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Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island
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Contents
Cover
Synopsis
Inside Cover
Copyright
Dedication
Disclaimer
Acknowledgements
Dear Readers
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
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HIDDEN MICKEY 3
Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island
Volume 3 in a series of action-adventure mysteries about Walt Disney and Disneyland written for Adults, Teens, & Tweens (age 10 & up).
WOULD YOU TO BREECH THE FABRIC OF TIME TO SAVE WALT'S LEGACY?
How far would you be willing to go to save your life—as well as the potential future of your boss, Walt Disney? Would you put your life in the hands of a mysterious security guard named Wolf who seems to have uncanny abilities that reach far beyond the realms of logic?
Wolf has dedicated his life to guarding his boss Walt Disney. Little did he know how far-reaching that dedication would extend.
WOLF TIRELESSLY TRIES TO STOP A MALICIOUS VILLAIN
Dr. Claude Houser, a doctor and scientist employed by Walt Disney, finds his life and Walt's future threatened by an unknown blackmailer.
Wolf sends Disneyland cast member Wals Davis to aid the doctor and a damsel in distress. Wals now finds himself in a bizarre—yet strangely familiar—setting where time moves differently and things that occur in the present seem to have a profound effect on things that happen in the past.
WILL THEY RETURN HOME OR BE STUCK IN THE VORTEX OF TIME?
It will take all of Wolf's cunning to bring three vastly different people back through the swirling vortex of time.
Another "E-Ticket" ride through Disney's history.
HIDDEN MICKEY 3
WOLF!
THE LEGEND OF TOM SAWYER’S ISLAND
THIRD NOVEL IN THE HIDDEN MICKEY SERIES
REVISED EDITION eBOOK - VOLUME 3 - OCT 9, 2015
ISBN 13: 978-0-97-490267-8
COPYRIGHT © 2011 NANCY RODRIGUE
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data on File
www.HIDDENMICKEYBOOK.com
Flesch-Kincaid Grade 5.0 - Flesch Reading Ease 81.4
1st EDITION eBOOK - MARCH 2011 - ISBN 13: 978-0-97-490267-8
1st EDITION PAPERBACK - APRIL 2011 - ISBN 13: 978-0-97-490264-7
1st EDITION HARDBACK - JULY 2015 - ISBN 13: 978-1-93-831916-7
REVISED EDITION PAPERBACK - FEB 2016 - ISBN 13: 978-1-93-831913-6
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
NO PART OF THIS BOOK BE USED OR REPRODUCED IN ANY MANNER WHATSOEVER, ELECTRONIC, MECHANICAL,
PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR OTHERWISE WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER
Double R Books Publishing
740 N. H Street, Suite # 170
Lompoc, California, 93436
www.DOUBLERBOOKS.com
COVER CONCEPT BY NANCY RODRIGUE
www.NANCY.RODRIGUE.org
COVER DESIGN BY JEREMY BARTIC
www.JEREMYBARTIC.DAPORTFOLIO.com
COVER COPYRIGHT © 2011 BY DOUBLE R BOOKS
www.DOUBLERBOOKS.com
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Dedication
Dedicated to Kyla & Silas,
and especially my husband, Russ Rodrigue.
Thank you for all your support and encouragement.
This book would not have been possible without you.
Nancy Temple Rodrigue
Disclaimer
Company Trademarks: Hidden Mickey 3 is in no way authorized by, endorsed by or affiliated with the Walt Disney Company, Inc., Disneyland Park, WED or Paramount. Disneyland Park is a registered trademark of the Walt Disney Company. Other trademarks include but are not limited to Adventureland, Animatronics, Big Thunder Railroad, Columbia, Fantasmic!, Fantasyland, Fort Wilderness, Fowler’s Harbor, Frontierland, Golden Horseshoe Review, Haunted Mansion, House of the Future, Imagineers, Jungle Cruise, Keel Boat, Magic Kingdom, Maleficent, Mark Twain, Merriweather, Mine Train thru Nature’s Wonderland, New Orleans Square, Master Gracey, Pinewood Indians, Pirate’s Lair, Rainbow Ridge, Sleeping Beauty, Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, Star Trek, Tomorrowland, Tom Sawyer Island, Vulcan Mind Meld, and Walt Disney. All references to such trademarked properties are used in accordance with the Fair Use Doctrine and are not meant to imply this book is a Disney or a Paramount product for advertising or other commercial purposes.
While some of the events and persons contained herein are historical facts and figures; other persons named and the events described are purely fictional and a product of the Author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental.
The actions depicted within the book are a result of fiction and imagination and are not to be attempted, reproduced or duplicated by the readers of this book. The Publisher and Author assume no responsibility or liability for damages resulting, or alleged to result, directly or indirectly from the use of the information contained herein.
THANKS and ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS to:
KAYE MALINS, CONNIE LANE AND THE REST OF THE LADIES AT THE WALT DISNEY HOMETOWN MUSEUM IN MARCELINE, MISSOURI – FOR THEIR CONTRIBUTIONS TO HISTORICAL RESEARCH
www.WALTDISNEYMUSEUM.org
THANKS and ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS also go to:
our Proofreaders and Editors:
JOEY KITZMAN, Proofreader
JAMES D. KEELINE, Proofreader
KARLA GALLAGHER, English B.A., Editor
KIMBERLEE KEELINE, English PhD., Editor
www.KEELINE.com
Dear Readers,
I am pleased to present to you the third book in the Hidden Mickey series: Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer’s Island. There has been a lot of interest in my new character Wolf who was introduced in Hidden Mickey 2: It All Started…. He is a very mysterious man and I felt he deserved to have his story told. I have also introduced a new element into the series—fantasy! You will still find the rollicking adventure you have come to expect in the Hidden Mickey series, but I think you will enjoy the new places to which you will be taken. You might notice how I used the words “River” and “Island” throughout the novel. While the correct rendering would not involve capital letters, I want you to think of the River and the Island as their own entities, a vital part of the story and the lives of the people therein.
You may also have noticed this novel, as well as the next in the series, Hidden Mickey 4: Wolf! Happily Ever After?, are all without David W. Smith’s input. He is working on his own projects and I wish him the best.
Your lingering questions from Hidden Mickey 2: It All Started… will be answered in this novel. And, as you have come to expect from Hidden Mickey, a few more questions will be raised in Wolf! I can’t make it too easy for you! So, settle back in a comfortable chair, and “hang on to yer hats ‘cause this here’s going to be a wild ride!”
Best Wishes,
Nancy Temple Rodrigue
Disneyland – Walt’s Apartment – 1966
The Blond-Haired Man sat quietly on the red brocade sofa. The two men he was observing were intent on their discussion of cryogenics. Since this particular aspect of their ongoi
ng discussion was not in his field, he sat back and enjoyed the banter as the two debated back and forth. His part was done—for now. He knew there would be a far greater role for him to fill that would come later, hopefully much, much later—that of continuing Walt’s work and guarding his legacy. When another hacking cough brought the good-natured debate to a halt, he wondered if it would begin sooner than they all would want.
His friend, Dr. Claude Houser, paused in the explanation he was about to give as the coughing spasm overtook Walt and he tried to catch his breath. Quietly pulling a stethoscope out of his non-descript briefcase, he listened to his boss’s breathing, a frown crossing his face. “You really need to quit smoking, Walt,” he softly admonished as he draped the stethoscope over his shoulders.
Instead of the disagreement both the men expected, Walt gave a sigh and nodded. “Yeah, I know. But, it takes the edge off.”
Neither man had to ask what was encompassed in that alleged edge. With another expansion at Disneyland going on, a secret expedition to Florida looking for property, a major animated feature, a few live-action movies thrown in, and their own secretive work, they knew how thinly their boss was spread. Still, his smoking wasn’t helping matters.
When Walt didn’t get his expected argument, he smiled to himself and brought the discussion back to where he wanted it. “So, am I going to be dreaming the whole time I am…I am… What the heck am I going to be?” he laughed, looking over at his Number One Man. “Gone? Sleeping?”
The Blond-Haired Man gave a small smile. Nobody ever used the “D” word. “Sleeping is a good word.” He looked over at Dr. Houser, who simply shrugged and nodded. “We aren’t sure, of course. With our cutting-edge technology, it could be as pleasant as a really good night’s sleep. I would guess, though, that it would be more like a loss of consciousness.”
Walt was quiet, thoughtful, as he wandered out on the patio and stared unseeingly through the wide, open latticework at the backside of the Jungle Cruise. His fingers pulled a couple of leaves off the vine that had been recently planted that would eventually fill in the spaces and give Walt more privacy. Across the wide walkway that ran behind Main Street, though, on the other side of those tall trees, would be the native village. As he stood there, he could hear two shots being fired from a Jungle Cruise skipper as his boat was “attacked by an angry hippo.”
When the other two men wondered what Walt was doing out there and followed him as far as the open doorway, their boss seemed to be talking to himself when they heard him say, “A good night’s sleep. Yeah, that would be nice….” He broke off when a falling branch caught his attention. Eyes coming back into focus, he spotted a man high up in one of the tall trees on the Jungle Cruise’s berm, saw in hand, watching him. Walt gave a friendly wave. Startled, the worker gave a hesitant wave back and nervously began hacking away at another branch that had been damaged by the severe Santa Ana winds that had roared through Orange County the previous night.
Dr. Houser, not as used to Walt’s moods as his friend was, looked at the Blond-Haired Man and gave a ‘what do we do now?’ gesture.
“You have any other questions, Walt? Do you want to look at the schematics again?”
Walt gave a light laugh, his pensive mood broken. “Oh, I’ll always have more questions!” he replied as he turned away from the Jungle Cruise and the three friends went back inside. As Claude grabbed a handful of peanuts out of a small crystal dish on the kitchen counter, Walt’s eyes kept going above the doctor’s head to one of the cabinets behind him. “While you both are here, I’d like to go over again the work we’ve already done in the cavern.” His eyes now looked directly at Dr. Houser. “Do you have time right now?”
“Of course,” came the expected answer. “I can go over the equipment and the calculations once more.” He carefully packed his stethoscope back into his briefcase—his medical bag had been prohibited on the property by Walt. Wouldn’t look good to see the boss being followed around by a doctor.
Walt looked him over and grinned. “Are you sure you’re really twenty-eight? I’d swear you look just like those fresh-faced teenagers we have working here on the rides!”
“Good genes, I guess,” was the doctor’s standard reply. Sandy haired and boyishly good looking, he was used to being challenged about his age and qualifications. He came to expect that when he graduated high school at fourteen, college at seventeen, then eight years of med school and post-graduate work specializing in cryogenics.
Walt slapped him on the shoulder. “No offense, of course.”
Good-natured, Claude could honestly say, “None taken. Shall we go?” He needed to get back to the laboratory for a shipment he was expecting.
Walt seemed preoccupied again. “Hmm? Oh, you two go ahead to New Orleans Square. I’ll meet you in the cavern in five minutes, ten tops.”
When the front door quietly clicked shut behind the two departing men, Walt walked over to the kitchenette. He opened the second bi-fold louvered door that had concealed the remaining half of the serving area. Opening the far left cabinet, he moved an unneeded stack of dishes and coffee cups out of the way. Reaching in, way in the back, his fingers closed over a velvet box. Pulling out the black box, he frowned at the dust coating the underside. As he brushed it off, wiping the stains on his trousers, he gave a chuckle. “I guess I can’t complain to housekeeping. Would ruin my hiding place!”
Looking around for the best spot to open his prize, he returned to the patio and the bright sunlight pouring in through the latticework. Opening the box, he once again marveled at the brilliant display of fireworks that exploded off the brilliant red diamond settled within the velvet confines of the container. The gold setting, even though its surface appeared to have been dulled over the ages by the sheen of patina, still glowed in the bright light, and its three familiar circles seemed to greet Walt. “Hello, Mickey. I’d love to hear your story, how you came to be,” he murmured as he turned the boxed pendant this way and that in the sun. “Even though I don’t know the why and the how, you’re still pretty nifty. Maybe now you can give me some assurance of what I am about to do.”
Walt reached toward the heart-shaped red diamond, knowing the touch of his fingers would somehow activate this mysterious stone. He was hoping it would once again show him what he so desperately wanted to see—his future. Or, what he thought would be his future….
“Walt? You in here?” came a sudden voice calling in from the front door. Walt immediately recognized it was one of his Imagineers.
Snapping the lid to the velvet box shut, Walt put the box behind his back as he came back into his apartment, pulling the door shut behind him. “Yeah, I’m here. Supposed to meet some workers in New Orleans Square, though. What’s up?”
“It’s Mr. Lincoln,” he explained, referring to the animatronic figure of Abraham Lincoln over in the ornate Opera House on the opposite side of Main Street. “During the Gettysburg Address, he tried something different. Thought you would like to see it.”
Walt could see the amused smile on the man’s face and knew it wasn’t something tragic. Relaxed now, he nodded. “Give me a minute and I’ll follow you over.”
As the Imagineer—a term Walt used for those specialists who designed and built basically everything he needed—turned for the door, Walt hurriedly replaced the box in the back of the cabinet, leaving the door slightly ajar. He didn’t have time to reposition the stack of dishes just as they had been, but no one else was expected to come into the apartment.
Walt caught up to the man who waited on the stairs. “So, what did Abe do? Start speaking in Latin?”
“Nope. He bent over backwards from the knees! Scared the bejeebers out of some of the guests who still thought he was real!”
Walt chuckled. It had been a technological wonder to get Abraham Lincoln to rise from his chair to deliver the historic speech. He knew there was always an on-going debate as to whether he was a real man or a robot. This little trick might cool the debate for a little whi
le, but only until the next roomful of guests saw the show.
“Well, let me take a look, and then fix him! I don’t want the show closed for days on end. You have until tomorrow.”
“You got it, boss.”
Tom Bolte, a General Maintenance man, sat still in his high perch in the tree, stunned. He stared at the empty patio that he had already known led into Mr. Disney’s private apartment atop the Fire House. It wasn’t seeing The Man himself that had stunned Tom. That was pretty much a regular occurrence around Disneyland these days. No, it was that…that brilliant thing Walt had had in his hands moments ago. Even from his high perch about forty feet away, the sparkle, the light, the fire had been amazing.
What was it, though? It was certainly red. He could see that very clearly. But, what was red like that? A garnet? A ruby? Did rubies sparkle like that?, he wondered to himself. How the heck would I know with the lousy pay they give me….
Tom felt his heart start pounding. His discontent with the positions he was assigned in the Park was always forefront in his mind, never far from his hot temper. He had to learn to control his mouth, especially after that first warning he had received from his supervisor. Supervisor, he spat. The man was an idiot. He dropped out of high school and I majored in engineering. They make him a supervisor and me a lousy fix-it guy. They can’t even decide what department to stick me in. One day I’m painting some stupid railing, the next day I’m changing light bulbs. Today I’m stuck up a tree.
Silently hacking away at a few more tree limbs, he kept looking over at the patio—the off-limits patio, he reminded himself. And who were those other guys, especially that one with the stethoscope? He had to be a doctor. Walt must really trust them to have them in his private quarters. But, Walt hadn’t taken out that beautiful gemstone—it had to be a gemstone—until the two of them had left the apartment. Maybe no one else knew it was there.…