Naughty Little Secrets. Mary Wilbon

or utter a sound for two years.

      Disney made a substantial and quiet settlement out of court with the parents of the badly traumatized child. Oddly enough, as part of the settlement, the parents had demanded free lifetime passes to all the Disney theme parks, worldwide. After all, they had five other children.

      The family agreed not to go public with their lawsuit, so it did not become a media disaster for Disney, but, of course, Dale was forever banished from The Magic Kingdom.

      He wasn’t even allowed at Disney’s annual Gay Day festivities.

      Since 1991, hundreds of thousands of gay men and lesbians from around the world get together one weekend in summer to celebrate a Pride event at Disney. Every gay person on the planet is welcome.

      Every gay person except Dale.

      His picture is posted conspicuously inside all the entrance booths for the ticket takers. Security guards are in constant surveillance of the park gates to guarantee he does not get through them.

      There would be no more Gay Day breakfasts for Dale with Winnie the Pooh or Tigger, too.

      The Mouse can be so unforgiving and vindictive.

      After that, he was unable to get work at any of the other theme parks in Orlando, or at any of the Florida theaters.

      When he went on job interviews, he was always asked why he left Disney. He would attempt to skirt the question by saying something about creative differences and his artistic integrity, but no one believed him. And no one called him back with a job offer.

      Soon interest in him dried up completely.

      Dale’s career at Disney had soared brightly, then crashed and burned spectacularly. Now he couldn’t get arrested.

      When he got the call from Sindee asking him to help stage an original musical, he saw it as an opportunity to rebuild his reputation. He swallowed his pride, packed his bags, and returned to New Jersey.

      “The screaming little bastard could have at least kept quiet until my Prince had cum,” Dale concluded.

      Sindee had just taken another drink from the bottle. She started laughing and spit the whole mouthful out, spraying rum and Coke all over both of them. They broke into fits of laughter. They wiped their faces and clothes as best they could.

      “What happened to ‘Prince Charming’?” Sindee asked.

      “He was fired, too,” answered Dale. “But with his considerable oral skills, he was able to blow his way into a job as Weatherman at one of the Florida TV stations.”

      Dale took another bottle of spiked Diet Coke out of his backpack and opened it. He became very serious.

      “Do the Taylors know about it?” he asked nervously.

      “No. No one here knows but you and me,” Sindee replied.

      “I’d like to work here again after this show is over. I’d hate for them to find out that I…”

      “They won’t find out,” Sindee cut him off. “I’ll make sure they won’t. They’re very trusting. Sometimes too much for their own good. I’ve never seen a theater where the owners let the actors and the crew have access to the accounts. I’ll have to speak with them about that.”

      She laughed softly.

      Dale smiled and nodded in agreement. His gaze drifted toward the theater’s office. The Taylors were very trusting, indeed, he thought. The money in the office safe was available to everyone.

      He returned his attention to Sindee. He drank some Coke.

      Unlike Dale, Sindee’s theater work had never taken her beyond New Jersey. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the talent to turn professional. She didn’t have the temperament.

      Sindee told Dale how she had auditioned for a part in the theater’s production of The Little Foxes two seasons earlier. She would have taken anything just to get her foot in the door, but luckily she landed the part of Regina Giddens, the female lead. The Taylors thought Sindee had a very strong Bette Davis quality. Davis had played that role in the movie adaptation.

      After that, Sindee threw herself wholeheartedly into any production that was done at the theater, in any way that she was needed, onstage or off.

      Some of the regular members in the group who had been there longer didn’t like the way that Sindee had moved in and gained the Taylors’ trust, but Sindee didn’t care. As long as the Taylors were happy with her work, Sindee could weather any backstage jealousy.

      A number of the actors didn’t want to do the necessary backstage work such as stage managing, assistant stage managing, lights, or props, but Sindee performed these tasks as eagerly and as skillfully as she did her acting assignments.

      The Taylors were grateful.

      So by the time Sindee approached them to do a musical, for which she would write the musical score and hire the musicians and choreographer, she had earned their complete confidence. They were understandably unsure at first, having no experience with musicals, but they had faith in Sindee.

      Other members of the group were salivating to do a musical as well, and even if they didn’t share the Taylors’ high regard for Sindee, they climbed on board quickly.

      So the Taylors nervously agreed to do a musical, and they agreed to hire Dale Mabrey based upon Sindee’s vigorous recommendation.

      “You are so good to me,” Dale said, when Sindee finished her story. “Why is it that we never got together?”

      Sindee chuckled. “You mean besides the fact that ‘gayer than laughter are you’?”

      “Yes, besides that.”

      Sindee thought for a moment. “It’s probably because I’d always be after your boyfriends, or because I’d leave you in a heartbeat if I met the woman of my dreams.”

      Dale smiled. Same old Sindee. “Still playing for both teams, eh?”

      “What can I say,” admitted Sindee. “I love men and I love women. I am intentionally and exuberantly ambivalent. I refuse to choose. And besides, it doubles my chances for getting laid on a Friday night. Any more prying questions?”

      “Yes. You haven’t seen me dance or stage anything since I went to Florida. And on top of that, God help me, I’m almost forty-four. Aging might be great for wine and Scotch, but it’s just slow death for a dancer. What made you recommend me to the Taylors?”

      Sindee took the Diet Coke bottle from him, and placed her almost finished cigarette in his mouth.

      “Do the routine you just rehearsed with those kids. Go.”

      Sindee sang the musical accompaniment and clapped her hands to the beat.

      Dale launched immediately into the demanding dance number and executed each move masterfully, and with great flourish.

      When he was finished, Sindee went over to him and removed the cigarette from his mouth.

      “That’s why I recommended you,” she said, pointing to the nearly finished smoke.

      The long ash that had formed there before she first gave it to him had remained perfectly intact throughout the entire dance sequence.

      “You were always as smooth and as graceful as a cat. I knew that if you were anything less, you wouldn’t have taken the job. And like me, you’re a fussy perfectionist. I knew you’d get every motion, every nuance you could out of these dancers. So, in the long run, if you’re good, I look good to Addison and Karson. I simply made a smart business decision.”

      Dale did a deep grand plié acknowledging the compliment, then returned to the conversation.

      “Well, your call came just at the right time,” said Dale, as he began to pack up his gear. “I really needed to get out of Florida fast. I would have sprouted wings and flown here if I