by David Smith
Nathan removed the safety chain from the basket and stepped up onto the short wooden wall of the patio, testing its strength by putting a leg over it. Quietly, he swung his other leg over and then dropped down onto the patio floor, looking both directions as well as inside the empty apartment in case he mistakenly missed someone still there.
After his moment’s observations, Nathan moved to the sliding French door that led to the apartment’s interior. Surprised, Nathan found the door unlocked.
“Too easy,” Nathan said to himself. He wouldn’t even have needed the help of his sister Evelyn to distract anyone nearby.
Quickly, Nathan stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him. He looked around the modest sized but handsomely decorated apartment. Though he didn’t have time to admire or even take in all the room’s interesting items, he did notice the ornate coverings that framed the front windows overlooking Main Street; beautiful off-white lace blinds and the pulled-back, burgundy velvet drapes. Nathan’s main interest, however, was in front of him and to his left.
The antique gramophone.
He walked across the matching red, white and black-flowered carpet, surprised by the extremely soft padding below. Nathan wouldn’t have known that Walt had the extra thick padding installed because of a polo injury, one he received three decades earlier when he took a nasty fall from his polo horse. The injury still gave Walt a nagging pain in his back and the extra padding under the carpet offered a slight reprieve for him at least while he was on his feet inside his apartment. Nathan had heard about Walt Disney’s health issues in several discussions during lunches at work with his boss, Willie Riggio, but didn’t know the extent of them at all.
Standing in front of the gramophone, Nathan looked the machine over without touching it. He moved his head around the contraption, avoiding the left side of the machine where the large green horn that projected the sound jutted out of the device. Centered on the box, behind the round, black cylinder that the stylus sat on to create the music, Nathan saw there was a small black button, one that did not look to be part of the operation elements of the machine. Nathan again looked around before pressing the button. Reaching over the top where a “Columbia Gramophone” logo and a manufacturing date of “1902” was imprinted on a small metal plate Nathan pushed the small knob he figured was the one that he had seen Walt Disney push earlier.
A slight click could be heard within the machine. Nathan quickly released the button and a door sprung open on the right side of the device.
Nathan’s eyes widened as he leaned over and spied the small drawer inside the gramophone casing. Nathan grasped a diminutive brass handle and pulled out the drawer from inside the little door. As the wooden drawer slid out, he could see the black velvet bag that he had seen Walt place inside the box. With a slight tremble, his fingers grasped the top edge of the bag, pulling open the cinched top. He could feel the weight of what was inside; if indeed it was a precious stone, he wondered what a stone of this size could be worth. Using one hand, he laid the open end of the bag upon his other hand’s palm, letting what was inside slowly slide out.
It was then he saw with wide eyes, the exquisite red, heart-shaped diamond on what looked to be a solid gold mount. As the gem landed in his hand, the chain, an intricately woven gold braid, slid out and the weight of the chain flipped the red pendant upside down onto his palm, landing the sparkling diamond face down in his hand.
Suddenly, Nathan felt faint as an eerie pall was felt behind his eyes in his forehead. He felt heat in the palm of his hand, heat radiating from the gemstone.
In a split second, Nathan saw images in his mind, clear, unmistaken visual impressions; dozens of images in a collage of pictures that defied logic and understanding. Yet Nathan was able to grasp some of the images:
He saw himself being handed four large canvas bags in darkness. Each bag was white with leather trim. Nathan actually could feel the weight of the bags in the vision. It was as if the images provided multiple sensory impressions, not just the visual. And even within the visual, there was color, not the grayscale typically associated with dreams.
Rapidly, he mentally grasped at another image: A hole in the ground and hardened steel.
And a third image; he saw himself climbing a concrete pillar above which a concrete track of some kind spans to another pillar; a bridge? It was something like a bridge that spanned a tall, metal fence below. Another image appeared, one that was equally confusing: Nathan saw Walt Disney, his face gaunt, his eyes closed, lying still in a bed, one high up and with metal rails as if in a hospital.
Suddenly, Nathan heard a sound from below the apartment, a sound that was not associated with any of the images or visions he had just seen; it was the sound of someone from outside the apartment. The noise jolted Nathan away from the visions.
Quickly, Nathan put the pendant back into its bag and into the drawer. He pushed it in and closed the small door. He listened again and heard voices talking from outside and below the front door. The stairs that led up the side of the building, Nathan thought.
He moved across the room and silently slid open the French door to the patio. He could hear footsteps moving up the side of the building, up the steps. Nathan hurriedly closed the French door sliding it as quickly and quietly as possible.
He stepped over the short pulpit wall and into the cherry picker basket. Without latching the safety chain, Nathan immediately hit the horizontal control switch which moved the basket towards the tree he had been trimming earlier when he had seen Walt Disney in the apartment.
His heart was pounding in his chest, his brow wet with moisture; Nathan adjusted the controls so that he was under the nearest branch. Quickly, he grabbed a hand saw and without looking behind him, he began cutting the branch in front of him just as he heard the side door to the apartment open. This time, Nathan heard two voices. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw Walt, and behind him, a shorter, balding man walked into the apartment. Nathan had only seen Walt’s brother Roy once in a picture, but while the men were distinctively different in stature, Nathan could see the family resemblance.
He could not hear the men talking inside, but he felt confident that he had not been seen by either man.
Nathan finally took a breath for the first time in over a minute. He continued to cut the branches of the eucalyptus tree. He tried to be invisible outside, indiscriminately working on the branches, in case Walt or Roy looked out.
When Nathan had cut the offending branches, he slowly lowered the basket. The hydraulics released a small amount of air as the basket descended. Nathan momentarily could see inside the window as the basket lowered past. He could see the two men inside sitting on a couch, Walt now smoking a cigarette.
Another day, Mr. Disney. Another day, Nathan thought to himself as the line of sight inside Walt Disney’s apartment disappeared from view as the basket approached the ground.
It was time to pull weeds on Tom Sawyer Island, according to his landscaping “To Do” list.
Mentally, Nathan was developing a second “To Do” list.
“Disneyland Park is sort of a monument to the American way of life…a memorial to the freedoms that made it all possible.”
Walt Disney, May 1957
CHAPTER 5
Deception
Saturday, June 24th 2010
6:30am
Marriott Hotel, Anaheim California
Malaysia Hosner woke up early; her ears still hummed from her performance the night before and it was hard for her to fall asleep in another hotel room. She slipped on the complimentary white, terry-cloth robe with a “Marriott” crest on the chest. The robe was held loosely by the matching tie around her waist and open lapels revealed her youthful skin.
She was careful not to make too much noise as she didn’t want to wake Genevieve Schroder who was sleeping in the adjoining room next to her and Laura’s suite at the Marriott Resort. The beautiful hotel welcomed the sisters late the night before; its twin fountains frame
d the large semi-circular portico and opulent glassed-in lobby. Their Hospitality Suite had two bedrooms and a door adjoining a smaller one-bedroom unit that was occupied by a slumbering Genevieve.
The Marriott was located next to the Anaheim Convention Center just a block south of Disneyland in Anaheim. Unbeknownst to the rest of the band and certainly to any of the press that had been covering her arrival to the United States, Malaysia convinced Genevieve to drive her and her sister Laura down to Anaheim the night before so that no one would know where they were staying. She regretted making her comment to the reporter Mark Maddox as it might end up having people looking out for her entourage coming to Disneyland. Luckily, Maddox took her at her word and didn’t print her intention of visiting the “Happiest Place on Earth.” Because she was indeed void of any entourage, she felt confident that she would not be easily recognized here, especially with the plan that she and Laura devised the night before.
What Genevieve didn’t know was that Laura had brought along hair coloring she had purchased at a drug store the night before and a change of clothes, hats and sunglasses that no one had seen them wear.
“Do you think this is going to fool people?” Malaysia asked her sister as she squirted thick, dark brown fluid from a plastic bottle along the roots of her blonde hair. She looked at herself in the mirror as she stood next to Laura; her former blond hair slowly turning into a wet, dark brown glaze.
Laura looked at her sister in the mirror. “We aren’t trying to fool anyone, Mal. We just want to blend in,” Laura said, then looked at her own reflection, evaluating the coverage of her own blonde hair with a reddish-brown concoction. She added, “With the hair coloring, sunglasses, clothes and the hats I got us, I’m hoping we won’t be recognized.”
Laura picked up the small plastic bottle of hair coloring solution again after evaluating her hair, seeing an area that needed more treatment. She then said, “Besides, we aren’t that big here in the U.S…” Laura paused. “Not yet, anyways,” she added, raising her eyebrows at her sister. Laura massaged the coloring emulsion into her hair; a dark auburn, the Nice-N-Easy box described, was darkening quickly.
The two girls stood over a pair of vanity sinks in the outer bathroom of their hotel suite. They had each taken off their luxurious, complementary robes and were now wearing short—but oversized—tee shirts that scarcely covered half their bare thighs while they colored their hair. Malaysia’s tee shirt was so big around the collar it was falling down over the sloped curve of her shoulder.
In the mirror, Malaysia’s reflection revealed a small nose that was framed by two enchanting dimples. Laura’s face lacked those depressions but had equally exquisite milky-smooth skin as Malaysia had and both sisters lacked even a hint of freckles or blemishes.
“This is going to be so fun!” Malaysia whispered, her blue eyes dancing with excitement as she reached up continuing to work the viscous brown liquid into her own hair. “I can’t believe we are going to go to Disneyland…Alone!”
“You think Gen is going to be ticked off?” Laura asked with a sideways glance at her sister.
Malaysia wrinkled her nose. “Let her be mad. She doesn’t own us,” Malaysia said, sniffing the strong fumes of the coloring. “Hey, this stuff will wash out, right?” Malaysia asked suddenly with a little concern.
Laura picked up the box to show her sister the label. “See, right there,” her latex-gloved finger was pointing to the front of the hair color box. “‘Washes out in two shampoo treatments,’” Laura read the yellow letters along the bottom of the small box.
“Okay,” Malaysia said, a little relieved. “At least we don’t have a show for what, another six days?”
“Yes, Friday night,” Laura nodded in the mirror. “And, lucky for us, that show is right here in Anaheim at a place called ‘The Honda Center.’”
“Good. That will give us a few days to sight-see and learn about California. I really want to see the beach.”
Laura smiled. “No, you just want to see some California beach ‘BOYS’!”
“Hey…I’m entitled to look around!” Malaysia said, putting her hands on her hips, the bottom edge of her tee-shirt riding higher up on her slender legs.
“Remember who you are, missy,” Laura warned with a slight frown. “You are not just the average tourist.”
Malaysia, ignoring her sister’s comment, looked at her darkening hair in the mirror. “Missy…hmm, I like that name,” Malaysia said to herself. The hair color formula was quickly making her blonde hair look like a dark ash-brown brunette.
“Well, Sis…Today, we are GOING to be average tourists!” Malaysia said to her own reflection in the mirror.
After the girls showered, rinsing the rest of the color formula from their hair and using the conditioner that came with each box of hair color, they toweled off and took turns using the blow drier in the bathroom that was attached to the wall next to one of the sinks.
Now dressed in beige shorts, a navy blue tank top and a cropped jeans jacket, Laura came back into the bathroom as Malaysia was finishing brushing her hair. Having the same blond hair as her sister—when not artificially colored as it was now—Laura was just a bit taller and possessed a more athletic build. Where Laura’s beauty was more mature, Malaysia’s was more feminine. But, both were not just attractive, but possessed a ‘girl-next-door’ sex-appeal that didn’t shout—but whispered, sensuality.
Now, with different shades of colored hair, Laura and Malaysia both looked even more distinctive to each other.
“Wow, you do look different!” Laura said coming up to her sister’s side, watching Malaysia in the large bathroom mirror.
“I know I wouldn’t recognize you if I saw you in a crowd,” Malaysia said, looking at Laura’s reddish brown ‘do’ in the mirror while she continued brushing out her own hair. Laura was adjusting a royal blue baseball cap that had “LA” stitched in white on the front. She had no idea when she bought the caps at the same store where she got the hair color that the cap was a Los Angeles Dodger’s baseball team cap. Laura just wanted to look like a local and since she had seen a number of concert-goers wearing similar caps at the Hollywood Bowl the night before, she figured that the hat was a good pick.
Laura had pulled her hair back into a ponytail that was now pushed through the back of the cap. She looked several years younger than her twenty-three years of age.
“You definitely look younger,” Malaysia said, watching Laura swish her ponytail back and forth in front of the mirror.
“And you look older to me,” Laura said, admiring her sister’s darker brown hair that was freshly blown and full. Malaysia had put on white, curve-hugging shorts—which only accented her lovely figure, a loose-fitting, light-tan sleeveless top that had a V-neck and an attractive white lace trim.
Malaysia grabbed the “Angels” baseball cap from the counter and pulled it on, adjusting her hair by pulling it back behind her ears and pulling the bill of the cap down over her forehead a bit.
“I guess I do look older,” Malaysia agreed, turning her head left and right. She wore no makeup and didn’t need to.
“At least you got the right baseball cap,” Laura said, butting her hip against her sister’s playfully.
Malaysia turned her eyes upward, looking at the red, blue, and white emblem in the mirror. “Angels? Ha ha. Who are the ‘Angels’ anyway?”
“I think it is one of the baseball teams here in California. It was on a rack with my cap.”
“Do I look like an ‘Angel’?” Malaysia asked, batting her eye lids and looking innocent and demure.
Laura laughed. “Good luck pulling that off, Mal!”
“To all who come to this happy place: Welcome. Disneyland is your land. Here age relives fond memories of the past…and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future.”
The opening lines of Walt Disney’s dedication of Disneyland
July 17th, 1955
CHAPTER 6
“The Happiest Place on
Earth”
Saturday, June 24th 2010
9:40 am
On his drive to work, Disneyland cast member Blain Walters was listening to the radio, wondering what his day might be like. For Blain, working at Disneyland was like Forrest Gump’s proverbial ‘box of chocolates’…he never knew what each day would bring. Most days were like getting the ‘good stuff,’ not the nutty pieces that you toss out after one bite. Typical days working at Disneyland usually included being in a great mood, enjoying great weather, and more than once in a while, meeting some good looking ladies. However, Blain’s priorities were not necessarily in that order…but, he knew one certainly could affect the others!
Today, though he didn’t know it yet, he was going to reach in and pull out the best darn proverbial chocolate morsel in the box.
Tuned to 95.5 KLOS, the classic rock station which he grew up listening to thanks to his parents, Blain was in a great mood, typical for him on any given day, but more so as the warm, dry air from the Santa Ana winds that blew in yesterday made for a crystal clear morning today. The days when the Santa Ana’s blew always seemed to produce an odd sense of electricity in the air, not like electrical watts or volts, but electricity in the sense of potential for the unexpected.
