HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 2

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  “Who are you? What are you doing at Gracey Manor?”

  Peter wheeled around on his heels. There, at the edge of the graveyard, dressed in a flowing gown of white, stood a tall, beautiful woman. He could see her blonde hair was curled in ringlets as she pushed a wayward strand out of her eyes.

  It wasn’t the movement of her hand that made Peter faint and crumble into a heap on the graveled path. It was what he saw in her other hand: a bloody axe.

  “Peter!” Lance was frantic as he thrashed around in the river trying to find his son. Only about five and a half feet deep at the Mark Twain track, Lance slowly came to realize that Peter wasn’t trapped under the green water. Even though he didn’t want to believe it, he knew Peter had somehow followed Wolf wherever it was that he had gone. “What do I do?” He turned back to the canoe dock and heaved himself out of the now-quiet river. As he stared at the drenched uniform shirt Wolf had so carefully left behind, his heart beat even harder when another thought hit him. “What do I tell his mother?”

  When he reached for his cell phone to see if it still worked, an unexpected blast of cold air blew past Lance that showered him with more water. “What in the world….” He stared as Wolf suddenly reappeared in the river, floundered to get his bearings, and then clung tiredly to the dock. The rest of his uniform, for some reason, was clamped in his mouth.

  “Give me a hand, Lance.” After struggling to put his clothes up on the dock next to his stunned security partner, he held out a hand for assistance.

  “Where…where’s Peter!?” Ignoring the outstretched, hand, Lance looked from Wolf to the river and back again.

  Wolf forced his other eye open and looked strangely at Lance. “He’s with you. Help me up.” It wasn’t a request this time.

  Shaken with the implication, Lance got to his feet and helped lift his friend out of the river. Wide-eyed, he silently watched as Wolf got dressed, pulling his security uniform on over his dripping body. Once Wolf began to fasten the buttons of his shirt, Lance found his voice, but it was only a whisper. “He followed you into the river.”

  Wolf’s movements stopped and his head shot up. “That was five days ago. I was visiting my family and never saw him. You sure?”

  “Right after you…disappeared he jumped in the water to follow you. It was just minutes ago, Wolf. Not days. Where’s my son!?”

  Worried, Wolf looked toward the bend of the river where the Friendly Village sat—but his family was in another time and place. Unable to believe what he just heard, Wolf slowly shook his head. “Time moves differently back there.”

  “You have to go back, Wolf! You have to find Peter!”

  The violence of both passages had made Wolf weak. To go back so soon could possibly kill him. But, this was Peter. Peter was like a son to him. “Have you told his mother?”

  Lance ran a distraught hand over his eyes. “I was just about to call her when you…came back…reappeared…whatever it was that you did. I don’t know if my phone still works. It went into the river with me.”

  Pulling the security walkie-talkie off his belt, Wolf handed it to Lance. “Use this.”

  Lance’s finger hesitated over the green button that would instantly connect him to his wife. “I…I don’t know what to tell her.” His hand dropped away and fell limply to his side. “She warned me about this very thing.”

  “You have to tell her the truth. She knows what I…do. Just tell her.”

  Shaking his head as if he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, Lance pushed the Call button. Almost instantly the soft voice of Kimberly came over the receiver.

  “Hi, sweetheart. How did it go? Wolf get off all right?”

  “Kimberly, listen. There’s been an accident.…”

  “That might not have been the best word to use,” Wolf mumbled when he heard a high-pitched, frantic, “What accident!?” come through the earpiece.

  “No, no,” Lance tried to calm her. “Not an accident. It’s just that Peter accidentally followed Wolf through that…that…thing in the river.”

  “What? Are you kidding me? How could he ‘accidentally’ do that?”

  Caught off-guard, Lance stammered. “Um, well, he jumped in after Wolf. I had a good hold on him, Kimberly. I really did,” he insisted as he ran his other shaky hand through his hair. “But he pulled away and ran off the end of the dock before I could stop him. Wolf is just about to go back after him.”

  “Wolf’s back already? He just left. Well, that’s good, anyway. You have to go with him, Lance.” Kimberly was firm, her voice not even wavering. “You have to go find our son.”

  Looking at Wolf, Lance’s eyes were wide as he repeated what she said to his partner. “She wants me to go with you. Is that possible?” In his agitation he forgot that he had just seen Wolf disappear with the thief.

  “I heard.” Wolf was brief as his mind whirled with all the variables. It was difficult enough making the jump alone. But, of course it was possible. He had done it too many times to count. Once, years ago, he had taken Dr. Houser back to visit Walt Disney. Their friend Wals had gone through with Wolf’s brother Mato a few years back…. He nodded as he glanced up at the sky. “We have to go right now, though. It’s getting too late. It has to be dark when we return here. Hand me the walkie-talkie. I need to talk to Kimberly.”

  When Lance complied, Wolf took a couple of steps away and lowered his deep voice. “Does Lance know what happens when I make the jump?”

  There was silence at the other end. He knew Kimberly had shivered when she pictured it in her mind. “No. And neither does Peter. I…I never told them that part. I don’t think the doctor or Wals told him, either.”

  “I’ll fill him in. Don’t worry, Kimberly. Peter’s a smart boy. He’ll be fine.”

  She ignored his effort to ease her mind. “Find him, Wolf.”

  “We will. I promise.”

  Lance watched as Wolf ended the call and clipped the walkie-talkie back on his belt. “What was that all about? What happens when you make the jump?”

  Wolf gave a small smile. “I forgot your hearing is just about as good as mine.” Glancing up at the darkened sky one last time, Wolf gave an uncharacteristic sigh. How do you tell someone something like this? “I never told you my story, how I am able to do what I do. I’m going to tell you now but it will have to be the short version since we don’t have much time. Back when my mother was pregnant with me, she was stalked by a strange, powerful wolf. For some reason, that wolf wanted me dead, so he attacked my mother and bit her. She didn’t die right away, but I was…well…different when I was born. My eyes, for example, are the same color as the attacking wolf’s. When I was young, for fun my friends and I would pretend we were the animal for which we were named. But, something unique happened when I would howl like a wolf, something you’ve seen.” He paused to gesture at the river. “A storm would come—and scared the bejeebers out of my friends. Then, one day I went into the storm. And when I came out, it was a few decades earlier than when I went in.” He paused and thought back, a small grin appeared on his face and quickly vanished. “I saw who would be my father courting my mother. I tried to say something to them, but they tried to kill me. Because…whenever I go back through the swirling vortex, I always come out…as a wolf.”

  Lance just stood there and listened as he waited for Wolf to break into a silly grin and tell him he was just kidding. But, this was Wolf. He wasn’t known for his sense of humor. “You aren’t kidding.”

  Wolf just stared back at him, his head slightly tilted to one side.

  “Okay,” Lance ran a shaky hand through his dripping hair. “You aren’t kidding. How…how is that even possible?” He broke off and gave a small grin. “Though that might explain why I just saw you come back without any clothes on.”

  “Yes.” Wolf was silent as he started to unbutton the shirt he had just put on. How can I explain a phenomenon that’s still a mystery to me even after all this time? “We’re w
asting valuable time here. Listen, Lance. On many occasions, Walt said that fantasy and reality often overlap. Well, they’re not just going to overlap. They’re going to collide head-on. And we’ll be smack in the middle of it.” Without another word to his security partner, he tilted his head back and let out another hair-raising howl. Not even glancing at the dark clouds that immediately started to gather, he pulled off his shoes and socks and stuffed them under the seat of the first canoe tied to the dock. He knew Kimberly, as a watchful Guardian, would close down that part of Disneyland until they returned. No one would come and disturb his uniform—not that he didn’t have other clothes hidden here and there around the Park. “Are you ready?” He turned back to Lance who was both nervous and excited by the prospect of finally getting to do whatever it was that Wolf did. “Oh, and one more thing. Take something with you from this time period. Never let it out of your sight. The Island has a way of making people forget their past. And don’t ask how. I don’t understand that either. Just do it.” Wolf jumped back into the water and motioned for Lance to hurry. “Hang onto my shoulder and don’t let go—no matter what happens.”

  The Island — 1850

  Lance bit back his fear as the river angrily churned and finally closed over the top of them. He stifled a yell when the flesh of Wolf’s shoulder suddenly morphed into handful of black fur and he could see a dark muzzle push out of the water as the wolf struggled to breathe. The familiar blue eyes were now below silver-tipped ears and filled with determination to get through the storm that finally started to abate.

  The river was deeper now, wider with a strong current that pulled at them. The exhausted wolf angled away from the Island and headed for the southern riverbank. Now that they were through the vortex, Lance let go of the animal and concentrated on swimming. Without the extra burden of the man, the wolf was able to swim easier as his front legs tiredly cut through the water.

  A small boy stood on a log that protruded out over the river as he checked on a fishing trap hidden below the water, his shaggy white and black dog next to him. Waving a greeting to the wolf as he pulled himself out of the river and collapsed on the dirt, the boy looked back in surprise at the man who slowly followed.

  “Uncle Wolf!” His greeting was in their Lakota tongue. “You’re back already. Did you bring us another problem?”

  Lance couldn’t take his eyes off the huge black wolf who, only moments ago, had been his friend and security partner at Disneyland. The familiar blue eyes were now closed as he panted in exhaustion, dirty water dripping off his silver-tipped fur. In the middle of his wide chest was the odd white patch of fur—just like he had seen on Wolf’s chest before he jumped into the river. The sound of the boy’s voice startled him and Lance turned face to the young lad dressed in soft buckskin trousers and shirt. Thinking the boy was talking to him, he held his hands out to the side. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand you.”

  To Lance’s surprise, the wolf tiredly answered the boy in the same language. “Pahi, I see you’ve been listening to your grandfather again. No, he isn’t another problem. We’re looking for his lost son.”

  Forgetting the boy and the familiar scene from Frontierland, Lance stared back at the wolf. “You can talk.”

  The big head lifted to face him and gave a wolfish version of a smile. “Obviously,” he dryly stated in English as he struggled to his feet. “This is Pahi, my nephew.” Partially revived, Wolf was able to shake off his coat and send the dirty water over Lance and Pahi.

  “Thanks,” Lance muttered, wiping the extra mud off his face. “Mato’s boy?”

  “Yes, one of many.” He turned back to the boy who eyed Lance’s strange clothes. “Go tell your grandfather I’m back and will be there shortly. I’ll need your father as well.”

  With a nod, the boy whistled for his dog and they quickly disappeared into the forest.

  “Pahi?” Lance repeated the word slowly as he tried to work his tongue around the accent.

  Wolf turned back after the boy left. The second passage had exhausted him and he knew he would only be able to move at a slow trot—a pace Lance should have no trouble matching. “It means porcupine. His hair is always sticking up.” He saw that Lance had taken a couple of steps back when he stood. “You’re staring.” The natural expression on his face didn’t show he was kidding with Lance. Just for fun he slightly bared his fangs.

  Lance’s eyes widened before he could stop them. The normal human response of fear at suddenly being in the presence of a 120-pound, full grown, powerful predator had taken over. He tried to hide his reaction and act cool. “No, I wasn’t…I was just…well, of course…you’re fine…I….” He broke off when the fangs were hidden and the wolf’s shoulders began to shake. “You’re laughing at me.”

  The wolf chuckled. “You should see your face!”

  “Hey, this is kinda new to me.” Going on the defense, Lance put his hands on his hips. “You don’t exactly look like a cute, cuddly puppy, you know.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” Wolf mumbled as he stretched out to full length.

  “I heard that.” Eyes narrowed, he came to the realization that Wolf was still messing with him. “How about if I give you a nice scratch behind your ears and rub your tummy?”

  The fangs reappeared and Wolf was pleased to see the smug look on Lance’s face vanish. “We need to get going. We won’t find Peter standing here. Follow me. I need to talk to my father, the Shaman.”

  “The Shaman.” Lance pictured in his mind the audio-animatronic figure on the Frontierland River. “Of course he’s your father.”

  They were silent as they worked their way through the dense forest, the river always on their right. Lance was surprised it took so long to get to the camp. On the Rivers of America, the village was just a short distance past the protruding log. He had to keep reminding himself they weren’t in Disneyland any longer.

  They finally arrived at a large clearing and Lance came to a sudden stop, his eyes wide with recognition. There were several tipis scattered around the village. Close by was a wooden rack with an animal hide stretched out to dry. In the middle of the camp, a tall woman stood next to a large pot hanging over the campfire as she slowly stirred the contents. Busy at different tasks, several younger girls worked around her. At the far end of the clearing, under a rocky overhang, stood a tall man wearing a wolf headdress and a colorful blanket draped over his shoulders. He talked and gestured to the four braves seated in front of him as they intently listened to his story. Lance knew the standing man would be the Shaman, the leader of the village, a wise man—and Wolf’s father.

  “It’s the Pinewood Village.” Lance suddenly had to sit and found a log near the outer edge of the camp. His head jerked when a wild mustang whistled from a corral nestled behind the tipis. “Incredible. This village looks like the one I know at Disneyland. It’s almost the same.” After looking over at the rack of bark canoes stacked near the river, he saw the small beat-up canoe from the Hungry Bear Restaurant tied next to them. That link to the ‘real’ world startled Lance and made him remember why he was there. He glanced around the camp to see where the wolf—Wolf, he mentally corrected himself with an unbelieving shake of the head—had gone.

  As he sat on the rocky ground behind the four braves seated in a semicircle, Wolf waited for his father to finish his story. Hoping it wasn’t one of the longer stories of their people being passed down to the next generation, he tried not to show any impatience as he sat. If the Shaman saw any sign of disrespect from any of them, the story would suddenly double in length.

  “Atewaye ki.” The wolf nodded his head to his father when the last of the braves filed past him, secretly relieved the story was over and they could now eat with their families.

  “You say ‘My father’ with the utmost respect. You must want something.” The Shaman’s hidden eyes smiled as he teased his son. “You’re back so soon. Did you miss me or did you just miss Cooking Woman’s fine stew?”

/>   The wolf’s mouth opened in a toothy grin. “Both.” He nodded over in the direction of Lance, who was still dumbfounded at the sight in front of him. “That’s a friend from my other world. His son followed me through the osiceca and we came back to look for him. Did you happen to see anyone come after me this last time?”

  The wolf headdress shook slowly back and forth as the older man thought back. “No, there was only the thief you left in the town. What does this boy look like?”

  “Just like him, only younger. He is thirteen summers.”

  The Shaman grimaced. “Hmph. Not a good age to go through that.”

  Wolf nodded in agreement. “Where’s my brother? I hoped he would help us.”

  Looking away, his father gave a small snort. “Yes, I’m sure you do, as Mato knows more of your other language than he lets on to me.”

  “Is he here?” Wolf ignored the older man’s displeasure. They had had this argument too many times before and he didn’t have time to get into it again. “I asked Pahi to fetch him.”

  “Then I’m sure he will.” The Shaman was curt as he turned to leave. When he approached the fire, the Cooking Woman handed him a plate of stew. Taking it to Lance, who eyed it warily, the older man held out the plate. It took a couple of heartbeats before the newcomer took it from his hands. “Taŋyáŋ yahí.” The wolf headdress tilted toward him once and then he walked off again.

  Taking the wooden plate only because he knew it was expected of him, Lance didn’t realize he had just been welcomed to the camp. Muttering, “Gracias,” he held back from smacking his forehead when he realized he replied in Spanish.

  Wolf knew his father was still angry that Mato had journeyed into his other world—even though it had saved his life. Mato had adapted quickly and seemed to enjoy some of the luxuries of modern life. Wolf was sure his brother had tried to hide that fact, but their father was pretty astute. He walked over to Lance who was still staring dubiously at the food on the plate. “It’s only venison, Lance. You can eat it.”