HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 2

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HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 2 Page 10

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue


  When he heard the shouts and commotion, Lance looked back over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw the master of the house charge after him. The pain in his leg was intense and blood ran down his leg. In all the excitement, Lance had forgotten about one very important fact: Peter didn’t know that Wolf was an actual wolf. He gave a gasp when the realization hit him and didn’t know what to do as Peter headed for the crypt.

  The dilemma was temporarily taken away when Peter saw his father limp toward him and Master Gracey close behind. As he looked quickly around, Peter grabbed up a strong branch that had fallen from one of the trees. The branch was held up to his shoulder like a baseball bat as he ran back to get in front of his dad.

  When he saw what Peter had in mind, Lance took hold of the limb and pushed his son out of harm’s way. “Thank you, Peter, but I think I have this. Get behind me. It looks like more of them are headed this way.”

  As Lance’s fingers tightened around the piece of wood, he tried to figure out what he could do with it. He was glad it was a sturdy branch as Gracey was almost on him. Lance’s eyes widened as the man pulled a sword out of the scabbard on his costume. “Oh, no. This is where it gets interesting.”

  Peter stayed behind his dad and tried to find another tree limb or something to help. Lance didn’t dare turn back to look.

  With an angry yell, Gracey launched himself at Lance, wildly swinging his blade. By his moves, it was obvious he didn’t know how to use it properly. “It’s you! The beggar from the Horseshoe! I told you never to return.” He angrily tried to stab Lance with his wooden sword.

  “I guess I don’t listen very well.” Lance grimaced as he fended off the blow and tried to ignore the pain in his leg. He slightly relaxed when he realized the sword was neither sharp nor made of steel. Still, it could do some damage if Gracey hit him just right. With the branch firm in both hands, Lance suddenly feinted to the left and swung the branch at Gracey’s legs in a low, sweeping motion.

  “Woo hoo! Get him, Dad!” Peter excitedly danced side to side as he stayed out of the way.

  Caught off-guard, Gracey let out a yelp as it connected with his shins. He tried to parry but Lance had the stick at his shoulder and now struck out, twirling it as he swung it forward. After a full turn, Lance then aimed at his opponent’s head before he leapt aside.

  Frustrated, Gracey shouted at Lance. “Fight like a man! Stand still and take it!”

  “The Force is strong.” Lance managed a grin as he turned again and use a two-handed swing.

  Feet pounded on the grass as the other two men ran closer. One was armed with a musket he hadn’t figured out how to load, and the other held something that looked like a club.

  “Peter, run to the river!”

  “No! I won’t leave you! You can’t take them all.”

  Lance didn’t have time to argue as Gracey continued to lunge at him. Each time Lance managed to block the blows with his splintering tree branch.

  Rollo and Phineas raised their weapons against Lance to gang up on him. An angry Peter was just about to jump into the fray when a black blur suddenly rushed past him. Thinking it was a large dog they had turned loose against them, Peter struck out with his stick. The animal ignored the blow that connected with his tailbone and continued to advance on the man with the musket.

  “Fire! Fire that gun, Rollo!”

  “It ain’t loaded! Help me!”

  Useless, the musket was dropped to the ground as Rollo saw he needed to protect his face and fell to the grass. Seeing this one had given up, Wolf turned to Phineas who then swung his club at the wolf. Dodging the brunt of the blow, Wolf ran toward his legs and knocked him over. The club still connected with his back, but it was an awkward blow with no power. Baring his teeth, Wolf pulled the weapon out of the man’s hands and threw it to the side, away from the other men who didn’t know whom they should go after—Lance or the wolf.

  Lance used this diversion to knock Rollo back to the ground. Seeing Peter about to go after Wolf, he yelled out, “Let him be. He’s helping.” Getting away from Gracey, Lance grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him toward the crypt for protection, away from the fight.

  Not wanting to face a wolf with a fake sword, Gracey ran back to the house to get a real gun. Seeing they were deserted, Phineas and Rollo got back to their shaky feet. The wolf just stood there staring at them, growling deep in his throat and his fangs dripping. Slowly backing toward the house, the men didn’t know why the wolf stopped his attack. Not caring, they never took their eyes off the black fury as they inched their way back across the yard.

  Safely behind the crypt, Peter and Lance listened for more sounds of the fight, but heard nothing but the pleasant river noises.

  “Do you think it’s over, Dad?” Peter’s heart pounded in his chest.

  “Knowing Gracey, probably not. We need to get out of here, but we have to wait for Wolf.”

  “Uncle Wolf is here? Where is he? We coulda used his help.” Grumbling, he never knew Wolf to back down from anything. When there was only silence, he looked over at Lance. “By the way, Dad, nice moves there!”

  “What can I say?” Lance smiled as he twirled the remains of the branch like a baton in his hands. “They needed someone tall for Darth Vader in Tomorrowland. I guess I picked up a few tricks from the Stormtroopers.”

  “Lance? You back there? Uhm, is the coast clear?” Wolf softly called from the other side of the stone building. “We need to get to the village. Can I come back there?”

  It took Lance a second to figure out what Wolf was asking: Did he tell Peter yet that Wolf was the wolf? “Oh, uh, no, not yet. Give me a sec.”

  “You’d better hurry. Gracey is coming back and I think he has a pistol.”

  “Uncle Wolf?” Peter made an attempt to leave. “Is that you? Where’d you go?”

  Lance pulled his son back when Peter was about to unknowingly go face to face with the wolf again. “I need to tell you something. Yes, that is Wolf. Remember the storm that brought you here?” Peter gave a wary nod. “Well, that storm not only brought us through some kind of time portal, it also changed Wolf.”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed. “What? It changed him into a coward?”

  Hearing a menacing growl on the other side of the crypt, Lance hurried his explanation. “You know Wolf better than that. I won’t get angry at that crack right now because you don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “You need to step it up a bit, Lance. It looks like the other two men and even a woman dressed in white are all coming.”

  Lance dove right in. “The storm changes Wolf into a real wolf. The animal you hit with your branch….”

  “Yeah, thanks, Peter.”

  “That animal is Wolf.”

  “I don’t understand.” Peter’s eyes widened as a huge black head peered around the corner of the edifice.

  “Look into his eyes, Peter. You know those eyes. See the white spot on his chest? You saw that on Wolf just before he jumped into the river.”

  Peter stepped back as the full size of the huge wolf came into view. “But I heard Uncle Wolf’s voice. Animals can’t talk.”

  “Hello.” Wolf was rewarded with a shrill scream. “Yes, I can talk, Peter. Calm down. We have to run or fight.”

  More entranced than scared, Peter reached out and felt his hand sink into the thick fur on Wolf’s head. The prickly white tips gave way to the softer fuzz near the scalp. Emboldened when he didn’t get bit, he came nearer and ran his hand over the broad back.

  “If you pull my tail, I will bite you.”

  “He tells me that a lot.” Lance gave a wide smile. “See? That’s our Wolf.”

  “Can we keep him?” Peter eagerly asked his dad.

  “Sheesh.” Muttering, the wolf shook his head. “I think we need to go make a united front. Stand behind me. If he shoots, he’ll probably shoot at me. Hopefully that gun only holds one bullet.”

 
; “We can’t let you do that, Wolf.”

  “We don’t have a choice. We waited here too long.”

  All three of them peered around the corner of the crypt and saw the approaching mob. Lance’s eyes widened when he saw Constance running up behind the men, something held in her upraised arms.

  “That’s Constance.” Peter pointed and gave a gulp. “She’s…she’s got an axe!”

  Lance started issuing commands and immediately pushed Peter toward the distant trees of the forest. “We’re going to make a run for it, Wolf. Do not look back, Peter!” Yelling started on the lawn when they started to move and were spotted. “Wolf! Come, boy!”

  “I’m going to overlook that for now, Lance,” was the dry comment as the wolf took one last look behind them. What he saw chilled his heart.

  Coming to a sliding stop in the gravel by the little graveyard, Gracey took careful aim with his dueling pistol. Constance already had passed the two winded older men and was getting closer to Edward just as his finger touched the hair trigger.

  A plume of smoke emerged from the barrel and the bullet sent up a cloud of dust right next to Peter’s running feet. When she saw the boy flinched in fear, Constance let out an anguished cry and hurled her axe directly toward her husband’s back.

  Lance heard a sickening thud and grabbed Peter’s arm. “Faster!”

  Wolf streaked past them and led the way deep into the welcome forest. Keeping Peter between them, they kept a steady pace as they hurried toward Wolf’s village.

  “Dad?” Peter was out of breath after they had traveled for about half an hour with no sound of pursuit.

  “What?” Lance tried to ignore his throbbing leg as he turned to his son.

  “What’s going to happen to Constance? I really liked her.”

  “I don’t know, son. I liked her, too. She seemed to have a good heart. But, she was pretty miserable.”

  Not knowing what had just happened to Edward, Peter asked his dad, “Will he hurt her?”

  Lance didn’t want to spell it out for the twelve-year-old. “I don’t think that’s a problem any more. But, there are more kinds of wounds than just physical ones.” He gave a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “If we ever do come back here, I’d be willing to bet that house will be empty.”

  Peter was silent with his own thoughts for quite a while. When Wolf allowed a break and wandered back a ways to make sure that all was quiet, Peter had another question. “So, Dad, can we keep Uncle Wolf?”

  Lance was checking the wound on his shin and didn’t see the look on Peter’s face. “He’ll be going back with us.”

  “No, I mean can we keep him like this? That would be really cool!”

  Peter was startled when narrow blue eyes suddenly appeared to glare at him out of the darkness. Lit by the moonlight, they had an eerie gray glow to them. “Cool for whom?”

  Peter reached out to pet him, but thought better of it and withdrew his hand. “Well, I guess…uh…never mind.”

  “How do you think a talking wolf would go over in our world, Peter? If you think about it, it would probably be about as bad as it would be here—only with more laboratory probes in the other world.” He had to repress a shudder at the thought as he sat down beside the boy. They were almost eye to eye.

  “I guess I didn’t think it through.” Peter sounded glum as his hope for a really cool pet was dashed.

  “Well, I have.” Wolf’s ears were flat as he talked. “And it wouldn’t be pleasant. I’m only talking to you now because no one else is around. In my village, with my family, it’s fine. But, that’s why I didn’t speak to you when you first saw me.”

  “What about when we go back? What will happen?”

  “I’ll be the man you’ve always known. We’ll pick up our lives and go on as we always have.”

  “Can I hug you?” Peter’s voice was suddenly weak. The activities of the day, getting no sleep and no food were catching up with him.

  “Yes.”

  Peter got down on his knees and put his arms around the shoulders of the wolf. Wolf closed his eyes and gave a contented sigh. “Thank you for saving us, Uncle Wolf.”

  “Hey, your dad was doing pretty well on his own. But, you’re welcome.”

  “Can I have a hug, too, Wolf?” Lance held out his arms.

  “Go away or I swear I will bite your other leg.”

  As the weary threesome approached the encampment, they were ordered to stop.

  “Ayúštaŋ po!” The sentry stepped out onto the path to block the way with a spear.

  “Relax, Tatanka, it’s just me.” To make himself known, the wolf tiredly emerged from the shadow of the trees.

  The weapon lowered and the brave leaned companionably against a tree. “Hau, Sumanitu Taka. I see you found the boy. Good.” With a friendly nod toward Peter, Tatanka continued to speak to Wolf in Lakota and peered closer at his friend. “Why are you limping?”

  Wolf gave an irritated growl. He thought he was hiding it. “I was hit by a couple of branches.”

  “You were attacked by a tree?”

  “We were in a fight.”

  “Don’t you get along with anyone?” Tatanka didn’t bother to conceal the amused grin that spread across his face.

  Choosing to ignore him, Wolf looked toward the village just visible through the trees. “Anyone still awake?”

  “Probably, but I doubt they want to be disturbed.”

  Wolf started to get the idea that Tatanka was bored and this back and forth banter would go on all night. “More specifically, is my father awake?”

  “Probably, but I doubt he wants to be disturbed.”

  Wolf rolled his eyes, sorry he had brought it up. “Never mind.” With a growl he turned his back on his life-long friend to head for the village. “We need something to eat and then get some sleep. Is there any food left or did you eat it all like the buffalo for which you were named?”

  With a laugh, the sentry pointed at the low-burning fire and called after him, “Check the pot. Cooking Woman always expects one of the Shaman’s sons to be hungry and needing to be fed. Be careful that the serving spoon doesn’t attack you! I’ve been told it’s pretty vicious!”

  Peter caught up with the wolf, fascinated by the interchange even though he only understood a few of the words. As always, he was eager to learn more. “What did he say?”

  “He said there might be food on the fire.”

  “Oh? Was that all? Sounded like more.” Disappointed, he followed the wolf into village, his hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “I’m really hungry.” Looking around the silent camp, he tried to peer through the darkness. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, his hunger was forgotten when he began to notice things familiar from the camp in his time. “Dad! Dad! Look over there! Aren’t those the rocks where the Shaman tells his stories? Are those the canoes? Where are the horses? I can’t see!”

  Lance knew Peter experienced the same exciting discovery as he had—that the village looked like a larger version of the Friendly Village at Disneyland. “Peter, calm down. I’m sure you’ll get a full tour tomorrow…or later this morning…. I don’t know what time it is. I thought you were hungry.” The reminder was an attempt to distract the boy as Lance stared into the dark, bubbling pot. “I see there’s…something…in here.” He sounded dubious.

  “Venison, Lance. It’s just venison,” Wolf told him with a shake of his head.

  “I’m too excited to eat!” Peter tried to hide a yawn as he spied something else in the darkness.

  “A Brentwood too excited to eat?” Wolf was highly amused. “I think we need to alert the press. This is something that’s never happened in the history of the illustrious Brentwoods.”

  Lance pulled the hyper Peter to his side to keep him from running through the camp touching everything to see if it was real. “Everyone’s asleep, Peter. We don’t want to disturb them any more than we probably already have. Where can we bed down, Wolf?
I really need to get off my leg.”

  Wolf padded over to a tipi and peered in. After a muttered an apology, he went to another. With a tilt of his head, he motioned for Lance and Peter to go inside. Peter happily threw himself on top of the carved bed and pulled a woven blanket up to his chin. He was out before Lance could tell him to scoot over.

  “I guess he wasn’t that hungry.” Lance gave a wide yawn as he gently shoved the boy to the far side of the fur-lined bed. He could see the dark shape of the wolf as he stood in the entrance of the tipi. “You going to get some sleep, too, Wolf?”

  Lance fell asleep before Wolf could answer. “Like father, like son.” Outside the tent, using his teeth, the wolf tugged on a leather string. The knot came undone and a flap fell to cover the entrance. No one would disturb them until they awakened. His own sleep would come later as he needed to ask Tatanka a few questions. The ache in his leg was ignored as he returned the way he had come. With a chuckle, Wolf slipped into the forest to sneak up on the sentry. “Let’s see how alert he really is.”

  “Híŋháŋni.” When Peter emerged late in the morning, he was greeted by the Shaman.

  “Good morning.” Pleased he had understood Wolf’s father so far, Peter repeated the words back at him.

  “Táku eníčiyapi he?”

  Eyes wide, Peter hesitated, a smile frozen on his face. His mind raced as he tried to figure out whether he was being asked his name or what day it was. After a quick look around for Wolf to help, he took a guess. Placing his hands on his chest, he pronounced each syllable very slowly and distinctly. “Pe-ter.”

  The Shaman hid his grin with a cough. “I’m Wolf’s father.”

  Relieved he must have answered properly, Peter knew what to say next. “Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíŋyaŋke ló.” (Pleased to meet you)

 

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