Wolf! Happily Ever After?

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  “No, thank you. I know where the portal is….”

  “Oh? And that is where?” Merlin perked up. “Just out of curiosity, you understand.” He could see that Archimedes had suddenly broken off his argument with Merriweather. Watching his master closely, his yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion at Merlin’s interest.

  “It’s under the first arch in the stone walkway that leads to the castle.” Wals hadn’t seen the interaction between the wizard and the owl. “It matches a portal where we entered in my time.”

  Pondering the information, Merlin ignored Archimedes’ displeasure. Deep in thought, his eyes became unfocused as he saw what they could not. “Ah, so that’s what that strange feeling was. I wondered why I felt like that whenever I crossed over the bridge. Interesting.” His long fingers stroked his beard as he thought what might be done with this new knowledge.

  As the day progressed, the cottage welcomed another visitor. As expected, the Lady Nimue came for her lessons with Merlin. Surprised to find so many strangers—and ones so oddly dressed—with her teacher, she lapsed into silence. With an affected air of shyness, she was, in reality, studying them as if they were bugs under a magnifying glass.

  The moment she had stepped into the room, all were surprised by the startled intake of breath from Merriweather. She became extremely upset and her blue dress and cape seemed to shake in rage. “You! You!” was all she seemed capable of saying. “What are you doing here in this time? Be….” Her words were immediately cut off by an unseen movement from Nimue’s hand.

  Merriweather, made incapable of speech now, could only glare at the beautiful gray-eyed woman. Cozied up to Merlin’s side, she drew the attention away from the angry fairy. In her forced silence, Merri’s mind was spinning. Merri knew this woman somehow. She knew the presence of this one, her essence, the feeling she exuded. She was as familiar to Merri as Merri was with her own two dear companions. This one was evil…. And she could do nothing to warn them.

  Merlin, always distracted when his pupil was around, hadn’t seen or felt the quick spell aimed at the blue Fairy. The owl knew he could do nothing and gave a silent apology to the sputtering woman.

  Unseen, Nimue gave another quick gesture and Merri calmed to sit and quietly sip the tea that Merlin had served earlier. Her irritation and agitation was forgotten in a cloud of distant, lovely memories that had suddenly filled her mind.

  The apprentice had had another feeling when she entered the house, one that was much more intriguing than the insignificant fairy. It was the feeling of power from something stolen from her in the past. And that feeling swirled, inexplicably, around the plain, mortal man that hung close to the regal one. Nimue couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Her training wasn’t yet complete. She only knew that the power came from Wals, and she needed to keep track of him. Shouldn’t be too difficult, seeing he was as naïve as a baby. Her eyes narrowed as she chuckled to herself. On the receiving end of the glare, Wals shifted uneasily, not knowing the reason for his discomfort.

  Her whirlwind of thoughts shifted once again, and she glanced at the dark wolf that hovered near the golden-haired woman. Surreptitiously staring at him under lowered lids, Nimue could feel a menacing something emanating from him. She knew this wasn’t an ordinary wolf. She had too many of them at her command deep in the forest. She kept expecting something more from him, but he stayed on the floor, now pretending to be asleep. I’ll find out what it is, wolf, just give me time.

  Wolf’s eyes shot open as the woman’s thought suddenly entered his mind. To cover his movement, he let out a sneeze as he looked around. Then he saw Nimue’s gray eyes staring straight through him. He let his tongue loll out of his mouth as if he was panting, and made his mind go blank.

  The woman gave an unladylike, silent snort, not fooled for a minute. She would wait. She had the time and, looking over at Merlin’s many books, soon she would have the means.

  As night slowly approached and the high coastal fog slowly began to roll in over the land, it was nearing time for the visitors to leave. Hours ago, the angry apprentice had given up trying to crack through the surface of the wolf and had left. She had taken the time to delight Merlin with a meaningless peck on his cheek and a promise to return the next day for another lesson.

  As Merlin himself led them through the forest, the trees fell back to allow a wider, easier passage and received warm thanks for their efforts. When they reached the edge of the clearing on which sat the magnificent castle, Camelot, they came to a halt. They needed to wait for the full covering of darkness and mist that might, hopefully, mask the profusion of light and color and terror that the vortex would bring when Wolf called for it.

  Even though it was still early evening, dusk had taken hold of the sky, turning it all the colors of the pastel palette. Soft yellows blended into oranges and into a pink that then changed to a bright, bold red as the sun set further in the west. As the needed darkness finally began to fall, torches on the castle walls were lit one by one until the high rim of the curtain wall was a solid flickering line of fire.

  “What’s this? What’s this?” Merlin muttered as he stared at the castle. “Archimedes? Is it that time already?” Receiving no answer, he frowned as he looked around. “Where is that bird? Never there when you need him.” The wizard gave a loud sniff as he turned back to the oncoming spectacle.

  Across the stone bridge came a lively procession of people and horses, all armed with torches and lanterns. The large group made for the meadow on the opposite side of the castle from where the friends awaited the midnight hour. Soon the flat plain was alight as if it was the middle of the day. The hidden onlookers could see that the horses were gaily bedecked with colorful ribbons and trappings that wove through their manes, tails and covered their saddles. These white horses of Arthur’s, usually outfitted for war, were led into a large circle, each knight, dressed in his best tunic, his sword hanging by his side, held the bridle of his own charger.

  When all the horses were in their places, the First Knight raised his sword toward the castle. There, on the battlement, ablaze in light, were the King and Queen. Arthur signaled back with his own sword and a score of trumpets blew a loud blast.

  As the strangers across the meadow watched, a happy, running, screaming hoard of children now came running across the drawbridge from Camelot and headed straight for the horses. The musicians who had accompanied the first group of adults now began to play their flutes and harps in a happy, light melody that floated over the land. The children obediently slowed as they neared the horses. They knew what surprised hooves could do. As they waited eagerly at the fringe of the circle, a knight in half armor approached and chose a child for each horse. The music played louder as the children hung onto the manes of the white steeds as they were led in a continuous full circle, and the laughter of the young ones easily carried over the distance.

  Merlin looked on, a pleased, serene look on his face, his feet tapping time to the music.

  Wals looked over at Wolf. “Does that look familiar to you?”

  Wolf could only nod, speechless as the children on the horses were set down and a new group was placed on the back of the patient horses.

  “Hmm?” Merlin had heard the question and turned from the festive scene. “This? This is just a small summer festival that King Arthur throws for the young ones of the castle. It always takes place at dusk. Too hot during the day, you know. You’ve seen this before, eh?”

  Wals nodded, smiling now at the pictures, both in front of him and in his mind of the King Arthur Carrousel that made up the heart of Fantasyland. “Yes, but in a slightly different form. The horses there are also prancing and galloping but are made out of wood and painted to look like these steeds.”

  Making a noise of recognition in his throat, Merlin nodded. “Well, the knights do train on wooden horses in off times. Perhaps it is the same principle.”

  When all the children had been given their turn, the musicians led the happy throng back int
o the castle walls. When the last lantern had flickered over the walkway, and the torches along the wall had been extinguished, the friends knew it was getting to be a safer time for them to leave.

  Merlin turned to Merriweather, who had been released by Nimue and had no recollection of her distress. “Madam, give my well wishes to your two companions when you get to where you should be.”

  “Thank you, Master Merlin. Your name is honored in our time.”

  Hand on his heart, he bowed his head briefly to her. “Master Wolf, take care of these, one and all. You have a heavy weight on your shoulders. You carry it well. Taŋyáŋ ománi yo.” Bon voyage.

  Turning to Wals, Merlin’s words were simple. “Protect her well. Protect it well.”

  “Thank you. It was…it was amazing meeting you!”

  Making a subtle gesture with his hand toward the castle, Merlin now spoke to Wolf. “You needn’t fear being seen. Do what you must.”

  Merlin and Archimedes moved back into the covering trees as the friends headed toward the bridge. A fog, thicker than the one on their arrival, now covered the region. The huge castle that always gleamed white even in the deepest darkness, had become a shadowy, vague object in the mist.

  “We won’t be able to see,” the owl complained, straining his neck forward. “I want to see what the wolf can do.”

  “Look again, friend owl.”

  “Ah, thank you, Master!”

  Within moments, a lingering howl drifted through the fog. The misty vapors seemed to pick up the sound and waft it in all directions. People who had been snug in their beds behind the thick castle walls heard and pulled the covers higher to their throats, glancing nervously at their open windows. As they peered this way and that over the darkened plain, the sentries on the towers were glad of the height of their assignment. They murmured to each other just to hear any other sound than that howl.

  The wolf’s howl triggered the vortex, as it always did. The still water of the moat began to be agitated, slowly at first, barely ripples, and then built into a swirling whirlpool. The foursome moved quickly toward the maelstrom, their hearts pounding even though they had gone through many times before. It never got easier.

  The water slammed against the side of the stones that formed the chosen arch. When the lightning struck the water and the air was filled with electricity, a shower of pink sparkles fell from the arch and a black darkness opened in front of them.

  “Now!” Wolf had to yell to be heard over the sound of the tumult. “All together, jump!”

  Eyes closed in fear, they jumped, the water engulfing them and, instantly, they disappeared from view.

  Content that they were safely on their way home, Merlin and Archimedes turned to head to their small cottage tucked securely in the forest.

  As the pink glitters began to fade and the waters began to calm, another person could be seen struggling against the waters, trying her hardest to reach the vortex. The water itself pushed against her, forcing her back inch by inch away from the core, rejecting her.

  Nimue cried out in frustration. She needed her pendant back. She understood the value, the power of being able to touch the stone and see into the future. Once you knew what your future would be, you had the power to either change it for the better, or profit by the foreknowledge. To her, that power was worth much more than any mere fortune the red diamond itself could bring.

  She was still struggling against the current when, suddenly, the pink light blinked out and the waters calmed. She was too late. Her pendant was, once again, gone.

  Copenhagen — 1951

  “This is it, Lillian! This is how the park should be!”

  Walt and his family had been on a tour of the Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen, Denmark for most of the day. Walt was clearly enthralled by the beautiful gardens, different types of architecture, and the band stands and cafés that filled out the property. They even rode on the wooden roller coaster that had debuted in 1914.

  “This park opened back in 1844 and you know what the founder Georg Carstensen said?” Arm in arm, Walt led his wife past a beautiful garden. The lush greenery surrounded a giant weeping willow that was dripping with tiny white lights. Lillian didn’t have a chance to reply before he enthusiastically continued. “He said ‘Tivoli will never, so to speak, be finished.’ Isn’t that something? He knew the gardens would keep growing more beautiful, the trees would get taller and more full, more rides could be added, different concerts and different shows could be presented in that Chinese-styled Pantomime Theatre! That’s vision, Lillian! That’s wanting to make something that will last forever!”

  He led them back to the Pantomime Theatre. “I want to see that curtain again. That was really neat. Do you think they’d let me go backstage to check it out?” Walt recognized a marvel when he saw one. The curtain was a mechanical wonder that took five men to operate and was painted and decorated to look like a brilliant peacock’s tail as it unfolded.

  After they watched the workings operate another four times, Lillian thanked the helpful workers for their time and led Walt back outside into the warm night filled with fairy-lights. Knowing her husband, she wanted to get his mind on something else so he didn’t go back inside. “Do you want to go see the train and the merry-go-round again, Walt?”

  Happy to comply, they walked along the winding path, fireworks going off overhead. As the family headed toward the train, Walt kept murmuring to himself, as if making mental notes. “A happy and unbuttoned air of relaxed fun. Yeah, the fireworks are a nice touch. The crowds seem to love them. Could use a castle, though. Yeah, a fairy castle, but not too big. No, we don’t want it to overshadow the park. And a bigger train. Yeah, a much bigger train. Say, Lillian,” he suddenly stopped and turned to face her, a big smile on his face, “remember that castle we saw in Germany?”

  Used to her husband’s rapid change of thoughts, she shook her head as a fond smile played over her face. “Which castle, Walt? There were so many. Which trip do you mean?”

  “You know, when we took the train through the Alps in 1935 with Roy and Edna. That huge white castle on the hill. Remember? The Neuschwanstein Castle, in Bavaria. Its name meant New Swan Stone, I believe. You think we should go look at it again?” His eyes sparkled with excitement with all the grand plans that whirled through his mind.

  When she realized Walt was thinking about his own park that he had been talking about for so long, Lillian reminded him why they were in Europe in the first place. “What about The Adventures of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men? Don’t you need to go back to the studio in England again for supervision? Do you really want to take the time to go all the way to Germany?”

  Treasure Island, back in 1949, had been Walt’s first British all-live-action film and had been both a critical and financial success, bringing the studio over two million dollars in profit. Now they were tackling the impressive story of Robin Hood.

  However, as usual, the idea of his own little park somewhere in Los Angeles was in the forefront of his mind. Already tinkering with the plans and the architecture and adding this new element or that kind of ride to his mental vision, he tried to skirt the reasoning Lillian had raised. “No, I think the boys at the studio are doing a fine job. I was just merely giving them suggestions, anyway, you know.”

  Lillian looked away and smiled in the darkness. She, as well as anyone at the studio, knew that any ‘suggestion’ from the boss was as good as engraved in gold…. “So, when do you think we should leave for Germany?”

  Walt put a fond arm around his wife. “I was thinking Thursday would be soon enough. Does that work for you and the girls? After all, we don’t have to be home until August!”

  Burbank — 1954

  “What are you working on, Herb?”

  Walt had just wandered into the Model Shop at the Studio. Herb was, at that moment, pondering the large model of Sleeping Beauty Castle in front of him. For instant comparisons, some of his hand-drawn artwork had been tacked onto the wall and the rest was
lying on the table next to the beautiful, highly detailed model. Acting on a spur-of-the-moment impulse, he had removed the top half of the castle and flipped it around just to see if that would make it look “different” enough from the Neuschwanstein Castle photographs that were next to his drawings. He was just about to set it back the way it had been built, like it was in the myriad of drawings and sketches he had done, when Walt walked in. His hands still hovering above the model, Herb said nothing in response to Walt’s question. He just waited to see how his boss would react.

  Walt cocked his head to the side as he stared silently at the new perspective. “I like it that way.” With that, he turned and left the room.

  October 27, 1954 marked the debut of Walt’s newest project, the television show on ABC that was called Disneyland. Walt looked at ease as he stood in front of a large, pristine model of the Sleeping Beauty Castle. Its top was now firmly reattached—and backward.

  Disneyland— 2008

  Sleeping Beauty Castle was now being seen from a different, highly unusual perspective—from the middle of the moat at half-past two in the morning.

  “We’ve gotta quit doing that.” Wals was exhausted as he slogged his way toward the firm ground surrounding Swan Lake. “Rose? Are you….” His words were cut off when an angry white swan paddled up next to him and bit him on the arm. “Aww, Rose, I hoped you would stay human when we came through. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  Sitting on the swan’s back, a miniaturized Merriweather was holding her head and groaning. “That’s quite a ride, wolf. Perhaps next time you can get it right…. There, there, my dear.” She broke off her angry tirade at Wolf when she saw how upset Rose was. Murmuring, she stroked the swan’s neck. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you home. Then we can figure out this strange enchantment you are under. If the century hadn’t been all wrong, I would have guessed it was that evil woman we just met.”