Read The Return: Disney Lands for Free Online Page A

edge
of that plane—it would pass through.
Thank you, Mr. MacDonald!
    He had no choice. With the Dapper Dan nearly upon him, Finn hurried back several steps, took a running start, and raced toward the glowing television. He leaped and dived, hands together like he
was diving into a swimming pool. He expected a collision, the sound of breaking glass, sparks, and possibly a fire.
    Instead, his vision went oily for the second time.He thought he heard the Dapper Dan screaming, but the man’s words were indecipherable. Somehow, they sounded almost as if they were
playing at fast-forward.

F INN BLINKED THROUGH blurred vision.When it cleared, he found himself riding Jingles on King Arthur
Carrousel. He confirmed his status as a hologram by running his hand through the brass supporting Jingles.
    He didn’t remember anything beyond climbing onto the horse. Though his arm stung and it felt as if he’d lost time, a few minutes perhaps, he was disappointed that nothing had
happened. In fact, he felt like a fool forbelieving something would. He glanced at his watch, feeling drawn to it. It was late, but it was nearly always late when he returned.
    Climbing down off Jingles, Finn caught sight of a scar on his right forearm. He leaned in for a closer look.
    It wasn’t a scar, but a crude sketch of a missile. No, not a missile, but a…pen. A fountain pen, just like Walt’s.
    Unable to remember how thepen got onto his arm, he stood on the carousel, watching the park spin past, perplexed. He felt a little like he had the time he’d slipped while running around
the rec center swimming pool and thumping his head on the concrete. Dazed.
    Coming out of that daze he recalled the red eyes glowing in the shadows. He ducked behind the horses, and crawled on hands and knees to the outer edge of thecarousel. He slipped off onto the
asphalt, and started running.
    Racing through the dark park and around the castle, his imagination went wild. He could picture whatever creature belonged to those red eyes coming after him. He could envision the wraiths
swirling overhead, descending, shrieking with anger.
    At last, he reached the Partners statue and, with the Return in hand, pushed thebutton.

F INN SAT BOLT UPRIGHT IN BED andpeeled away the bedding to reveal he was wearing street clothes. He had a
series of red blotches on his left arm, like bee stings.
    Taking a deep breath, he yanked his right shirt sleeve to his elbow.
    A fountain pen was drawn on his arm.
    “Well?”
    He jumped, practically levitating off the mattress.
    “Mom?” He pulled down his sleeve.
    “You were expecting someone else?” shesaid. She sat on his desk chair in her nightgown and robe.
    “I was expecting you to be in your bed sleeping.”
    “Sorry to disappoint,” she said.
    “You scared me.”
    “I don’t think you needed me for that. You looked plenty scared when you came awake.” She crossed the robe tighter at her neck as if chilly. The room was warm. “Are you
going to tell me about your arm?”
    Finn held outhis forearm, hoisted his sleeve once again, and turned on the bedside light. He said nothing.
    “So?”
    “No big deal.”
    “Walt’s pen?” his mother asked. “Looks like that to me.”
    Finn withdrew Walt’s pen from his pocket and held it up for comparison. “Pretty close, I’d say.”
    “And?”
    “And I didn’t draw it, Mom. I’m not much as a lefty.”
    She sat on the bed beside him, lookedagain at his forearm.
    “First of all,” Finn said, “the only pen I have on me is Walt’s fountain pen, and this drawing isn’t fountain pen ink. It’s from a ballpoint or some kind of
marker.”
    “Mmmm,” she said, inspecting the sketch more closely.
    “And like I said, it’s on my right arm, meaning I would have drawn it with my left. I can’t draw stick figures with my left hand, much lesssomething as good as
this.”
    He jumped out of bed. Checked his watch. “I’ve got to call Philby and let him know I returned.”
    She