Disneyland had a record number of visitors on the day after the rainstorm. Everyone that had planned to go on the rainy day, went the next day, including us. When the park closed at around midnight, the family regrouped on Main Street and headed out. Above the exit there was a giant sign counting down the number of people in the park. I don’t know if the counter was always there or if it was just there for the record-breaking day. It was connected to the revolving door-style turnstiles at the exit; and with each turnstile rotation, the number on the board decreased by one. My brother, Chris, quickly assessed the situation and said, “If we go through at the same time, we’ll mess up their count.” So I squeezed into one of the turnstile wedges with him and we went through together. On the long walk to the van, I imagined the confusion at Disneyland when they saw that everyone was gone, but the counter still read 1. They would think that somebody was hiding out somewhere in Disneyland. They would have to put together a manhunt. Probably the first place they’d look would be Tom Sawyer Island, because that would be the best hiding place.