After he examined the vending machine, Mato came over to where Lance and Wals stood. Lance had gotten him a bag of potato chips, but he didn’t seem too enthused by the greasy potatoes. Without saying a word, his expression clearly asked: “Well?”
Wals held up two fingers. “Two nights before we can go to Wolf.”
With rolled eyes, Mato stalked off to a window that overlooked a busy backstage thoroughfare. Costumed cast members, dressed in everything from the Jungle Cruise’s safari gear to Princess Belle’s golden ball gown, casually walked to their lockers or back onstage after a break. He stared at a few trucks that were in view, waiting to deliver some boxes to different stores around the Park. His brother had mentioned his Mustang that wasn’t a horse and could carry five people and Mato wondered if those trucks were anything like that.
“What am I going to do with him for two nights? He almost pulled his knife when Goofy walked by!” Wals hissed to Lance when Mato was far enough away. “It’s not funny, Lance!”
The security guard thought otherwise. His eyes betrayed the humor he didn’t allow to show on his face. Knowing how proud Wolf was, he didn’t want to insult his brother.
“We’ll think of something, Wals. We just need to get him away from here for now. Besides the fact that he can’t speak English very well and isn’t actually a cast member, this is probably overwhelming for him.”
Wals had to nod in agreement at that understatement. “Should I take him to Wolf’s place? Do you think he’d recognize anything that would feel like home?”
Lance scrunched up his face for a moment. “I don’t think so.” His mind went over the things he had seen in Wolf’s barren apartment. “I know what you mean, but I can’t remember anything in there that might be familiar to him.” He gave a tilt of his chin toward Mato. “I can’t even imagine what he must be thinking right now.” Just outside the window, the characters from Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland were getting ready for a parade down Main Street. “Why don’t we take him to my place? My son Peter would love to talk to him. Wolf taught him quite a bit of Lakota. Maybe that’d help the situation. Wolf’s car is still in the parking lot. Take that. Mato might enjoy knowing it belongs to Wolf.”
Wals’ eyes lit up. Even though he had a powerful Nissan 300ZX, he always admired Wolf’s classic 1967 Mustang GT Fastback and had always wanted to drive it. He tried to hide the excitement in his eyes. “If you’re sure your wife won’t mind us coming over.”
Lance gave him a wide, unconcerned smile. “Kimberly loves surprises.”
Mato’s eyes grew wide as they approached the bright red car. Just looking all the similar-looking ‘things’ as they sat motionless in the parking lot was one thing. Being expected to climb into one of them with the realization that it was going to ‘do something’ is another. He saw Lance disappear into the darkness inside and could feel waves of heat come from the opening that had swallowed Lance. When Wals cheerfully dropped into the other side of the car, he knew what was expected of him. Banging his head lightly on the doorframe, he muttered something sour in Lakota. Glancing over at Wals again, he saw him tug on a silver piece of metal that shut the door and closed him in. With another unheard curse, he mimicked Wals’ action and silently braced himself for whatever evil was to come.
Once the men were settled into the car, Lance felt he needed to get Wals’ mind off the problems at hand and had a trivia question for him. “You’re pretty much known as a Disney expert, right?”
Wals was more interested in settling into the soft leather driver’s seat than testing his Disney knowledge at the moment. “I guess. Why?” He only half listened as Wolf’s 427 roared to life, his hand on the shifter, ready to goose it and drop some rubber in the parking lot. That should show Mato what this kind of Mustang could do.
Lance could see the feral gleam in Wals’ eyes in the rear view mirror and ignored it. “Tell me this: When did Walt drive a De Soto?”
Their heads suddenly jerked backward in unison as Wals’ blasted out of the parking space. “Walt never drove a De Soto.” He gave an exuberant grin as the car shot forward and kicked up a cloud of dust behind them.
Deciding it would be sensible to buckle his seatbelt, Lance had to wait a moment for the centrifugal force to end after Wals’ pulled a hard right onto Harbor Boulevard, and, thankfully for all, had to slow down. “Oh? We know Walt didn’t like to advertise something he didn’t use. So tell me, why did he do a photo shoot for De Soto in 1939?”
Silver Lake — 1939
The photographer from Life Magazine was ready for one more shot. “All right, Mr. Disney, how about if you remove your jacket and change into this striped shirt? I’d like you to settle down onto this yard chair. This one’s also going to be titled ‘Walt Disney, You’ve Got Another Hit.’”
As Walt got comfortable in the bright yellow chair, a man dressed like a butler stood at the front of the red 1939 De Soto S6, a silver tray held in one hand. Walt smiled broadly for the camera, his red socks a perfect match for both the car and the hubcaps set into the whitewalls. In the background were the large trees that lined his street.
The first set of pictures had been with the car backed into his driveway. He had been told the photograph would be shaded differently so the car would appear brown in the ads. Standing in the same light blue trousers, he had worn a tan jacket and matching hat, and held a square brown case in his left hand. The vine-covered arched entry of his house was just behind him.
Glad that his subject was so cooperative, the photographer was happy to see the natural, broad smile on Walt’s face. Little did he know about a certain conversation several days earlier.
Walt had been discussing the request from the De Soto people with his mother, Flora. He refused to pose for a car advertisement and have it sound as if he drove that particular car. Even the offer to give him one of their cars was not incentive enough for Walt to make a false claim. When he told Flora of his decision, she asked him why not and told him he could always give the car to them.
His parents loved that little car and Walt was happy to have been able to provide it for them.
Fullerton Hills— 2008
The Mustang roared to a sliding stop in the curved driveway of Lance and Kimberly’s mansion in the Fullerton Hills. Originally built by Walt Disney as a gift for his right-hand man, it had passed to the next generation of Guardians—the Blond-Haired Man’s daughter and her husband. Wals knew nothing of the Guardianship or the impressive, high-tech War Room on the third floor. It was in that room that Lance, Kimberly, and Wolf kept their eyes on the goings-on at the Park in their efforts to protect Walt, his Hidden Mickey quests, and his legacy.
“So, that’s the story of Walt’s De Soto.” Wals smiled as he let go of the red steering wheel and reluctantly got out of the car.
Lance unfolded his six-foot-two frame from the tight backseat and shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a thing you said after you passed that police car on the hill.”
Dropping the keys in his pocket, Wals was unrepentant. “Hey, he was going like ten miles-per-hour. He didn’t pull us over, did he?”
“Probably still in shock,” Lance mumbled.
Unconcerned about the conversation going on around him, Mato emerged from the passenger side, a huge smile plastered on his face. He slowly walked around the car once more, now with a whole different admiration for the strange Mustang.
The front door banged open and a small boy came running out. “Unka Wolf! Unka Wolf!” He skidded to a stop when Mato turned to face him. “You aren’t Unka Wolf.”
“Who is it, honey?” His mother, a stunning blond, followed him out into the bright sunlight, her hand easily resting on her stomach. She instantly recognized the car, but not the passenger.
Going up to his wife, Lance gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I brought someone home for you to meet.”
“In Wolf’s car?” Confused, she still gave Wals a relieved smile as he motioned for the blanket-wrapped stranger to come forward. “Welco
me back, Wals. I’m glad you’re all right.”
Wals pointed at the house for Mato’s benefit. “Lance’s tipi.”
Impressed, Mato craned his neck to see up to the third floor. “Big tipi.”
“This is Wolf’s brother.”
“He did it,” Kimberly unbelievingly whispered to Lance. “Wals actually brought him back!”
Peter had walked all the way around the new visitor, not yet daring to touch the deerskin quiver of arrows or the bone handle of what appeared to be a knife stuck into a beaded belt. When he had Mato’s attention, he looked up at the brave and pointed at his chest. “I’m Peter. Táku eníčiyapi he?” What’s your name?
Mato first had to smile at the miniature version of the tall man Lance. Then he answered the boy’s question. “I am Mato.”
“Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíŋyaŋke ló,” Pleased to meet you. The six-year-old grinned back at him, obviously pleased with himself that he remembered the words Wolf had taught him.
Wals had wandered over to Lance. “This was a good idea of yours. Mato already looks more relaxed.”
“Yeah, I think he and Peter are going to get along just fine.” Lance looked over at Kimberly. “Do you think we have anything he can wear? I’m sure he’s going to want to do some sightseeing while he’s here.”
“Lance, he didn’t just fly in from Nebraska for the weekend,” his wife flatly reminded him. “Does he realize it will be two nights before he and Wals can leave?”
They looked at Wals, who nodded. “Yes. Well, I think he does. Maybe Peter can find out for sure.”
Peter, clearly delighted with their guest, was leading Mato inside the mansion. “Taŋyáŋ yahí,” Welcome.
“I guess we’re all going inside.” Immensely proud of his son, Lance held out his hand so his wife could go on in ahead of him. “Wals, why don’t you plan on staying here, too? It might be a good idea for Mato to have someone familiar at hand. Even though,” he paused for a laugh, “I don’t think Peter’s going to give him any rest.”
As Wals looked around the large foyer, his eyes traveled up the polished hardwood walls to the second story landing. Is that an elevator? Beyond the distinctive door, he noticed the antiques that sat on elaborate pedestals or within lighted nooks in the walls. “Well, if you think you have the room.” The next doorway off to their left showed a formal sitting room.
Lance clapped a friendly hand on Wals’ shoulder and then wiped the resulting dust off onto his pants. “I think we can manage. We might have to set up a cot in Peter’s room, if that’s all right.” To his wife, he continued with his earlier suggestion. “There might be some of Daniel’s clothes still in the room over the garage. I’ll go see if there’s anything that might fit Mato.”
Grimacing at the mention of her abusive uncle, now dead and buried in the past, Kimberly nodded and unconsciously rubbed the scars on her arm. Now, as she felt them, it all flooded back, unwelcome, to her mind. Daniel had kidnapped her and used a knife to hold her captive, inflicting a series of unnecessary cuts on her arm just to keep her in line. He had even successfully stolen the red diamond Hidden Mickey pendant from Kimberly and Lance. Wolf had interceded, opened a vortex, and then both Wolf and Daniel had disappeared from Disneyland’s Tom Sawyer’s Island. Her memory then turned to Lance and how Daniel had bashed his head with a rock earlier that same day. Not only did she have a few scars—both mental and physical—from the traumatic incident, but her husband also had his own scar. His, though, were in the form of infrequent headaches that still bothered him to this day.
Seeing her pause as she looked down at her arm, he realized where her thoughts had gone. Lance gave her a gentle hug. “He’s gone, sweetheart.” After his reassuring whisper, he kissed her ear. “I’ll be right back.”
Glad to turn her attention back on her unexpected guests, Kimberly idly wondered what she and Lance should fix for dinner. She now had three grown men in the house to feed. Kimberly gave a light laugh as she thought about Wolf’s rare appearances at their dinner table. He would just stoically shove anything placed in front of him into his mouth. She never knew if he liked it, loved it, or hated it. Now Wolf’s brother was here and she figured more than likely Mato would be exactly the same way.
She was still laughing about this when she went upstairs to make sure everything was tidy and in place in the guest rooms.
Sitting in Lance’s comfortable study after Peter had been put to bed, the three men sat back and stared into the crystal Waterford glasses Lance had just passed around. The single-malt Scotch inside the glass was unfamiliar to Mato. As he looked over at Wals, Mato noticed that he enjoyed the sparkling effects on the walls and ceiling when the lamplight hit the multi-faceted glass filled with this amber liquid. After Wals took a satisfying sip of the thirty-year-old Balvenie, Mato put his nose to the glass and quickly pulled away as the potent liquid overpowered his nostrils. He then pointedly set his glass aside.
“I really think we need something else, Lance,” Wals was saying as Kimberly came into the room. He paused while she settled herself comfortably into Lance’s lap. “I told you about the memory loss the Island had on both Rose and myself, right?”
Lance nodded. “The doctor, too, if I remember correctly.”
“Yeah, right. I keep forgetting about him for some reason. Even when I went back to get Mato, I could feel the Island work on me again. I had to take off my name tag and continually hold it in my hand just to stay in my reality.”
Able to follow most of the conversation, the amused Mato spoke up in his deep voice. “It was in my father’s place of speeches. That place puts everyone to sleep. You stared off in the distance until you touched it again.”
Nodding, Wals continued. “That’s what I’m worried about with Wolf. I know he’s under some kind of powerful spell, but I noticed that his eyes started to clear a little when he said his brother’s name,” as he indicated the interested warrior who got up to pace the room. “I know he probably wants Mato as a recall of reality, but could it be possible that he may also need some other kind of a touchstone beside the obvious one of his brother? Something he can see or touch?”
“We have access to his Disneyland name tag and his security badge,” Kimberly pointed out. “Do you want to take one of those?”
Wals sighed and looked out past them toward the darkened window behind Lance. “I don’t know if his name tag or badge will be big enough. Then there’s the problem of getting it to him. If he’s capable of lunging at me like he did, I’m afraid something that small might not be enough.”
Lance looked back at his wife. “Is there something from any of Walt’s Hidden Mickey quests that we might use? What all was there?”
“Well, you have a stock certificate from the railroad and some animation cels.” She had a thoughtful frown on her face as she went through the treasures Lance and Adam had found with Walt’s clues. “There’s that key that opened the telephone and…and the other place.” She caught herself before she accidently told Wals about the secret room above Main Street where they had first found the pendant. “But those are all small items, too. What else was there?”
Lance was about to begin listing off the other pieces of memorabilia. “Adam and Beth have most of the other things we found.” He paused when Kimberly suddenly got up from his comfortable lap and joined Mato to pace back and forth across the ancient Persian rug. “Was it something I said?”
“No, no. I just need to walk.” She waved him off and indicated for him to continue.
Lance counted off what he could remember. “Let’s see. Adam has more of the animation cels, more stock certificates, an engineer’s hat and that Disneyland flag from the locker in the Marceline school, the deed to the Golden Oak property—you know, we really need to go out there again soon.” He broke off as that random thought suddenly popped into his mind. At their blank looks, he muttered, “Never mind. Oh, there was also the broken gold piece from Tobago, and Walt’s Number One name tag. And whatever it was A
dam and Beth found at the end of their search.” He finished, and had followed his wife’s lead to not reveal more than Wals needed to know.
Wals just shook his head as each item was listed. Most of it had sounded like things that either wouldn’t survive the trip through the water very well, or were valuable. He really didn’t want to attempt taking anything like that unless it was absolutely necessary. “Wait a minute, what flag did you say? Some kind of Disneyland flag? What does it look like?”
At his question, Kimberly went to the shelves behind Lance and pulled down a brightly colored book on the history of Disneyland. “Give me a sec.” Flipping a few pages, she showed it to Lance who nodded. The book was then handed to Wals so he could see the bright orange, rectangle-shaped flag with the face of Mickey Mouse in the center. Only, this Mickey was very different than the current version. That flag had to be decades old. The caption under the picture read: “The only flag to fly over Disneyland and Marceline” and, in the photo, school children held the flag out from the flagpole so it showed Mickey’s face.
Wals frowned as he looked at the picture. “I’ve seen that flag before.”
“Yeah, there’s one flying over Walt’s apartment, and two smaller ones over the train station on Main Street.” Going over to Wals, Lance tapped the picture with his finger. “This flag was taken from Disneyland and given to the school children in Marceline. It’s the only place Walt allowed that official flag to be flown other than at Disneyland.”
“And you said Adam has it now?”
Lance nodded. “It was part of our find in Marceline. So, yes, I’m sure he still has it. Adam’s quite the collector.” He gave a knowing smile when he remembered how Adam’s face lit up when they discovered Walt’s first name tag hidden in a secret compartment in the diary that had started it all for them. Yes, he was positive Adam still had the flag.
They could see Wals hesitation. “Do you think we could, you know, borrow it from Adam? It sounds pretty valuable, historically speaking. But, it looks large enough and that flag just might do the trick.”
Wolf! Happily Ever After? Page 16