How Splendid Is the Night

Intro to the Story: In 2011, I was living in Nanjing, China teaching English as a Second Language to children. Around mid-June of that year, a couple of my friends and I were in the process of creating a writing group. This group unfortunately didn’t come to pass, but it was a grand idea after celebrating “Bloomsday” together, reading sections from James Joyce’s “Ulysses” at a local Expat Irish pub. I came home and wrote this story before going off to teach at the ESL center I was working at in the center of the city. What I didn’t know was that my Grampi back in southern California had died several hours before. I found out the news later while viewing emails at work, and had to be accompanied back to my apartment by a few of my closest friends who stayed with me for a couple of hours to make sure I was doing alright. I had been thinking about him all that week, as he had been in hospice care and my parents had kept me informed of his unfortunate decline in health. This story thus materialized as an amalgamation of many happy memories, and of the years he and I had spent together at Disneyland in the sunny youth of my childhood. And so, dear friends, this story is dedicated in loving memory to Alfred Audet, my Grampi.

The sun blazed high, smiling down on all of us gathering and crowding around the flagpole set in the center of the square. Within their little gated communities, the flowers sprung up and sat amongst their leafy green beds to see what was going on around them. A flapping noise soon drew our attention. Up on high, the great symbol of the nation started its stately descent down the pole and into the hands of two well-clad gents, one in a fine suit of navy blue, the other all in snowy white; both were bedecked in glittering medallions. Our ears perked up to the strains of a familiar tune in bold instrumental fashion, drums beating and brass blaring out— “what so proud-ly we hail.” CRASH! The cymbals knew their cue.

We stood away from the crowd, Grampi and me, watching everyone take part in this massive ritual of inertia, all hands pounding over our hearts. And then it was over, leaving an empty staff raised up to the heavens where the red, white, and blue banner had once been unfurled. We walked resolutely down the decorated street, reminiscent of a time neither Grampi or I had been born into, with its false façade of white lattice-laced features and curtains adorning every upstairs window. In the distance, the turrets of a grand fairy-tale castle towered over the trees, set against the pallet of a forever blue sky. This enchanting structure beckoned the masses with thoughts of unfulfilled dreams and wishes yet to be awakened from their darkest slumbers. It was all befitting for the abode of “Sleeping Beauty.”

And so, another day of bliss had come to an end at “The Happiest Place on Earth”, that is known the world over as Disneyland. Hand and hand, Grampi and me had trailed through this vast and magical kingdom, from jungle bazaars and Wild West towns, to alpine villages and fanciful visions of tomorrow. One minute we were face to face asking Snow White for her autograph, and the next soaring over the miniature streetlamps of a Lilliputian London with the elfish Peter Pan and Tinkerbell in tow. I sang along with pirates as our boat streamed down a waterfall to Caribbean lands below and closed my eyes in an attempt to ward off phantoms that haunted the mansion at the border of New Orleans Square and Critter Country. Worlds within one world brought delight around every corner.   

            Long before the sun had set, we found ourselves outside the immense gates bidding adieu to the day and welcoming the approaching night. Grampi suddenly informed me that we would be back, that night in fact, for a new type of magic would slowly overtake the park that we would not want to miss. Hurriedly the car sped back to our home where Grammi was prepping for a sumptuous meal of spaghetti and garlic bread. I then heard the garage door close and in walked Mommy, coming home after a long day of cleaning teeth and seeing people older than eighty-five. I knew what to do instantly. I sprawled out on the living room couch and attempted to find myself in slumberland, thinking of what changes Disneyland would present to us that very night.

            After gobbling up my dinner, Grampi and I hopped back into the car only to appear, what seemed seconds later, at the mighty threshold to the park again. Night was slow in coming, its shadows creeping out from every building to merge as one, along the length and breadth of Main Street, U.S.A. The old-fashioned street lamps came to life and the flashing light bulbs set ablaze spelling out the names of each shop in this imagined turn-of-the-twentieth-century town. The smell of sugar candy sweets, the lively sounds of a honky-tonk piano, and the feel of old time Americana, all “stars and stripes” for everyone, flooded my senses. The air was full of electric summertime energy.

            We spotted an empty place along the street pavement and huddled next to the millions of tourists talking loudly amongst themselves and their loved ones. The electricity of the storefronts only brought further illumination to the evening as our hearts paced rapidly, all eyes casting about and wondering what was heading our way. At length, the sun disappeared and left us all under the soft mantle of a pleasantly warm So Cal evening.

            Vendors trickled out showing off their wares of bright star wands, spinning globes and neon-lit necklaces. One of these artifacts caught my eye and I begged and shook Grampi’s pant legs asking him to buy it for me. We walked up to one goodly gentleman and a deal was made. In my hands appeared a device beyond measure, a water globe full of many silvery shimmering pieces, with a Sorcerer Mickey Mouse on top in his star-studded cap directing the cosmos. At the touch of a switch, the globe sputtered to life. At each shake a metamorphosis took place of red, yellow, green and blue with the stars inside on fire! My eyes lit up at each new revolution.

            Suddenly, a loud fanfare burst out into the night promising electronic dreams and good deeds ahead. I looked up to see where it was coming from but could not find the source. A robotic voice welcomed us all to this “festival pageant of night-time imagination.” Then all at once the lights vanished back into the darkness, whence they came, and the “Main Street Electrical Parade” commenced!

            Thousands of tiny rainbows, every color, shape, and size imaginable strutted and glowed and manifested themselves before my eyes, dancing to the rhythm of invisible musicians. Many of my Disney friends soon appeared including Mickey, Minnie and Goofy, all covered in hundreds of button-sized lights. They acted as mascots for the night, behind the magnificently flowing train of the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio, her wings unfurled like those of a gossamer butterfly. With each passing float, accompanied by its own hidden symphony, an array of stories unfolded of princesses escaping decadent balls in pumpkin coaches, crooked pirates fighting perpetually immortal boys, cute elephants making friends with colorful clowns, and young boys sporting donkey ears followed by a little wooden puppet gone astray in a strange carnival world. Alice in her Wonderland sat atop an enormous glowing mushroom as her many twinkling friends went twirling and whirling around her in an eternal dance of glee. Here lions played the calliope, elephants winked, dwarves sang in gem-studded mine shafts and boys, if they were lucky enough to befriend a dragon, were seen riding atop a large scaly-green back.

            Each new spectacle spun its way down the serpentine street and we in turn saluted the merry group of travelers with our own set of glimmering lights. How I wished I could join this fairy band, forever and always surrounded by a kaleidoscope each night of my life, without fear of the imposing night around me. So much in a state of pure joy that I would not even think of the far away would-be treasures that growing up would bring. For a child, time is meaningless for it is endless.  

            Then at last it was time for the grand finale. My eyes popped when I saw this new vision before me. For the great flag, which flew astride the pole earlier today, was now a bright float of its own, brought to life with so many lights and cotton candy bursts of fireworks. The largest float I had ever seen, dedicated to America as patriotic tunes such as “You’re a Grand Old Flag” and “Yankee Doodle” resounded throughout the crowd. The immense electric flag was flanked on either side by rows of beautiful women dressed as daughters and nieces of Uncle Sam with hats, vests and shorts all in regal American colors. The music at length merged into the electronic melody that heralded the arrival of this parade of light. Then the bubble burst. The street lamps switched back on. And the beautiful spectacle was over.

            Just as one stage closed its curtains, the sky opened up to reveal the stars bursting out and raining down from the heavens. I covered my ears to block the thunder of the skylights but with my eyes open to it all. New colors, new rainbows shot up like so many rockets only to explode upon meeting the sky, lighting up the near-distant shadow of Sleeping Beauty Castle. With Tinkerbell’s appearance, she summoned forth more fires blazing higher into the sky, only to leave fragments of clouds suspended in mid-flight once the show had run its course.

            With heavy head and half-shut eyelids, I hobbled along, holding Grampi’s warm hand, slogging along with the rest of the masses back out of the gates and into our cars. Visions of storybook characters in their sparkly star gowns and tailcoats filled my thoughts on the long journey back home.

            Grammi and Mommy were still wide awake and ready to slip me into comfy pjs and under warm covers, helping me to drift me off to sleep after flipping through the pages of our favorite book saying Goodnight to the Moon. After a few yawns, I kissed Grammi, Grampi, and Mommy goodnight too. Then as sleep overtook me, I dreamed about the wonderful day and the most wonderful night I would never forget. And through it all, Grampi remained forever at my side.

Even today, years later, when I hear the strains of that blissful parade, I still tear up. For somewhere, amongst the stars, Grampi is forever smiling with me and thinking, oh how splendid is the night.