HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 5

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  Not realizing he was being pranked, Adam stared at Lance for a long minute. “Have you lost what little remained of your intelligence? I’m amazed Peter turned out so well…” He wondered if he needed to speak slowly so Lance could follow. “No, how we got into the garage in the first place. And don’t say by the door.”

  Lance looked all innocent. “All right. I won’t. You must, then, be referring to my brilliant subterfuge of the camera and documentary ploy.”

  “Ding ding ding. He gets it!” Adam raised his arms in triumph and turned to share the victory with the others. He was met with blank stares and assumed they didn’t understand the reference. “Lance brought this huge on-shoulder camera and microphone and told the owners of the house where Walt used to have his little studio that we were shooting a documentary on Walt. Lance was doing the talking…”

  “On air talent,” Lance helpfully filled in.

  “Lance did all the talking, as he usually does,” Adam continued, “while I pretended to shoot the whole thing with that heavy camera.” He stopped again when he saw the looks on their faces. “What?”

  “We know, honey. We know the story.”

  His eyes narrowed at Beth. “Then why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because you were having so much fun telling it!”

  “Hmmp.” Adam stomped back to Catie’s bed and picked up her limp hand. “You see what I have to go through, Catie? No respect.” He gasped when he felt movement against his palm. “She moved her hand! Beth, she moved her fingers!”

  The smile on Beth’s face faded a bit. “I know, honey. She’s done that a couple of times. The doctor said it was just muscle contractions.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Didn’t want to get all our hopes up. He said it was a good thing, though. Movement is always good.”

  Not completely convinced, Adam smoothed Catie’s hair from her forehead. “I know she can hear us. I think she was telling us she wants to help on the next clue.”

  “Speaking of the next clue,” Lance broke in before Adam could retreat back into his protective shell, “do you think you can help Peter out, Adam? I’m too well known at the Studio to get away with it.”

  “Help him do what? I’m not sure—yet again—what you’re talking about.”

  “What I was thinking while you were yapping on and on was that you and Peter could use the same ploy. Only to make it believable, it would have to be bloggers or something like that. You could be filming Peter as he toured the Studio for his online blog.”

  Adam pushed the immediate objections to the back of his mind. If he really was needed, he wanted to be there for Peter. “I guess I could do it again. I’d need that horrid camera…”

  “No, that’s outdated.” Lance interrupted as he paced the room. “What we could use is Peter’s iPad. I think there’s a microphone attachment, or we could just plug a mike into it somewhere. Doesn’t have to work. You would just follow Peter around the room while he looks for the next clue and pretends to talk about the Studio.”

  “If you’re not coming, how do we get onto the lot? As you said, it is closed to the public.”

  Thinking of Kimberly and their roles as Guardians of Walt, Lance knew getting onto the lot was no problem. They could easily arrange for Peter as the Boy Wonder Blogger to have access to anything they wanted. “Leave that to me. Are you up for it, Adam? And, Pete, it will have to be quick since it’ll be on a work day. You can’t tie up that room for too long.”

  “Why can’t we go in on a Sunday when nobody is there?”

  “Makes it look more real. Adam?”

  Scenes from previous quests slipped through Adam’s mind. He realized how much he missed the adrenaline rush. A quick glance at Beth revealed her enthusiastic nod. He felt another movement from Catie’s hand. “Yes, I’ll help. Just tell me when you need me.”

  The nurses looked over in their direction they heard the group yell out as one: “Yea!”

  Fullerton

  ”I found the next clue, Catie.” It was just past midnight when Peter turned from the window. Now, thanks to Uncle Wolf, every time he looked up at the night sky the words from When You Wish Upon a Star played over and over in his brain. He shook his head in an ineffective effort to change the song. Maybe telling Catie about the heroics he had accomplished would silence Jiminy Cricket’s crooning. “You would’ve hated it. Remember when I had to climb up the side of that pink building in Adventureland? This was worse and in broad daylight! It was just a metal ladder that went straight up to the roof. Did I tell you I almost got caught?” He paused, forgetting she wouldn’t answer. With a cough to cover his momentary lapse, he pulled the white and gray capsule from his backpack. “Here it is. I haven’t opened it yet. I wanted to do that with you…like we used to.”

  A surge of disappointment and sorrow suddenly flowed through Peter bringing him to tears. It was only two weeks since the accident, yet he half-hoped she would come around when she heard about something that had been so exciting before. When Catie and her monitors registered no response, the capsule was lowered from in front of her face.

  Hopes crushed, his eyes dropped to the object in his hands. His desire to continue with the quest wavered. “I need your help, Catie. It’s not the same.”

  Almost to the point of shoving the container back into his pack, Peter looked at her still features. She looked so peaceful. Sometimes it was difficult to remember why she was still in the hospital and that her major injuries were internal. With a determined sigh, Peter took a firm hold on the sealed end of the capsule. His voice quavered when he declared, “We are going to do this together, Catie. This is for you.”

  Paint covered half of the seal and it had to be loosened by constant back and forth jerks. With one final grunt and a shower of white paint chips all over the floor, the endcap released. In spite of himself, Peter gave a shout of victory. Heads shot up from the nurse’s station as he belatedly clamped a hand over his mouth. Mouthing “Sorry,” he sheepishly turned back to the bed. Not knowing if it was good or bad, there was no reaction.

  Nothing happened when the capsule was upended with a shake. Peering inside, there was only a solitary, rolled-up piece of paper. “No little gift, Catie. Looks like it’s just another clue.” Leaning toward the open door and the light the nurse’s station provided, he could barely make out the written words:

  “He’ll get the point in the end. Will you?”

  Peter let out a snort of laughter. “That has to be the Jungle Cruise, Catie! One of your favorite rides. How about waking up so we can go on it together and see what we can find?”

  He hadn’t really expected that to work, but it was worth a try. “Okay, fine. Just stay there and rest. I’ll do it.” He lightly patted her arm. “At least it doesn’t sound like I have to climb anything. That’s a relief. Wonder if Wolf’ll give me a hint. Probably not. He was supposed to drive me here tonight, but never called back. Don’t know where he is.”

  The clue and the capsule were stuffed back into his pack. Another glance at the wall clock made him grimace. “Man, I need to get home. If Mom or Dad find out I snuck out again, they’ll ground me for sure. At least the doctor didn’t transfer you to the other hospital. This one’s closer to my house. I’ll be home in about twenty minutes. Rest up, Catie. Bye.”

  Peter leaned closer to his computer screen as if that would make the image clearer. “Is that the rhino or one of the elephants? Why doesn’t this thing zoom in closer?” Frustrated, he shoved back in his chair. The same satellite image that had been so helpful before was now less-than-cooperative. With all the trees and overgrowth, it was impossible to make out what was where. “It’s so thick I can’t even tell the exact route of the river.”

  One of the Disneyland reference books Peter took from their library downstairs showed a less-tropical Jungle Cruise. However, the pictures had been taken before 1964 when the ride had undergone a dramatic change. The African Veldt and the Elephant Bathing Pool had been buil
t in 1962, but the animals had to wait until the Imagineers were done with the New York World’s Fair in 1964. The rhino that Peter felt was the key to his clue was originally meant to be partly hidden in plants on the berm and only seen from the Disneyland Railroad as the train circled the Park. But Walt had loved the rhino so much he wanted it included inside the Jungle Cruise so more people could enjoy it. It was during these years of change that the skippers were allowed to inject humor into their spiels. At first the skippers created their own material and that eventually led to an official script they all would use. To everyone’s relief, the straightforward, educational tone was gone. Walt once said, “I would rather entertain and hope that people learned something than educate people and hope they were entertained.” And people were delighted with those changes.

  Peter was about to return all the books to their library when he noticed a magazine he had pushed aside. The cover depicted a rendering of the Jungle Cruise, so he quickly flipped through the pages. In the middle he found a two-page, black and white aerial view of the Jungle Cruise, boats and all. The year on the legend said it was taken in 1965, and off to the side was the skeleton of New Orleans Square being built. Peter instantly focused on the lower half of the fascinating shot. The African Veldt and the angry rhino were clearly seen. “Oh, that’s not where I thought it was. I thought the rhino backed up to Main Street. It’s actually on the lower part of the ride along the train tracks.”

  Peter stared at the picture as his finger traced the route of the boats. “Then, that’s the charging hippo down on that bend, but I can’t see Schweitzer Falls. The Falls have to be somewhere in here, because that’s the loading dock up there.”

  The magazine was lowered. “I need to ride the Jungle Cruise.”

  Disneyland

  Still hopeful that Peter would return to his curious, energetic self, Lance readily agreed to take the boy back to the Park. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No, I just need to go on the Jungle Cruise.”

  Lance’s ears perked up. Years ago, he and Kimberly had spent the night in Tarzan’s Treehouse during their Hidden Mickey quest. From the height of the middle hut, he had zip-lined into the Jungle and searched for one of Walt’s hidden clues. “Did I ever tell you about my hunt to find El Lobo?”

  “No.”

  After waiting a moment, Lance could tell this wasn’t the time to go into his tale of daring-do. Peter was obviously only focused on what he needed to do. “Another time, then. Whatever you need to do, just keep out of trouble.”

  Peter gave him a quick smile. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you later.”

  Lance watched his son run off to join the queue inside the boathouse. “Hmmph. I’m more excited about what he might find than he is.” With a disappointed shrug, he headed to Tomorrowland to continue his security patrol.

  “On your left is the most feared animal in the Jungle: the African Bull Elephant. And, for those of you with a short attention span, on your right is the most feared animal in the Jungle: the African Bull Elephant.” There were some giggles as the Amazon Belle slid past the twin of the first elephant.

  Skipper Lucie pointed ahead to a rocky wall. “Ahead of us is the entrance to the African Veldt. Let’s see, those are giraffes and those are gazelles and, hmm, I don’t know what those are. They must be gnu. Wow, our zebras are so old they’re still in black and white. Aww, look how that pride of lions is protecting that sleeping zebra—the one with his neck bent at such an unusual angle… Hey, there’s something you don’t see every day. Well, I do. At least the hyenas think it’s funny…”

  The boat sailed past the Lost Safari as Peter used his phone to snap a couple of pictures. He strained to see the rhino as long as he could before they rounded a bend in the river and had to fight their way through a pool of dangerous hippos that wiggled their ears and blew bubbles. Lost in thought, the blank bullet fired into the air to ‘scare that hippo hiding in the tree’ startled him back to reality.

  After a narrow escape from the whirling piranhas and hearing about the cannibal Trader Sam’s marital troubles—“My wife made a terrific stew last night. I’m really going to miss her.”—they arrived at the unloading dock. “For those of you who enjoyed my spiel, my name is Lucie. For those of you who didn’t enjoy my spiel, well, names really aren’t that important, are they? Now that we are safely back, get out. Oh, I’m sorry. That was rude. Please, get out.”

  Peter was smiling as he exited the boat. Catie would have enjoyed Skipper Lucie. Before he tried to figure things out, and always hungry, he walked over to the nearby Bengal Barbecue to order a chicken skewer. “Bummer,” he mumbled when he noticed that all of the tables were occupied. Knowing there were benches along the River, he went around the corner to Frontierland. As he sat facing the River, the Columbia had just left the dock and was beginning her journey into the Wilderness. Peter could hear the sea chant playing as the huge boat passed his spot.

  The skewer and soft drink were quickly finished; his sticky fingers wiped more on his jeans than the napkin included with the meal. “Now, let’s see what the rhino can tell me,” as he pulled out his phone.

  From the research he had already done, Peter knew the Jungle Cruise animals were now made out of some kind of fiberglass. The rubber and plastic that had been used in the beginning cracked and split too easily. This solid-looking rhino in his picture couldn’t possibly have any hidden flaps or holes in which to hide something. Or could it?

  Peter looked up from his camera just as one of the rafts began its short, sputtering journey over to Tom Sawyer Island. “Would Walt have hidden the next clue inside the rhino? It’s the rhino that has the point. Gosh, how am I supposed to find something inside a rhino?” Not realizing he had spoken out loud, he turned red when a passing family gave him a curious look. “Gotta quit doing that.”

  The next picture was a wider angle and included some of the natives chased up the pole. The last shot was blurred and worthless. A duck swam up to the edge of the River, hoping for some handout from Peter’s trash. A loud quack got him to look up and smile. “Sorry, buddy, I ate it all.” Not getting the desired outcome, the mallard quickly gave up, turned his back, and slowly paddled away, tail feathers shaking off the water.

  “I need to see the rhino again.” Peter rose from the bench to dump his trash into a nearby can. His steps faltered, though, when he reached the ride’s entrance. “I’ve ridden it, like, a million times. I know what it looks like. This isn’t going to help. I need to do something else.”

  There was an empty bench in front of the Adventureland Bazaar and Peter dropped onto it. The two-story boathouse that covered the winding queue of the Jungle Cruise received only a cursory look before he pulled out the magazine he had brought from home. As he stared at the aerial photograph, he began to reason it out. “Well, I can’t jump off the boat like I did inside Pirates when that thief chased me. I have to get in there some other way.” His face scrunched up. “Too bad it’s so far away from Main Street. I might’ve been able to sneak in through those trees. The only thing the rhino is close to is the train tracks.”

  Peter felt his heart rate speed up before he actually voiced the thought that suddenly raced through his mind. What if I got there from the train tracks? I could walk along the tracks… Wait, no, I can’t. This picture is too old. There’re a lot of buildings along there now…and people. I can’t walk the tracks. He felt his mouth fall open. I’ll have to get there from the back of the train. I’ll have to jump.

  Nervous and jittery, Peter sat in the Main Street train station as the different trains came and went. There were three trains running that busy day with approximately seven minutes between each train. As he thought about what he felt he needed to do, he also focused on the passenger cars themselves. Two of the trains had Holiday-style seating that faced inward to the Park for easier, faster loading and unloading. One of the trains, the E. P. Ripley, had Excursion-style seating with benches that faced forward. Peter decided that would be t
he train to use. What he didn’t realize, about fifteen or sixteen years earlier, was that his dad and Uncle Adam had gone through the same deliberations and came to the same decision when they, too, had to find a clue somewhere along the rail line.

  Jumping onto the last car of the E. P. Ripley, Peter’s heart drummed in his chest, his mouth dry. “I’m going to get in sooooo much trouble.” With a squealing jerk, the train started on its journey round the Magic Kingdom. The quaint buildings of Main Street quickly disappeared from view as the train entered the overgrown trees of the berm. Peter barely heard the recorded voice welcome him and describe the wonders to be seen as the train continued. He heard a shot from a Jungle Cruise skipper and knew he was passing the charging hippo. “The Veldt is next.”

  Peter tried to peer through the trees to see exactly where he was, but the berm was too high for the low seats on the train. All too soon he was through a short tunnel and stopped at the New Orleans Square station. “Wow, that was fast.” He stayed in his seat as the conductor walked the length of the train to assist the guests.

  The rest of the trip was a blur. Peter could only focus on what he felt he had to do. The Grand Canyon and the dinosaur panoramas unseen, and back at Main Street, he exited the train. “What do I do now? I can’t jump in the middle of the day when someone could see me and I can’t jump at night. I wouldn’t be able to see anything.”

  Digging the Key to Disneyland out of a pocket, he let himself into his apartment above the Market House. The lace window coverings hid his presence while he stared down at all the activity. “Do I ask Dad for help? No, he’d never let me do something like that. He wouldn’t understand.” His mind ran through some of his previous exploits and his parents’ reactions when they found out. “They had this weird look when they found out I jumped inside Pirates. I thought they’d get mad, but they just had some kind of secret smile on their faces.” Parents are weird sometimes. “No, I have to figure this out myself.”