HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 5 Read online

  Caught, Alex walked back to the front of the ship. “Sorry. I figured all the boats would be out when it was this busy. There’s an hour wait for Splash Mountain. Unless we get a FastPass. I mean, unless they get a FastPass.” He flashed a fake grin.

  Looking down to hide his irritation, Peter fished his passport out of his pocket. “Here. Go get us FastPasses. We might as well ride something while I try to figure out what to do.” Since you obviously don’t have any suggestions. “I’ll wait here.” He didn’t miss the relieved, happy expression on Alex’s face as he turned to run off into Critter Country. Turning back to the Columbia, Peter stifled a sigh. Catie’s willingness and eagerness were sorely missed.

  By the time Alex returned, Peter greeted him with a smug smile. “How much time do we have for our FastPasses?”

  Wondering what was up, Alex handed him his passport and one of the tickets. “A little over an hour.”

  “There’s no Fantasmic tonight, right?”

  Alex shook his head. The popular show on the Rivers of America was being refurbished and wouldn’t return for another two months. “You have a plan?”

  Peter glanced back at the tall ship as he led the way to Frontierland. “Yeah, I do. Let’s go have lunch.”

  Alex hurried to catch up with his taller, fast-walking friend. “We just had breakfast two hours ago.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry. Where are we going?” Alex was hoping Peter would say Big Thunder or, at least, the Haunted Mansion.

  “The Golden Horseshoe.”

  The groan came out of Alex’s mouth before he could stop it. But, Peter didn’t seem to notice or pay him any attention. “Why there, Pete? There’s no show today. It’s just a big, empty restaurant.”

  Big and empty was just what Peter wanted at this moment. “We can share that chocolate cake if you want.” He knew Alex’s weakness for the eight-layer decadent dessert. Once he saw the look of rebellion fade from his companion’s face, he added a little more to tip the scale in his direction. “Then I can tell you what my plans are without anyone else hearing.”

  The promise of chocolate plus secrets that sounded suspiciously risky got his full attention. Alex was more eager as he followed Peter into the quiet white and gold saloon.

  “You sure this will work?” Alex shoveled the last bite of cake into his chocolate-ringed mouth.

  “No.” Full of cake and soda, Peter pushed back from the table and tried not to belch.

  Still focused on the dessert, it took a minute for his answer to sink in. Alex set down the fork after licking off the last possible speck of frosting. “No? What do you mean no?” The worried look came back into his brown eyes. “You’re supposed to have it all worked out.”

  “I think it will work, but we won’t know until we actually try.” Even though he had a minuscule cloud of doubt in the back of his mind, the face he put on for Alex was confident. “Besides, what’s the worst they can do? Throw us out of the Park?”

  “You make that sound fun. I don’t want to get thrown out of anywhere! We promised our parents we wouldn’t get into trouble. Why are you smiling?”

  Because you sound just like your sister! “I’m not smiling. Listen, I don’t want to get into trouble either, but I think this is the only way to do it. Are you in or not? You have the easy job, you know.”

  Before he answered, Alex thought over the nebulous plan his friend had outlined. What Peter said was true. If something did go wrong, Peter would be the one caught with his hand in the cookie jar, not him. “Yeah, I guess. Just don’t screw it up.”

  Peter flashed him a wide, cocky smile. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  Not quite mollified, Alex glanced at his watch. “We need to get to Splash Mountain. It’s time for our FastPasses.”

  Peter collected together the dirty plates and cups before they headed downstairs and out into the warm, autumn sunshine. “You’d better not barf all that chocolate when we get to that last big drop.”

  Now it was Alex’s turn to grin. He’d make sure Peter sat in the seat in front of him.

  Evening was a special time at Disneyland. The glare of the sun was gradually replaced with soft mood lighting. All down Main Street the buildings and trees started to twinkle with white lights. Colored spotlights highlighted the turrets and walls of Sleeping Beauty Castle. Tomorrowland became an array of bright neon signs. The lagoon was now a mirror for the soft whites and blues of the Matterhorn, contrasting with the yellow submarines making their slow turn into the shimmering waterfall.

  The pace of the guests seemed to slow as the time for dinner approached. Wait times for rides shortened as the lines for the restaurants and food carts became longer. The benches in the Hub that circled the Partners Statue were used more for people watching than a shady place to escape the sunlight.

  For Peter, however, evening was turning into a time of concealment. Activities that would be easy to see in the light of day now became more obscured with the darkened sky and long shadows. Heading back to Critter Country with the again-reluctant Alex in tow, Peter ordered a lobster roll and fries at the Harbour Galley. Once the delectable, piled-high sandwich was ready, he went to the last table behind the small restaurant there at Fowler’s Harbor. Behind the table was Fowler’s Inn where, a couple of years ago, they had located one of Walt’s hidden clues. On one side of Fowler’s Inn was a wooden walkway that angled around another seating deck and ended at the canoe dock. On the other side was Peter’s goal: the Columbia, docked and dark except for the lighting coming from the open windows of the crew quarters below deck.

  Peter had positioned Alex be to sitting so he faced the other diners. He grabbed a couple of the fries before checking out the situation. Two tables were occupied and there was a small line of guests waiting for their food. Peter moved a couple of the extra chairs out of sight in an attempt to send any other guests elsewhere with their dinners. The canoes always quit running at dusk and the Island was empty for the night. So, the last thing he had to check was the location of the Mark Twain. She was still making cruises and anyone on the second and third decks—not to mention the pilot in the wheelhouse—would have a bird’s eye view of what he planned.

  The familiar blast of her steam whistle told Peter the Mark Twain was on the far side of Tom Sawyer Island. She would be on her way to the dock for unloading. He gave a sigh of relief. That gave him plenty of time before she came by his location again.

  “Okay, Alex,” he said when he returned to the little round table. “You know what to do?”

  “Yeah, I whistle if I see anyone who even looks like they saw you. Or Security.”

  Adam, Alex’s dad, had taught the twins that wonderful, shrill fingers-under-the-tongue whistle that he had never been able master. “Right. Just don’t wait too long so I don’t have time to hide.”

  The French fries were pushed around their paper basket. The gesture showed the boy’s nervousness even though he tried to maintain a calm appearance for his friend’s sake. “I know. I’ll watch. You know enough about the museum onboard to be able to hide?”

  Peter hesitated. He hadn’t ridden the Columbia in years, preferring the canoes when he wanted to go on the River. The pictures he had studied were over five years old. “Yeah, I think so. I know what I’m supposed to look for. I just hope it’s where I think it is.”

  Alex guessed Peter was nervous, too, so he just smiled to reassure his friend.

  Peter wondered why Alex grimaced at him, but didn’t ask. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  The seating area and walkway for guests was a full story above the dock for the ships. On the far side of the Columbia, away from the tables, a wooden barricade had been built to prevent anyone from stumbling off the end of the walk. Barrels, crates, lobster cages and fishing nets had been used as decorations, but were also strategically placed to ward off intruders in places they didn’t belong.

  When they had scouted out the area earlier, there had been a green
metal gangplank that allowed access to the deck of the ship. No longer needed, the ramp now lay on the wooden dock. As Peter stared at it from his higher elevation, gritting his teeth at his bad luck, he doubted he could put it back in place without plenty of noise and some needed help.

  He had already figured out a way to clamor over the barricade and drop down onto the lower dock. Now he saw that wouldn’t be necessary. Without the ramp he would face the steep side of the ship. As he looked over the rigging, he saw a second possibility, one that made his stomach drop.

  Jutting out from the side of the ship were three light blue platforms called chains that each held ropes connected to the masts. Peter thought if he could stand on top of the wooden railing, he could leap over the narrow distance and grab one of the ropes attached to the nearest chain. I see four ropes, after all, how could I miss? Glancing down, he noted the motionless, oil-sheened water. There was a very narrow gap between the dock and the ship. If I fell straight, I would land in the water. Or bang my head on that wooden pier or… He quit speculating. It wasn’t helping.

  A quick glance over his shoulder showed him no one else was in sight. With a pounding pulse, he climbed to the top of the rail and balanced for a moment. Stifling the urge to yell, “Geronimo!” he pushed off with his legs.

  The ropes were in his face faster than he anticipated and he made wild grab, wrapping his arms around the thick cable. Knowing he needed to move quickly, he ducked around to the safer backside of the ropes and worked his way over the chain to the opening in the dark blue wood. He climbed over the burgundy railing to drop softly to the deck of the quiet ship.

  The elation of his success was short-lived. Now standing on the most exposed part of the ship, he needed to get out of sight. Anyone looking closely enough would notice him as being out of place and raise an alarm. Scrunched down, he headed for the open walkway that led to the living quarters down below. With a quick smile, he saw the reminder to ‘Mind Thy Head’ as he disappeared into the safety of the museum.

  Breathing easier, he took a bit of time to get his bearings. From the pictures he had studied, he hadn’t been able to clearly see what was where. Now that he could look around, he was able to quickly locate the galley where he hoped to find the bellows. His research had told him the bellows would have been used by the cook to keep the fire in the stove and ovens hot enough for cooking and baking as needed.

  As he reached the kitchen, his hand fell to the Key to Disneyland safe in his pants pocket. There were a lot of locked doors and crates down here that he itched to open and explore. The cream-colored doors, like the Bos’n’s Locker and Sick Bay, had spindle-covered windows so the guests could get a glimpse into what it was like to live on a ship. But Peter, curious as he was, wanted to open each door and see what else was hidden away. Remembering Alex and his own tenuous position, he sighed for missed opportunities and concentrated on his job at hand.

  There were four sides to the kitchen display. A thick rope net was strung over part of it to keep the guests at bay. The other sections had a dark brown, waist-high railing. Peter ducked under the railing and studied the brass pots that sat on the stovetop. One of the wide pots was filled with a clear, solid substance to mimic water for a stew, complete with vegetables and garlic pulled from the string hanging off the nearby shelves.

  The stove itself was an elaborate cast iron wonder set into the brickwork. Below the railed cooktop were two small ovens with attached pulls to open downward. On the side, also set into the brick, were two larger ovens with doors that swung outward.

  Behind the cooktop, on the other side of the brick was what Peter had been seeking. There he instantly recognized the huge wooden bellows that would have kept the galley’s fire hot. It was positioned over and behind a massive brick block that had a round, fire-darkened cooking hole. On two of the sides were cast iron doors that he figured were either for fuel or ash removal. There was another long, hinged iron lid on which sat another brass pot.

  Peter grabbed the long wooden handle that worked the bellows and marveled that it actually worked. As he lifted it up and down, a metal rod turned and opened, then closed, the leather accordion of the bellows. “Cool!”

  As he watched the mechanics, he noticed a thick wood block nailed on the front. There was engraving on it. Just three letters. W E D. Becoming more excited, Peter strained to see better but was too far away. Eyeing the solid brick platform of the stove, he hopped up to get a closer look.

  Yes, they were Walt’s initials and his guiding point. He had left the bellows in the closed position and reached over to grab the handle again. As the pleats bellowed out, he carefully felt around the curved wooden frame. Just as his fingers found an extra ‘bump’ on the smooth surface of the wood, he heard heavy footsteps on the deck above him. Heart suddenly pounding, he vaguely wondered why he hadn’t heard a whistle from Alex. His fingers closed over the capsule and pulled it away from its home of almost fifty years.

  He now heard voices as they approached the stairs and frantically tried to find a hiding place. Intent on his discoveries, secure in the protective cover of the ship, he hadn’t given hiding a second thought. A quick glance at the locked doors told him that they were too far away and would probably make too much noise. Jumping down from his brick perch, he crouched at the far side and peered around the corner.

  He first saw shoes and then pant legs as two security guards came down the stairs. Flashlights aimed at the dim corners of the displays as they began a methodical search. Peter’s anxiety didn’t cease when he recognized Wolf as one of the guards. He knew he was too far out of the normal realms for a guest for even Wolf to be able to protect him.

  Remembering Wolf’s eerie sense of hearing, he gave a slight cough and whispered for his friend. “Wolf, it’s Peter.”

  Wolf’s head snapped in his direction. “I’ll look over here, Joe. That kid could be hiding anywhere.” As Wolf stomped over, Peter could clearly see the irritation on his face. “Why didn’t you just ask?” His voice was low and angry. “I could have just brought you onboard.”

  “Oh.”

  Wolf shook his head and took Peter by the arm, hauling him to his feet. “Just follow my lead and act sorry.” Louder, he called to his partner, “Hey, Joe. I found the kid. Let’s get him out of here before he damages something.”

  Joe came over and shined the light in Peter’s face. “Wow, I didn’t believe it when someone said they saw a kid on the deck.”

  Wolf pulled Peter along beside him as they went up the stairs to the main deck. Peter was relieved to see the green walkway was again leaning against the side of the ship. He hadn’t stopped to think how Wolf and Joe had gotten aboard. As they neared the gangplank, Peter could hear Alex’s frantic whistle. “Is that for you?” asked Wolf.

  Peter nodded. “Yeah, that would be Alex. He was supposed to warn me. Guess I couldn’t hear him inside.”

  “Apparently not.” Wolf kept his voice low as Joe got ahead of them on the walkway. “Just walk past Alex and motion for him to stay back. I’m going to have to throw you out the Main Gate and tell you not to come back. Quit smiling.”

  Peter wiped the grin off his face. Alex was wide-eyed as Wolf drug Peter past him.

  For Alex’s benefit, Wolf loudly repeated, “I’m taking you to the Main Gate. You’ll have to leave, understand?”

  Peter tried to sound contrite. “Yes, sir. I’m awfully sorry. I just wanted…”

  “Save it.” Joe had taken his other arm and together they escorted Peter through a curious crowd in front of the Mansion and then through Adventureland. To Peter’s relief, they took him backstage near the Refreshment Corner and continued behind Main Street to emerge near the entrance of Walt’s apartment in the Fire Station. The novelty of being escorted by Security quickly became an embarrassment as more and more people stopped to stare at him and wonder what he did.

  “I got this, Joe.” Wolf let the other security guard get back to their interrupted patrol as he continued with Peter
through the Esplanade toward Harbor Boulevard. “How did you get on the Columbia without the gangplank?”

  Peter had a sinking feeling his answer wouldn’t help the situation. “I, uh, jumped from the railing.”

  “Are you out of your mind!?” Wolf stopped their march to stare at the boy. “Why didn’t you just ask? Your dad or I could have easily taken you aboard.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re just as bad as your dad.”

  Peter perked up. “What did Dad do?”

  “Quit trying to change the subject. Speaking of whom, where is Lance? Or are you here with Adam and Beth?”

  “Uncle Adam brought us and then spent the day at the hospital. He’s supposed to pick us up when Alex calls him. Which he probably just did…”

  “Probably. Where are you meeting him?”

  Peter indicated the curved drop-off section just ahead. Before he could speak, Alex came running up, out of breath from hurrying and panic. “Uncle Wolf! Was I glad to see you!” The glare in the sharp blue eyes stopped his effusive remarks. “Um, are we in trouble?”

  “Peter jumped from the dock to the ship. What do you think?”

  Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “You jumped? Is that how you got on? What about that ramp we saw?”

  “It was on the dock. I had to think of something else.”

  “Wow, wish I could have seen that.” He broke off again when he sensed Wolf’s displeasure. “I mean, how could you do something stupid like that?”

  “Okay, you two, knock it off.” Wolf glanced over his shoulder as his eyes swept the crowd. “We’re being watched by a plain-clothes guard. At least act sorry.”

  Both boys theatrically slumped. “Do you want me to cry, Uncle Wolf?”

  Wolf rolled his eyes and had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. Never a dull moment. “Adam should be here soon. Crying isn’t necessary. Peter, did you get what you were looking for? And, no, don’t take it out of your backpack.”