“Yes, sir.” Lance goose-stepped over to the sofa and stiffly sat on the edge of the cushion, pushing two throw pillows to the other side of the sectional.
Adam didn’t even notice the sarcasm. Frowning, Lance watched Adam unzip the backpack and throw the various items they had been allowed to bring on the race all over the coffee table and the floor. Then Adam paused, slowly pulling out something Lance didn’t recognize. It looked like a small book.
“Is that what you found in the men’s room? What is it? A book?” His irritation eased a little as his curiosity took over. Leaning forward, he looked closer at the fairly old book in Adam’s hands.
Adam ran his fingers lightly over the cover. Seemingly mesmerized by the object, his eyes were wide and excited when he finally raised them to answer Lance. “This is a book. And…,” Adam paused, “I believe this is a very special book.” Looking back down at the object in question, he turned it over in his hands. “And no, I didn’t find it in the men’s room.” Here he broke off and swallowed, thinking back on what he had done. A little more nervous, he took another deep breath. “I found it in Walt’s Apartment. Remember when I asked you to make that diversion?”
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do? Steal one of the antiques? Do you know how much trouble we could get into for that?” Lance sprang to his feet. This was too much. First Adam made them lose valuable race time. Then he demanded they quit early and leave. And now he did something that could get them banned from the Park and probably thrown in jail!
Before Lance could voice more of his misgivings, Adam threw up his hands. “No! It wasn’t like that!” Adam became instantly irritated at his friend. Then, realizing Lance had nothing to do with this, he calmed himself. “I would never do something like that. You should know that.” At Lance’s silent and condemning glare, he felt he had better get to the point. “Well, I wouldn’t steal anything like that.”
Lance didn’t seem too convinced. “Then what is it?”
Adam brought the book over to the sofa and offered it to the frowning Lance. “Why don’t you read it for yourself and tell me what you think it is.”
When Lance sat back down with the book, Adam went to his refrigerator and got them each a beer. He popped Lance’s and set it in front of him. His he took over to the desk and threw himself back in his chair, propping his feet on the edge of the desk. As Adam watched his friend’s face while he read, he saw what he expected to see—what he himself had gone through. Lance’s face went from angry to suspicious to confused to interested to excited.
Lance read the book through again before he looked up from the yellow-edged pages. His eyes were wide, just like Adam’s had been when he first came out of the men’s room. “Do you know what this is?”
“I know what I think it is. What do you think it is?”
Lance didn’t want to voice his opinion yet. This was extraordinary. “Tell me again where you found it and how.”
Adam reiterated how he had unthinkingly sat in the first chair he came to and felt something poke him. After getting Lance to create a diversion, he had ripped open the back of the cushion and found this crammed inside between all the stuffing. He then jammed it down his shorts when everyone suddenly came back into the room.
Lance’s eyes were as big as Adam’s now. “You found this hidden in Walt’s private apartment. In one of his chairs. Do you recognize the handwriting?”
Adam nodded slowly. He considered himself an expert on Walt and all things Disney. There was a prized autographed picture of Walt won in an auction that hung on the wall. Yes, he knew the handwriting. He knew it was written by Walt himself.
Lance just stared at him. “So, you think this is legit? You think he means it?”
Adam knew Lance was referring to what was written inside. He continued to nod slowly. It was all he seemed capable of doing at the moment. This was big. This was monumental. It would take planning. It would take work. It would take time.
“Me, too.” Lance understood Adam’s silent nod. He gave a slow smile. “Now I know why I hang around with you. You always come up with the darnedest things!” He stared back down at the book for a moment. “But this….this!” Lance was, for once, at a loss for words.
Adam walked back over to the sofa and reached out his hand for the book. He had to touch it again. Had to make sure it was real. He had to read it again. Falling back into his armchair, ignoring the cloud of dust that billowed out, he read through the book again.
Here is what it said:
“To all who come to this happy place—welcome. Disneyland is your land. Here age relives fond memories of the past and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future. Disneyland is dedicated to the ideals, the dreams, and the hard facts that have created America with the hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration to all the world.
And, to you who found my little black book—welcome.
People still think of me as a cartoonist, but the only thing I lift a pen or pencil for these days is to sign a contract, a check, or an autograph. That is not the case now.
I don’t know who it is who will find this legacy that I am leaving behind. Now, I’m not getting maudlin here. Facts are facts. This cough of mine is getting worse. And those doctors can’t seem to do a thing about it.
Maybe I’m wrong. I hope so. I’m going to continue working as I always have. There’s so much to be done. Hey, I might even pop in on you going through this little book of mine and we can have a big laugh together! Wouldn’t that be keen?
Now, considering that you did find my book and considering where you found it, hopefully you love Disneyland as much as I do. If that is true, you no doubt recognize the first words I wrote up there. I said them on a proud occasion. Maybe you were there. I was! I said then that we would relive fond memories of the past. Well, that is what we are going to do together. This is important to me. It was important to me when it all happened and it is important to me now.
I only hope that we don’t lose sight of one thing—that it all started with a moose.
No, I didn’t get that wrong. My hand might be a little shaky with all this coughing, but you read it right. No, I’m not talking about Mickey. There is a Mouse and there is a Moose. I’m talking about Morris the Midget Moose. Now that was a good cartoon! If you aren’t familiar with it, go watch it. But, anyway, the whole plot came down to one thing: Two heads are better than one.
Why am I telling you this? Well, you might need some help on the journey I’m sending you on. Choose your partner well. I always tried to.
I know. I’m rambling. I’m entitled. This is my life.
You want a hint at what lies ahead? Okay. There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate’s loot on Treasure Island. But you aren’t going after any book. You already found that.
Curious? When you are curious, you find lots of interesting things to do. We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths. I hope you find your new paths interesting. You are going to find a lot of different ones.
I just got in late last night after getting the last piece situated and I’m tired. It has taken me a few years to get all this in place for you. I’ve been planning it for a long time. Today I reviewed everything I set up and I think I got it right. I did everything I could to make sure it was secure. Now it is up to you. I want you to know here and now that I’m going to make you work for it—whatever it is.
There are three things you need to do on this Quest I am sending you on. You could call it a Quest for Hidden Mickey’s: (Hey! That would be a good title for a cartoon! I’ll have to remember that.)
1. I want you to appreciate where you are going,
2. I want you to appreciate what happened there, and,
3. I want you to appreciate whatever you might find.
Look around and learn. Never stop learning. Never get too busy to learn from what you do. And, whatever you find, put
it to good use. Remember me. Maybe this is my way of living forever. I’ve always wanted to outlive my dreams. Perhaps you can help me do just that!
So, here is what I want you to figure out first. This is your first clue: Do some belly botany under the Dreaming Tree. From where I stand, it’s down 2 feet. Bring a shovel.
I always said the way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.
So begin doing.”
Adam finished reading the diary again. There were some more pages after the clue, but they were all blank. Flipping through a few of them, he saw something he hadn’t noticed before. Quite a few of the last pages looked like they were glued together. Running his fingers over the top sheet, there was a soft spot in the middle.
Lance was still waiting for Adam to finish with the book so they could start discussing it. When he saw Adam analyzing the last pages that he, too, thought were blank, he came over to the chair at the odd look on Adam’s face. “What is it? Did you find something?” Lance watched as Adam ran his finger along something near the center of the page.
Adam was still lightly pressing around the edges of the soft spot. He found a hollow opening about two and a half inches wide by a little over one and a half inches high. Not sure if he should do this or not, he brought the book up to his ear and lightly shook it. There was a dull thud inside. He handed the book to Lance for his opinion. “What do you make of that?”
Lance did the same maneuvers Adam had done. “Feels like the pages are cut out inside and there’s something in there. Whatever it is isn’t very big. Want to open it?”
“Yes. No.” Adam was undecided. He wanted to know what was in there, but he didn’t want to rip open Walt’s diary. He didn’t want to damage anything else. After voicing his concern, he looked up at Lance. “Any suggestions?”
“Well, we can stand here all day guessing, but that won’t tell us anything. How about if we make a small slit and use a flashlight to see what’s in there?”
Nodding, glad to have the decision made for him, Adam went to his desk and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a pocketknife. “There’s a Mag light in my toolbox in the closet.”
Lance was back in time to see Adam make a small incision in the middle of the page. Using the light, carefully pulling up the edge of the slit, they could see the glint of gold inside. That did it. The two men looked at each other with eager smiles on their faces. “Okay, we open it.” Adam’s voice rang with authority and excitement, making the instant decision without waiting for Lance’s vote. The slit was extended across the width of the false top and a cross cut was made the other way.
It wasn’t gold that Adam pulled out of the diary, but an oval piece of bronze metal. It was two inches wide by one and a quarter inches high. The bronze was thick and stamped Disneyland in raised letters across the middle. Embossed stars extended around the edges all the way up to a little round plate attached to the top that had the number 1 stamped on it. On the back was a hinged straight pin so it could be worn.
“Oh wow oh wow!” Adam let out an excited gush of air. “Do you know what this is, Lance?!” His eyes danced over the object as he turned it over and over in his hands. “Do you know what this is?!” Adam held the brass object out to Lance, a huge grin spread over his face.
Lance took the gold-colored object and looked it over. Considering the probable age of the diary, it was still very bright with no scratches or signs of age. “It’s the shape of a cast member nametag, but it doesn’t have a name on it. Just a number 1. It’s in great shape, whatever it is.” He handed it back to Adam.
Adam took it over to a trophy case he had on the wall. It held a number of items from Disneyland and some of them were cast member nametags he had collected from different years at the Park. He held up the new item to compare it in size. It was somewhat smaller than the ones he had.
“Lance!” Adam turned back to his friend, his eyes shining with excitement. “This is a cast member nametag.” Adam paused, falling back on an accumulation of Disney trivia collected over a twenty-year period. “When Disneyland first opened, the employees didn’t wear their names and hometowns like they do now. They wore a badge with a number on it. This is one of those first nametags. And, if I am guessing right, this was Walt’s own nametag. Who else would possibly wear Number 1?” He sat heavily on the sofa next to Lance. “This is amazing! I read that the Disney Archives doesn’t even have one of these nametags! What a find!”
Lance looked impressed. “That’s a pretty rare piece of Disney memorabilia. Pretty cool. Do you think…?” He broke off, unsure of voicing the startling thought that just entered his mind.
Adam was looking steadily at him. He knew where Lance was heading. “Do I think what?” Let Lance say it.
“Do you think this is an example of the treasure that Walt wrote about in his diary? Do you think this will be a treasure hunt of sorts?”
Adam thought for a moment and then nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. He talked about the past and a legacy he was leaving behind.” Adam sobered for a moment. “He must have realized he wasn’t going to be around as long as he would have liked. Maybe he had a premonition about the cough he alluded to in the diary.” Adam felt his heart suddenly pound in his chest. He looked over at the worn black book sitting on the coffee table between them and suddenly wondered if they now had a long-lost treasure map to something like Blackbeard’s fabled treasure…or the Lost Dutchman’s gold mine of Disney Artifacts! “Lance, this could be big.”
Lance picked up the diary and looked at the worn cover. “Who do you think this was written for?” Hesitant, Lance wasn’t sure if he wanted to explore that aspect too deeply.
Taking the diary from him, Adam looked back through the wording. “He doesn’t name anyone specific. Doesn’t mention family or employees or stockholders. Nobody. He even says he doesn’t know who will find it…. I think its fair game for whoever finds the book, don’t you?” His voice resonated with the hope that he was accurate in his assessment.
Lance looked wary, but excited. “I’m no lawyer, but it sounds that way to me, too.” He hesitated even longer before he spoke again. “Do you think we should run it by someone who might know?”
Not liking the sound of that, Adam shook his head slowly. “That might open up a whole set of problems and questions....” Adam paused as he set the diary back on the coffee table. “Questions that I don’t think we want to answer regarding how we came to possess this book.” He started pacing his living room, still holding the nametag tightly in his hand. If he had looked, he would have seen the word ‘Disneyland’ imprinted in his palm from the raised letters of the tag. “We would have to explain where I found it and how I found it. I’m not inclined to think that would go over very well. Do you?”
Lance thought the question was rhetorical, but realized Adam wanted his input and help with the decision. “Well, you did rip open the chair cushion….”
“Five stitches, man, five stitches! It’s not like I took a butcher knife to it.…”
Lance threw up a calming hand. “Hey, I know that, but I doubt the Powers That Be would agree. I do see your point, though. Do you think we should keep this to ourselves for the time being and see where this clue leads? We could always tell someone later.”
“Much later.” Mumbling to himself, Adam was thinking he would tell someone in his will after he was dead and buried. He looked up to meet Lance’s eyes and they silently studied each other for a moment. “Partners, then? We follow Walt’s Hidden Mickey Quest and find what there is to find and go from there?” His right hand was extended.
Lance met his hand and they solemnly shook on it. “Partners.” After the firm handshake, the two picked up their beers and simultaneously chugged. They smiled and tilted their bottles towards each other in a silent toast to their find.
“So, I get to keep the nametag, right?” Adam’s question was immediate. At Lance’s skeptical look, he felt he needed to defend himself. “Hey, I do have a collection already
.… Fine, we’ll divvy it up whenever this is over.” Adam was disappointed, but tried not to show it. “I do suggest we keep these things in my safe.” Adam walked to a cupboard under his kitchen counter. A concealed latch revealed a compact safe with its pale green steel door and black tumbler lock which Adam opened with a few turns of the combination. “I don’t keep much in here, but it will at least keep the diary and nametag safe from fire and theft.… Not that I’ve ever been robbed…and I don’t smoke....” Adam broke off from his rambling, looking at the nametag with a smile—a triumphant smile that revealed how he felt about holding history in the palm of his hand.
Watching Adam, Lance silently chuckled to himself. He didn’t care about the nametag. Adam would appreciate it far more than he ever would. He had a feeling there was a lot more at stake here than a simple nametag. He just liked messing with Adam’s mind now and then.
Before Lance handed over the leather-bound diary to Adam for safe keeping, he read through the last part again—the part that said it was their first clue. “So, Partner, what is belly botany and what in the world is a dreaming tree?”
Adam looked up from the safe after setting the nametag carefully on the small top shelf inside. The nametag was an incredible find—even to a small-time collector of Disney memorabilia like himself. He pulled his mind from the valuable piece of bronze to what Lance had asked. Adam gave him the ‘no clue’ shrug.
The diary was finally placed on the bottom shelf of the safe and Adam slowly shut the steel door. He gave the tumbler dial one last spin for good measure. “I guess now we follow Walt’s advice and get to work.”
1962
He stood in the shade of a huge cottonwood tree that had to be over a hundred years old. It was in full leaf now that summer was here. The heat was oppressive, the humidity high. After wiping the pieces of bark off the blade, he slid his worn pocketknife back into his slacks pocket. Had it been this hot before? he asked himself as he fanned his flushed face with his beat-up old Fedora. Probably, he decided. But you don’t remember the heat or the humidity or the chiggers. You remember things. Things like this tree and the wooden swing that used to hang from a lower branch, the barn that was tilting precariously to the left, the dusty lane leading out to the main road, the farmhouse, the orchards of apples and peaches and plums, Yellow Creek, the white gazebo in town, the Santa Fe trains. And, more importantly, you remember people. People, so many people. The visions of their faces so strong, so vivid, your heart still aches for the ones who are gone. Ruth, Roy, Mom, Dad, Herbert, Raymond, Uncle Mike, Uncle Martin, Uncle Ed, Uncle Robert, Aunt Maggie, Grandma Disney, Doc Sherwood, Erastus Taylor.
Sometimes Dead Men DO Tell Tales! Page 5