by Jeff Dixon
“Shep, you aren’t helping here,” Juliette scolded. “So what does this mean?”
“It means that someone is moving around in the attraction.” Cambridge played the footage again and paused with the image, although distorted, in the clearest view they had on the screen. “And whatever or whoever it is . . . is not supposed to be here.”
“It’s a ghost,” Bill restated.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
* * *
GRAYSON HAWKES STOPPED AND STOOD his ground, as the shadowy figure eased into the partially lit passageway. Dressed in what Hawk guessed were gray polyester trousers and gray rumpled shirt, the man also came to a halt before getting too close. Stringy, brilliant-white hair was splayed across the top of the man’s head. His skin was pale, almost translucent, as if he had not seen the light of day for many years, much like the interior of the attraction. The man appeared old but surveyed Hawk with clear blue eyes that almost glowed in the dim light.
“So I finally get to meet you.” A smooth voice emerged from the translucent-skinned figure.
“I’m Hawk.” He stepped forward with a hand extended to shake.
“I know who you are, my boy.” The man waved the hand away.
“I’m at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know you.” Hawk pulled back his hand.
“Why don’t you call me . . . George.” The old man snorted and took a seat on an old crate that Hawk had not noticed until that moment.
“OK, George . . .” Hawk allowed his eyes to dart around the area to make sure there was nothing else or no one else he had missed. “What are you doing down here in these damp old passageways?”
“Waiting to meet you, of course.” George smiled. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for years.”
“Years?”
“Yes, years. Are you really as good as I’ve heard?”
“Again, I’m sorry . . . I don’t know what you mean.” Hawk took another step forward.
“You know the history of Walt Disney, you understand the work of the Imagineers, you are a walking encyclopedia of Disney trivia, you enjoy the art of storytelling, and you are the visionary who is the keeper of the key to the
kingdom . . . that is what I have heard about you.”
“Where have you heard all of that?”
“Oh, I have my sources . . . but everyone knows those things about you. What I want to know is what I asked you before—are you really as good as I have heard?”
“I don’t know how to answer that.” Hawk tilted his head.
“I hope you are . . . because if you aren’t, then the kingdom is at risk.”
“Who are you?” One possibility loomed before all others. Hawk felt his heartbeat quicken as he realized who this might be.
“I told you, call me George.” The old man raised his chin and smiled again. “Tell me, how difficult was it for you to discover the true meaning of the key?”
Hawk did not know for sure how much this old man knew about the key, what the key really meant, and what being the keeper of the key really involved. In just a few moments he’d given Hawk the impression that he knew a great deal. But with the events of the day, the pirates, and his threatening encounter in the Hall of Presidents, Hawk knew better than to divulge any detail about the key beyond what the man offered and already knew.
Hawk stepped over beside the man and spotted another wooden crate. He slid it across the floor, and it scraped liked metal running over a chalkboard. Hawk winced at the noise and felt the hair on the back of his neck tense. The pale man watched, expressionless, and Hawk sat down and then answered the question.
“It’s just a key. You find the things it opens, and that’s about it.” Hawk smiled.
“Very good.” The translucent man laughed loudly. “Very good indeed. You are wise not to tell me anything. You don’t know me. Right now you’re afraid that I might be your enemy, that I might be the one trying to take the kingdom from you, that I might be the one who caused all the disruptions in the park today.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“As well it should have. But I assure you I am not your problem. . . . But how can you be sure of that? How do you know who I am? The man again leaned toward Hawk with a mischievous grin on his face. “Figure it out, Dr. Hawkes. Who am I?”
“You are someone who knows your way around the Pirates of the Caribbean. You are someone who is aware of who I am and what my job is. You are someone who knows about a particular key I possess. You also know there were a few incidents in the theme park today . . .”
“Good, good . . . keep going . . .”
“You meet me here, in an attraction that has been shut down all day, away from anyone else in the building, and you tell me to call you George. Conveniently, you choose the same name of the legendary ghost that many cast members think haunts this attraction.”
“And you don’t think I’m a ghost?” laughed the old man.
“No, I don’t . . . and I don’t think the attraction is haunted. But you are someone who said a moment ago that you have been waiting to meet me for years . . . and that intrigues me.”
“Very good, you didn’t miss a thing.” George smiled a warm, genuine smile that seemed to chase away some of the dampness from the hallway. “I have been waiting to meet you since the day Walt Disney died.”
“That is because you were a friend of Walt’s, and he and Roy chose you to help design the mystery of the key.” Hawk smiled too, as the pieces started to fall into place in his mind.
“Yes . . . and you managed to tell me all of that without mentioning any detail about what the key really is, what the key means, and what Farren Rales told you when he gave it to you,” George offered, as if they were playing a game of verbal chess.
“That is because each of you has a different part, a different piece of the puzzle. You don’t know the details about what Farren Rales did or didn’t tell me . . . just like he has no idea that you are talking with me right now . . . correct?” Hawk advanced the rook in their cerebral chess match.
“You are correct. But after observing you over these past months, I think you are ready for the next piece of the puzzle, as you called it.” He paused and sighed deeply. “Sadly, there are others who seem to be intent on trying to take away what you have been given. My friends Walt and Roy always knew there would come a day when someone who saw the world, the culture, and the industry with the clarity they did would need to be leading this company. Farren Rales was tasked with finding that individual . . . you. He was to follow the guidelines and criteria that Walt himself designed. He chose you, and from what I have seen, it was a good choice.”
“Thank you,” Hawk was genuinely touched that this stranger approved of the choice. Hawk understood that this was an Imagineer, one of a very select few that knew Walt and Roy Disney well enough to be entrusted with the future of what they had built over their lifetime.
“You’ve been given the key to the kingdom . . . but how will you unlock the kingdom?”
Hawk sat in silence. The question had placed him in checkmate. If there was something to unlock, something to know, something to do, he didn’t have any idea what it was or where to find the answer. His instincts told him he needed to trust George. Although he had just met him, he was a part of an elite group in history. He was also a part of Hawk’s history now. And what happened next would impact the lives of many people for years to come.
“So, how do I unlock the kingdom?” Hawk asked.
“Aw, you know it is not that easy.” George slowly rose to his feet. “I can’t just tell you.” He gestured around them. “These walls have ears. There is a group of people who want to take the kingdom from you. Information, time, and discovery are the most valuable commodities any one person can possess. You have to figure it out, my friend . . . and if people want to take it from you, then they will have to figure it out for themselves.”
George took a step toward Hawk and embraced him. As he gave him a hug, he whispered in
Hawk’s ear, “Unlock what never was, to protect what is yet to be.”
He let him loose and stepped away. As George stopped just on the edge of disappearing into the shadows, Hawk once again extended his hand toward the old man.
“It has been an honor to meet you, George. Will I get the chance to talk with you again?”
This time George reached out and took his hand, shook it, and said, “Start in my tower.” And with a wink and a nod, the translucent man slipped away into the darkness.
The sounds of the passageway once again echoed around Hawk, the dripping of water from some unseen source. The hushed sound of air breezing through the catacombs and the words that George had left with Hawk, Unlock what never was, to protect what is yet to be . . . Start in my tower, echoing in his head. Reaching down to grab his phone, Hawk once again remembered that he had ruined it in this very building earlier in the day. Snapping his fingers in frustration, he turned and began retracing his steps back through the backstage hallways. Each step he found himself moving a little bit quicker until he broke into a run trying to unravel himself from the twisting tunnels.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
* * *
HAWK BURST THROUGH THE JESUS DOOR, startling the people standing in the load area just beyond the Moonlight Bay diorama. In three strides he had managed to join the group who was still stunned at his unexpected entrance.
“Hawk, is everything alright?” Juliette asked, as he stepped next to her.
“What are you running from?” Shep asked, and then smiled an impish grin. “Did you just see a ghost?”
“Not funny,” Juliette fired back. “I told you that story is just—”
“Where is George’s Tower?” Hawk asked. Juliette’s jaw dropped slightly, Shep stared at him in disbelief, and Bill looked both startled and confused at the same time. Hawk impatiently continued. “George’s Tower . . . have you heard of it? Do you know where it is?”
“It’s between the well scene and the burning city scene.” Juliette stared at Hawk. Hawk pivoted his head toward her, a bit taken back that she knew so quickly. He turned toward Bill, who had not yet spoken. “How do I get there?”
“Follow me.” Bill turned and stepped through the boat in the loading area and hopped out on the other side.
Hawk, Shep, and Juliette followed their guide over the boat, along a pathway on the other side of the loading area, through a door, and into a set of corridors. Single file, they walked behind Bill as he quickly navigated through the backstage area. Hawk had seen this backstage area earlier in the day when he had entered Pirates, but it still was unfamiliar to him; without a guide, he would only be guessing how to get where he was trying to go.
Over Hawk’s shoulder, Juliette said softly, “Why do you need to get to George’s Tower?”
“Because George told me to go there,” Hawk tossed back.
Shep leaned in next to her. “I knew the ghost was real. Hawk has seen and talked to a ghost.”
“Stop it,” she retorted. “You know better than that.”
“I’m just a little spooked out, that’s all,” Shep replied.
Hawk became aware that nobody was following him. Turning back, he noticed that Juliette and Shep had stopped and were in an intense conversation. He glanced back to make sure Bill wasn’t going to get too far away and then stopped and spun back toward the pair.
“What are you doing?” He asked, loudly enough for them to stop talking. “Are you coming with me or not?”
They stopped their argument and rushed to catch up to their boss and friend. When they got closer, Juliette spoke up first, “Sorry.”
“We were just discussing that you had talked to a ghost,” Shep blurted out.
“We were not discussing that, Shep was the one saying that.” Juliette raised her hands in frustration.
“What is wrong with you two?” Hawk again made sure he could see where Bill went. Keeping his voice in a controlled whisper, he continued, “I didn’t see a ghost, I didn’t talk to a ghost, there is no such thing as ghosts. This attraction is not haunted, that is just an urban legend passed along from cast member to cast member . . . so get a grip!”
“Told you.” Juliette gloated at Shep.
“Juliette . . .” Hawk scolded as he turned to catch up with Bill.
Their trip through the attraction slowed, and they found themselves on the set standing next to the well. While Hawk studied the tower, Juliette and Shep noticed the audio-animatronic figures all around them. The attraction was shut down, the lights were on, and the soundtrack was silent, but there was still movement around them.
“I never knew these things twitched when they weren’t running.” Shep watched as the audio-animatronic pirate seemed to have a slight muscle spasm in front of him. “Weird.”
“It does give you the creeps, doesn’t it?” Bill asked. “Being in this attraction after it’s closed down can make your mind start playing tricks on you.”
Hawk turned toward Bill. “How do I get to the top of the tower?”
“You’re going to climb it?”
“That is probably the only way to get to the top.”
Bill motioned for them to follow and guided them to the base of the tower. Out of the view of guests, a vertical ladder ran to the top of the structure. Standing at the base of it and looking up, Hawk hesitated. It looked much higher than he had originally thought. He glanced back down toward the base of the tower. Something on the wall caught his eye, and he moved to inspect it more closely.
Looking back at Shep, he tapped the place with his finger. Shep stepped over to take a closer look, as did Juliette and Bill. They all leaned in to see what Hawk was pointing at. There was graffiti written randomly on the base of the tower, but Hawk was directing them to look at two initials—not written, but carved into the tower itself.
G.C.
“Whew, look at that.” Hawk widened his eyes in feigned terror. “A ghost who carves his initials . . .” He pretended to shiver as he smiled at his friend. “There is nothing to be afraid of.”
Shep laughed and retorted, “Except climbing up that very high ladder.”
Hawk looked back up toward the top of the tower, inhaled sharply, grabbed the first rung of the metal ladder, and pulled himself up. The ladder stretched straight up, and he kept his body close to it as he made his ascent. Hand up, step up, hand up, step up . . . he kept focused on where he was going, being very careful not to look down.
When he reached the top of the ladder, he looked into the alcove at the peak. He reminded himself this was a decorative set, not really a tower, a facade to hide a support pillar. Because of that he wasn’t sure what he should assume would support his weight. He clung to the ladder, hoping he wouldn’t have to move too far away from it.
His eyes searched inside the tower from his new vantage point, and he noticed it—an envelope. Nothing fancy, just an envelope with something written on the front. He stretched while holding onto the ladder, and with the tip of his fingers, he caught the edge of the paper. With a flick, he pulled the envelope back toward him, and it slid just enough for him to be able to pick it up with his fingers.
As he drew it toward his face, he saw the handwritten name on the front of the envelope, one word scrawled in oversized letters. Hawk. With one hand still on the ladder, he shoved the discovery into his back pocket and took another glance around the alcove. Seeing nothing of import, he took in another deep breath and began his descent. He exhaled slowly, while carefully making his way to the bottom. When he was close enough, he jumped to the ground with a flourish.
“Well?” Juliette tilted her head to one side and raised her hands, palms up.
“I found what I was looking for.” He smiled.
“What were you looking for?” Bill wrinkled his forehead.
“What I found, of course.” Hawk began retracing their path to get to the base of the tower. “And what did you all find as you were looking at the security tapes?”
“We found an i
mage on film.” Bill narrowed his eyes. “It is strange, it looks like it could be a ghost.” He paused. “I mean . . . if you believe in such things.”
“I don’t and it’s not,” Hawk said kindly. “Finish up your work here and get the attraction ready to reopen tomorrow, please.” He turned toward Shep and Juliette. “See if you can round up Jonathan and find Reginald, and let’s meet at my place as soon as you can get there.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Shep nodded. “Should we order dinner?”
“Maybe Jonathan can bring pizza,” Juliette suggested, then turned to Hawk and raised her eyebrow. “And exactly why are we all meeting?”
“So I can show you what I found today.” He fingered the envelope. Raising it in front of his face, he twisted the package, trying to peek at what was hidden inside. “And because I think a ghost might be trying to tell me something.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
* * *
THE CALL OF CURIOSITY HAD COMPELLED them to come. The unexpected invitation to visit the home of Grayson Hawkes was one that couldn’t be ignored. Hawk’s place was also known as the Hawk’s Nest. It was on the second floor of the Fire Station in the Town Square on Main Street USA. As the only permanent resident of the Magic Kingdom, Hawk had the freedom to move about the park in the evening when preparations for the new day were always being made.
Most people never realize how busy the Disney World Resort is after it is closed to guests, but each park is a beehive of activity, taking care of details that can’t be addressed with guests present. The members of this third-shift crew had grown used to seeing Hawk move about the park; they enjoyed his visits, and on occasion, he would treat everyone in the area to ice cream from the ice cream parlor at the end of Main Street.
This evening, the Hawk’s Nest was full of people who had entered a bit more discreetly. The Magic Kingdom was still open. Directly below the apartment was a shop with a constant flow of people moving in and out. The parade was moving past the apartment window, and guests were jammed together up and down Main Street USA. Juliette, Shep, Reginald, and Hawk had been joined by Jonathan Carlson.
