Wolf! Happily Ever After?

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  The boss was back.

  Walt awakened with a start. Frowning, he looked around his apartment and tried to get his bearings. Intense images, one after another, swirled around and around in his mind. His eyes finally focused on the little kitchenette, just across from the hide-a-bed sofa on which he had been lying. Not taking his eyes off of the two folding doors, he flung back the covers and stumbled to the white louvered doors, pulling open the one on the left.

  “It was here, right behind these dishes.” Frowning, he continued to mutter to himself as he pushed aside a stack of cups and saucers. Not believing what his eyes clearly told him, Walt reached in with a shaky hand. There was nothing to feel but the smooth Formica surface.

  Nothing. There was no pendant hidden behind the dishes.

  His hand came to rest on his forehead as he sorted through the images still racing through his mind. How can it be empty? Where is it? It had been so clear! It had all made sense.

  Walt, in a daze, went back to the sofa bed and slumped on the edge, his arms listless at his side. The pendant. Disneyland. All those people. The treasure. The chamber under Pirates. Tom Sawyer Island. Tobago. Merlin. It was so vivid.

  Looking at the clock, he was amazed it was almost noon. He figured he had slept for thirteen hours. Wow, I haven’t done that in a while. Musta dreamt the entire night.

  After he ran a hand through his hair, he headed for the bathroom to splash some water over his face. While he was drying off, his hands still slightly shaky from the thoughts in his head, Doctor Houser returned.

  “Hey, you’re up. How are you feeling, Walt? You had us worried. You’ve had a high fever for a couple of days.”

  “Days?” Walt echoed, amazed, his towel stopped in mid-air. “Fever? I remember I was a little sick to my stomach yest…. What day is this?” He gave a frown as he tried to sort it all out.

  “Thursday.”

  “Thursday.” Setting the towel in the sink, Walt wandered over to one of the tapestry wingback chairs in the sitting area and dropped heavily into it. He waved off the doctor’s look of concern. “No, no, I’m fine. Really. I…I just had the oddest dream. Or would it be considered a delusion when you have a fever?” He didn’t wait for the doctor to answer. “It was so vivid…. Do you ever dream about yourself, Claude? You know, weird dreams with all the people you know in them?”

  Dr. Houser smiled and glanced toward the door. They were alone. Wolf had gone back to check on his security detail. No one else had come in. “Yeah, all the time,” he finally admitted, and then had to laugh. “I’m usually naked and trying to get my high school locker combination right. Nobody seemed to notice, though….” He drifted off, leaving out the part about flying over everyone’s head.

  “Come in.” Two days later, Walt was at rest when the little bell on his door chimed. The doorbell sounded like it belonged on a child’s bicycle rather than on the private apartment of one of the most famous men in the world.

  A blond-headed man popped his face around the corner. “You ready to go to the studio, Walt? You have that promo for the Pirate attraction today.” When he got no response, he came further into the room and, remembering the past week, began to get worried. “You okay, boss?”

  Walt pulled his gaze from the kitchenette and that empty part of the cupboard. His eyes turned to his right-hand man and he gave a single nod. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just a little distracted, I guess.”

  “Anything wrong? You weren’t doing so well there for a while. That’s why the doc asked me to go with you to the Studio today.”

  “No, no. Not wrong, exactly. Just a strange dream, delusion, hallucination…I don’t know what to call it…I had while I was out of it.” Walt broke off, staring into the distance.

  “Musta been some dream.”

  “Yeah, it was.” Walt gave him a crooked smile. “You were in it, now that I think about it.”

  The blond head turned back from the entry door, his hand gripping the knob. “I was? Good guy or bad guy?”

  Ready to leave and right behind him, Walt affectionately slapped him in the shoulder. “Oh, you’re always a good guy.” He paused as if considering whether or not to reveal any more of the story. Thinking it would be good for a laugh, Walt decided to continue. “As a matter of fact….” Still more unsteady than he would admit, Walt broke off as they slowly walked down the stairs next to the Fire Station that led to the backstage area of Main Street. Once securely on the ground, he continued. “You were in charge of all of my affairs after I died and you even put me in a cryogenic chamber under Pirates.”

  “Really? Wow, that’s something!” He gave a light laugh and then had to think for a moment. “Um, that’s where you’re frozen, right?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Walt gave an uninterested shrug and waved away the suggestion. “I’ve never looked into it. Don’t plan to, either, so don’t get any ideas!” After they both chuckled at the idea, Walt went on with his dream. “Anyway, then you put into play this huge treasure hunt I had set up so I’d be remembered. It was…it was quite involved.” Walt momentarily stared off into space. ‘Involved’ seemed such an inadequate word to describe all he had seen. “I liked that part of it all. It sounded like fun.”

  He gave his boss a friendly pat on the arm, which brought his mind back to the present. “Oh, you don’t need a treasure hunt to be remembered, Walt. You’ll live forever!”

  Walt didn’t reply as they got into the waiting car Doctor Houser had also insisted on calling for him. The doctor didn’t want Walt driving himself around just yet. Walt wasn’t thinking about driving just then anyway. He was thinking of the phrase ‘live forever’ and the way the mysterious blond man had woven throughout his dream. Walt’s attention came back again when he heard the man talk to the driver. “Take us to the studio, Daniel, if you would. We’re a little bit late.”

  “Right away, sir. Afternoon, Mister Disney.”

  “Afternoon, Mister Crain. And, call me Walt,” Walt said automatically and then his eyes widened.

  If the studio chauffer wondered why Mister Disney’s startled gaze shot up to the rearview mirror after he returned the greeting, he knew better than to ask.

  Walt sat off to the side on the set of his promo, waiting quietly until he was needed. The forgotten script hung loosely from his hands. The vision was still strong in his mind while he watched people come and go as they readied the cameras and the lights, and set the props in place. One of his long-time employees came and sat down beside him. “H…how are you today, W...Walt?”

  The dream faded as he turned with a smile. “Lance! I was hoping you’d be here. How’s everything?”

  “G…good, thanks. Anything new and exciting going on, Walt?”

  Walt rubbed the back of his neck. The polo injury was bothersome today. I could use a massage right about now. “You mean besides New Orleans Square, the Jungle Cruise, the Haunted Mansion, Mineral King, Aspen, Niagra Falls, and the World’s Fair in New York? Naw, not much.”

  “Oh, good.” Lance gave an appreciate laugh. “J..Just as long as you’re not overworked! Well, they’re al…almost ready for you on the set. It’ll be an easy day today. I heard you were sick.”

  Walt looked him over fondly. “You know, Lance, with your good looks, you should be in front of that camera instead of my ugly mug. I could make you an honorary Mousekateer or an ambassador! How does that sound? Then I wouldn’t have to do these things!”

  Lance gave a silent laugh. He and Walt always got on well. Walt never made fun of his stutter. In fact, the boss always acted as if he never noticed it. “Well, I would, W…Walt, except for one little problem that I have.” With a smile, he held up two fingers about an inch apart.

  “Problem? You, Lance?” Walt pretended to be shocked. “Why, everyone thinks you’re just perfect.”

  “Yeah, hard to believe, huh? I t…try to hide it, but it’s always there.”

  “And what problem would that be?”

  Lance gave him a big grin.
“I…I’m shy!”

  Walt gave a hearty laugh and slapped Lance on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll have to work on that. Say, where’s your friend, Adam? I need him to build something for my train at Carolwood.”

  Walt didn’t think Lance heard him as the studio guard was smiling at a beautiful blond who approached Walt. There was a clipboard in her hand on which she was making notations. “We’re ready for you to take your place, Walt. Hey, there, Lance.” Her grin was almost, but not quite, timid as her green eyes sparkled. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  “Absolutely, Kimberly. I’m looking forward to it. I was going to pick you up around six if that’s a good time for you.”

  He was rewarded with a slow wink and devastating smile.

  As the long legs sauntered off, Walt got up from his chair and nudged Lance. “Say, Lance, how come you don’t stutter around her?”

  Lance looked back from admiring the view of Kimberly leaving. “I’m not sure. Maybe she scares it out of me!”

  With remnants of his dream still floating around in his mind, Walt gave Lance a parting, mysterious smile. “You’d better hang onto that one, then. A man can always use a woman who scares him a little.” Walt took a step away and then turned back to the security guard. “Say. Lance, let me ask you something. It’s going to sound odd, but bear with me.”

  His brown eyes narrowed with curiosity, Lance gave a good-natured shrug. “All right.”

  After a quick glance around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, Walt hesitated a moment longer and then blurted out, “Do you, by chance, own a gun?”

  Not expecting that, Lance’s eyes widened in surprise. “You planning something special, boss?”

  Hands thrown up to ward off the implication, Walt gave a self-conscious laugh. “No, no. Nothing like that.” He shook his head and ran a smoothing finger over his trademark mustache. This vision is going to make me sound like a raving loony, he said to himself. “I just wondered, that’s all.” Plus the fact that I saw you pull it on your best friends….

  “No, I don’t have a gun.” Lance suddenly gave his broad smile that had lit up many a room. “Besides, it probably wouldn’t work out that well for me if I did.”

  Now it was Walt’s turn to grin. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, say, for instance, t..that I wanted to fire just one warning shot. With my stutter, I would probably get off at least six rounds instead!”

  Head back, Walt gave a loud laugh. “That’s a good one, Lance!”

  “Thanks, W…Walt. Say, I’ll send Adam over when I find him. I think he’s working with the contractor in New Orleans Square today. Not sure, though. I’ll have to tell him right away. He’s getting married soon.”

  “To Beth?”

  Lance looked a little surprised. “W…why, yes. I didn’t know you knew them that well.”

  “She have a T-Bird?”

  “It’s her pride and joy,” he slowly nodded. “A bronze ’57. She won’t let me near it.”

  In actuality, Walt didn’t know Beth. But, how do you explain what you saw in the depths of a fever? Walt gave a small grunt and shook off the images that were still there in front of him. “What part of the Park does she work in?”

  Lance suddenly looked uneasy as his brown eyes darted away from Walt for a few seconds. “Well, s…she wanted to work at Disneyland, but she didn’t get hired.”

  Always quick, Walt caught the look. He sat back down and put his arm across the back of his chair as he turned to face Lance. “Really? Why not?”

  “I, uh, I think they’re waiting for you now, Walt.”

  “Let them wait.”

  Torn between being honest and not wanting to cause trouble, Lance hesitated. At Walt’s encouraging, get-on-with-it look, he went ahead. “Beth always had this dream to be a Keel Boat pilot, but she’s, well, she’s a girl!” He shrugged off the last part. That position only went to men, just like on the Jungle Cruise, where she had also tried.

  Walt knew the reason she hadn’t been hired. Lance didn’t have to spell it out for him. “Tell you what, Lance. Send this Beth to see me. You know how to reach me. We’ll see what we can do.”

  Lance gave a wide grin. “Th…thanks, Walt. That’ll mean a lot to the Captain!” In the moment, Lance forgot that Walt would have no idea of his nickname for Beth, one that he gave her back when they went to Anaheim High School together.

  “Captain Obvious. Yeah.” Walt chuckled, and didn’t see the surprised look that again came over his companion’s face. “That might shake things up a bit over there in Frontierland,” he mumbled to himself, a pleased look coming over his face. “Anyway, getting back to Adam…yeah, send him over when he can make it. He does beautiful work. Has he ever thought about running his own company?”

  “Every day.”

  When he could see Kimberly coming back for him, Walt grinned. “Uh oh, here comes the boss. I’d better get to work. See you later, Lance.”

  “Here, you go, Mister Disney. You’ll need one of these if you’re going to walk around in here.”

  “Thanks, Russell.” Walt accepted the hard hat and replaced his fedora with it. The worn wool hat was unceremoniously crushed into his jacket pocket as he tried to decide which way to go.

  As the foreman walked off, Walt looked around the huge excavated site. He was excited about his walk-through Haunted Mansion attraction, even though there were many differing ideas on what should be included, both inside and outside the area. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, the developers were not that excited about his Museum of the Weird Restaurant he wanted to place next to the mansion. He had already gotten his way on how the exterior would look. It had been proposed as a run-down antebellum mansion with tall weeds and dead trees decorating the grimy exterior. The boss had finally put his foot down and insisted on a pristine white building. “We’ll take care of the outside and let the ghosts take care of the inside,” Walt had told them, that debate once and for all ended. Now the Imagineers were going back and forth on whether the scenes should be scary or funny. The mock-ups they had made in their WED Enterprises studio had been so frightening that the nightly cleaning crews told them to clean their own studios.

  Chuckling over that incident, Walt spied the one he wanted to talk to. “Adam!” With a wave, he called over the young, wavy-haired blond man who was consulting a set of blueprints.

  Looking up, Adam was surprised to see it was Walt himself who was motioning him over. After he got a go-ahead from the foreman, Adam set the prints on a plank set over two sawhorses. He had to carefully walk over the assorted rebar and pipes already laid out. His soft brown eyes seemed curious as he greeted the boss. “How are you today, Walt?”

  “I’m good, thanks. Say, I was just talking to your friend Lance. He probably hasn’t had time to call you yet.”

  Adam gave a friendly smile at the mention of his popular friend. Everyone knew Lance. “No, I haven’t heard from him in a while. He’s probably busy with one of his ladies, I’m sure.”

  “Well, glad to hear you two are still friends.” Not aware of what he had said, Walt confused the waiting Adam. “I wanted to ask you about this little project I have in mind for my train back home….”

  Adam nodded as Walt mentioned his favorite hobby, but wondered why the boss suddenly stopped talking and walked over to a stack of gray plastic pipe. There was a large pile that had been unloaded off to the side, waiting to be installed. Curious, he watched as Walt picked up a smaller length of what looked like a six-inch diameter pipe and began to study it closely. Walt next reached into his pocket, pulled out his car keys, and dropped them into the open end of the thick pipe. When the keys thunked against the secure end cap, Walt then lightly shook the pipe, listening.

  “Umm, working on some new sound effects, Walt?” Adam ventured as he came up next to the boss.

  “What?” Walt’s attention seemed far away when he turned to face the construction worker. Recovering quickly, he gave a small grin. “Oh, no. I w
as just…I just….” I just realized this is the capsule that all the clues had been buried in…. “What is this, exactly?”

  “That’s the latest thing in electrical pipe. This stuff is great and it’s supposed to last forever. It’s called PVC conduit. Electricians run wires through it. What you’re holding is a conduit. And those are the pipe connectors,” Adam pointed to a different stack, “and over there are the end caps, like the one already on the pipe you’re holding. When the pipe is gray, it’s electrical conduit. If it was white, it’d be used as underground water pipe. The electricians will use glue to hold the connectors and caps firmly in place, once they’re set.” He wasn’t sure how much more of an explanation was needed as Walt stared at the short length in his hand, already having retrieved his keys from it. “Did you want to keep that?” Adam gave a vague shrug, not sure what else to say.

  Walt handed it back to him, and smiled self-consciously. “No, no. Thanks for the information.” Walt dusted his hands off on his slacks and seemed unsure what to do next. He gave a final stare at the gray pipe and raised his hand in a good-bye for Adam. “Thanks again. Oh, and congratulations on your upcoming marriage.”

  As Walt carefully made his way back to the entry gate of the Haunted Mansion construction site, Adam just stood there staring at the retreating figure. Odd interview aside, it never ceased to amaze him how the boss seemed to know everything about everyone. It was then he realized Walt hadn’t finished telling him what was needed for his train. He glanced up when the foreman came over, and gave Russell the I-have-no-idea-what-he-wanted look. Adam figured he would be contacted again when he was wanted.

  Walt leaned against the railing on the drawbridge of Sleeping Beauty Castle, facing the water and lost in thought. “It all started with a moose.” His eyes followed a black-masked, white swan as it sedately swam in the green water of the moat below. Before it could disappear under the arched passageway, the beautiful bird looked up at the man and gave a loud hiss. Suddenly flapping its wings, it came halfway out of the water, straight at Walt. Startled, eyes wide, he whispered, “Rose?” as the swan settled back into the water. Her ruffled feathers were settled, and, with a few strong kicks, placidly swam out of his sight. Heart pounding, he shook his head, a small, black leather book clutched in his hand, his knuckles white.