by Jeff Dixon
After forming a close friendship with one of Walt Disney’s most trusted friends, Grayson Hawkes had been given a key with the challenge to take the key and “do what Walt had done.” It propelled him into a mystery full of clues, hidden treasures to find, and puzzles to unravel, that ultimately had led him to being named the chief creative architect of the entire company. He had used his knowledge and love of all things related to Disney and had been entrusted with the key to the kingdom. His role now was to guide and lead the company in ways that would not only honor Walt but also secure the direction that Walt envisioned for his creation to take. In many ways, Hawk’s rise to the highest position in the Walt Disney Company was one of the greatest Disney stories ever, created and designed by Walt and his brother Roy to ensure that their dreams would always stay on track.
Hawk smiled, distracted by the memory of his quest to discover the key to the kingdom; he had found some of the clues he needed on the streets of Frontierland and Liberty Square. Like an early American explorer, he had made some great discoveries in these places. Upon entering Liberty Square, the ensemble moved off to the left toward the Haunted Mansion. Rounding the corner, Hawk noticed a sign indicating the attraction was closed and braced himself for the sight of another unplanned addition to the display. The security detail dropped off and went another direction, while Cambridge, Shep, and Hawk entered the queue line and made their way along the ominous waiting area for the attraction. The stony eyes belonging to statues of the dearly departed watched them as they wove their way through the waiting line. Dodging monuments and twisting past the interactive tombs, they turned toward the entrance of the house.
“There.” Cambridge stopped and pointed beyond a wrought-iron fence into a faux cemetery where guests could amuse themselves reading the witty tombstones set up into the tree line.
Hawk moved past him, closely followed by Shep. He gripped two of the bars of the fence and peered into the graveyard, following the imaginary line from the tip of Reginald’s finger. A shadowy shape protruded from behind a tombstone near the top of the hill. Hawk looked more intently and noticed that the body was dressed in pirate garb.
“There’s a dead pirate lying in the cemetery?” Shep asked the obvious.
“It is neither dead nor a real pirate,” Cambridge stated dryly.
“Another audio-animatronic figure . . .” Hawk’s stomach sank at the observation.
“Precisely.”
“How did it get here, Uncle Reggie?” Shep turned toward Cambridge, calling him by a nickname he alone used for the security chief. A nickname that Reginald Cambridge usually ignored. This time he made an exception.
“That is what we must find out.”
The security detail now emerged from behind the trees and trudged through the cemetery toward the body. Working his way down the hill, one of the men slipped, causing another to lose his balance; both slid across the ground until they were right on the pirate figure. Regaining their footing, they looked down through the iron bars toward the three men who were watching their descent.
“Careful,” Hawk said with concern.
“Go ahead and move the pirate out of the area,” Cambridge instructed.
“Reginald, there was another pirate figure found this morning in the Carousel of Progress,” Hawk said, as he watched the men hoist the pirate up and cautiously retrace their steps back up the slippery slope, through tombstones and trees, with the animatronic figure in tow.
“Really?” Cambridge paused. “That is very interesting. We seem to be having an outbreak of displaced pirates this morning.”
“Shep.” Hawk addressed the Imagineer. “Make sure there’s nothing else wrong with the Haunted Mansion, and let’s get the attraction open. This is the fourth attraction today that has been down.”
“Got it!” Shep headed toward the front doors of the mansion and disappeared inside the darkened entrance.
Hawk turned and leaned back against the cool metal bars in the queue line. Placing a hand on his chin, he drummed his fingers slowly along his jawline.
As he tried to process and assemble the events of the morning, he became aware of Cambridge standing quietly, staring at him. Hawk cut his eyes toward him and knew that Reginald was giving him time to connect the events so he could give some decisive direction. He appreciated that Cambridge respected his ability to discern and to find creative solutions under pressure. Often Cambridge would wait in silence for him to formulate the next step of whatever plan they needed.
“Reginald,” Hawk began with a smile. “This is not what I expected when I started the day. How about you?”
“No, sir, it has been a day of surprises.”
“What do you say we make sure the rest of the surprises today are ones that we create for our guests?”
“I think that is what our guests would expect.”
“Will you get your teams to do another check of the Carousel of Progress, the Jungle Cruise, and the Haunted Mansion just to make sure we haven’t missed anything?” Hawk paused.
“Consider it done.” Reginald looked back over his shoulder toward the cemetery and then turned back to Hawk. “We have not finished checking on what happened to the ride system in Pirates yet.”
“I understand. Take as long as you need to there. I don’t want to open the attraction until we know all is well. Reginald, I also want you to double-check and make sure we have enough security in place today. Up the number if you need to—I don’t want to find any more pirates making special appearances in the Magic Kingdom.”
“I’ll do my best.” Cambridge tilted his head slightly. “May I inquire as to what you are getting ready to do?”
“Right now?” Hawk laughed, as he lifted his arms out from his sides. His shirt and pants were still clammy and cold from his swim in the Caribbean. “I’m going to change into some dry clothes.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know.” Hawk rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I missed something I was supposed to do while I was running around with you all morning.”
The one part of his new role that he didn’t enjoy was the number of appointments and meetings he had to attend. Although over the past few months he had gotten a better handle on controlling the maddening pace of his life as CCA, there were times he was still amazed at the number of people and things that would try to get a piece of his time. Cambridge was very aware of this, as they had discussed it seriously and even joked about it many times. To emphasize the point, Hawk pulled out his cell phone and held it up.
“Normally, someone would have called to tell me what I was missing, but since I baptized my phone this morning, it appears to be dead.”
“Perhaps I should get someone to accompany you back through the park.” Cambridge opened his cell phone to get someone there.
“No, I’ll be fine.” Hawk waved off his friend. “I can make it back to my apartment.”
“I know, but I would feel better—with the strange events of the morning and your not having a phone—if I could get you an escort back down Main Street.”
“Are you afraid I might go wandering off the grid?” Hawk raised his chin slightly with a quizzical look.
“Not at all.” Cambridge spoke slowly. “But there are times that you tend to go . . . how shall I say this? Off the marked roads.”
“Really?” Hawk feigned surprise. “Me? I’ll be fine.”
Reginald looked doubtful, so Hawk gave him a reassuring pat on the back as he walked away. He started to step over a chain to exit the attraction but stopped mid-step. Instead, he turned and very slowly began to retrace the winding path they had entered the attraction through. Being very careful to stay in the center of the queue line, he stopped and turned back toward Reginald.
“See?” Hawk furrowed his brow in mock seriousness. “I am quite at home on the marked pathways.” He waved his arm along the queue line. “I won’t get lost on my way home.”
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
MOVING AWAY F
ROM THE HAUNTED MANSION, Grayson Hawkes mentally plotted the course he would take back to his apartment in the Town Square on Main Street USA. Angling to his right would take him through Liberty Square, where he could cut around Ye Olde Christmas Shoppe, then use the lightly traveled guest bridge past the edge of Adventureland onto Main Street.
Things had been going well for the Disney theme parks since he had taken the helm of the company. While many gave credit to the leadership and vision he had brought to the entertainment empire, Hawk disagreed. His strong moral compass and leadership skills were important, to be certain, but he believed the Walt Disney Company’s success came from the fact that it was offering guests exactly what they desired—the best possible entertainment experience. Whether they were watching a motion picture, purchasing a toy, or staying at a themed resort, for Hawk the message was simple common sense: create magic, and show all guests and all cast members they are important.
His frustration over the last eighteen months came when people seemed to forget the message. Slowly but surely, his influence was rippling through the company, and he was growing more confident in his new role. As he moved toward the Liberty Bell, his mind went back to a childhood trip to Walt Disney World he’d made with his parents. A ceremony used to take place in front of the bell each day. It had been called “The Sons and Daughters of Liberty” and featured a fife-and-drum corps that would march through the crowd. A child was chosen to be an honorary member and was presented with a copy of the Declaration of Independence. On one particular visit, he had been chosen from the crowd, and he had kept the Declaration displayed on the wall of his bedroom for years.
A guest interrupted his trip down memory lane, offering him a camera. “Would you mind taking a picture of me and my family in front of the Liberty Bell?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Hawk gave them a second to position themselves just where they wanted to be. “Did you know that this bell is the only one in the world made from the same authentic cast used for the original in Philadelphia? Once this replica was completed, the mold from the original was destroyed. Is everyone ready? Smile . . .”
Taking the picture and returning the camera, he noticed that the young boy in the family seemed to be fascinated by something behind him. As the father thanked him, Hawk turned and looked back toward the Hall of Presidents attraction. Blinking in surprise, he saw a man standing in a dress suit with a mask over his head. With its famous overblown smile, the mask resembled former president Jimmy Carter. The smiling face was standing right in front of the entrance to the attraction and staring directly at Hawk.
“He looks weird,” the son in the family stated, breaking Hawk’s attention for a moment.
“You’re right, he does.” Hawk gave the boy a reassuring smile and then looked back toward the suited figure, who, still staring at the CCA, slid into a side entrance door of the attraction and disappeared inside.
Hawk strode toward the entrance and noticed the attraction was not scheduled to have its first show for another hour. Masks were not allowed to be worn into the park, and nothing like this full mask of a former president was sold anywhere on Disney property. It was against policy to have an entrance door unlocked prior to guests filling the attraction. Gripping the handle on the door and pulling it toward him, he discovered it was still unlocked. He stepped inside the darkened lobby of the Hall of Presidents.
The door silently sealed him inside, and he gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the reduced level of light. Sunlight streamed dimly through the glass on the doors and windows, creating a disconnected pattern of muted sun squares on the floor. Listening closely for any sound of the masked intruder, Hawk glided quietly toward the center of the lobby; his steps were muted in the plush carpet. He stopped next to the presidential seal embedded in the carpet. It was the only one allowed to be displayed outside of the Oval Office in Washington.
This attraction was a classic; it was in place when Walt Disney World had opened and still created waves of patriotism in the crowds that viewed it each day. But as a rule, they did not have presidents wandering in and out of the building. Hawk placed a hand on the cool rail that surrounded the seal so guests would not walk across it, and slowly began to circle the railing with his head slightly cocked, listening for any noise or movement. He heard the faint click of a door closing to his left.
In the stillness of the lobby, the soft sound seemed much louder than it might have, and Hawk gripped the rail tightly and spun toward the noise. Pushing away, he crept toward the door as he freed his cell phone to call Cambridge for assistance. He recalled that it was useless to him at the moment, so he put it back into his pocket. Reaching the doorway, he inhaled and swung the door toward him, stepping inside the massive theater. Even in the darkness, the empty seven-hundred-seat theater was cavernous. Trying to blink back the blackness, he cautiously moved toward the massive stage, which was a curtained barrier between the theater seats and the audio-animatronic presidents of the United States. He walked along the front of the stage and still saw nothing. A soft shuffling sound brought him to a startled stop. The noise had come from behind the curtain and dissolved into the stillness of the theater.
Hawk moved with less caution toward a corner of the stage. Lifting himself off the ground, he jumped up to catch the edge and pulled himself forward. His mind replayed Reginald Cambridge’s statement from not too long ago. There are times that you tend to go, how shall I say this? Off the marked roads. This might qualify as one of those times. He probably should stop and go get security to join him in checking out the attraction. The morning had been a strange one, and this masked character did not belong in the park. Yet he was here, so he might as well see what was going on and find out who the masked president might be. There was surely some explanation. Standing up, he joined the collection of individuals who had served America as president of the United States.
During a normal presentation of the Hall of Presidents, each president is introduced as a spotlight illuminates him. They move, lean, twitch, and interact with the other presidents sitting around them. Eventually, George Washington stands and recites the oath of office, and the current president addresses the audience. This allows the attraction to be updated and revamped at least every eight years. Bill Clinton was the first president ever to record a specific message for the attraction, and the tradition has continued with every president since.
Hawk walked carefully past the figures. Even in the dark, they seemed incredibly lifelike and more than a bit eerie. He thought he noticed movement from the line of presidents in front of him. Pausing, he strained to see through the darkness. He wasn’t sure if it was a shadow in his own mind or if there really was movement ahead. Hawk stepped back between two of the commanders in chief and stoically waited. Through slow and even breaths, he again tried to determine whether he was really there alone or there was someone else on the stage with him. Standing ramrod straight, he gently leaned his head forward and looked down the line of figures toward the other end of the stage. Carefully, he began to weave between the presidents as he navigated toward the center of the stage.
The back tier of presidents featured figures that predominately were standing. On the lower section of the stage, closest to the audience, many were seated so all could be viewed easily. Reaching the center of the presidents, Hawk turned and looked around. He saw no movement behind him in the shadows, but his eyes were now adjusting to the minimal amount of light that kept the stage from being completely opaque. Abraham Lincoln and George Washington, who would dramatically rise and speak to the crowd during the show, sat next to one another, silent, their backs to him.
He sensed movement next to him and turned toward President Thomas Jefferson. There was an explosion of movement from behind Jefferson, as someone lurched out and grabbed Hawk. A second set of hands grabbed him as well and threw him backward into a chair on the stage. Out of the darkness, still another set of hands emerged and pulled Hawk backward by his neck.
With an att
acker behind and on either side of him, he struggled to break free from their grasp. A tearing sound heightened his fighting instinct as he felt a thick band of material wrap across his chest, pinning his arms at his sides and hopelessly securing him to the chair he had been thrust into. Once the strap was in place, the hands released him.
The attackers remained behind him. He craned his neck to see them, but they had moved just beyond his sight line. He twisted his shoulders, trying to break free, but he was firmly fastened to the chair. He tried to stand and lift himself to his feet along with the chair, only to discover the chair was bolted to the floor. Frustration overwhelmed him.
Then he saw the suited figure step out from the line of presidents and loom toward him.
CHAPTER SIX
* * *
JULIETTE KEATON PLANTED BOTH HANDS firmly on the desk of Dr. Grayson Hawkes’s administrative assistant and leaned forward over it. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” The expression on Nancy Alport’s face made Juliette’s palms sweat. “He’s somewhere with Reginald Cambridge.”
Juliette stood straight and stalked around the office of Grayson Hawkes. She had known asking Nancy where he might be was a shot in the dark. But there was always a slim possibility she would know. It was so like Hawk not to tell her. Nancy had been with the Disney Company for many years. Her previous role as a cast member had been as the administrative assistant to Farren Rales, a legendary Disney Imagineer and the man responsible for her current boss’s meteoric rise to the top of the Disney empire. When Rales became an ambassador for the company and Hawk offered her a position to work with him, she eagerly accepted. During the past year, Juliette had spoken with her many times and had vented about how infuriating her friend, boss, and the CCA of the company could be. They had laughed about it on occasion; the current conversation was not one of those occasions.
