Dreamlands Park, After Closing

I was visiting the Dreamlands Theme Park, and somehow managed to become separated from the rest of my group. I wandered around for a bit, checking out the shops in the far corners of the park. There was a little hat shop I liked, so was there in the little nook between two knolls when the fireworks began to go off. The fireworks signaled the closing of the park, and most people rushed to the little mock village in the front of the park to get the best view of the fireworks. I figured that would most likely be where my friends had gone. I stayed to talk to the hat shop clerks, and the milliner, who'd stepped out front to view the fireworks.

He commented that though they seemed pretty far away, we did have a good view of the show, because of the alignment of the valley. (Dreamlands Park, while a lot like Disneyland, was on much hillier terrain, more like Legoland California. It was an interesting feature of the Dreamlands part that there were several access tunnels through the hills and knolls of the park, leading from one section to another, and out into the loading docks and warehouses and kitchens in the back areas of the park. We chatted a bit, and he gave me a really nice scholar's/prelate cap to go with my cloak. As I walked to the front of the park, I stopped to talk to several of the craftsmen, as I had gotten to know them over the years.

As I passed through one of the large outdoor stage areas, some of the performers recognized me and invited me to stay a while for their post closing sing along. They sang the various shows' songs, and used the time to learn other shows' songs in case they needed to fill in, or wanted to change parts. I really wanted to get to my friends, but they convinced me to stay and sing a couple of songs. I made it through one song and one of the directors came and took me aside to ask if I would ever think of actually performing at the park. "Only if I don't sing," I laughed.

He laughed as well and said, "Of course not." He'd sent me on my way, having rescued me from the never ending song that had just started up as the performer's second selection.

Each time I stopped to chat, my outfit would change and soon I was dressed in cloak, scholar's cap, white frilled shirt and surplice, breeches that were black like my cape but with red and gold trim (also like the cape and hat.)

As I made my way through the candle and print shops, a group of clergy entered the shop and greeted me as Reverend Malthus.  I decided, after getting the "go for it" signal from the candlestick maker, to go along with the charade. I played the part for a bit, and then one of the clergy noticed my computer bag under my cloak and started going through it to look at all the odd "devilish looking" implements, pens, a watch, etc.  Most of the stuff wasn't mine, but I made it to be a sample of tricky German engineering, or a Spanish tube of ink with a steel nib, etc. It made for an amusing few moments and really stretched my imagination. We moved up to the Print Shop and while there, we picked up some more lost and found items to take to the front of the park. While I was there I noticed the real Reverend Malthus (well, an actor portraying him) making his way across the street with his own group of clergy.

Rather than a confrontation, we greeted each other as brothers, and laughed at the confusion of our "junior" clergymen. We posed together for pictures on each of the lost cell phones and digital cameras, figuring that would be a funny surprise for whoever claimed them. We spent a bit of time adjusting our costumes and primping our ruffles and vestments before each shot, trying to get just the right "serious and pious" expressions. He whispered to me that my friends were waiting at the front of the park, having figured out that they'd lost me. We gripped hands and hugged, sending one another on our way. He suggested (in character) that we should do this more often. We continued our tour, he handing me his group's Lost and Found items to take up to the management office, as he was actually still headed deeper into the park.  Some of my actors were very confused, so some others tried to straighten them out by saying that I was the "real" reverend Malthus and not their actor. I had a very hard time staying in character at that point I wanted to laugh so much.

When we got to the front offices I dropped my "disguise" and was back in my normal clothing, much to the younger actors' amazement. "It's the Old Man on the Hill" they whispered to one another.

"I can still hear you, you know."

Myself and the older actors and the office staff laughed at the blushing and stuttering youths. I smoothed things over by shaking each of their hands and thanking them for a delightful evening. I left a gold coin in each of their palms. (Too bad I can't do that trick for real.) My friends were waiting just outside the park office and we blended in and exited with the last of the happy and exhausted crowd.