Wolf seemed mildly intrigued by the clue Colombia and the handwritten note. He seemed more enthusiastic—if anyone could call Wolf enthusiastic about anything—when Lance asked him to join him on a trip to the South American country. It was that Colombia that Walt alluded to.
At least that was what Lance was hoped Walt alluded to.
Lance and Wolf were glad they didn’t have to follow Walt’s entire trip to South America to find what they needed. From their research, they knew Walt’s trip had been exhausting. Argentina, Chile, Peru, Ecuador, the Panama Canal. The trip had been fruitful, though. Not only was it a successful goodwill tour, two films, Saludos Amigos and Three Caballeros, were a result of the trip, and each of them earned attention from the Academy Awards.
After changing planes in Houston at 10:00 p.m., their fourteen hour flight neared its end. As they flew over the Pacific Ocean to make their approach inland, they were impressed by the beauty of both the coastline and the inner land in the brilliant early morning light. The sparkling blue of the water turned into vivid greens of the mountainous areas. It was no wonder why Columbia was renowned as one of the most beautiful countries in the world.
A large country with a population of almost forty-three million people, Columbia bordered Brazil, Venezuela, Panama, Peru and Ecuador. In his research, Lance had learned that in the early 1500’s, Columbia had been invaded by the Spanish who found a wealth of gold buried in its fertile ground. Increased taxation by Spain to fund its wars finally led to uprising and revolt. But it wasn’t until 1819 that Simon Bolivar and his armies finally defeated the Spanish and formed the independent Republic of Gran, which included Columbia, Panama, Venezuela and Ecuador. Early in the twentieth century, all the partners withdrew from the association and Columbia was on its own in 1905. Intrigued by the gold discovery, Lance wondered what they would discover at their trail’s end.
After all the experience he had gained during his extensive journeys with Beth and Adam, Lance made the necessary plans for this excursion. Settled back in his seat, Wolf’s stoic face showed neither boredom nor excitement. He had done plenty of traveling himself and would judge matters as they arose. He did have a question for Lance he had forgotten to ask.
“Lance? Tell me….” He broke off when he saw that both of the flight attendants again hovered around their seats and Lance’s attention was diverted. Some of the interest was being directed his way, but he ignored it in his usual manner. At different times during this all-night flight, he had privately wondered just how many blankets, pillows, snack bags, ear phones, and drinks Lance could handle. When Lance was handed a third drink and the attendants finally remembered there were other passengers onboard to attend, Wolf took the cocktail away from him, downed it in one gulp, crushed the plastic cup, and set it back on Lance’s tray table. At the amused look on Lance’s face, Wolf felt he had to give some sort of explanation. “It’s only 5 a.m. We don’t need you tipsy.”
“’Tipsy’?” Lance let out a good-natured laugh. “I didn’t think you’d even know that word, let alone use it!” He waved off Wolf’s concern. “I know, I know. The girls are just being friendly. What was the drink this time? The last one was a Cosmo.”
“No idea. I didn’t even taste it. I wanted to ask you something. What was the Hidden Mickey reference in the clue you showed me? Something about it being the first one? I never did hear the explanation of that.”
Lance glanced around to see where the flight attendants were and to check the surrounding passengers. Most of the other passengers were either reading or were asleep. Pretty sure he wouldn’t be overheard, he still lowered his voice before he answered. “Can you hear me if I talk like this?”
Wolf didn’t show his amusement. If you were whispering from the front of the plane, I could still hear you. “Yes, I can hear you fine,” he said out loud to Lance.
“Okay, good. I just didn’t want anyone else to hear. Anyway, when we first read Walt’s diary, he said he would be sending us on a search for Hidden Mickeys. We, of course, thought he meant the ones like you find hidden around Disneyland—you know, the three circles that make up Mickey’s head?”
Wolf nodded. He was used to being stopped while on duty at Disneyland and asked if he knew where this or that Hidden Mickey was located. He had finally had to memorize a few just to make the guests happy.
Lance continued. “We quickly found this was just a metaphor for everything he had hidden. Some of the prizes he had left behind really were Mickey something-or-others. Most were not. So, I wasn’t sure if this part of the clue would turn out to be an actual Mickey or not. Turns out it was.” Warming up to the subject, Lance turned sideways in his seat to face Wolf. “I found it in only one of those reference books you saw piled on my table. It was one of the main reasons I knew which Columbia Walt meant. The first time a hidden mickey appeared in a film was in the 1945 animated short film called Cold Blooded Penguin. It was a part of the film Three Caballeros. There was even a picture of that scene in the book I had. Mickey is painted on a sand pail belonging to Pablo the Penguin, who is the star of that film.”
Wolf just nodded again when Lance finished. He had always been impressed by how thorough and detail-oriented Walt was, how one idea of his could be taken and grown and developed into a lasting phenomenon.
They were both silent as the plane began its descent toward the airport, lost in their own thoughts.
Once they had landed, they had a connecting flight to a nearby coastal village. Their spacious jumbo jet was replaced by a small ten-seat commuter/cargo plane. The helpful and attentive flight attendants were replaced by Wolf who now found he needed to stow both of their bags. As it jockeyed for position on the runway, their small plane was dwarfed by its larger cousins. After three jarring bounces, they were once again airborne and heading back toward the coast at a much lower elevation. They crossed a few rivers and wondered which one they would be taking in a few hours.
As soon as they landed and cleared a rather relaxed Customs, Lance came across his first obstacle: He didn’t speak the language. He had become complacent in the former travels as English was all that had been needed. Now in a small town away from the commercial and tourist centers of the bigger cities, he was faced with a string of local taxi drivers who had no idea where the harbor was that held their reserved boat. Repeating the name slowly didn’t help any more than showing them his itinerary. After watching Lance and the driver getting more and more frustrated, an amused Wolf stepped in and easily gave directions. Both Lance and the taxi driver were visibly relieved as their luggage was thrown into the trunk and they settled into the back of the cab.
“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” In a cloud of dust, the taxi sped off from the airport clearing.
Wolf gave a small smile as he looked out the window. “You never asked.”
Used to the quiet moods of his Security partner, Lance merely grinned. “True. Anything else I should know that might come in helpful?”
Wolf pretended to be deep in thought. “I can also speak Lakota, French, some Italian, and can start a fire with two sticks and a piece of string. Is any of that helpful?”
“Seeing how remote this area is, the fire might come in useful. Lakota? What’s that?”
“My people. I am Lakota.”
Lance grabbed the armrest of the car as the driver made a sharp turn, seemingly on two wheels. “That would explain the fire thing then.”
Wolf just smiled and made no further comment.
Moments later the cab came to a screeching halt in front of a small marina. Some of the signs were in English and grandly proclaimed “Tropical Jungle Excursions” and “See the Amazon.” From his research, Lance knew the slow-moving river in front of them was nowhere near the actual Amazon River, but it was considered a tributary of it. Wolf was in a deep discussion with the taxi driver over the exact amount of the fare. The driver apparently had forgotten that the dark one spoke Spanish. The two men came to a reluctant, but almost mutual, agreement. Lance wondered wha
t exactly Wolf had said to the man as the driver muttered something that sounded rather unpleasant under his breath during the time he tossed their bags onto the pavement, slammed the trunk of his cab, and sped off again.
“Wolf, what did he just say?”
“’Have a nice trip’,” was Wolf’s steady response.
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Really? I didn’t get that from his body language.”
“I didn’t think it was necessary to add where he thought our trip should go….”
Lance broke out in a wide, easy grin. “Yeah, I kind of thought that was the case. See if you can find…” he broke off to consult his travel itinerary, “a Jorge. He is our skipper into the wilds of the beautiful tropical jungle, as it said in their brochure online.”
Wolf gave a noncommittal grunt and quickly found their guide and their manner of transport. Both men stood on the dock a moment and stared at it. Humphrey Bogart wouldn’t have taken this boat.…
“You already pay?” Wolf asked him.
“Yeah,” Lance muttered flatly.
“Great.”
“Yeah. Well, we wanted an adventure.”
“Wasté kte sni.”
Lance looked over at him. “What did you say?”
“I said ‘it won’t be good’.”
Lance gave a laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, it won’t get any better the longer we stand here and stare at it. Ah, this must be our intrepid guide.”
Jorge emerged from the shack that served as his ‘Safari Office.’ Dressed all in khaki, he did give the air of a Jungle Explorer. Fortunately for Lance, he did speak English. “Welcome, amigos, to Columbia!” Arms spread wide in greeting, he approached them with a huge smile.
Lance sincerely hoped he wasn’t expecting a hug.
“You misters ready for your jungle cruise?”
Lance wanted to make sure of their destination first. “You know for sure where El Lobo is located? It’s on this river?”
“Oh, sí, Señor Brentwood. El Lobo is a famous landmark in this region. Many…umm, I am not sure of right word. I would say many de tribu come to see El Lobo. You ready go now?”
Lance looked to Wolf for translation, but Wolf had an odd look on his face. He didn’t look exactly worried, just suddenly alert, and there was a tenseness that appeared around his mouth.
“Anything wrong, Wolf?”
Wolf’s sharp blue eyes cleared as his head snapped around. “No. It should be fine,” was his vague reply.
Jorge had already tossed their abused baggage onboard the Niña, as he had affectionately named his small boat. The two men sucked in their doubts as to the seaworthiness of the Niña and followed their bags in a more orderly fashion.
As the small Evinrude motor coughed and sputtered to life, Lance quickly glanced around for life vests. Amused, Wolf watched his head swivel back and forth for a moment and then had to remind Lance of something. “We’re not in California any longer.”
As the jungle quickly enveloped them, Lance had to agree as he swatted a relentless buzzing sound that seemed to find him irresistible.
“Must be a female mosquito.” Wolf was beginning to enjoy this trip more and more.
Irritated, Lance waved his hand over his ear again. “I see they don’t seem to be bothering you at all.”
Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “They wouldn’t dare.”
Lance gave up on the ineffectual waving he had been doing since they left the dock. He was starting to relax and appreciate the lush greenery around them. “You know what this reminds me of? The Jungle Cruise back home. Walt must have been equally impressed by the sights. It’s beautiful.”
Wolf looked curiously into the water. He wondered which part of the Amazon or its tributaries had the flesh-eating piranhas. It would have been interesting to drop some of their lunch into the water and see the result. Purely educational, he told himself with a smile.
The two friends knew from their research of Walt’s trip that they had about thirty miles upriver to travel. The day was a balmy eighty degrees, not a cloud in the sky—when they could see the sky through the jungle canopy that sometimes spanned the moving waters.
It would be hours before they reached their destination and, not feeling a need to chat at the moment, all three men were lost in their own thoughts. Lance, invariably, turned to remembrances of Adam and Beth. How could a journey such as this not bring them to mind? If Adam had been the one who discovered their destination, they would have had more specific, detailed information about the area. Beth would have loved the beauty of the jungle and commenting on every parrot that screeched overhead or on the variety of flowers that profusely bloomed along the banks. He hadn’t nicknamed her Captain Obvious for no reason. He gave a silent sigh as he trailed a lazy finger in the water as they motored along. Then, remembering, as Wolf had done, that piranhas were native to South America, he hastily pulled his hand back into the small boat.
Wolf maintained a content, even look on his face, but his mind still worked around the word that Jorge had been unable—or unwilling—to translate. Wolf knew the translation, and it bothered him. Witch doctor would be the closest English words. He knew the wolf was important in many cultures’ beliefs and the fact that the rock formation they were seeking was called El Lobo, or The Wolf, all worked to make him wonder what exactly they would find at their journey’s end.
Jorge also thought of de tribu, only he wasn’t particularly worried. He had four religious medals fastened securely around his neck. There was also some garlic, two silver bullets, and a string of juju beads in the boat, just in case….
In the jungle, when darkness falls, it falls quickly. Lance had decided to take their journey on the river right after they arrived, rather than spend the night at one of the small motels in town and get a fresh start in the morning. He hoped their journey would end before sundown and would thus avoid spending the night in the jungle, but, if they had to, they had to. There were enough supplies to keep them fed, hydrated, and warm. Jorge didn’t seem to mind one way or the other. If their trip took two days instead of one, he would get double the fare.
In time, the Niña pulled into an almost-imperceptible cove. There was so much underbrush and so much moss hanging from the trees that Lance and Wolf were surprised when there was actually a sturdy post in place with which to tie up the little boat.
Jumping to shore, Lance looked eagerly around. He didn’t see any formation that might be worthy of being called El Lobo. In fact, he didn’t see any rock formations at all. Walking away from the river, he could hear the sound of running water coming from another direction. He turned to ask Wolf his opinion, but he could see that Wolf was apparently listening to something else. Turning his head this way and that, Lance couldn’t detect any unusual sound. Wolf was standing completely still, his head up and tilted to the side as if he heard something very faint. Lance saw his nostrils flare briefly.
“You just sniff the river, man? That’s probably not a good idea here.”
Wolf turned back to Lance. The distracted look on his face was as if he couldn’t remember where they were or why they were there. That look passed in an instant. “No, I was just listening to the sounds coming from the jungle.” The statement in itself was true, but his eyes said something different.
With the realization that Wolf wouldn’t tell him anything unless he wanted to, Lance let it go. They were so close to their goal that he was excited to get moving. “So, which way do we go? I think I hear another river or stream or something over that way,” he offered, pointing vaguely to the west.
After conferring in Spanish with Jorge, Wolf nodded. “You’re right. Let me grab the flashlights and the shovel while Jorge gets a fire going.” He paused, glancing up at the sky. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until morning? It’ll be dark soon.”
“No, let’s get going. If we don’t find what we need, we can go back in the morning. If we do find it today, we can go home tomorrow.” The last word was accented by a
slap against his neck as another mosquito died. “One down. Twenty million to go.”
“Is the jungle losing its appeal for you already?”
“Something like that.” A shriek from a nearby parrot almost drowned his words.
They could see a faint path that lead away from their clearing through the jungle. The men could tell others had made this journey since Walt’s time. That made Lance all the more certain they were on the right path.
With Lance taking the lead with one of the flashlights, Wolf brought up the rear. Jorge had no desire to go see El Lobo. He got paid whether they came back or not. Wolf could hear the whisperings of a breeze as it filtered through the jungle canopy. Only…he wasn’t sure it was a breeze. He felt his heartbeat pick up a bit.
Lance’s flashlight played over the huge formation in front of them. He was fascinated by the rocks and the fact that he was in yet another place where Walt himself had walked decades ago. Knowing how he and Adam had found the clues before, he got to work making a systematic sweep over the entire formation with his flashlight. He was going to ask Wolf to lend a hand, but, on turning around, he could see that Wolf had company.
Wolf stood tall and wary as the dark figure emerged from the depths of the jungle. Their eyes locked as the older man slowly approached the dark, tall Wolf. He got within twenty feet of Wolf and stopped. Squatting down, he made a show of lighting the torch that was pulled out of the cloth pack he carried on his back. The flint sparked and caught, and suddenly the clearing was bathed in light. In the flickering, waving light, the stranger was much older than Wolf had thought at first. Lines appeared deeply etched in his face. His black eyes were cloudy, a whitish film covered the left eye completely. Dressed in worn, loose clothes, there was nothing remarkable about his outfit except for the decoration that hung around his neck. The necklace was made from teeth—sharp canine teeth. Wolf recognized them as wolf teeth.
Wolf had been aware that they had been followed for the last ten miles of their trip. As he was now being scrutinized, Wolf said nothing. Out of respect for the other man’s advanced age, he would let de tribu speak first about what was on his mind.
It All Started... Page 9
