Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  “The lightning stopped,” the Blond-Haired Man quietly remarked as he turned away from the latticework.

  Walt paled. “Then they made it through.”

  New Orleans – 1814

  Rough hands pulled the doctor up onto the wharf. “Are you all right, sir? How’d y’all fall in the water?”

  “Maybe he’s drunk, Silas,” commented the second voice. “Set him down here on the dock.”

  “Dr. Houser,” he was able to mumble, trying to rub the water out of his eyes.

  “You be needing a doctor? I don’t see no bleeding.”

  He could feel the two men staring at him. Where was…where was…who was supposed to be here with him? They were supposed to go through together.… He couldn’t remember. “No. I am a doctor. French Quarter?” His mind was jumbled. “My bag?”

  “Uh, you be holding a bag in your other hand. Is that your doctor bag?” One of the strangers squatted down beside him, a look of concern on his weathered face.

  Claude looked down at his left hand. His knuckles were white as they gripped the handle of his soggy briefcase. He had to mentally tell himself to relax his fingers. “I thought I was with someone, but I can’t remember….” He broke off when he saw a large white boat tied up to the wharf beside him. Startled, he tried to get to his feet. Seeing how shaky he was, the other two men assisted him into a standing position. “That’s the Mark Twain. I didn’t make it?” He frantically looked around, trying to peer into the darkness. The area was illuminated only by flickering torches. He could barely see crates and barrels and some kind of wooden wheelbarrow. “New Orleans Square should be all lit up. Where are all the lights?”

  “You musta hit your head pretty good,” the dock worker mumbled. “Yeah, this here is the Mark Twain. She’s done tied up for the night. Supposed to make a run to Rainbow Ridge tomorrow. Jonah, you ever heard it called New Orleans Square?”

  The other man scratched his head. “Nope. Just New Orleans, or N’awlins. There ain’t no doctor in the French Quarter. If’n he is who he says he is, they sure could use one. It’s kinda late, but y’think maybe Madam Annette will have a room for him?”

  “You think you can walk, Doc?” The hands that had been holding up the doctor eased away. When he didn’t fall back into the muddy river, they figured he was good to go.

  “What did you say your name was?” Jonah asked as the three men finally got moving down the wooden wharf. “You know, just in case I need a doctor some day.”

  “Dr. Houser. Dr. Claude Houser.” He continued walking between the two men, his confused eyes focused on the distant flickering lights of the city. His name and profession seemed to be the only concrete reality he could grasp as his fingers tightened around the handle of his medical bag. “Dr. Houser,” he whispered to himself as the wooden wharf gave way to a dirt road and the smells of the River fell behind. The ache in his head lessened as he breathed in the fresher air. His fuzzy memory of the flashing lights and the angry water faded as he neared the busy port city of 20,000 residents.

  Behind the doctor, out of sight behind a stack of crates labeled “Fort Wilderness” and completely forgotten, Wolf shook the muddy water off of his body. His eyes were thoughtful. “He seemed to be pretty disoriented already.” Wolf swore softly to himself. “Was hoping that wouldn’t happen this time. Nothing I can do about it now.… Madam Annette’s? That’s a good place.” He nodded in the darkness. “Now I’ll know where to find him.” He looked up at the moon, partly obscured behind patchy clouds of gray fog. “Need to get back. I have a thief to catch…and I really need to stop talking to myself.”

  Dr. Houser, Silas, and Jonah suddenly stopped walking. The howl of a wolf floated over them, carried on the misty air. It lingered for a moment before finally fading from their ears. Without a word to each other, unconsciously huddling their shoulders, their pace quickened as they hurried toward the sleeping city.

  Disneyland – 1966

  “Bubbling pots of mud. Of all the stupid places….” Wolf stared disgustedly at the twelve brightly colored holes that were in Nature’s Wonderland, part of the popular Mine Train ride in Frontierland. Built up to look like natural pools of mud, each pot had its own air jet from a hidden compressor that led to a metal plate under the surface that collected the air and finally released it to make a large, visible bubble in the thick colored mud. Behind the pots were the geysers, including the largest, “Old Unfaithful—because you never know when she might blow!”

  He set down the black bag that contained the $100,000 ransom money that Walt had gotten from cashing in some of the treasure he had found on Tobago back in 1960. He had gotten the Blond-Haired Man use his authority to shut down that area of Frontierland, and now he had approximately thirty minutes before the Mine Train Ride would start up again.

  Wolf walked around each hole, hoping to see some disturbed soil that might indicate something was buried rather than hidden inside the mud. When it became obvious that wasn’t the case, he knew he would have to search each one of the holes. Arms folded across his chest, he glared at the mud pots. The largest were mostly red, yellow and blue pots. There were also a few green and white ones thrown in for nice effect. Looking for some color out of place on the hard-packed ground, Wolf wanted to find a tell-tale drip that would show which pot he needed to search. Again, he found nothing out of place. Removing the doctor’s overcoat, he rolled up the sleeves of the white dress shirt he had worn instead of his tell-tale uniform. He tried the smallest pot, one of the red ones, first.

  The mud pots were deceptively deep. He was able to reach the metal shelf that dispersed the bubbles. Not finding anything but rocks and the air jets and a few coins tossed in by passing train riders, he tried the other two red ones since his arms seemed to be stained red with dye now. Again he found nothing unusual. Wiping off as much red residue as he could, he tried the largest blue pot. His fingers touched something smooth and square with a large rock on top of it. Frowning, he pulled out a blue-stained plastic sandwich container. Figuring he was probably being watched by the unknown thief, he tugged the doctor’s hat lower on his face and held the container up in the air. “I found it, you dirty….” Hearing the sharp whistle of the Mine Train echo in the approaching tunnel, Wolf scooped up the overcoat and the money bag and hurried behind the colorful layered rocks that lined the railroad tracks. The geysers started spouting as he ducked down out of sight and settled with his back against the red and yellow rocks that looked as if they had been transplanted from Utah’s beautiful canyon land.

  The bright yellow Mine Train engine came to a stop just short of his hiding place as Old Unfaithful grandly took to the air, sending a fine mist of water over the passengers seated in the open train cars. Once the geyser stopped, the train continued on its way through the Balancing Rocks and disappeared into the waiting tunnel and the lovely Rainbow Caverns.

  Wolf pulled open the sandwich container with his now blue fingers. He found the plastic was filled with sand and dirt, obviously to weigh down the container so it would not float to the surface. He glanced at the dirt at his feet and noticed that it wasn’t the same as the dirt in the container. Reaching in with his fingers, he found a buried piece of paper. He couldn’t help but notice that it was written in the same handwriting as the first note. “Hello, Doctor, I want you to wait three days. Then leave the money in the ‘microwave oven’—like that would really work—and your ruby will be where it tells you to go. If you are not followed, that is.”

  “Microwave oven? What the heck is that?” Wolf mumbled to himself as he headed for a nearby access tunnel used for the trains. This tunnel would put him on a road going around most of the Park that the maintenance workers used to remain unseen by the Park’s guests. It would also give him time to think. “Why am I smelling eucalyptus again?” he wondered, bringing the container up to his sensitive nose. Glancing around, he saw only pine tree needles and some kind of oak. He put the container out of sight in the pocket of the doctor’s overcoat.
“Where are there ovens in the Park other than the restaurants? Does he work in one of the restaurants?” Wolf had more questions than answers right now. And, he had only three days to figure out the puzzle and then make the drop. Realizing he was still probably being watched, he headed for Main Street and would leave the Park the same way the guests would so that hopefully his real identity would remain undetected. He couldn’t very well go back to the Security office. After all, he was supposed to be Dr. Houser.

  During the next three days, Wolf was busy visiting the various kitchens of the nicer restaurants in the Park. As he didn’t know who the man was that he was seeking, he was careful with his questions. Since his intuition told him his quarry was a man, he decided to only ask the women servers. The women were more than happy to assist the tall, dark mysterious security officer—the same women he had been eluding for years.

  The answer he was receiving was the same everywhere he went. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What’s a microwave oven?”

  Frustrated, Wolf started going to some of the restaurants outside of Disneyland. Again, no one could tell him anything that helped him locate this mysterious oven, or anything that helped him identify the mysterious thief. With the days counting down, he figured he might need a little help, so he headed to the home of the Blond-Haired Man in the Fullerton Hills. If Wolf had been seen inside Walt’s apartment with the other men, it would not do to be seen with him inside Disneyland. He navigated the curves with ease in his brand new Mustang. It was the only item he owned that he had bought solely for vanity.

  Smiling as he drove, he thought back to the day when he had dropped into the McCoy Ford dealership on West Lincoln Avenue there in Anaheim. The new ’67 models had just come out a few months earlier and there it was…a bright red 1967 Mustang GT, the Fastback model. It had two wide racing stripes running over the hood all the way to the tail end of the car. Hearing the roar of the 427 engine, it just spoke to him. He had settled into the black bucket seat and immediately demanded, “Lé mázaska tóna he?” to Richard, the confused salesman. With a silly grin on his face, Wolf didn’t even realize he had reverted to his native tongue. “Never mind the price. I’ll take it!”

  He roared to a stop outside the hilltop mansion. Like all his neighbors, the Blond-Haired Man had heard him coming. “This is a heck of a car, Wolf,” he commented as he slowly walked around the machine.

  “My father will be pleased to know I still have a Mustang,” Wolf kidded. “My brother Mato’s mustang isn’t nearly this fast.”

  Knowing Wolf wasn’t still talking about cars, his boss smiled to himself. Figuring his friend didn’t come by just to show him the new car, he asked, “How is your investigation coming? Any leads yet?”

  Wolf’s rare levity faded. He grimaced and looked away. “There are a few conflicting elements I’m trying to work around. I know he has to be a worker within the Park; I’m just narrowing down the areas I think he might be in. I do need some help, though,” he admitted as he pulled out the paper found inside the sandwich container. “For the life of me I can’t figure out what a microwave oven is. I’ve asked around in ten different restaurants and no one knows. How can I make the drop if I don’t know what it is and where I need to go?”

  Arms folded across his chest, his boss gave a broad grin. “I’ve never seen you flummoxed before, Wolf. This is a historic occasion.”

  Wolf snorted. “Glad to see you’re finding humor in this. I was under the assumption there was a lot at stake here.”

  The Blond-Haired Man put a friendly hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Wolf,” he stated with an understanding grin. “And, yes, you are correct. This isn’t a time to be joking around. I’m assuming you didn’t check out the ‘Atoms for Living Kitchen’?”

  Wolf gave him a glaring stare and said nothing.

  Unfazed by the surly reaction, his boss grinned again. “Monsanto House of the Future. In Tomorrowland?”

  He could see recognition settle onto Wolf’s face. “That big, ugly, plastic thing? Oh, of course. But, what is a microwave oven?” the security guard asked, referring to the note again.

  “Best not let Walt hear you call it a big, ugly, plastic thing...,” he coughed, and then shrugged. “Best explanation I’ve heard is that it can cook food in minutes using some kind of rays.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Not my area of expertise or interest. Monsanto or somebody else must be working on one for Walt to add it as an appliance in his House of the Future.”

  Wolf was still unimpressed. “At least now I know where to go. Whatever it is….”

  It was already one day beyond the prescribed waiting period. Dressed in the same coat and hat as before, Wolf entered the distinctive four-winged plastic house sitting at the entrance of Tomorrowland. He had to wait—somewhat impatiently—as a few guests inside finished their walking tour and left the building. Climbing over the ineffective rope barrier that deterred guests from going too far into the kitchen, he was relieved to find an envelope waiting inside a futuristic-looking oven that was supposed to cook an entire meal in just minutes. “If they say so,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. Looking around quickly to see if there were any new guests entering the building, Wolf stuffed the black bag that held the ransom money inside the oven, locking the door with a small combination lock that had been dangling from the latch. Not at all interested in the Bathroom of Tomorrow, he went back outside and found an empty bench on which to sit and read the next set of instructions he hoped was inside.

  He held up the envelope and held out his other arm, hopefully indicating to the unknown perpetrator that he was alone and not followed. Opening the envelope, he pulled out a single piece of lined paper. “Good work, Doctor Houser. Yes, I know who you are. If all the money is there, the ruby will be waiting for you in another three days. Look for the out-of-place cabbage at Casey Jr. But I’m warning you, Doc, if I see anything that makes me feel uneasy after this is all done, I promise you this—you’re a dead man.”

  As Wolf sat there pondering the next three-day wait, a fellow security guard, Michael, rushed up. “Wolf? Is that you? Nice hat. There’s an urgent call. The entire force has been out looking for you.”

  Hoping his cover wasn’t blown, Wolf immediately stood and melted into the crowd in Tomorrowland, knowing Michael would follow. “Slow down, Michael. What happened?”

  Taking a deep breath did nothing to calm Michael. Worry and concern were etched on his young face. “It’s Walt. He’s in the hospital.”

  Wolf sat quietly in a plastic waiting room chair, just outside the hospital room’s door. To occupy his mind, he pondered over who would possibly have had access to the view into Walt’s apartment, and thought about the different people to whom he had already spoken. Clues to the identity of the blackmailer were swirling around in his mind. Not wanting to leave his post outside the door, he hadn’t taken the time to see if the red diamond pendant was really buried in Fantasyland. He watched everyone coming and going, making mental notes of anyone not familiar to him.

  The Blond-Haired Man exited the room and indicated for Wolf to follow him. He just slowly shook his head when Wolf looked to him for some word of progress. When they were in a private spot, he told Wolf, “He’s asking for the pendant. ‘One last time’ he says. I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, Wolf. You know what it will probably show…” he broke off, emotion choking his voice.

  “Well, I have no problem with it. If he wants it, he should have it. He might see something good, something hopeful.” Wolf wasn’t sure either. The mysterious diamond had never worked for him. He had never seen his own future, or anything else for that matter, when he touched it. “I think I’m closing in on who did this,” Wolf told his friend who was lost in his own thoughts.

  The blond head shot up. “Really? You know who it is?”

  “Well, I think I have narrowed it down to two possible departments he worked, or is still working in. For a while, with the direct
ions to a microwave oven, I was thrown off the trail, thinking he might be a kitchen employee. But that sand and dirt that filled the first plastic box kept coming back to me, and there were those smells….” He broke off at the look on his friend’s face. Sometimes people just don’t want to know all the details. “Anyway, I’m now convinced that he has to be either a Maintenance man or a Groundskeeper. I’m not sure which, though. Either department would have given him easy access to the places he sent me…and for watching Walt’s apartment. Remember, Walt said he was looking at the pendant on the patio that looked out toward the Jungle Cruise. He mentioned he saw someone trimming those eucalyptus trees….”

  “I can make some inquiries.”

  Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “No, I want to finish this. And, Walt will have his pendant tomorrow. I’ll bring it to your house tonight.” Then, he remembered it was past the three days when he was supposed to retrieve it. “I just hope this guy followed through and put it where he said he would.”

  The Blond-Haired Man opened his mouth to voice his reluctance, but, at the look on Wolf’s face, closed it again. He briefly nodded and turned to go back to the hospital room. There was still a lot of work to be done.

  “It all started with a moose.”

  The words were mumbled, faint. It took too much effort to chuckle at his own private joke, but the corners of his eyes crinkled as a smile passed over his pale lips.

  The only other person in the room glanced up from the paperwork in front of him, a wave of sympathy and grief flooded his face before he could say anything to the man lying on the hospital bed. He self-consciously coughed to clear the lump in his throat. How am I ever going to be able to carry this off? he thought to himself before speaking. “You say something, Walt?” he managed to ask out loud.

  Walt’s eyes drifted back to the present and rested on the man peering anxiously at him. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, a gesture that rose only two inches off his bed. Energy spent, the hand dropped soundlessly to the covers. “Oh, just having some fun reminiscing.”