HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 4

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  “Right, Lance. Rappelling into a Disney warehouse in the middle of the night was fun. I remember the look on your face when the sirens started wailing.”

  “You guys got caught? You didn’t tell me that part!”

  The two men turned at the sound of Peter’s intrigued voice. “We didn’t get caught,” was said at the same time by both of them.

  “Jinx.”

  “Funny, Lance. What are you? Thirteen?”

  “Hey! I’m standing right here.”

  “No offense, Pete.”

  “We’re getting nowhere fast.” Kimberly rang the ship’s bell again while Beth and the younger boys held their hands over their ears.

  When order was again restored, Kimberly asked Peter to read his clue out loud so they could all try to make sense out of it.

  “You want adventure? I’ll give you adventure. But, we need to make a deal before you accept my challenge. If I give you the treasure you seek, will you give me my heart’s desire? The first clue to my heart’s desire is this: A red as deep as blood.

  “If you accept, you must climb to new heights. The pink Moroccan face is carved, its two windows barred.

  “Don’t break your neck.”

  There was complete silence when Peter quit reading. He looked up expectantly as if the adults should now see his wisdom and agree they needed to go to Florida. What he saw instead were four confused looks.

  “That doesn’t sound like Walt.” All eyes turned to Beth, but she didn’t notice. She was still contemplating the odd wording. When she did look around, she could only shake her head. “He sounds so…so, I don’t know. What? Angry? Demanding? It’s so different than what we all got.”

  “Can I see it, Pete?” Lance held out his hand and read it over himself. Peter hadn’t added to or left anything out. That was what it said. “What do you make of the handwriting, Beth? You’re the expert.”

  “Hey, I’m the one who collects Walt’s autographs,” Adam reminded him.

  Lance covered the word ‘Fake’ with a cough.

  Adam heard him and let it pass. He had paid a couple thousand dollars for a signed picture that Beth immediately knew was a forgery. It had been fourteen years since the discovery and Lance still wasn’t about to let it go.

  Beth let the guys banter while she examined the writing, her fingers testing the feel of the paper. It certainly looked authentic, but, somehow, slightly off. She felt something was not quite right about it, but she couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. She passed the note along to Adam, mainly out of courtesy. “It kind of looks right. Maybe Walt was having a bad day or not feeling well. If this was written closer to 1966 when he died, perhaps his style changed. Who else would it be from?”

  Peter, anxious for any sign that he could keep going with the hunt, jumped on her last words. “It has to be from Walt. We found it in my apartment on Main Street. No one else would know it was there, right?” They could hear the hope in his voice.

  “Wish Uncle Wolf was here. He would know all about this.”

  “Still haven’t heard from him?” Surprised by Peter’s words, Adam turned to Lance for confirmation.

  Since Adam, Beth, and their children didn’t know anything about the Guardians of Walt, or even the secret room upstairs, the Brentwoods had to be speak carefully. Kimberly tried to keep it light when she answered Adam. “I’m sure he’s just making sure Omah knows she can’t come back and threaten the kids ever again. Once that’s done, I’m sure we’ll hear from him. Or maybe he just went to visit his family.” She repressed a slight shiver knowing how Wolf usually took care of problems. And a trip back to his family—through a terrifying time portal—was the usual way.

  “So, are we going to Walt Disney World or not?” Tired of the chatter, Peter wanted to know for sure that he could get to work on the clue’s actual location. He was sure ‘Moroccan face’ meant the Morocco Pavilion in Epcot’s World Showcase. He’d just have to figure out the where part once they got there.

  “Not. Walt didn’t have anything to do with the actual building in Florida, as we told you earlier. You know that, Pete.” Lance looked at the clue still in Adam’s hands. “It has to be somewhere in Disneyland. You just need to figure out where.”

  “Awww.” The chorus of five young voices made the adults smile behind their hands. A trip to Florida would be nice and they would probably plan one for next summer, now that they thought about it. Not that they would tell the kids yet, of course. They would never hear the end of it until they actually boarded the airplane nine or ten months from then.

  “But, Dad, we looked online and some of the buildings in the Morocco Pavilion are pink. Not sure why,” Peter added in a mumble. “That has to be the answer.”

  Lance thought he knew the correct location, but would let the kids find it themselves. “You’ll figure it out.”

  As Peter and Catie filed out, Alex chose to stay with the adults. Once he learned he wouldn’t be going to Walt Disney World and ride Expedition Everest and Test Track, he lost interest in the clue search. “Can I play a game of pool, Uncle Lance?”

  “Sure, that’s a good idea. Let’s give this a rest while those two work it out.” Glad for the distraction, Lance stood from the sofa and motioned for the abandoned younger kids. “Come on, Michael, Andrew. You can help me mess up Uncle Adam’s shots!”

  As the men left for the billiards room, Kimberly and Beth looked at each other.

  “Rats. Florida sounded like fun.”

  “I know!”

  The Great Northern Plains

  Alone with his still-sleeping adversary, Wolf stood in the entry of the messy cave. The low position of the sun told him it was early morning. Exhausted, they both must have slept through the previous afternoon and all night.

  After the uncomfortable dampness of Omah’s cave, the warmth in the air was welcome. Eyes closed, he lifted his face to the source of the heat, allowing the blanket to fall from his bare shoulders. Motionless, moments passed as the heat soaked into his abused body.

  An unwelcomed snicker interrupted his tranquility. “Working on your tan? I would’ve thought you’d be working on your sadly lacking travel skills.”

  Wolf’s eyes remained shut as the fiery red light from the sun circled and danced behind his eyelids. “I’m surprised you’re awake. It isn’t noon yet.”

  “You know, if someone attacked you right now, you’d be as good as blind after staring into the sun like that.”

  Wolf still didn’t move. The last thing he needed was advice on his survival skills. “You could always protect me with that cute little knife in your shoe.”

  She wasn’t going to take the bait. “Perhaps it would be me attacking. Then what would you do?”

  One eye cracked open to look at her. He would never admit that she was a cloudy, wavering mass of red. “Do you require another demonstration of what I can do? I’d be happy to oblige.”

  Omah didn’t answer as she took a bite of the deer jerky in her hand. Still stiff from getting pinned to the ground those two times, she could hardly move. “Let’s just save that for later. Are you hungry?”

  “Steak and eggs would be good. You cook?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve been known to.” When no one else was around and it was the only option to keep me from starving to death. “I was going to offer you some jerky.”

  Wolf, his eyes back to normal, looked at the black thing she held out to him. “What is that? A burnt offering?”

  “Hey, it’s not that bad. It’s teriyaki.”

  Wolf raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “No.”

  His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Thought that sounded too good to be true.” Wolf held out a reluctant hand for the meat. After taking a bite, he winced. “Tell you what, you show me how to travel correctly and I’ll have the Cooking Woman from my tribe show you how to cook correctly.”

  “At least you’re admitting that you don’t travel the right way. That’s a start.”
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br />   Unable to swallow what was in his mouth, Wolf walked to the edge of the clearing and spat the wad as far as he could. “I have a feeling that’ll still be lying there when the next Ice Age comes.”

  “Are you always this charming when you’re hungry?”

  “It’s been ten minutes and you still haven’t taken another bite. Point made.”

  Omah shrugged her shoulders as she stared at the jerky in her hand. “I hate it when you’re right.” With a mighty hurl, the meat was thrown in the same direction as Wolf’s. “It was my first attempt at jerky.”

  “How long ago?” Knowing how difficult it was for a tribe to find fresh meat, Wolf couldn’t believe someone would desecrate it like that.

  Five years. Taking a moment to dig some dirt from under her fingernails, Omah didn’t answer. “Why don’t we get back to something important rather than my cooking skills?”

  “Skills?”

  Having had enough buttons pushed, her anger, never too far away, finally resurfaced. Eyes flashing, she whirled at him and snapped, “Enough, Wolf! You have things you do well. I have things I do well. We can bicker all day or we can try to teach you something.”

  Wolf held up a placating hand that irritated her more than it calmed. He, too, didn’t want another fight. Even though he had somehow come back to her past as a man, he figured she could transform him into a wolf again if she so desired. Plus, he had a firm conviction that members of her Blackfoot tribe were always watching, hidden within the shadowy depths of the forest. That was what his Lakota tribe would do and he had no reason to doubt hers would do the same. He didn’t fear them, but knew they would rush to her defense if it appeared he would hurt her. Absentmindedly rubbing the fresh spear prick in his side, he didn’t need any more of those. He was tired of fighting.

  During his silence, her sharp eyes went from his upraised hand to the one placed over the angry, red welt. As her eyes moved over his muscular torso, there were more scars to be seen. Her anger faded. A normal man would never have marks like that on his body. Until she had learned how to control whether or not she appeared as a wolf, she, too, had been hunted and hurt. They had both been through a lot in their lives. And now it was time to help him. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to be hurt again.

  Wolf saw when the anger drained away from her, wondering what prompted the change. As her eyes slowly moved over his bare chest, he understood and tensed, waiting for the pity or shock his friends usually displayed when they saw the unexplainable battle scars. But, that didn’t happen this time with Omah. What he saw instead was understanding. “You, too?”

  At first she didn’t comprehend what he asked. Her eyes rose to his impassive, waiting face as he stared back at her. It took a moment, but, then she gave him a brief nod. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t remove my shirt to show you my back. But, yes, I have similar marks.” She slowly walked up to Wolf to put a tentative hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t shove it away as she half expected, she gave a light squeeze. “Let’s fix it so that doesn’t happen anymore.”

  His large hand covered hers. “That sounds good to me. What do we need to do? What’s first?”

  Surprised by his touch, Omah stepped back out of reach. When his hand fell back to his side, she felt deprived of its warmth. “Well, to be honest, I’ve never had to teach anyone before.” Arms folded over her chest, she quickly turned away to hide whatever conflicting emotions her face might betray. She’d have to analyze her reaction to his touch later. A slight movement in the forest caught her eye, distracting her from her confusing thoughts. With a slight flutter of her hand, Omah signaled her hidden sister that all was well. In all that had been going on, she had forgotten her tribe was always close by.

  “In case you wondered, I saw her, too.”

  “Just now?” Omah gave a little laugh. “Kiaayo is usually more discreet than that.”

  “Maybe she can get me something to eat….”

  The warm, odd feelings of a moment ago were forgotten as Omah shot a less-than-friendly glare at him. When she saw the smile on Wolf’s face, she relaxed, realizing he was joking. “And they say you don’t have a sense of humor.”

  “Who says that?”

  “Everyone you work with at Disneyland.”

  That stopped him. He had to think back. “I keep forgetting you worked at Disneyland. Nothing about you screams the happiest place on earth.”

  She let that slide. “I knew about you when I was a mermaid in the Submarine Lagoon.” A womanly grin played over her face. “All the girls knew about you. You were quite the man of mystery.”

  “Still am.”

  “I suppose that’d be true. Walt sure was fond of you.”

  A brief look of sadness passed over Wolf. “It was mutual.” When he realized what she had just said, he frowned. “You talked to Walt about me?”

  Omah gave another shrug. “I knew you were more than just a security guard. It was obvious to me, more so than anyone else, because I was more than just a mermaid. I didn’t know about your traveling abilities, of course. Just that there was something different about you. For me, the job was a means to an end.”

  Wolf let that sink in. He had known Walt had used other people in various capacities. Wolf worked with Kimberly’s father to get the clue searches in place and helped see that Walt’s visions of the future came true. As Guardians of Walt, as they came to call themselves, it was their job and their privilege to protect their boss. “What was your other work?”

  Omah had hoped that her past failure wouldn’t come up again. The fiasco had sent her from Walt’s good graces to Florida where she had to wait out the building of Walt Disney World to get her position back. Then, when Walt suddenly died in 1966, her hopes of finally proving her worth to him came to an end. It had snapped her power of reason and she became fanatical in her attempt to bring that clue search to the end Walt had wanted. She had to relive all of those bitter memories after she found Peter and Catie in the Haunted Mansion with the object she had spent decades trying to find. And Wolf had been witness to her breakdown while he relentlessly pursued her as she used Peter to track down the mermaid. When she finally spoke, she looked embarrassed. “You know about my search for the mermaid all those years.” Without waiting for his reply, she just forged ahead. “I had been assigned to help Walt set up a clue hunt. Whoever found the hidden clues would be rewarded at the end if they could figure out the riddles he put in place. It was a pretty easy hunt and Margaret, Catie’s grandmother….”

  “I know who Margaret is.”

  Her train of thought broken, Omah momentarily looked confused. “Of course you do. Anyway, it got all messed up and I could never find the mermaid once the Submarine captains started hiding her. It never got back on track and I…I failed Walt. He sent me to Florida.”

  Wolf was stunned as the implications of what she just said and what she had said to Peter slowly became apparent. Back in 1965 there had been a search Walt set up without him. It had bothered him that Walt used someone else, but, that was Walt. He always had more than one iron in the fire. Questions began to pour into Wolf’s mind: Did Walt originally plan on having her work with him and the Blond-Haired Man? What would have happened if her quest had been fulfilled?Had Walt been setting her up to become another Guardian?

  “Why do you look like that? You look like I just stepped on your puppy.”

  Her voice snapped him out of his daze. Her question ignored, he asked instead, “Did Walt ever say what the end result would be?”

  “I already told you. The person who followed the quest to the end would get some sort of prize. Knowing Walt, probably some piece of animation.”

  Wolf licked his dry lips. “No. I meant what your end result would be?”

  “Oh.” Omah had to shrug. “I figured he’d use me again for different things over the years. Different positions of trust. He never really said. Then, when he died, well, that kinda ended everything for me.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Wolf. There seemed to be so m
uch that he wasn’t saying. It was written all over his usually expressionless face. “Did you know about those treasure hunts? I always had the feeling that mine wasn’t the first. Did he use you, too?”

  How much do I tell her? A Guardian is effective because of the anonymity. Walt had said nothing to me or to Kimberly’s father about Omah. “Yes. I had set up a Hidden Mickey hunt or two myself.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Why did Walt do it? Did he use you later for other things?”

  Wolf just nodded. “Yes. We had a close relationship. I would help him do whatever he needed.”

  “And I missed out on that because I failed with the mermaid.” Not realizing he hadn’t really answered her, bitterness over the past slipped back into Omah’s voice. “Everything would have been so different.” About to continue her rant, a confused look slowly began to overshadow her anger. Mouth clamped shut, she walked to the edge of the clearing to stare out over the trees.

  Becoming used to her mercurial changes of mood, Wolf just waited. “What’s wrong?”

  Slowly turning back, Omah’s face was still a puzzle. “I just had another thought. Now there’s another thing we have in common: the wolf attacking our pregnant mothers, the ability to travel through time, and that we both worked with Walt on secret plans.” She turned away again. “Don’t you think that’s odd?”

  “I never thought about that. But, you’re right.”

  A smile briefly crossed her lips. “I’ll add that to my ever-growing list of things I’m right about.” The smile was gone as quickly as it came and the seriousness returned. “Do you think it’s all related?”

  “That our mothers were both attacked by the same wolf and we ended up working for Walt? Sounds more like a coincidence. An odd coincidence, but a coincidence just the same. Look at how many employees have worked for Disney over the decades. There has to be a lot of shared traits in there somewhere.”

  Running a hand through her messy red hair, Omah began to pace in front of her cave, the plans to help Wolf shoved aside. “Possibly. Possibly. But.…” She broke off as another idea suddenly surfaced.