It All Started...

by David W. Smith

  Walt was silent for as long as it took for it all to sink in. He watched as the stunned confusion on the young man’s face gave way to comprehension and acceptance. As the blond-headed man turned back a few pages, he silently ran his finger along a diagram, then advanced to a different page and nodded. Walt knew he had chosen well. The man next to him was as fastidious and meticulous as he himself was. The green eyes that turned from the blueprints back to Walt were wide with excitement. “This is amazing. You’ve thought of everything.”

  “I always try to.” Walt had a sly, knowing smile that creased his face. “I always try to.”

  Now, years later, parts of those blueprints were spread out on the large black oak dining room table, softly illuminated by open floor-to-ceiling windows and a large crystal chandelier that hung overhead. The blueprints that had specifically pertained to the alterations of his house had already been utilized and hidden away. Now it was time for the secondary, the most crucial part of the design, to come into play. He glanced over at the black diary and the manila folder he had secreted from Walt’s hospital room. Both were now waiting on the matching sideboard against the wall.

  For a moment, a small smile creased his face. Looking at the little black diary for a moment, he tried to imagine how the few pages within would someday drastically change someone’s life. He knew the book would eventually have a similar effect as that of a treasure map. Only its effects would have much more of a far-reaching consequence.

  The man knew the book would likewise preserve the legacy of the man he had come to love like a father. The thought of the approaching loss of Walt from his life caused his momentary smile to waver.

  When he had first arrived home from the hospital, his wife had met him at the door. No words had been needed. Her silent question had been answered by the sorrow she could see in his eyes. He had taken her in his arms for a much-needed embrace. “We knew it was coming.” His words were soft as she began to cry and he gave her gentle kiss on her forehead. “But, it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”

  Her distress made it difficult for him. There’s too much to do right now, he reminded himself. He tried to hide the emotion in his voice as he made his first call. There was only one thing he had to say to every person on his short, but important, list. Grief would have to be set aside. Shock would have to be set aside. They all knew what they had to do.

  “It all started.” With muted reverence in his voice, the first person on the list was alerted. Determined, he hung up and started to dial the next number.

  Lance stared at the gun pointed at him. How ironic, flashed through his mind. He had held a similar weapon against his friends not so very long ago. The moment of surprise passed for Lance and his mind again began to function. He looked from the gun to the panel of buttons and switches. Curled around the yellowed paper in his hand, his fingers began to make it crinkle. Slowly, so it wouldn’t be observed, he put his hand into his pocket, the message now hidden from view. The stunned surprise he had experienced gave way to questions. Did this blond-haired man know about the final clue? Had he somehow followed Lance from New Orleans Square into the chamber? Would he try and take this amazing discovery for himself? Am I going to be left in the lurch again?

  As the questions continued to bombard his mind, Lance found himself becoming strangely calm. And in this calmness, he found his anger again. Anger at his own actions. Anger at Adam and Beth for taking the treasure. Anger at this unknown man for causing him to be thwarted yet again.

  The mysterious man’s eyes went from being confident to being wary as he saw the change come over Lance’s handsome face. He had expected the sight of the gun to stop the discoverer in his tracks. He had expected someone who would do as he said. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Step away from the instrument panel.” The intimidating barrel of the Magnum was used to motion for Lance to move.

  The dim lighting caught on the shiny surface of the gun. Lance’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to it. But his response was not what the blond-haired man expected when he saw Lance’s eyes narrow in indignation and his lips become a firm, narrow line.

  When he realized Lance had not moved away as he had been instructed, and knew what would come, the blond-haired man tried one last time to warn him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Lance, though, was beyond warnings. The idea of coming so far and being stopped again was too much for him. Without another thought, he twirled back to the console and, with a resolute fist, punched the lone black button.

  At Big Thunder Mountain, a high-speed roller coaster designed to look like a runaway mining train, Lance’s security guard partner, Mani Wolford, or more commonly called Wolf, had just broken up a fist fight between two teenagers. Their argument was over who would accompany their companion, an eighteen-year-old girl, home now that the Park was closed. Heavy into their fight, they hadn’t noticed she had walked off with the costumed cast member who had just finished his shift on the ride.

  Hauling the angry, panting youths to the front gate, Wolf warned them that if they decided to continue their juvenile tirade on Disney property, they would be escorted home in the back of an Anaheim Police Department Cruiser.

  Once he was sure they were on their way out of the property, Wolf returned to his last patrol through New Orleans Square. When he didn’t find Lance waiting for him, Wolf resumed his sweep, covering the same ground Lance had gone over an hour before. His intense blue eyes took in every detail as he looked into every nook and cranny for guests who hoped to be overlooked and gain the dubious bragging rights that they had spent the night in the Magic Kingdom.

  Finding no one, Wolf pulled his walkie-talkie from his belt clip and called for Lance. “P-1 to P-3. P-1 to P-3.” Surprised he couldn’t get Lance on their security channel, he repeated the call, then shrugged and put the device back on his belt. As he strode past the entrance to Pirates of the Caribbean, he instinctively looked toward the underside of the bridge that took guests over the Pirates queue area and transitioned them from Adventureland into New Orleans Square. He flashed his light in one dark corner and turned to leave. He then noticed the Cast Member Only door off to the left, under the stairs that lead up to the Disney Gallery’s Collector Room. It was slightly ajar. Not too unusual this time of night, he thought, as cleaning crews would soon enter from there to start their work. Still, he felt he needed to check it out.

  Pushing the door fully open, he stepped from the ornate wrought ironwork of New Orleans Square into the white, unadorned utility corridor of the cast members’ backstage world. This was different than the corridors found throughout Disneyland’s younger, larger sister park in Florida. There, an abundance of underground corridors allowed a costumed cast member of one Land, say Tomorrowland, to travel unseen by the public to another part of the Park without disrupting the look and feel of a different land. Here, in Disneyland, there was only this one large corridor that led down into the lower levels of the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction. Inside, Wolf was dwarfed by this corridor as it was large enough for trucks to make deliveries. There was a cast member restaurant located at the end of this corridor, as well as areas that were used for storage for various retail shops located above, inside New Orleans Square.

  Wolf stood still for a moment after the door clicked shut to let his keen hearing do his work for him. He could see numerous doors on the right that lead to different parts of the Pirate ride. Further down, to the left, was an opening that led to the back of the Jungle Cruise that served as safety exits in case the guests needed to be escorted safely off the attraction. He could hear no movement anywhere in the corridor or from the Jungle Cruise backstage areas.

  Satisfied no one had snuck into that corridor, he returned to the walkway between Pirates and Tarzan’s Treehouse. Making sure the door was firmly shut behind him, he made his way back through the silent Adventureland, nodding a brief hello to Anne, the Lead cast member of the Jungle Cruise who had filed her last report and was headed
to the lockers and home. Wolf fell into step with Anne as she walked toward Main Street.

  “Hey, Anne, have you seen Lance Brentwood?” He knew Anne, like many of the other female cast members, never missed Lance if he was in their vicinity. His good looks and easy-going personality was a magnet for most of the ladies who worked at—or visited—the Park.

  “I wish.” Anne knew he was partners with Lance on most closing nights. “Wolf, if you see him, let him know I’m still waiting for that phone call.”

  “I’ll be sure to warn him…I mean, tell him.”

  Grinning, Anne slapped him on the shoulder as they walked out of Adventureland and onto Main Street U.S.A.

  As a small, hidden door on the panel flipped open, Lance turned back to the blond-haired man with a smile of triumph. His confidence faltered when he saw the reaction of the other man.

  The gun was lowered as the blond-haired man rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I wish you hadn’t done that.” With an audible sigh, he stepped back into the dark corner from which he had emerged.

  “Why not?” Lance tried to peer into the darkness. “Answer me! Why not?”

  Before there could be a reply, a thick cloud of blue gas sprayed out from a nozzle behind the hidden door. In vain Lance tried to wave it off as he backed away from the odorless gas. Within seconds the spray stopped, but it was too late for Lance. His eyes rolled back in his head and he silently dropped to the floor like a rag doll.

  It only took moments for the blue cloud to dissipate. Counting to a slow ten, the blond-haired man stepped back into the cavern. The air was now safe, and he pocketed the handkerchief he had placed over his nose and walked up to the inert Lance. He gently nudged Lance with the toe of his shoe. Disgusted, he slowly shook his head side to side as he answered Lance’s final question. “Because I now have to carry you out of here and I really don’t feel up to it tonight.”

  He stepped around to Lance’s shoulders and bent down to give an experimental tug. “It would have to be the tall one. Why couldn’t it have been the girl? She looked a lot lighter.” He eyed the distance to the hidden door across the chamber from Lance’s entry point, and gave a sigh. Better get to it, he told himself, the door won’t get any closer.

  Just as he reached under Lance’s shoulders, a voice came from Lance’s belt. “P-1 to P-3.”

  Aware that people would now be looking for Lance, a surge of adrenaline pushed him to move faster.

  Groaning and straining, the blond-haired man managed to get Lance out of the chamber and into a different white corridor than the one Wolf had just patrolled. A lone key was pulled out of his pocket and the door securely locked behind him. Leaning against the door marked ‘No Admittance’ in order to rest his laboring heart, the man pulled out a cell phone. “Daniel, meet me at the junction. I need your help.”

  His hands barely shook as he put his phone back in his jacket pocket. Knowing his symptoms, he now pulled a little metal canister out of his pocket and unscrewed the cap. Placing one white pill under his tongue, he waited a minute for it to dissolve.

  I’m too old for this nonsense. With a determined effort, he grunted as he again hefted Lance’s shoulders, and backed down the silent, unused corridor.

  Beth Roberts was happy today, almost giddy. She was back at work at Disneyland. It had been five years since her abrupt leaving—she refused to refer to it as a ‘firing’ no matter what the official record said. She was back with Adam rebuilding their relationship. She and Adam had made an incredible discovery not far from where she currently worked on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Adam was busy as he sorted through the ramifications of their discovery, set up scholarships for the elementary school in Marceline, Missouri, and continued as a General Contractor and Developer.

  She had picked Pirates as her first assignment once Disneyland accepted Adam’s and her offer. Disneyland would be able to display some of the rarer and historically fascinating items that had been found along the way in their Hidden Mickey quest in exchange for her getting to work any of the rides she wanted. The first bronze nametag—presumably worn by Walt Disney himself after the Park opened, the matching Mickey Mouse watches from the 1930’s, four never-before-seen animation cels from Snow White, an original Opening Day ticket to Disneyland, and some of the handwritten notes from Walt were all on display in the Opera House alongside the set-up of Walt’s office from the Burbank Studio. Only she and Adam knew that the animation cels had been hidden inside Walt’s desk in that same display. How she and Adam came to possess such items was never accurately disclosed. They told anyone who asked that it had all been left to Beth by a beloved Uncle.

  Beth had smiled when she entered the Wardrobe Department the first time to pick up what she would be wearing. The official costume the cast members wore wasn’t too different from what she had purchased at a costume store back when she, Adam and Lance realized they would have to jump from one of the boats within the ride to continue the quest the diary had begun. It just felt better to be in a ‘real’ one, she thought to herself as she had laced up the low-cut bodice.

  She often thought of Lance, especially here in Pirates. Her cheery disposition and kind heart refused to turn against him. Yes, he had stuck a gun in their faces and demanded the final treasure for himself. But, she just couldn’t bring herself to believe he would’ve actually shot them. That wasn’t her Lance. She couldn’t talk to Adam about it and that really bothered her. Adam’s heart had grown cold when his best friend pulled the gun and fired the first shot that had narrowly missed them. He hadn’t forgotten and he hadn’t forgiven. Beth didn’t know if he ever would. So far, Beth hadn’t run into Lance since she started working at Disneyland. She wasn’t entirely sure he was still a security guard since she hadn’t had time since her orientation training at the Disneyland University to ask anyone about his whereabouts. Aware of Lance’s financial problems, Beth knew he had to work somewhere. And, there was no reason to believe he would quit his job at the Park.

  Beth stifled another sigh as she helped load guests in their boat for their trip through the world of Pirates. She had just gotten used to having Lance and Adam back in her life after Adam had broken up with her five years earlier and broken her heart. While she was ecstatic that Adam was back in her life and heart, her tall, easy-going verbal sparring partner was gone.

  While in love with Adam, it was Lance with whom she shared a deep friendship. She missed having him call her Captain Obvious or Shrew. She missed having him show up randomly at her apartment, raid her refrigerator, and then throw his six-foot-two length on her small sofa for a nap. She even missed his fun and not-so-subtle flirting, saying he would treat her like the ‘pampered queen’ he often called her if she would only leave Adam. Though she had never felt a romantic attraction for Lance and the simple fact she had always loved Adam—even when she hated him—Beth really missed Lance’s character. She always felt comfortable around Lance. She smiled at the memories as the next boat pulled into the loading dock.

  Yes, she missed her friend and hoped for all their sakes that he was able to work out his personal demons.

  Toward the end of her shift, Beth was surprised by the appearance of a tall security guard who had come in through the exit of the popular ride. He stood quietly in the little-used second exit gate out of the feeble light of the lanterns that bathed the dock in flickering shadows. Because of the darkness of the interior, she couldn’t clearly see who it was. She felt her heart skip a beat. Lance? Since she was on the opposite side of the boat flume and loading dock of Lafitte’s Landing, she could only keep doing her job and wait.

  Her suspense was short-lived. Matt, the cast member helping guests disembark, went over to see what the visitor needed. The security guard pointed at Beth. After a brief conversation and after the two fully-loaded boats were whisked along the conveyor belts toward the ride’s interior, Matt called Beth over. Beth turned to her loading partner, Kirk, and asked if he could load her side of the dock for a moment. While it
was a challenge to fill two five-row boats simultaneously, Kirk just smiled. “Sure, take your time.”

  After the next two boats came to their abrupt stop and the guests filed off, Beth stepped on the texture-coated bow of the empty boat and crossed to the exit side of the dock. As she got nearer, she was disappointed to see it wasn’t Lance. She wasn’t sure who this man was. She had seen him around the Park, but, like the so many of the other nine-thousand employees that worked in the Magic Kingdom, she hadn’t had the opportunity to officially meet him.

  The nametag on his uniform said ‘Wolf’. Instantly intrigued, Beth knew Wolf was a favorite topic backstage amongst the female cast members—almost as popular as the name of Lance. But where Lance was outgoing and friendly, Wolf was more of a mystery. None of the women really knew anything about him. And that captivated them, drawing them to want to learn more—and see more—about the tall, dark-haired cast member. Beth remembered seeing him during the staff Canoe Races earlier that summer where he paddled on a men’s team, his wet shirt plastered to his muscular body. In that moment Beth had seen another reason why so many female workers had an interest in Wolf.

  And now, he had just sought out Beth.

  She felt the scrutiny of his sharp blue eyes even before she reached where he was standing. He was analyzing her. But not as a man might size up a woman in whom he was interested. No, this was different.