When Wolf finally did come over to see if he needed to translate, he received a big grin from both of them. “Is this the boy you always wanted to bring for a visit? You’ve taught him pretty well. He knows many of our words. Odd accent, but understandable.” The Shaman then looked over at Lance who hungrily stared at the community food pot but wouldn’t approach the Cooking Woman for a serving. “That one will starve to death if you don’t take him home soon.”
Wolf gave a small chuckle. “He won’t take my word for it that it’s just venison. Where are you going?” His father had taken Peter by the shoulder to lead him away.
“I’m going to tell him a story.”
When the Shaman took Peter to the rocky overhang and sat him on the ground, Wolf gave an amused snort. “Better you than me, Peter,” he mumbled to himself as he went over to Lance. “I think your son is enjoying himself.”
When he looked over at the Shaman, Lance was again struck by the scene that he had observed so many times from the deck of the Mark Twain. The leader of the tribe faced the boy who sat on the hard ground in front of him. With wide gestures and animated movements, the story continued and looked like it would be a long one. “Amazing.” As he turned back to Wolf, he was again startled it was a wolf and not a man who was talking to him. “I think you’re right. It’s going to be hard to get him to leave.”
“He can come back any time.”
Lance made a face. “I think you know what Kimberly will have to say about that.”
“Speaking of whom, when do you want to hit the road, as they say?”
A big grin spread over Lance’s face. “I really think you should stay this way when we go back. You have a much better sense of humor.”
When Lance saw Wolf look back toward the trail they had taken the previous night, he understood his friend’s concern and instantly sobered. “Do you think Gracey’s family will follow us? Have we put your family in any danger?”
“I don’t know, Lance. As for any danger, well, we fought off a band of pirates. I think we can handle Rollo and Phineas if they decide to come this far in the wilderness—even if they do figure out how to load that musket.”
“Would they know you were part of this village? I mean, they saw Peter and me and then they saw a wolf chase after us into the forest. They might just hope you caught us and had a good dinner.”
Wolf looked back from the trail. He could only smell the usual things from camp and the river. “I don’t know what they would think. Are they smart enough to figure out I’m from this village? Probably not. Even though my father wears the skin of the wolf that killed my mother, I don’t think anyone would make the connection. There’ve been rumors of the black wolf around here for decades. As for you two, it’s possible they think you ran to Rainbow Ridge—even though it would be a three-day trip.”
“And, if they do come here, we will be long gone by then. Besides….” Lance had to stop and grimace. He could still hear the sound of the axe as it sunk into Gracey’s flesh. “From what I saw back there, I seriously doubt those men will be going anywhere soon.”
While they quietly continued their discussion, the Shaman brought a happy Peter back to Lance and motioned for Wolf to follow him.
Peter almost jumped up and down in his excitement. “Wow! That was so cool!”
His enthusiasm was contagious and Lance broke out in a big smile. “What did he say? What was he telling you?”
“I have no idea. He was talking too fast. But it sounded awesome!”
“He’s such a respectful boy.” The older man and his son reached the riverbank. The wolf headdress tilted downward to hide the humor in his eyes. “I told him all about you when you were a boy his age.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t think he understood one word I said!”
Wolf decided to change the subject. “I was hoping Mato would be back from Rainbow Ridge by now. Peter would like to say hello before we leave.”
“Your brother came back early this morning.”
Wolf looked toward his brother’s tipi. The flap was tied open to show no one was there. “Where is he then?”
“I sent him and Igmutaka fishing. With so many extra mouths to feed, I thought it was a good idea.”
There was an amused snort from the wolf. “Yes, Lance and Peter make quite a crowd. Or, is it you wanted to make sure Mato didn’t follow me through the oskeca again?”
“For a younger son, you ask too many questions.” With that, the Shaman pulled his robes closer and walked off. He didn’t like it when Wolf hit so close to the dread that was in his heart. It had terrified him when Mato had gone with the man Wals to rescue Wolf. At the corral in the back of the camp, he placed a hand on the warm muzzle of his horse while his mind replayed every time Wolf had gone through the storm. If his son stayed where he belonged, there would be no need for rescue. If he didn’t travel through time, he would not have to come back shot or injured or barely able to draw a breath.
As if she sensed the old man’s unease, the mare stepped away to toss her head and shake out her mane. When she came back to the low wooden barricade, she pushed against the man’s arm and bit at the worn-out wolf hide that hung from his shoulders. This produced the desired effect as the man’s hand came back to stroke her neck and murmur into her ears. The Shaman let the horse distract him. He knew his son would do what he always did.
If the wolf could have accomplished it, he would have had a wide grin on his face. “Or is it that I am right?” He watched his father interact with his favorite horse. “Two can play that game, Father. Who do you think showed Mato where all the best fishing places are?”
Wolf trotted over to Lance and Peter and gave a respectful greeting to the Cooking Woman. Peter was digging into the venison stew while Lance stared enviously at him. “You two want to go fishing?”
Before Peter could jump in and say yes, Lance answered for both of them. “Not really our thing. But thanks for asking.”
“Oh. I thought we could take a canoe and check out the remains of Fort Wilderness.”
“Dad!” Peter almost choked on his mouthful of food.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Lance and Peter spoke at the same time. “Jinx!”
“I know. Sorry.” Peter barely mumbled an apology as eagerly he looked at Wolf. “Fort Wilderness? Just like back home?”
“Pretty close. It’s in a different location on the island. This one, though, was a real working fort with real soldiers.”
Lance thought back. “Didn’t they have cast members dressed as soldiers on Tom Sawyer Island at one time?”
“Yeah, back a lot of years. I think Wals told you about the changes that happened to the fort while he was here. Whenever something at Disneyland changed, it changed here, too.”
“So, let me get this straight…. Are you saying what happens in the future changes the past? How can that possibly work?”
“Beats me.” Wolf got up and stretched. “I only work here. Let’s go get a canoe. You’ll have to do the paddling.”
“Lazy.” Lance grinned as Peter dashed off ahead of them.
“Stay out of the caves! I think the pirates booby-trapped them.” Wolf tried to give Peter and Igmutaka a warning as they ran off through the trees on the Island.
“Well, that’ll make sure they go inside, Misun.” Mato gave a snort and shook his head.
“Misun?” Lance tried repeating. “What’s that? Something I might want to use later?”
When Wolf turned away and refused to speak, Mato answered for him. “It means Little Brother. I have a few others if you’d like to learn them.”
“That’s quite enough, Bear. Lance has gotten enough ammo on this trip to last us a lifetime. Don’t encourage him.”
“And…there they go.” The boys ducked inside the low-hanging rocks that marked the entrance to the caves. “You called that one, Mato!” Lance looked longingly at the cave. It sound
ed pretty interesting. “Think I should go along to make sure they’re all right?”
Mato looked amused and Wolf gave a snort. “The boys will be fine. I don’t want to have to find you three hours from now when you get lost.”
That piqued Lance’s interest even more. “Three hours? How big is that cave? It only takes a couple of minutes to walk through it at Disneyland.”
“We aren’t at Disneyland.”
Lance looked back at the huge spiked log walls of Fort Wilderness. After a tour of the ruins and poking through the mess in the Cantina, the General’s office, the stables and Officer’s Quarters, he knew Wolf’s reminder was true.
To drive this point home even further, the Mark Twain sedately chugged by, its lower deck crammed with bales and crates. The pilot tugged on the bell cord as a tribute to the closed fort. At the noise, Lance turned back to the river. He could see a few paying passengers on an outing as they stood on the second deck, waving when they spotted him. The women, dressed in long, colorful frocks, held lacy parasols to protect their fair skin from the sun. The men, in dark coats and pants, tipped their top hats before they were settled back on their waxed hair.
“Fascinating.” Lance stared at the Mark Twain until it finally disappeared from view around the far bend. Its whistle sounded a greeting to the village. When he turned back, Wolf was nowhere to be seen. He had blended into the forest, out of sight of the men on the ship. Once he felt it was safe, the wolf emerged from the darkness and padded down a small, overgrown dirt path that wound past the fort and the caves. “What is he looking at?” Lance wondered out loud. “What’s down there? At home that’s the direction of the Settler’s Cabin.”
Wolf’s brother gave a little grunt. Just as Lance was amazed at how big everything here was, Mato had been amazed at how small it was when he had traveled through the portal to Disneyland. “Yes, the cabin you saw from the river is about half a mile that way. I believe my brother misses the wiya—the woman—Rose whom he protected while she lived here.” He gave Lance a mischievous grin. “He doesn’t know I’ve seen him go back into the little house where she stayed. He thinks we believe it’s to visit the horse. But we know better.”
Lance was all ears. “So, Wolf doesn’t know you spy on him. How interesting.”
“Spy?” Mato worked his mind around the unfamiliar word. “No, it is my job to watch the Island. See over there? No, the other way toward the village. That’s my son, Chapa.” He gave a shrill whistle. When it reached the far shore of the river, Chapa turned his head to locate the source of the familiar call. Mounted on a pinto, he raised a hand to acknowledge his father. The horse shifted his weight at the movement, but remained still on the huge flat rock.
“Chapa?”
“It means beaver. He’s a good swimmer. When he was little, we usually found him playing at the beaver dam around that bend.” He stopped talking when an antlered buck came out of the forest across from them and dipped his head for a drink. “Tablocka.”
“That means deer?”
“The male, yes.”
“And tahca is the female.” Wolf had come back to join them. “That was the animal for which our mother was named. Any sign of the boys yet?”
Mato gave a snort. “Thanks to you, they won’t be back for hours.”
“I can go get them,” Lance eagerly volunteered.
Wolf ended the possible debate when he went to the dark entrance and let out a calling howl. It was different than the one he used to call the storm. After it echoed through the caverns, he heard a faint returning call from Igmutaka. “Now they’ll be back soon.” Turning to his brother, he had a reminder for him. “Father will expect you to bring back some fish. Shouldn’t you get busy?”
Mato didn’t look too inclined to take up the poles he had brought. “He just wanted to make sure I didn’t go with you.”
“Yeah, I know. What’s wrong?” Wolf was curious when his brother abruptly went to the river’s edge and looked in the direction of civilization.
“Look.” He pointed to a thin tendril of smoke that rose above the trees.
“Hmm. How did I missed that?” Wolf lifted his nose and sniffed the air. “That’s not trees burning. Wood, yes, but it’s not a forest fire. Possibly a building.”
Lance joined them and tried to judge how far away the smoke was. “A fire? I can barely see it. That wouldn’t be the Golden Horseshoe, would it?”
“No.” Wolf’s answer was immediate. “The Horseshoe is a lot farther away. It’s…it’s closer to the Gracey’s place.”
Lance looked back at Wolf, concern on his face. “There’re only a couple of things around there: The Mark Twain dock and the house. Do you think the Mansion’s burning? Is it supposed to burn in this time? Would that have any effect on Disneyland? Should we do something?”
“I don’t know.” Wolf quietly stared at the rising smoke that was getting thicker and darker as the moments passed. “There’s no way of knowing for sure if it is the Mansion. And we certainly can’t go back and check on it after what happened. We’ll just have to wait and see….” He broke off at the sound of running feet.
The two boys came bursting out of the cave. Both faces were flushed and happy. Igmutaka began telling his father all about it in Lakota as Peter started telling Lance all about it in English. With all their gestures and arm-waving, it was obvious they both had a good time.
Wolf hated to kill their enthusiasm. “Lance, we have to get back to the village to say good-bye to my father. It’s time.” He knew Peter had really liked Constance, so he decided not to mention the possibility of her beautiful Mansion being on fire.
Knowing they had to leave, the happy prattle immediately stopped. “Aww, do we have to?”
Lance put an understanding hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Yes, your mother is probably frantic by now. We have to go back to our own time, Pete.”
At the mention of his mother, Peter knew his dad was right. “Can we come back?”
Lance could see the hope and pleading in the boy’s eyes. “Well, I’d like to explore that cave, too. And check out Rainbow Ridge.”
“But….” Peter added the final word for him, the look on his face visibly dimmed.
“Yeah. But.” It was all his dad would say as they loaded into the canoe.
It was a quiet trip back to the Friendly Village.
As Wolf tilted his head to the sky to call the storm, the entire village came out to see them off. Peter hugged the Shaman and Mato good-bye and tried to hide his tears. To come here had been a dream of his for half of his life and it was over way too quickly. When he got into the bow of the canoe from the Hungry Bear, he quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his filthy shirt and turned back for one more look. It was a quick glance because the braves pushed the canoe out into the turbulent current of the river and they were suddenly too busy to think of anything else.
After he had asked Mato to check on the Mansion, Wolf had crouched down in the middle so his weight wouldn’t throw off the already-tossing canoe. As the small boat was hurtled down the river, Lance and Wolf could now see a distinct orange glow above the tree tops. The wind of the storm, however, pushed the smoke and ash away from them.
Wolf had just an instant to look back one last time at his father before they were swept into the whirlpool in the middle of the river. The look of sadness he saw filled him with regret and guilt. He gave a final yip before the water closed over them and took them away in an angry swirl of pink flashes and bright lightning. He would have to make it up to him at a later date.
Flashback to Burbank — 1957
“Okay, boys, since you want to shut down my plan for the Old House on the Hill off Main Street, let’s hear what you have instead.” Walt made it sound like he was challenging his designers. Hiding his amusement, he liked to see them squirm a little. He already planned to change the location of the attraction to a new land, but he still wanted to hear their latest ideas. It kept them sharp. �
��Ken, we’ll start with you.”
“Well, Walt, I have some ideas, but you didn’t like my first drawing.”
“No, I didn’t. I want Disneyland to be beautiful. You showed me a rundown shambles of a house with dead plants and trees. I don’t want that off of my lovely Main Street. We’ll keep the outside of the house pristine and let the ghosts take care of the inside.”
“Okay.” Ken looked at his notes and nodded. “We’re on the same page, then. We started talking about the Old House on the Hill back in 1953. I believe, at the time, we still thought we’d make it a walk-through.”
“I still like that idea,” Walt reminded them, raising one eyebrow. “I haven’t changed my mind yet. But, let’s hear what you’ve got.” His idea of a beautiful, historic New Orleans Square where the Plantation House restaurant was now located was still partially on the drawing board—and mostly in his head.
“Picture this: Bloodmere Manor. It’ll be named after a Captain Blood, a sea captain. There will be all kinds of sea-related artifacts throughout the house, including a ship weathervane on top.” Ken set a rendering of the exterior on the easel for them to see and then placed a drawing of an interior over it before he continued. “His whole family will have been killed in the mansion, and we’ll be telling the story as people go through each scene. Now, here’s the main room. Behind the bricks of this fireplace,” he pointed, “is where the captain buried his new bride after he killed her in a fit of rage. When the captain is drowned at sea, his ghost comes back into the mansion. Here are the rails the guests will be behind. Using the Pepper’s Ghost effect that Yale is perfecting, the captain would materialize right about here, just out of people’s reach, dripping wet from the ocean that they can see outside through the blowing curtains. Then, he would vanish right before their eyes, leaving behind a wet puddle on the floor! At that moment the ghost of the bride would fly out of the bricks toward the guests.”
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