“Excuse me!”
Disney-MGM Studios’ tourists looked in surprise at the club car maneuvering its way through the masses of people and towards the animation wing of the park. As they stepped aside, the car zoomed by without another glance from the driver. Finally he reached his destination, and he was rewarded by the sight of his charge smiling graciously at him.
“Afternoon, Miss P.,” he greeted amicably, nodding.
“Hi Al,” she returned as she climbed in next to him, “how are you?”
“Oh, can’t complain. You?”
“Fine, thanks.” Once sure she was seated and ready, Al took off again. Miss P., or Violet as she was more commonly known, watched as the all-too-familiar scenery flashed by. Sure, she was more than able to get to the monorail station on her own, but she couldn’t say she altogether minded being chauffered to and fro. At least it generated a breeze, and that was an all-too-rare commodity in June’s blistering heat.
Al pulled the car all the way up the monorail ramp, then parked and pulled out his walky-talky. “This is Car 10-2, the Prodigy’s been delivered,” he reported. Violet made a face and Al gave her an apologetic look as he replaced the device at his belt. “Sorry, Miss P., you know it’s standard procedure.”
“I know, I just wish they could’ve gotten a little more creative with the name,” she said, then gave a shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Thanks again, Al.”
The driver winked as he turned the tiny vehicle around. “Til tomorrow. Enjoy the show.”
Violet laughed and gave a wave as he drove off. She leaned against the railing and tried to ignore the stare of the station employee that had overheard the “Prodigy” reference. He didn’t look familiar - Violet suspected he was new - thus he wasn’t aware of her presence here everyday at this time. She gave him a quick smile, which he returned, twinged with embarrassment. When the next monorail arrived she was almost relieved, and stepped into the car to enjoy the solitude that she could enjoy only at select times of the day.
How the majority of Walt Disney World employees had come to know of her existence here at the park was still a mystery to her after nearly six years. Disney could boast an amazing 55,000 employees total here in Orlando, and it seemed very few could claim to be ignorant of just who “the Prodigy” was, or the story behind her. Violet Pennington, currently age 23 (and six months), was officially the youngest animator ever hired in Disney history, beating the previous record-holder (Fred Moore, hired by Walt Disney himself), by almost half a year. At the very midpoint between her seventeenth and eighteenth birthdays, Violet had been visited by three of Disney’s top animators at her home in Kissimmee, Florida. She had yet to even graduate high school, yet there she was, being solicited by some of the biggest names in animation. Her artwork was already renown the nation over, and it had seeped into the most elite studio in the world. Violet was blown away, not to mention thrilled - she had planned to apply to the Orlando Disney animation studio upon graduating from college. Knowing that up to 1,500 portfolios were received for every one opening at Disney only served to ice the proverbial cake. Her parents had been hesitant, but once the animators had promised Violet would immediately be working with head animators (as opposed to “serving time” as an in-betweener or clean-up artist), turning the offer down was simply not an option.
And so it happened that Disney hired its first ghost animator. Violet sat in on every story meeting, sketching and resketching characters as the artists tossed around ideas for up-and-coming projects. She had the innate ability to read between the lines and come up with rough cuts of characters that otherwise would’ve taken weeks to develop. She solidified thoughts and ideas into real people (and other beings), giving them flourishes when needed. She didn’t disappoint.
She also never appeared in the credits for any of the films she had helped to make.
Violet rather liked being anonymous. She wasn’t an artist for the accolades, she was an artist for the sheer sake of creating. And while it was true that the rest of the world didn’t know of her work behind the scenes, on site she was Disney royalty. Too precious an asset to lose, Disney made sure that whatever Violet wanted and needed she received. She was accompanied or chauffered almost everywhere she went, save her home. She never paid for a meal anywhere on the premises, and Disney paid for her housing - a lovely apartment located deep in the heart of Disney territory. Ghost writers may be a dime a dozen, but ghost animators are not, and Violet could not claim she had received anything but the best treatment while being one.
The ghost portion of her title, though, was about to be dropped, as Violet was finally being given the opportunity to develop her very own character in Disney’s latest animated picture, “Beans”, a retelling of the classic tale of Jack and the beanstalk. And it was not just any character that she was working on, but Jack himself. She was poring her heart and soul into the project, for it would be her name that would forever be linked with Jack’s. She smiled to herself as the monorail sped along. ’You’ve come a long way, baby,’ she silently mused.
As the monorail pulled to a halt at the EPCOT platform, her thoughts returned to her reason for park-hopping. Yet another club car awaited her and she gave a smile to the familiar driver. “Hello, Louie,” she greeted as she joined him. “I thought you were off Sundays?”
“Usually,” the large man replied as they pulled away, “but I’m savin’ up for my anniversary next month.” Violet’s smile widened.
“That’s wonderful!”
Louie shrugged self-consciously, smiling. “You excited for the show?”
Violet nodded. “Sure, it’s a great show.” Louie glanced over at her and smiled.
“I’ll bet it is.” It was then Violet’s turn to be self-conscious. It was not a secret why she attended the same performance day after day. In the America Gardens Theater, the touring company for the Broadway sensation Blast performed a twenty-minute show featuring excerpts from the actual show. A month earlier, in the attempt to stay abreast of the feel of Disney, the animation team took in the first performance. Violet had been more than impressed with the precision required to perform in such an intricate and demanding show. She’d been particularly taken by a certain percussionist, the spitting image of a young Christian Bale with his dark wavy hair, deep brown eyes and infectious smile. His enthusiasm and joy were palpable, and in him she found her muse for Jack. After the show the percussionists mingled in the main walkway and met with EPCOT guests. Violet had made her way directly over to him and stuck out her hand.
“You were wonderful,” she said in greeting. He looked taken aback as that smile again lit up his features.
“W-well thank you,” he stammered, taking her hand. “I’m Tyler.”
“Violet. I hope you don’t mind my saying you were one of the highlights of the show.” It was a comment that, uttered by any other, could very well have been interpreted as flirtatious. However, from Violet it came across as simple fact, and Tyler found himself again fumbling for words. The two talked a few minutes more, with Violet assuring him she would be at the performance the next night at the same time. True to her word, Violet attended the next 7:10 performance, and in fact almost every 7:10 performance since.
She could only use studying Tyler for reference as an excuse for so long, because eventually it became clear that the ritual was the highlight of at least one of the pair’s days, if not both. Violet had grudgingly admitted to herself a week ago that she had no further rational reason for repeatedly seeing the show, and Tyler had gladly admitted to himself the night he’d met Violet that he was completely smitten with her, and his adoration was written all over his face each night he spotted her in the audience.
That night Violet ran a little late, and so made it just in time to take a seat as the lone snare drum player began playing the staccato beats of Ravel’s Bolero. The twenty minutes flew by and Violet made her regular search for where Tyler stood, greeting well-wishers. To be honest, Violet enjoyed watching him with guests almost as much as she enjoyed watching him play. He had his own set of “groupies” who would come to the show night after night, and the way in which he greeted them each and every time was endearing. Finally the crowds dissipated and Violet approached him, smiling at the way he lit up upon spotting her. He placed a quick kiss on her cheek and took her hand, leading her over to a now empty bench inside the theater.
“How are you? How was your day?” he asked eagerly.
Violet laughed. “Fine, fine as usual, and yours?”
“The end is always the best part of the day,” he chanced, squeezing her hand lightly. Violet nodded. He was always hesitant to share how he truly felt about Violet, mostly because he was truly uncertain as to how she actually felt. She had an aura of distance about her that made her a difficult person to read but an intriguing one, to say the least. Violet carried herself - albeit completely unconsciously - in a manner that never failed to draw attention. Heads always turned when she walked by, although if one were to quiz those that watched her it would be highly unlikely that they would remember quite what she looked like or why they had looked. She wore her quiet elegance like a second skin, and many came away from her feeling somehow honored that she had held them in her graces. Tyler was one of her loyal subjects - he always felt reduced to a nervous teenager around her and found that after she left his group made him the butt of many a joke about such anxiety. He didn’t care - the fact alone that she kept coming, and coming to see him alone, was more than enough compensation.
The two talked quietly, and finally Violet decided to share her big news with him. “Well, I have some great news, some good news and some bad news for you,” she announced.
“OK, wow, um, let’s hear the bad news first.”
“The bad news is that Disney’s holding the majority of vocal auditions for Jack out in L.A.”
Tyler knew of his influence for the character. “Oh, OK.”
“The good news is that not only do I get to have major say in who gets the part, I get to fly out and watch the auditions - tomorrow!”
How not seeing her for a day could be good news for him was not apparent to Tyler, but he smiled anyway. “Wow, Violet, congratulations,” he offered warmly.
“Thank you. Now for the best part - I got you an audition!”
Tyler was stunned. “Really?”
“Really. It only makes sense that my inspiration should be what sets my character to life,” she told him, smiling gently. Tyler enthusiastically hugged her.
“That’s incredible, thank you!”
“No problem,” she laughed. “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem to get you the part either...as long as you still want it?”
“Of course! It’d be an honor.”
“Well, you know you have my vote.” Violet stood and Tyler followed suit. “On that note I should go, I have to take a red eye out in the morning.”
Tyler pouted slightly. “I’ll miss you,” he said softly. Violet leaned in and kissed him gently.
“It’s mutual.”
Tyler was flustered - it was one of her first initiatives at affection. “Call my room when you get in, just so I know you’re OK?” he requested. Violet smiled and nodded.
“Of course.” She sauntered off, gracing him with one last smile as she did and allowing her thoughts to wander to the next day. It would be an important one, and she needed to be ready - although she couldn‘t help but categorize it as a show. Jack was her character, she wanted Tyler as his voice, what good did other auditions do?
Chapter 2
