Kimberly slightly blushed at his remark. “So, what do you suggest as an alternative to getting wet?”
“I’ll tell you once we’re up in the Treehouse.”
It was past midnight when Lance returned to his locker to retrieve his backpack. Kimberly met him once again at the entrance to the Inn Between again. She had put on a dark windbreaker over her blouse, even though the summer night—or early morning as it had become—was most pleasant.
“Ready?” Lance wanted to give her one last opportunity to back out of the plan.
“I think so.” Even though her voice was steady, her eyes revealed some trepidation.
Lance took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Kimberly, we don’t have to do this.”
She looked down at her feet for a moment, and then brought her eyes up to his. “Actually, yes, we do.”
His smile was meant to encourage her. “Everything will be all right.”
She gave a wary smile back, keeping silent. I hope so, she thought to herself. I hope so.
Directly across from the backstage location of the Inn Between was the entrance to Adventureland. Between those two points was the Central Plaza where guests would decide which Land they wanted to explore. Lance and Kimberly walked casually across the Hub toward Adventureland. With the Park now closed, the large number of guests who had stayed until the very last minute were slowly headed south down Main Street; many families with children in strollers who were sound asleep, teenagers holding hands, kids with Mickey balloons…and Lance and Kimberly who walked diagonally across the Hub against the flow of guests who headed for the exit.
As they entered Adventureland, they passed the safari-themed gift shops opposite the Jungle Cruise exit gate. There was a handful of guests still busy picking out last minute souvenirs while cast members were trying to get the stores ready for inventory, straightening merchandise, or moving misplaced items back to their proper places.
The queue for the Jungle Cruise was silent when the two reached the Treehouse. Lance stopped to look up at the angle of the large branches that hung well out from the massive trunk. From previous research, Lance knew the life-like tree was made out of six tons of steel, over a hundred cubic yards of concrete contoured and etched to look just like bark, branches and limbs, and over 300,000 handmade vinyl leaves and blossoms. Now that night had fallen, the Treehouse was illuminated by ancient-looking lanterns. These flickering lights lined the wooden walkways built into the attraction so guests could easily move up and down the one hundred thirty-three stair-steps.
Up through the leaves, Lance could see one of the huts of the Treehouse. It was shaped like the bow of a ship with two extending arms, transoms from a sea-going vessel, which held a small lifeboat off to the side of the hut. Higher up, more out of sight from the ground, was the second of the three huts. This one was positioned well out from the main core of the tree and sat over the edge of the narrow entrance to the neighboring Indiana Jones ride. As they walked past Indy’s truck parked in the viewing area, Lance could now see the dark green, silent water of the Jungle Cruise. Looking up he also spotted some lights inside one of the open-air windows of the second hut, and got an idea.
“Follow me.” With a conspiratorial grin, he grabbed her hand.
The front, main stair entrance of the Treehouse was blocked off for the night. Sitting in the middle of the Adventureland walkway, it was in open view. The exit to the attraction, however, was back off to the left, with its flagstone walkways and bubbling stream that fed into the Jungle Cruise river. The exit had a fence surrounding it to deter people from sneaking into the attraction after the front had been un-ceremonially closed off by a large trashcan set inside the turnstile. While effective in keeping the children from darting in late at night, it now proved to be a deterrent to the two adults who wanted to do just that.
Lance led Kimberly along the fence to where it melded with a wall that marked the beginning of New Orleans Square and housed the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction. He found a place where the wall could be climbed with minimal difficulty. The decorative iron bars that connected the fence to the wall would become a foot hold. Peering through the fencing, he could see a relatively flat area of shredded bark that would soften a landing from the top of the fence. Looking around again, he noticed that they were now in what Security commonly called a ‘shadow zone’—an area of the Park that wasn’t lit at night. Shadow zones were popular areas for couples who wanted to spend some time together without being seen. Lance gave a brief grin. His fellow security guard, Wolf, could always ferret out these couples. It was like Wolf had a sixth sense. He just hoped Wolf was in a different area of the Park that night.
“Here.” Lance set down his backpack and motioned for Kimberly. “I’m going to give you a boost. Put your hands on the wall where the fence is attached to it. Lift your leg over the top and drop down into that flat area.” After a last look around to make sure no one was close by, he linked his fingers together.
Kimberly didn’t show the uncertainty she felt. She just put her left hand on the fence and her right hand on Lance’s shoulder, ready to go. There was a brief hesitation. “How about you? How are you going to get over?”
“Don’t worry. I think I’ve got it figured out.”
Kimberly shrugged and put her right foot in Lance’s ready hands. He easily boosted her so she was able to throw her leg over the top of the iron fence. In one fluid motion, she swung over the fence and lightly dropped to the ground with a soft thud.
Watching her through the fence, Lance was surprised. “Gosh. You should’ve been a gymnast.” He almost expected her to raise her arms up as he had seen Olympians do after they stick a landing.
“Well, I did take two years of gymnastics as a kid,” she said with a hint of pride.
“Hmmm, I’ll have to remember that.”
Again one last check for any passers-by—or his partner Wolf—Lance tossed his backpack over the fence. He then grabbed the fence with one hand, the wall with his other, and put a foot on the little foothold he had spotted. “Heads up. I’m coming over.” Pushing off, he lifted himself with one easy move and launched his feet over the fence like a pummel horse competitor. Unlike Kimberly, Lance took the opportunity to show off by raising his hands as he landed. “Ta da. Three years gymnastics.”
Helping settle the backpack across his back, her words conveyed a touch of sarcasm. “I’m suitably impressed with your strength and agility.”
Lance laughed quietly, not sure if she was truly impressed or just making fun of him. “Thanks. I honestly didn’t think gymnastics would ever have adult applications.… I guess I was wrong.”
The two of them glanced through the fence one last time for any observers. Not only was it extremely dark in this portion of Disneyland, but, once Fantasmic! was over, this was often the most quiet part of the Park.
Since the exit of the Treehouse was at a higher elevation than the walkway through Adventureland, they had to use the rockwork of the retaining wall to climb into that section. Wading through ferns and flowers and careful not to step on any of the plants, they easily hopped over the narrow, bubbling stream. Lance helped Kimberly over the wood-rail fence that marked the guests’ boundary leading into the laboratory section the Treehouse on ground level. Here, during the day, kids could find pots and pans to bang with metal spoons, ropes to climb that would make Sabor the Leopard scream high above, and plenty of hiding places to avoid their parents. As they walked past the kitchen and its silent gramophone, they came to the first—or actually, the last—landing of stairs in the Treehouse since they had entered through the exit. Once they got past this small section of stairs that was well hidden behind the massive tree trunk, they would be out in the open, visible from below should anyone be there to look upward.
“Crawl through this section.” Lance had already knelt down. “The rails should hide us until we reach that hut, but take it slow.”
Following suit, Kimberly followed him acro
ss the twenty feet or so of the wooden planks, being careful not to scrape their feet.
They were now at the lowest hut, completely protected on all sides by a lovely thatched porch. Inside were two sections—the ship’s wheel sitting in a dark-paned window with various nautically-themed knickknacks, and the hut itself which held the figures of Jane and Tarzan as she sketched him. During the day, a large animation pad on the back wall would project the drawing as it progressed until it was a full image of Tarzan.
“We need to get up there.” Lance helped Kimberly to her feet and pointed to the next, higher hut. There was more cover up there, both from all the leaves of the tree and the sheer height of where they would be. It would be easier traveling.
She followed his pointing finger. “Isn’t that the master bedroom?” Even in the darkness Lance could make out the suspicious look on her face.
“Well, as a matter of fact, it is,” Lance admitted. “It’s also the closest place to the Jungle Cruise.”
“Uh huh.…”
“Really, Kimberly?” Lance spread out his arms in an innocent gesture. “Oh, come on…you think.…?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I know you, Lance.”
“You know the old Lance.”
Not wanting to start something, she had to relent a little. “Well, you have been a total gentleman.” From under her breath came a clear, “so far.”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
“Famous last words.” She put her hands on his hips and turned him around away from her with a little shove toward the next flight of stairs. “Just keep moving, Tarzan.”
“Yes, Jane.”
As they continued their climb, they came to an observation platform. Secure in the abundance of leaves and tree limbs around them, they paused for a minute. There was a nearly-full moon cresting over the top of the Pirates of the Caribbean building, just past the black Jolly Roger flag blowing in the slight breeze. They could easily make out the tall masts of the Columbia Sailing Ship in its dock at Fowler’s Harbor to the west and the outline of the red rocks of Big Thunder Mountain to the north. But, they knew what they were doing could get them fired, and there were many unanswerable questions about what they might find. If not for their internal unrest, Lance and Kimberly would otherwise have recognized the night as simply a beautiful, balmy Southern California night.
Intent on their mission, they turned from the peaceful sight and came to the second hut. This was the main room that once was the master bedroom of Mother and Father of the Swiss Family Robinson. Now it was home to a touching scene of baby Tarzan being held by his adoptive mother, the gorilla Kala, as they watched scenes of his life play on a movie screen.
The topmost hut was in ruins with the rouge leopard Sabor perched in the bamboo rafters and ready to pounce on anyone who came near. Lance knew there was no room in that hut to hide, and, besides, it was too far away from where they needed to be.
Lance set down his backpack as Kimberly looked over the scene with Kala and Tarzan. Knowing what he would find, he reached in through the narrow window and bamboo bars that kept people from getting inside the hut. There was a special latch that contained a secret release button. While a lock could have been installed for maintenance workers who had to clean or service the hut, latches were more advantageous since locks would have required dozens of keys for all the workers who needed access. A secret button hidden on a flat back portion of the door worked out well. Guests didn’t even realize there was an access door, let alone a means with which to open it. With a click, the latch was released and the frame holding the bamboo shafts over the top of the window swung open like a door.
“I’m impressed. You know any other secrets?” Kimberly watched as he began to step over the sill of the window.
“Well,” Lance began, between grunts of trying to get his leg over and through the window. It was much too small for his six-foot-two-inch frame to squeeze through. “I have a feeling that when this is all over, you’ll probably know more about me than my own mother and father.”
Kimberly immediately saw the problem and the solution. With a grab of his foot, she unceremoniously shoved him through the window opening.
He tumbled into the hut with a thud. Being so high in the tree and surrounded by concrete and vinyl, they hoped the sound wouldn’t carry too far.
Before Kimberly could climb over the sill, Lance suddenly saw a bright beam of light somewhere below them through the loosely-fitting floor boards of the hut.
“Get down on the plank!” Lance hissed from inside the hut. “Scrunch up as close as you can on that platform in front of here. Hurry!”
They could see the light shining on the opposite side of the tree from where they were, tracked back and forth in a search pattern and now came toward the higher part of the Treehouse. The beam would flicker as it was caught between branches and leaves, and they could barely make out the outline of the person who aimed the light at the various walkways and stairs.
It was a strong bluish-white beam, one Lance immediately recognized as a standard Security-issue Mag light like he carried when he worked as a closing shift guard.
Through the bamboo walls of the hut, Lance could see the light come toward them. The window had already been closed when he first spotted the light. Outside the hut, Kimberly lay motionless, afraid to move, even to breathe.
The beam followed the planks right to where Kimberly lay, moving along the far edge of the platform toward the edge that dropped into the Indy ride below. Eyes wide, she watched as the white light slowly edged along the floor. Pulling her body in tight so no part could be visible around the corner of the platform, she saw the light edge even closer to the tips of her shoes.
The light came within inches of her shoe and then started to sweep back in the direction from which it came and then began a slow retreat. Apparently the guard didn’t want to make that last, high climb to the topmost hut. When the light was no longer visible, Kimberly sagged in relief and allowed herself to slowly exhale the breath she had been holding.
The two remained motionless for another two minutes. Kimberly finally took a hesitant peek over the edge of the platform through the rails and could see the guard was now inside the FastPass area for Indy. He then headed through the queue area and across the empty dock of the Jungle Cruise.
Careful not to make any noise, Kimberly stood, her legs trembling and heart pounding. As she leaned into the window, she looked down at Lance who now sat against the far wall with a big grin on his face. The lock was again unlatched and he motioned for her to quickly come in through the window. He scooted next to where Kala and baby Tarzan as she leaned in and began to step over the open frame. Before Lance could help, her toe caught on the bottom edge of the railing. Off balance, Kimberly fell forward against Lance who put out a hand to catch her. The momentum was too great and he fell backward onto the thin carpet, pulling her on top as he tried to cushion her fall.
Lance let out a grunt as her body slammed into his stomach. Kimberly, still scared of being heard or discovered, lay motionless on top of him, hands still interlocked with his, her face buried in the crook of his neck.
Suddenly, she started to giggle, her body trembling as she lay on top of Lance.
“Shh!” Lance warned, and then suddenly started to giggle himself at their predicament. After the tense moments with the security guard and now in that awkward position, they were having a difficult time containing their emotions.
Kimberly lifted her face a few inches from Lance’s neck to look at his contorted face. Air slipped out of Lance’s mouth as he tried to hold in his laughter. Kimberly let go of his hand and covered his mouth, which didn’t help him at all. She was now laughing through her nose, trying desperately not to make any sound. Lance took his now-free hand and put his finger on Kimberly’s lips.
In that moment, as Lance looked at Kimberly in the darkness, his laughing subsided and he just stared into the depths of her lovely eyes. Kimberly fel
t herself being drawn into Lance’s mesmerizing gaze. Her giggling stopped, too.
In a sudden movement, she rolled to her side, off of Lance and onto her knees. Her voice came out a little strained. “Okay…so, what’s your plan from here on out?” She attempted to sound normal though her cheeks were flushed and her heart pounded in her chest.
Their unexpected change in position surprised Lance. A look of hurt passed over his face. Then, remembering why they were there, he recovered and quickly got to his feet, clearing his throat. “Well, since maintenance works on the Jungle Cruise from closing to about three a.m., I guess we sit up here and wait.” The moment between them gone, Lance reached for his backpack and unzipped the large top pocket. “I’ve got dinner, Madame.” He glanced at his Rolex—one of the last luxury items he hadn’t yet had to sell. The time was twelve-fifty in the morning. “I mean breakfast,” he clarified with a grin.
Kimberly suddenly felt a wave of hunger. Perhaps from nerves. Perhaps from the raw emotion she had just felt with Lance. Perhaps glad to have something to do with her hands. Lance handed her one of the two ham sandwiches he had packed. The sandwiches had been on top of a frozen Blue Ice bag, now no longer frozen but still cold. “Thanks. I’m starving.”
He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a matching thermos. “If you don’t mind sharing my germs, I’ve got iced tea and one cup…well, minus the ice apparently,” he amended after peering into the thermos.
After a couple of minutes of companionable silence while they ate, Kimberly had a question as she handed the cup back to Lance. “So, what happens after maintenance wraps up at three?”
“Do you know what a zip line is?”
The question surprised her. It wasn’t what she expected. “Yes. I rode one in Jamaica when my dad and I took a cruise together.”
Lance lifted his eyebrow. “Really? For some reason I can’t picture your father taking time off for anything, let alone a Caribbean cruise, or using a zip line.”
It All Started... Page 18
