HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 2

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  As Kimberly rushed ahead of them, Lance and Peter stared open-mouthed at the scene in front of them.

  “That’s why I called you.” Wolf stared with them as his breathing sped up. “And, more importantly, why does Kimberly know these people?”

  In a daze, they walked slowly forward. Lance and Peter couldn’t take their eyes off the large group of guests who surrounded a small version of a Native Village now situated in Magnolia Park. There was one large tipi set up, its flap open to allow guests inside to see what the living quarters used to look like. Next to the tipi was a large stuffed buffalo. Off to the side, in his own fenced-off section, an authentically-dressed native was busy on a weaving machine. A small crowd gathered around him as he wove the wooden shuttle back and forth through the red and white threads. As they got closer, they could see the painted dance arena with its colorful red, blue and yellow designs. There were two dancers going through their steps as drums kept the beat.

  “Zuni-Comanche.” Wolf thought he was being asked for an explanation when Lance turned to him with an inquiring look.

  “Not what I meant, but, okay. I don’t understand.” His voice was low. “Where did all of this come from? It…it looks like it’s been here for years.”

  Peter pulled on Lance’s arm. “Dad?”

  “Not now, Pete. We need to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Dad!” This time Peter was more insistent. “You have to see this.”

  “Please don’t interrupt. We’re trying to talk.”

  “Well, add this to your discussion.” Peter ignored the irritated look that came over his father’s face and pointed past the Village. “Look!”

  It took Lance a full minute to absorb what Peter meant. Behind the Village, set back into a nestling of trees that faced the River was a large white antebellum house. He could see bright blue entry doors and blue shutters on the three dormers on the roof. There was a low white metal fence around a courtyard that held a large number of umbrella-topped tables. The seats were white metal with rounded backs done in a swirling fan shape. Uniformed servers were going back and forth as they set up for lunch. In the far corner of the seating area was a small bandstand with a sign that introduced Colonel Dale and his Society Orchestra.

  “What…what is that?” Lance whispered to Wolf.

  Wolf was still breathing hard. “If my memory serves me correctly, and I am reading the sign over the entrance right, this is the Swift Chicken Plantation. Which closed in 1962.”

  “I know there used to be a Plantation restaurant, but it was in the middle of where New Orleans Square sits right now. How…how could it have possibly been moved to this spot? It was torn down. But, more importantly…where is the Haunted Mansion?”

  “Well, the restaurant was first over there on the river next to the Island Rafts, and then it was moved to the other location.”

  “I don’t care, Wolf! What is it doing here now? Where’s the Mansion?”

  “Mom’s coming back. She seems to know a lot of the dancers.”

  “I see that, Pete.” Lance didn’t know what to make of this. No one around them seemed surprised to see the dancers, and there was a line of people already waiting for the Chicken Plantation to open for lunch. The only thing that made sense was the screams from Splash Mountain just beyond the restaurant.

  Kimberly joined them with a happy smile on her face. “Well, Jim says Jacque is due any day now. I sure miss seeing her here at the Park. Well, maybe after the baby is older she can come back. What’s wrong, Lance? You look confused.”

  “You…you know the dancers?”

  She gave a chuckle and rapped him on the arm. “Of course we do! You invite them every year to our Security Guard and Princess party!” She looked over at the dancers again and did a mental count. “Just about half of them were at the party last weekend. One of the guys still has a black eye from volleyball. Since we’re here, why don’t we have a chicken dinner for lunch? Remember how it used to cost only $1.70?”

  “What about the Haunted Mansion, mom? Where’d it go?”

  “The what? Oh, now I remember you said something about that last night. I didn’t know what you meant. I just assumed you meant the Old House on the Hill.” She looked from one blank face to another. “That was what you meant, wasn’t it?”

  Lance looked at Wolf who shrugged at him.

  “You need to see Main Street.” Wolf’s words did nothing to bring Lance some clarity.

  Turning back to his wife, Lance took her arm and led her to a bench that faced the Frontierland River. When the crowd of people who came off the rafts from Tom Sawyer Island cleared out, he licked his dry lips. “Honey, I don’t know what’s going on, but things have…changed. When I was here just two days ago, there weren’t any Ceremonial dances and there was certainly no Chicken Plantation.”

  “Oh, Lance, you’re such a kidder. Of course they were here. It must’ve been too dark when you got back and you just didn’t see them. They probably had all the lights turned off. Or maybe you hit your head or something.” Kimberly had an indulgent smile on her face as she looked from Wolf to Lance to Peter. The smile faded quickly when she saw that all three guys were very serious. “You didn’t hit your heads, did you?”

  They all shook their heads slowly side to side.

  “You aren’t kidding, are you? You really think there should be something else here? What was it called again? The Haunted House?”

  “Mansion, Mom.”

  “Okay, Mansion, then. Let me try something.” As she stood, Kimberly looked around and then went over to the old keelboat dock that was now a smoking station. Five people sat there as they took a break. With a friendly smile she asked if they ever heard of the Haunted Mansion. One of the women pulled out the souvenir map she had gotten at the entrance gate and pointed to Main Street. After asking if she could have the little map, Kimberly thanked them and rejoined the men.

  “See? It’s right there on Main Street. Off of West Center Street. I don’t know why you’ve forgotten that. Maybe you need to see a doctor.” Kimberly still wasn’t sure they weren’t just kidding around. If they persisted with their joke—or their delusion—she would have to do something. Just what she had no idea.

  “All three of us, Kimberly?” Wolf stared at the map he had taken from her. It clearly showed the times for the Ceremonial Circle dances and the locations of the restaurant and the Old House on the Hill. “Something’s very wrong,” he muttered to Lance as he passed over the map.

  “Can we go check out Main Street?” The implication that Wolf was correct and something was terribly wrong was forgotten by Peter at the prospect of seeing something else new. “I wonder if Catie knows about this.”

  Lance had walked off to do his own questioning. He came back just in time to hear Peter’s last comment. “It seems like we’re the only three people who don’t know about this. No one I asked ever heard of anything called a Haunted Mansion and they said the dances have been here almost as long as the Park has been open. They’ve been in a couple of different locations, but have been here for a long time.”

  “Before this starts getting weird…weirder,” Kimberly amended, “let’s go to Main Street and see the Old House on the Hill. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you see it. Maybe your memories were affected by the…uh, trip you took.”

  Wolf agreed with her suggestion and led the way back to Main Street. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, Kimberly.” His voice was quiet as they walked. “I’ve made journeys more times than you know and nothing was ever changed when I got back.”

  “Well, let’s just see what we see.” She silently wondered and worried what had happened to her family to make them this delusional. She made a mental note to look up Wolf’s friend Wals to see if he had a similar experience the different times he came back—both with and without Wolf. Wals would be working the Canoes that day, so she figured she would talk to him later.

  “That’s
not much of a hill.” Peter sounded disappointed as they waited in line.

  Kimberly gave him a smile, glad of this opportunity to get their thinking back to normal. “Well, if it was too tall, you’d be able to see into the Jungle Cruise. And Walt’s Apartment,” she added as an afterthought. “That must have been some view Walt had from the patio of his apartment. Main Street on one side and the Old House on the Hill on the other.”

  The men said nothing one way or the other as they got closer to the entrance. Their minds whirled as they tried to figure out what could have possibly gone wrong.

  The building itself was a two-story off-white house with a taller, round lookout tower under a domed cupola on the left side. Two windows faced the waiting line and had wooden shutters that hung slightly off their hinges to give a sort of drunken look to the front of the house. Some of the plaster looked like it had crumbled away to expose a brick substructure. The lacy, tattered curtains in the upper windows blew in and out of the broken glass. The lush trees and plants of the Jungle Cruise formed a solid backdrop behind the house.

  “Does the ride go under Main Street?” Peter tried to take in everything as they got closer to the entrance.

  “Ride? Honey, it’s a walk-through. You should know that.” His mother pulled him in for a hug and then paused. “You should know that. Tell me, just for conversation’s sake: Was your haunted place a ride or a walk-through?”

  “It was a ride, Mom, on a moving conveyor just like Buzz Lightyear. We rode in what were called Doom Buggies. Hey, did that statue in the garden just move?”

  “That’s cute.” Her reply had been light to mask the suddenly pounding of her heart. Why do they know that other ride so well? Why are they so perplexed by this Old House?

  As their group entered the house, their somber host started the tour. He stood next to a wall to tell them the story of Captain Blood. Behind him, the wall silently slid open and a shadowy hairy arm could be seen. Just as the hand grabbed at him, the host calmly led the group into the next room. They could hear hysterical laughter at the end of a seemingly endless hallway. As they looked, a lit candle flickered on, but no one was holding it.

  “Mom! Did you see that arm? It almost grabbed him!”

  “That’s your favorite part. He’s called Hairy the Arm. Remember?”

  Peter shook his head as ghostly music filled the library and the eyes in all the portraits followed the group as they hurried through. A cold wind rushed past them into the living room. Their host pointed to a large oil painting over the marble fireplace and told the story of the daughter’s wedding. Lightning suddenly flashed in the windows and a torrential downpour began. Another cold draft pushed around their legs as a voice circled the room above them. A figure slowly began to appear in the middle of the room. It was the Captain himself, wearing a drenched yellow slicker.

  “Ahoy there, mateys. We have a nor’easter brewing outside tonight. We be safe enough in here.” He gave an ominous chuckle. “Now then, I’ll be tellin’ ya about my relatives you can see on the walls. Let me start with that fine fella in the corner.”

  As he pointed, the pictures around the room lit up one by one. The faces of the men and women slowly morphed into something else—either a ragged skeleton or an evil cat. When he heard a shrill scream, the Captain dissolved into a puddle of water as a banshee flew out of the bricks of the fireplace. His wife circled the room and vanished out the open window.

  “Wow, that’s awesome!” Peter tugged on his mom’s hand as they followed the guide up a staircase and into a lady’s bedroom. As they walked through, ghosts materialized in the chairs as the fireplace suddenly roared to life. With knitting in hand or a loop of embroidery, the women vanished before their eyes, but the empty chairs still rocked. A hidden panel slid open and Hairy the Arm grabbed the guide and pulled him inside the darkened passage as the door slammed shut. Over the sound of an intense scuffle, the guests were told to move to the next room where they saw the Headless Horseman gallop by an open window. Their guide reentered the room. His costume was badly messed up but he assured them that all is fine.

  Lance leaned over to whisper to Wolf as they entered the Grand Ballroom. “This is what it looked like inside Gracey’s mansion, too. Well, minus the cobwebs, of course.” The large banquet table held a wedding cake, dripping candles and dead flowers—all covered with cobwebs. Ghosts appeared at the table and some began to waltz. Footprints appeared on the floor and led to the organ at the far end of the room. When the eerie music began to play, the storm intensified and ghosts flew into the house in a never-ending stream.

  “That was cool!” The exit left them in a walled garden with paths that led to the family graveyard. “Can we go again?”

  “See?” Kimberly sounded eager. “Now you remember it?”

  The three just shook their heads. “This is the first time we’ve seen it, Kimberly.” Lance frowned as he thought back. “The only thing that was vaguely familiar was the ballroom scene. The Haunted Mansion had a similar set-up.”

  “Oh, and the eyes that followed you when you walked.” Peter had been quiet after leaving the Old House as he thought about all the new effects he had seen. He now piped up as they returned to Main Street. “Inside the mansion with Constance, there were these two busts that followed you. Even she said they gave her the creeps.”

  “Who is this Constance? You’ve mentioned her before.” Kimberly turned her attention to Peter once they were seated on a bench in Town Square.

  “The Bride in the Attic? Gracey’s wife? Don’t you remember, Mom?”

  Kimberly looked toward the Old House and shook her head. “There was a bride back there, but I think it was Blood’s daughter. Her name wasn’t Constance.”

  Wolf stood silently beside their bench. In an attempt to get some clarity, Kimberly directed her next question to him. “Was there anything different about this trip, Wolf? Did anything happen that had never happened before?”

  Wolf just shook his head. He had gone over the entire trip in his mind, over and over again, and replayed everything he remembered. “The only difference this time was that Lance and Peter were there. But, that shouldn’t have mattered. I’ve gone back with numerous other people but nothing had been changed before now.”

  After quickly glancing around, her voice lowered. “But you were a wolf, right?”

  Peter had been quiet as he listened to the ongoing discussion. But when he heard his mom’s question, he had to jump in. “Oh, Mom! You should have seen him! He was so cool! All black with this white spot on his chest. His fur had this kinda silver shiny tips on it. Kinda like his hair now but thicker and really soft near his pointy ears and….” He broke off when he saw Wolf glare at him, his blue eyes narrowed. “And his eyes looked just like that. Sorry.” He gulped and then decided to clamp his mouth shut.

  Wolf turned back to answer Kimberly’s question. “Yes, I was a wolf. Pointy ears and all.” He momentarily glanced at the boy before he continued. “The only time that changed was when Merriweather sent me back as a man so my father could see the real me that one time. It never happened again.” They could hear the regret that was obvious in his voice.

  “Okay, if it wasn’t you, could it have something to do with Lance or Peter?”

  “You sound like you believe us now, honey.” Lance felt a surge of relief go through him. “Why the change? You seem…I don’t know…comfortable with Disneyland the way it is. Why do you believe us now?”

  She paused for a moment before answering. It still sounded completely impossible to her. Disneyland was as it always was. She had never even heard her father mention a Haunted Mansion—as far as she could remember—and he was one of Walt’s right hand men. How could her memories—and those of everyone at the Park around her—be changed? How could all of them be wrong and only these three people be right? “I believe it because you believe it. I have always trusted and believed in all of you. If something is wrong, we’ll just have to figure it ou
t.”

  Lance leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Thanks for not thinking we’re nuts.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Well, I didn’t say that. Out loud…,” she mumbled loud enough for them all to hear.

  Lance stood and helped her to her feet. “What do you say we all go back home and talk this through in a more private setting? Wolf? Do you want to come with us? We’ll get some takeout on the way.” He glanced at his watch. “Plus, we need to be there when Andrew and Michael get home from school.”

  Wolf looked over at the tip of the Old House that could be seen above the Emporium gift shop. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. It’s too upsetting to stay here. I want to fix it and I can’t.”

  Lance put a companionable hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “Well, we’ll try to work it out. We’ll get everything back to normal somehow.” He smiled to himself when Wolf squirmed under his hand. He knew Wolf didn’t like being touched that way.

  “I can’t believe I broke Disneyland.”

  “Wolf, will you please quit pacing. You’re going to wear out the rug.”

  Wolf was about to give a sharp retort to Lance, but caught a glimpse of Peter’s anxious face. Biting his tongue, he perched on the very edge of the sofa in Lance’s office and somehow managed to cross his legs. His look, however, conveyed even more stress. If anything, he appeared to be more apt to break out and run than to relax. “Fine. I’m sitting. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.” Lance’s response was dry even though he understood Wolf’s nerves. All those present had them. But the pacing made everyone more edgy. “So, you say nothing like this ever happened after one of your trips.”

  Kimberly had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they got back to the house. Seeing the negative shake of Wolf’s head, she finally spoke what had been on her mind and bothersome since the revelation in Disneyland: “But how would you know?”