Legacy of Secrets

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Legacy of Secrets Page 1

by Ridley Pearson




  ALSO BY RIDLEY PEARSON

  Kingdom Keepers—Disney After Dark

  Kingdom Keepers II—Disney at Dawn

  Kingdom Keepers III—Disney in Shadow

  Kingdom Keepers IV—Power Play

  Kingdom Keepers V—Shell Game

  Kingdom Keepers VI—Dark Passage

  Kingdom Keepers VII—The Insider

  The Syndrome

  The Return—Disney Lands

  Steel Trapp—The Challenge

  Steel Trapp II—The Academy

  WITH DAVE BARRY

  Peter and the Starcatchers

  Peter and the Shadow Thieves

  Peter and the Secret of Rundoon

  Peter and the Sword of Mercy

  The Bridge to Neverland

  Escape from the Carnivale

  Cave of the Dark Wind

  Blood Tide

  Science Fair

  For a complete listing of Ridley’s published books visit

  www.ridleypearson.com

  The following are some of the trademarks, registered marks, and service marks owned by Disney Enterprises, Inc.: Audio-Animatronics® Figure, Disneyland®, Disney’s Hollywood Studios, Disney’s Animal Kingdom® Theme Park, Epcot®, Fantasyland® Area, Imagineering, Imagineers, it’s a small world, Magic Kingdom® Park, Main Street, U.S.A., Area, Mickey’s Toontown®, monorail, Toontown®, Walt Disney World® Resort.

  Copyright © 2016 Page One, Inc.

  Cover illustration by Jeff Thomas

  Cover design by SJI Associates, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.

  ISBN 978-1-4847-3529-9

  Visit www.DisneyBooks.com

  www.kingdomkeepers.com

  www.ridleypearson.com

  www.kingdomkeepersinsider.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Also by Ridley Pearson

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 Opening the Door

  Chapter 2 Lost Cause

  Chapter 3 Old Friends

  Chapter 4 Pressure Points

  Chapter 5 The Mayfair

  Chapter 6 Answer Me, Please

  Chapter 7 Those Guys

  Chapter 8 Half Absent

  Chapter 9 The Lookout

  Chapter 10 Tinkers

  Chapter 11 Mad Tea Party

  Chapter 12 Snatchers

  Chapter 13 Rules Were Rules

  Chapter 14 The Wild Lion

  Chapter 15 The Golden Horseshoe

  Chapter 16 The Entourage

  Chapter 17 Diversion

  Chapter 18 Soundless Moment

  Chapter 19 The Spotlight

  Chapter 20 A Costume Party

  Chapter 21 Cat and Mouse

  Chapter 22 Silver Lines and White Lies

  Chapter 23 Going In

  Chapter 24 Not Alone

  Chapter 25 A Family Recipe

  Chapter 26 Carving Time

  Chapter 27 To Grandmother’s Shop We Go

  Chapter 28 An Unwanted Fortune

  Chapter 29 A Friend Indeed

  Chapter 30 Speaking of Friends

  Chapter 31 Words Drowning

  Chapter 32 The Smell of Dead Skunks

  Chapter 33 No Explanation

  Chapter 34 White Gloves

  Chapter 35 Names, Drawers, and a Wife

  Chapter 36 Sliding Books

  Chapter 37 An Open Drawer Is an Open Book

  Chapter 38 The Tree

  Chapter 39 Failure

  Chapter 40 Of Past and Present

  Chapter 41 Solutions Are Often the Problem

  Chapter 42 Fakes

  Chapter 43 The Right Touch

  Chapter 44 An Unexpected Visitor

  Chapter 45 Prisoners

  Chapter 46 The Kingdom on High

  Chapter 47 Reimagining

  Chapter 48 Ezekiel

  Chapter 49 Mr. Mystery Makes an Appearance

  Chapter 50 Flipping the Sign

  Chapter 51 The ABCs

  Chapter 52 Undercover, Under Wheels, Undone

  Chapter 53 In the Flesh

  Chapter 54 Gibberish in Reverse

  Chapter 55 Life-or-Death

  Chapter 56 Missing, Mistaken, Dumbstruck

  Chapter 57 Arming the Enemy

  Chapter 58 Pain and Consequence

  Chapter 59 The Real Deal

  Chapter 60 Jingles All the Way

  Chapter 61 Around and Around We Go

  Chapter 62 Arise

  Chapter 63 An Apparition

  Chapter 64 Hello, Good-bye

  Chapter 65 Tears of Joy, Tears of Pain

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To Becky Cline, Director, Disney Archive;

  Kevin Kern, Disney Archivist;

  and to all those who keep the past so alive

  for the rest of us.

  FINN WHITMAN HELD THE DOOR for Charlene. A gymnast and high school captain of three sports, Charlene now had her telltale sun-streaked blond hair in tight curls, her eyelashes clumped with mascara, her full figure crammed into an aqua-blue-and-white summer dress with a crinoline skirt, white bobby socks, and black flats. Her girl-next-door face was caked in makeup.

  Girls in high school had hated Charlene for her looks. But those who actually spoke to her, who took the time to get to know her, liked her. What would those same kids think now? she wondered. High school was three months in her past; the world beyond the door was a full sixty years in the past—1955. She laced her transparent fingers in front of her like a bridesmaid to keep her hands from shaking.

  Her four friends about to follow her through this same door were time travelers—just like her. They’d been part of her life since seventh grade. That was when she’d auditioned and been picked to be one of the human models for computer-generated holograms that would serve as personal guides through Disney World theme parks.

  Finn addressed the remaining three teens. “We don’t know what form the Overtakers will take, or if they even exist in 1955, so stay alert.”

  “And remember,” said Philby, the redheaded boy at the back of the line, “our holograms aren’t even holograms. They’re two-dimensional, low-res projections that will barely fool anyone. So keep moving and don’t stop to have conversations. The more movement, the less we appear two-dimensional. The brain will trick the eye—or maybe it’s the opposite, but you get the point. No stopping. This is dangerous ground, people.”

  The five Kingdom Keepers had little opportunity to contemplate the strange set of circumstances that had delivered them to this door. Their collective focus was instead on several things, all at once. 1) They were currently in 1955, a time they knew little about; 2) their mission was to locate and steal a fountain pen owned by Walt Disney; 3) the creative legend, Disney himself, was alive on July 17, 1955, and therefore somewhere in Disneyland, just beyond that door.

  As it turned out, so were seven thousand news reporters from around the world, a camera team from ABC TV, hundreds—perhaps thousands—of Disney Cast Members, politicians, VIP dignitaries, and guests. Anaheim, California, had never seen anything like this. Today would change the course of history for the small orange-growing agricultural community. The Kingdom Keepers, being from the twenty-first century, knew all this. They were alone in this knowledge, as they prepared to crash the grand opening. If they failed to retrieve Walt’s fountain pen, and fi
nd a way to ensure its discovery (by them!) nearly six decades hence, then years of battling the Disney villains, including the death of two close friends, would all have been for nothing.

  “You’ll have about twenty minutes,” Wayne said, joining them at the door. “Mr. Disney’s naps are very short, and he has a terribly busy day today.”

  Wayne was a few years older than they were—nineteen or twenty. They knew him better as a man in his eighties; a mentor; their advisor and confidant. Time travel was tricky.

  “Napping?” Willa asked. Though Willa lacked the striking looks of Charlene, and the confident brashness of Philby—she was dark-haired, a little wide in the face, and reserved by nature—she had the brains of a wizard, the mind of a mathematician, and the calm of a lab scientist. “We’re going to pick his pocket while he’s napping?”

  “It’s the best opportunity you’ll have,” Wayne said. “Mr. Disney keeps his pen in the inside pocket of his sport coat. He won’t sleep in the coat, so unless one of you is an expert at pocket picking…”

  “We’ve got this,” Finn said. “No worries.” He had every worry, but wasn’t about to put them on display for all to see.

  “That’s way too cheerful, Witless.” Terry Maybeck seldom withheld his opinions. He claimed that, as an African American kid interested in art, he’d always felt sidelined, bullied, or otherwise ignored. His parents had either abandoned him or died; he didn’t talk about it. He’d been raised by a bighearted aunt who ran a pottery shop. She claimed that Terry had been a head taller than any other kid in his class since the third grade, and had been spoiled by all the attention his teachers gave him, and because of this, had never been shy about sharing his thoughts.

  “Thanks for that, Maybeck,” Finn said. “Charlene…let’s go!”

  Once they were out in the park, everything looked and sounded so different from what they knew. The five holograms moved through a Cast Member entrance leading from backstage into Town Square.

  “What’s weird,” Maybeck said, “is how completely different something can look.”

  “I hear you,” said Philby.

  Sapling trees surrounded Town Square. Grass sod had been laid, but it looked more like green carpet. Flowers had been planted in neatly organized rows in front of stubby bushes. Only a few of the flowers held blossoms, which contributed to the naked look of the place. The park had the feeling of a model of Disneyland, not the real thing. Even the people were strange, in their white shirts, white dresses, and fancy shoes—the hair-sprayed hairdos of the women, the men’s greased haircuts; everything about everyone was so intentional and perfectly in place that it looked more like a wax museum display than a day in Disneyland.

  “Listen to them! They speak so differently,” Charlene whispered to the others. “What’s with all the ‘gee whiz’ and ‘gosh’?”

  “Don’t look now, but it’s 1955. ‘Heck!’ and ‘Darn it!’ are the closest they get to swearing. And look, they behave so differently!” Willa said. “Did you see that man tip his hat to that woman? So formal and polite.”

  A pair of burly men dragging television cables into place each gave Maybeck an unpleasant look.

  “I have a feeling,” Finn said, “that they probably believe differently as well!”

  Disneyland had more of a weekend carnival feel than that of a theme park.

  “This is way cool, by the way!” Maybeck said, ignoring the men. “We get to see the original Disneyland!”

  “See?” Professor Philby repeated, questioning him. Philby, always playing the academic. “Maybeck, we’re not just seeing it, we’re living it.”

  * * *

  The five Keepers had once helped to restore the Disney magic in Disney World by using Walt’s pen to draw on an old blueprint of the park. That transformation had reversed the darker magic of the Disney villains—the Overtakers—and had launched a long string of successful battles against their dark forces. Their purpose here in 1955 was to find the correct pen and make sure it would be in the Disney Hollywood Studios attraction One Man’s Dream, so that they could find it again fifty-odd years later, in the future.

  As the moment approached, the five began moving in eerie resemblance to a well-rehearsed team of bank robbers or street thieves. Outside of the Disneyland firehouse, alongside the Emporium, while the four teens stood side by side, a fifth, Finn, moved through a solid gate. Finn, whose boyish charm had matured into an intriguing forbearance. He had wildly expressive, almost hooded eyes, a mane of brown hair, and square shoulders that added up to a kind of Knight of the Round Table look of nobility. Now he found himself in backstage Disneyland.

  It was nothing like the backstage Disneyland of the future. Carpenters, artists, craftsmen, and people from the television broadcast were so busy they were talking, walking, and banging into each other all at the same time. It looked like the world’s busiest airport on the busiest day of the year. There were other inconsistencies: the sawhorses were wood, not plastic; the workers wore suspenders and heavy leather boots—not a running shoe to be seen. Not a single sports cap, either. These guys wore tams and berets.

  Everyone smoked; cigarettes dangled from lips, were pinched between fingers. Unlit cigarettes were tucked behind ears, along with yellow pencils. There was not a bottle of bottled water in sight, nor aluminum cans. Finn saw some Coke bottles—greenish glass—a few glass milk bottles, and metal lunch boxes in the shape of small barns. Finn moved toward a carport that held four shiny new trucks. As he did, his DHI projection sparkled and flared like a flickering TV signal during foul weather. Once at the carport, his image stabilized.

  Next through the wall was Willa, followed by Charlene and Maybeck. At last, Philby’s flickering projection came backward through the closed gate like a ghost.

  “No matter how many times I see that it still looks so strange,” Maybeck said.

  “I hear you,” said Charlene, equally awed by the metaphysical element of the projected holograms in action.

  The five quickly split up, taking positions relevant to the scaling of the gray-painted staircase, which rose nearly two stories to an unassuming set of casement windows and a nondescript door. Charlene moved down the backstage lane and took up a guard position. Maybeck stood sentry at the bottom of the staircase, prepared to buy his friends time. Willa, Finn, and Philby moved their ghostlike projections through the metal chain strung across the staircase as a barrier. They climbed the stairs quickly, with as much confidence as they could muster. Moments later, they slipped through the exterior back door that led into Walt Disney’s family apartment.

  Each Kingdom Keeper had learned over the years to discipline his or her thoughts and to control his or her emotions. Everything they believed, everything they felt, affected the quality and abilities of their projections. Fear instilled limits; no fear opened up possibility. Entering Walt Disney’s apartment uninvited while he was supposed to be napping felt criminal to each of the three. It took every ounce of confidence and patience they’d learned over the past few years to keep their composure.

  Philby, the most analytical of the five, showed little outward reaction. Willa, who in high school had excelled past Philby in some academics, was less courageous. She looked ready to melt into the plush carpeting underfoot. Finn wanted to project confidence while not seeming pushy. He found himself the unofficial leader of the Keepers, but was occasionally challenged by Philby for that role.

  The three communicated by hand signal. With everyone “talking” at once, it looked as if they were trying to flap their wings to fly.

  When Willa slapped her hand over her mouth and stifled a squeal, Finn spun to see a fully dressed man asleep on the short red couch, his dress shoes indenting the armrest. Finn stared in awe. He’d seen so many videos, photographs, posters, and statues of Walter Elias Disney that seeing him in the flesh seemed so otherworldly he couldn’t move.

  Walt Disney snorted and began snoring softly.

  Willa relaxed her hand. Philby placed his projected
arm around her, and she leaned her head against his projected shoulder. Finn stuck his projected finger down his projected throat, indicating how he felt about the touching moment between the two. Philby stuck out his tongue and then laughed silently.

  Finn took in the many items and pieces of furniture in the apartment, noting the differences between the real apartment and the restored version sixty years hence. Foremost was the brass fireman’s pole mounted through a hole in the floor. The artwork on the walls was different as well: more photographs, fewer paintings. A suit valet stood by the end of the couch that wasn’t there in the present.

  As planned, Philby and Willa searched the closet. Finn inspected the suit valet and Walt Disney’s sport coat, which hung there. The valet tray held U.S.-minted dimes, quarters, nickels, and pennies unlike any Finn had ever seen. The dollars clasped inside a silver money clip looked fake—in small letters they read “Silver Certificate.” Finn reached to look inside the suit jacket, but his hologram hand passed through the fabric.

  The easiest way for him to achieve the materiality that would lend his projection human substance was to allow fear into his thoughts. But that was risky—once mortal, he couldn’t move through walls. Worse, weapons or fists wouldn’t pass through him—they would injure him. Equally important: once fear sank its talons in and took hold, not only was it sometimes impossible for Finn to find his all clear projection again, but any harm that came to him in this condition would linger.

  Leaders, Finn thought, didn’t sit around thinking and stewing. Leaders led. He allowed himself to think about trespassing and attempting to steal something from one of his personal heroes. If caught, he’d be mortified. If caught, then fifty-odd years into the future, there would be no pen to save the Magic Kingdom. The Disney villains known as the Overtakers would face one less obstacle in their objective to crush the Disney magic.

  Finn’s body tingled. He knew the feeling well: he was losing all clear. He was going mortal. More human than projected light. Allowing it to grow stronger—warmer—he waited for the pins and needles to excite his fingertips. At that point, he fingered the fabric of Walt Disney’s sport jacket, and the jacket came open.

 

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