HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 5 Read online

  So, Peter, make your wish, then have the confidence and courage to go after it.

  I hope you wish to complete this Hidden Mickey quest I have made just for you.

  If you are willing, here is your first clue:

  We needed a bridge for the first movie shot at my Ranch, so I built one.

  Best wishes for you, Walt”

  Early in the morning, before anyone else was awake, Peter used his banned phone to access the Internet and research Walt’s clue. He now understood why Wolf had given him the little book before their trip. As Wolf knew, he was already at the right spot. The research told him where on the Ranch he needed to go and a handy map showed him how to get there.

  When the ranch hands arrived with the horses, Peter was impatient to get moving. His family saw the return of some liveliness and hoped for the best. Communication from Peter had been sparse, if at all.

  There was a television commercial being shot in the new Business District, so the family kept to the trails in the north of the Ranch. They wound past the Covered Bridge and the Piney Woods as they headed for Pee Wee’s Farmhouse. When the younger boys started to explore the Mess Hall, Peter excused himself and took off at a ground-eating lope due north. There were five points of interest up that way, but he was only interested in one of them: Toby Tyler Bridge.

  Lance and Kimberly watched as he rode off, a look of hope mirrored on their faces. “Stick to the main road,” was Lance’s hollered comment before he turned back to his family.

  Peter had found that Toby Tyler was the first movie filmed at the Golden Oak Ranch back in 1960. The bridge had been used for the circus to get over the creek. What he didn’t know was what to look for or where.

  When he reached the white wooden bridge, he dismounted, took off his riding helmet, and tied his buckskin to a nearby oak tree. The horse immediately dropped her head and started to munch on the abundant green weeds under the tree.

  The white gravel road Peter had been following crossed the bridge and turned a sharp right as it continued to the Camp House and Natalie’s Cabin. The bridge itself was unimpressive. Two horizontal beams that prevented travelers from falling off the sides of the bridge were held up in place by five posts. Three L-shaped beams stood out from the sides to give the structure strength. Under the bridge was a rocky streambed that probably would have been cool and inviting on that warm day if it had been full of water. But, no water was needed for any movie, so it was dry.

  A slow walk across the dusty planks revealed nothing hidden or mysterious to Peter. After another unproductive pass, he jumped down into the rocks. A flashlight was pulled out of a pocket and used to light the beamed underside of the bridge. It was all a uniform, if slightly grayish, white. Under the top layer of rocks, the bed of the stream was hard-packed earth and more rocks. Anything buried would be difficult to locate. Peter aimed the light upward again. His mind on the clue, he ignored the nagging thought that there might be snakes or spiders that had claimed this unused part of the Ranch as their own. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, just as Walt had hoped.

  At the halfway point under the bridge he found what he thought he was looking for. A flat container was nailed to the underside and painted in the same white as the bridge. It felt like plastic in contrast to the bridge that was made of wood. A few tugs with his fingertips did nothing but add a splinter to his hand. Going back to the napping horse, Peter picked up his backpack from where he had dropped it. Using the flashlight, he dug through the mess until he found something that might work: a bottle opener.

  Back under the bridge, whistling the beloved song from Pinocchio, he used the sharp end of the opener to dislodge the container. With a muttered, “Gotcha,” it fell into his outstretched hand. The impromptu victory dance was cut short when he banged his head on the lowest beam. “Shoulda left my helmet on.”

  As he rode sedately back to his family, the opened capsule safely buried in his pack, the next clue circled through his mind. Usually he could tell something about the where or what of a clue, but this one stumped him.

  “Which Mask would you choose: Comedy or Tragedy? I’d prefer to laugh.”

  His contemplation ended when his dad came galloping up the road to find him. “Pete. We’ve got to go. There’s been an accident. It’s Catie.”

  ”This isn’t Anaheim.”

  Walt tugged the collar of his jacket tighter against his neck as soft, white snowflakes drifted across his vision. A sense of wonderment filled his mind as the confusion from the abrupt transition dissipated. One minute he was in his office at the Studio, the next he was in some kind of dark tunnel with a curtain of white in front of and behind him.

  Wolf took an unobtrusive step closer to make sure Walt was all right. As far as he knew, the trips through time were now fairly painless. Before Omah had showed him a different way to travel, the swirling vortex he always used had been dizzying, disorienting, and usually ended by being unceremoniously dumped onto a cold, wet riverbank. Plus, as an added bonus, he could choose to come out the other end as a man or a full-grown wolf.

  Other than his wide, wondering eyes, Walt seemed fine. He had clung to Wolf’s arm as instructed, expecting to disappear in a shining, shimmering mass of pink sparkles. Now that they were at the apparent end of the trip—or more correctly, the beginning of something spectacular—he was eager to get moving. It was getting colder by the moment.

  “What gave it away, Walt? I wanted to surprise you.”

  Before Walt could reply, someone riding a small scooter appeared out of the snowflakes. It was Omah, wheeling into the tunnel to greet the two men.

  “What happened to your legs?” Concern overcame Walt’s eagerness as he hurried over to her.

  “Oh, I’m fine, Walt. This is for you. We have a lot of walking to do and thought this would help.” Omah got off the bright red, three-wheeled mobility scooter and motioned for Walt to take the seat.

  He balked. The glance he shot at Wolf was less-than-cooperative. “I’m quite capable of walking, Wolf, and you know it. I’m not an invalid yet.”

  “Never said you were, Boss.” Wolf knew he had to tread carefully. “As you said, this isn’t Anaheim. Out of concern for how tired you’ve been, we thought this would help. We just wanted you to be able to see everything. That’s all. We literally have a lot of ground to cover. There’s a heated blanket to go over your legs that’s plugged into the battery of the scooter. As you already saw, it’s snowing.”

  “Give it a try, Walt. It’s actually fun. If you don’t use it, I will.”

  Wolf and Omah were each on the receiving end of a glare as Walt tried to keep from rubbing his hands together to warm them. “Heated blanket, huh? How come you brought me to the Arctic? What does this have to do with Disneyland?” Without waiting for an answer, he tentatively sat down on the black leather seat, still warm from Omah. The controls were simple enough to figure out as he wheeled back and forth a few times and then did a complete circle around the couple. Like a kid with a new toy, a smile overtook the frown he had been sporting. “Hey, this is kinda fun! Where’s that blanket you promised me?”

  Crisis averted, Omah helped tuck the blanket around Walt’s legs. Just as the warmth started to seep into his legs, a whistle sounded above them. A familiar whistle that echoed through their arched space.

  Walt let out a loud, “Ha! I know that whistle. That’s the C. K. Holliday! Thought you said this wasn’t California. So, what happened to California’s weather in the future? How’d it get messed up so badly that it’s snowing?”

  “That probably is the C. K. Holliday. But, this isn’t California. Come on this way, Walt. And take that scooter off Bunny Speed.” Wolf pointed at a small, gray knob on the right side of the control panel. “Put it on Turtle. We don’t want to run all day to keep up with you.”

  A crowd of people suddenly entered their tunnel and ignored the threesome as they headed toward the other end, the same one Wolf had just indicated. Walt watched them go by and coul
d see eagerness and anticipation on each and every one of their faces. “I couldn’t understand a word any of them said,” he muttered to Omah as they followed at a more sedate pace. “Where are we?”

  The snow still fell in lazy flakes as they emerged into the blue light of a winter’s afternoon. Walt was silent as he slowly looked around the panorama that had unfolded in front of him. “It’s so…so big. It’s so…so beautiful.”

  The scooter inched forward as a wide-eyed Walt took in Town Square covered with an enchanting layer of snow. “Look, the horse-drawn streetcars and there’s my Omnibus!” As the first moments of surprise and delight passed, the builder in Walt took over. “I like the design of the buildings. Look how elegant City Hall is. This all seems newer than my Main Street, a little bigger with more frills, like it’s a different period in time. Hmmp, not much of a train station, though…”

  As they headed down Main Street, Walt read off the names of the different buildings as he passed them. It didn’t take him long to spot another similarity. “Hey, they did the window tributes.”

  As they proceeded, his voice became softer and softer. When he suddenly stopped and fell silent, Wolf came closer. “Something wrong, Walt?”

  A tear slowly fell down Walt’s cheek as he looked up at one of the windows. “Must be the snow.” He swiped at the moisture as his eyes filled again. “I just saw Lilly’s Boutique and Flora’s Boutique. And, look at that window. Dr. Sherwood. He was the first person to believe in me as an artist. He commissioned a picture when I was very young. It was his horse. And there he is…there they all are…after all these years they’re still remembered.” He felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

  “We remember everything, Walt.”

  Walt pulled his eyes from the tribute and looked down Main Street at the tall structure that adorned every Park. Now that they were closer, it became more defined through the falling snow.

  Wolf smiled over at Omah. She gave him a big grin. “That’s what we wanted you to see in the snow. Well, one of the things. Welcome to Paris, Walt.”

  “Paris? France? I…I got so excited I forgot to ask. We…we made it to Paris?” There was a catch in his voice as the scooter surged toward Le Chateau de la Belle au Bois Dormant. “Lillian and I love Paris. I never imagined…”

  “That’s Sleeping Beauty Castle, Walt. She’s 167 feet tall.” Omah held hands with Wolf as they approached the towering pink and blue Castle, the colors almost indistinguishable in the layers of snow. Leaning closer, she whispered into his ear. “This was a good thing to do, Wolf. I know we went back and forth about it, but, I think he’ll rest easier now. He’ll realize he does matter and will be remembered.”

  Before Walt could zip through the Castle’s entry, Wolf called him back. “Hang on a minute, Speedy. There’s one last thing I want you to see before we go.”

  Walt couldn’t take his eyes off the Castle. Roy, we made it to Paris! “Go? What do you mean go? We just got here. I haven’t even ridden the train yet. Do you think they’ll let me drive it?”

  Wolf took a stand in front of the scooter. By the familiar gleam he could see in Walt’s eyes, he figured—correctly—that Walt would just take off. “It’s freezing, Walt, and you know it. We only brought you here in January to show you how beautiful one of the Parks looks in the snow. It isn’t something you’d ever see in California.”

  “Then let me stay and enjoy it.”

  Omah had to hide her grin. She, as well as Wolf, recognized Walt digging in and getting ready for battle. “Boss, we have another plan for that. Once Wolf shows you the next surprise, we’ll go…” She held up a hand when Walt was about to object again. “We’ll go to the Disneyland Hotel, set up camp, and come back tomorrow. Only it will be in April. You always said you love Paris in the spring.”

  Walt took a moment to analyze the option just presented to him. “Disneyland Hotel, huh? We’ll still be here, but in the spring? And you’ll actually let me ride something?”

  “Rides, yes. Drive the train, no. And, a different Disneyland Hotel.”

  There was a distinct grumble when Walt heard he couldn’t drive his beloved train. A slight frown on his face, he looked away from the Castle to stare into the distance as an unpleasant realization came over him. His shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh. “I suppose I’m not really Walt here, am I?”

  Wolf nodded that he understood. At this point in time, Walt was gone. His status as a public figure was the stuff of legends, but not as the living, breathing boss. Now he was just another guest amongst the thousands. “You are to us, Boss. Come on. I want to show you something in Adventureland.”

  “Do I get to ride the Jungle Cruise, Warden?”

  That earned a chuckle. “No Jungle Cruise here. We’re going to Adventure Isle and you’ll see La Cabane des Robinson.”

  “I understood Robinson out of that. No Jungle Cruise? Why not? Hey, what’s that ride? That’s new.”

  “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril. We’ll go over there later. I wanted you to see…this.”

  Past rocky outcrops and a bubbling waterfall, a lone, majestic tree rose from the lush landscaping, an active waterwheel carrying bamboo canisters of water up to the highest branches.

  “I see why you wanted me to come in the winter. The Swiss Family Treehouse covered in snow! It’s beautiful. I don’t suppose you’ll let me go up there now.”

  Wolf clapped him on the shoulder. “Tomorrow, Walt. When it’s nice and sunny and warm. I just wanted you to see the beauty of the Park in winter.” He looked over at Omah. “You all set to take us to the Disneyland Hotel?” Wolf knew to leave the minute details of their trip to Omah. Even though he had been using her traveling technique for over a year now, this trip with Walt was too important, too fragile, to possibly mess up.

  “Yes, all set. I already checked into the room so we don’t have to go through registration, and the scooter will come with us. We just have to find a quiet spot to, uh, go.”

  As Wolf and Omah looked around for a good place to vanish from sight, Walt continued to gaze longingly at the Treehouse. ‘Tomorrow’ seemed like such a long ways away. When he heard “inside Skull Rock,” he reluctantly followed them along a smooth walkway. As they meandered behind the Pirate Ship, he was reminded of the Chicken of the Sea ship moored back home in Fantasyland. Once they entered the darkened, empty corridors of Skull Rock, his stomach growled. “Hey, any chance of getting a tuna fish sandwich? I’m hungry.”

  The Skull vanished from sight before he could get an answer.

  “No, it’s not right. Omah should have the bedroom. I’ve slept on sofas before. You’ve slept on worse.”

  “It’s all right, Boss. The sofa pulls out into a sleeper, just like in your apartment.”

  “But, you and Wolf can’t share…” Walt broke off and looked away. Omah and Wolf were adults and it wasn’t up to him to say what they could or couldn’t do.

  Before Wolf could say anything else, Omah motioned at him. “I think I know what’s bothering him.” She walked over to the red and white-striped sofa where Walt had positioned himself. Heavy burgundy swags framed the window behind them. As she sat next to him, she held out her left hand. “I guess you’ll be the first to know, Walt. Wolf and I got married!” She wiggled her ring finger to show off a two-carat princess-cut diamond nestled in a filigree bed of emeralds.

  Walt’s face broke out in a wide grin as he took her fingers and examined the beautiful ring. “You did? Why didn’t you let me know? I would have sent…” Her hand was dropped as he reached up to scratch his head. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t be able to send a wedding present, now would I? Well, anyway, best wishes to you both. Tell me about the ceremony. I love a good story.” When Omah started to laugh, he looked at them both with an odd expression on his face. He didn’t think he had said anything remotely funny. “Did I miss something?”

  Omah waved her hand as she went over to Wolf. He wasn’t sure why she found their ceremony so amusing, either. “Oh, don�
�t scowl, Wolf. You’ll get worry lines.” She took him by the arm and drug him over to the matching sofa across from the one where Walt still sat. “I’ll tell it. You would have loved it, Walt. You know about Wolf’s family, right? Oh, maybe I should have asked about that first…” She broke off and looked to Wolf for clarification.

  “Yeah, Wolf’s mentioned his father is the Shaman and how the Friendly Village on the Rivers of America represents them. They’re his link to the past. Right, Wolf?” Receiving a nod, Walt had another intriguing thought. “Any chance of meeting them now that you know you can take me places?”

  Wolf’s groan was accompanied by rolling eyes. “I knew I’d create a monster by allowing you to go with us on one trip. We’ll see,” was his only answer to Walt’s question.

  “I’ve been a dad and a grandfather long enough to recognize that as meaning no.”

  “Hey, can we get back to my wedding?”

  “Our wedding.”

  “Yes, dear.” Omah flashed a bright smile as she pushed her blaze of crimson hair off her shoulder. “Our wedding.” She turned back to Walt, her face lit up by the enthusiasm of the telling. “You see, we were just planning to visit with his family and showed up as wolves just for the fun of it. You should have seen his father’s face fall when he saw Wolf’s big, black body run into camp. He had been so happy his son could travel as a man that he thought something had gone wrong and he’d never get to see Wolf’s charming face again. So, we just went into one of the tents and popped back out as humans.”

  “You can change that quickly?”

  The grin on Omah’s face had a bit of superiority in it. “Oh, I learned how to do that years ago…”

  “A LOT of years ago.”

  Into her story, Omah ignored Wolf’s mumble. “Now, the last time I had seen his father, we had a bit of miscommunication. I had mentioned that Wolf and I had been fighting and that Wolf had beaten me…”