all over attended. A girl, said to have once been a Cast Member, wanted to bring a different, non-Southwestern voice to it.” Mackenzie circled the fire. “Legend has it that she stayed in Veracruz until the day of the festival, hiding in bathrooms, behind buildings, and occasionally the ballrooms.”
Melody cringed, and Maisie turned on a bewildered face. She remembered Melody telling her about the music festival, but what about hiding in bathrooms, ballrooms, etc.? Was Melody... before she died? Was that really how much the CP and her family shunned her?
Maisie’s cheeks puffed out. Walt Disney became an artist—he had achieved his dream—so why wouldn’t anyone let Melody?
“On the night of the festival, the girl ran away,” continued Mackenzie. “A freak accident knocked her into Lago Dorado, where she drowned.”
Freak accident? Nah-hah! Melody killed herself. What was Disney telling the Recreation Cast Members?
“They never found the body. However”—Mackenzie held up one finger—“it’s said her ghost haunts Veracruz and Lago Dorado with her siren voice. Some say it’s a call for help, while others say it’s a call of danger.”
That was wrong, too. Melody was not a ghost. She was a spirit, and she wasn’t dangerous at all. Now was the perfect opportunity for Maisie to take her stand.
She raised her hand. “Excuse me, Ms. Mackenzie, may I ask something?”
“What are you doing, May?” Feya hissed into her ear.
Maisie had already stood and crossed her arms.
Mackenzie faced her. “Of course... um...” Her voice trailed.
“Maisie,” Maisie finished. “Maisie Claire Foster.”
“Maisie,” Mackenzie giggled. “Beautiful name! What would you like to know?”
“It’s just a little thing.” Maisie dropped one arm and emphasized with her thumb and index finger. She approached Mackenzie.
Feya attempted to stand, but Melody sat her down.
Maisie crossed her arms again. “Has it ever occurred to you, Ms. Mackenzie—or the whole Coronado staff—that maybe this girl ten years ago was in trouble, and that was why she hid in Veracruz?”
“Well... um...” Mackenzie fell silent.
Maisie tapped her chin. “If I recall, the two most important Disney Keys are Safety and Inclusion. Walt Disney, who created all this, had one dream: to become an artist. Getting recognized is very difficult if you know anything about the artistic world. That girl may have been running from her past, and she thought the music festival would help her.” Did Maisie raise her voice? She felt tears burning behind her eyes. “So why didn’t they? What happened at the festival that she had a ‘freak’ accident afterward?”
“Maisie,” Feya growled, “there are children present.”
“They need to hear this,” Maisie snarled, wrinkling her nose. “All I’m saying is that someone should have gone to that girl, Cast Member or not, and asked if she needed help. It may have saved her life.”
At first, it appeared Mackenzie would send Maisie and her party away, but then an oh look crossed her face. She and Maisie glanced at Melody. Was she, a spirit, crying?
Melody didn’t look embarrassed but depressed. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, hiccupping through her tears. Who knew a spirit could cry?
Feya did, too, and hugged Melody. “I’m sorry, too, Melody. I’m sorry I tried to kill myself. I never meant to hurt you.”
“I just wanted to share my voice,” Melody admitted. “Take a shot at becoming a Disney Princess or something. I just wanted to sing.”
“Wait.” Mackenzie hid behind her hand and asked Maisie, “Is she...?”
Maisie nodded. “She is, and I think we should let her say the real story.”
“What’s going on?” a few curious Guests and children inquired.
Maisie gestured at Melody. “It’s okay, Melody. Feya and Daisy are with you.”
Melody nervously stood and tripped over her own feet. She came within reach of Maisie, her hand in Feya’s, and faced the crowd.
“Walt Disney once said, ‘If you can dream it, you can do it.’” Melody released Feya and placed her hands in front of her. She lowered her head and lifted it again, looking a little more confident but also serious. “However, one does not achieve something alone. Ladies and gentlemen, I implore you to never shun someone because of who they are. We live in a fragile, unstable world, and working together is the only way to survive and live our dreams. That is why this convention, Summit 2023, is at Coronado. Disney is the ‘most magical place on Earth,’ but it still has flaws, as we all do. One man does not run this company. Many people do, and we must treat everyone equally, Cast Members and Guests. That is how we will truly make our dreams come true.”
Maisie’s jaw dropped. Finally, after ten years, Melody stood up for herself—for everyone at Disney World. She showed herself to Maisie and Feya, and now she was in front of a crowd.
Maisie felt like a proud mom who watched her child win the championship game. She remembered the day Matthew helped her share her identity with her parents, the day Feya told her, ‘Sometimes moving on just takes a little bit of courage,’ and how she and Feya jumped into Lago Dorado together.
“I’m sorry,” Melody apologized. “I didn’t mean to ramble. If you’ll excuse me.” She turned and started to leave the fire pit.
Maisie clapped first, then Feya, Mackenzie, and eventually the entire group.
Now, Melody’s jaw fell. She rubbed her eyes, turned back, and said, “Thank you.”
The crowd stood and clapped some more. “We’ll do better, Miss Melody!” they announced.
It seemed they understood Melody was different, but not that she was a spirit, which Maisie wanted. She wanted to share her story without giving her identity away. Mackenzie would be the actual test, but Maisie trusted she wouldn’t tell anyone, especially after Melody’s speech.
