HIDDEN MICKEY ADVENTURES 2

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  All three sets of eyes turned to her. Lance voiced their question. “What do you mean, honey?”

  She forced herself to remain in her chair. Pacing would feel pretty good right about now. “I mean, how would you know if something changed or not?” She looked at each of the three travelers, a frown on her face as she tried to think it through and put it into words. “Out of everyone you talked to—including me—you three are the only ones who think something has changed. The rest of us think the Park is as it should be, as it has always been. What if you guys are the ones who are wrong? What if the Park right now is correct? Who’s to say which Park is right and which one is wrong?”

  “But our memories are of the Haunted Mansion. I remember The Ceremonial Dances, but they’ve been gone for years. That restaurant was torn down a long time ago. How could we know about the Haunted Mansion and all those other details if the Mansion wasn’t really supposed to be there in New Orleans Square?”

  Lance’s argument made it more confusing and Kimberly gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. With all the research you’ve done in the past for the quests, perhaps you read about some plans for a different haunted house. Maybe…maybe it’s like a partially-remembered dream.”

  “But, all three of us, Kimberly?” Wolf ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “All three of us wouldn’t have had the same dream. You need to remember that I was with Walt during all the construction of Disneyland and I worked alongside your father. I, better than anyone else here, know what was done and what wasn’t.”

  “Didn’t Walt always want a haunted house, Uncle Wolf? I thought I read somewhere that he did.” Peter had listened intently to the discussion, but wanted to help in some way while he fiddled with something in his pocket.

  Wolf nodded slowly as he thought back to the early planning days of Disneyland. There had been so many projects that never got past the idea stage. “Yes, you’re right. Walt did want a haunted house. And what we just saw in the Park was kind of close to his original idea of a walk-through. There were a lot of drawings and layouts and even working props that were made for the Old House on the Hill.”

  “Then why can’t you accept the fact that this Old House is what got built? You just saw it. You just walked through it. It’s real.”

  “I know what I saw, Kimberly, but it isn’t supposed to be there.” Wolf made an effort to stand to start pacing again, but glanced at Lance and stayed where he was. He didn’t like being immobile. “At first Walt did want a walk-through but he was convinced that a ride would be better to keep people on the move, keep the flow going.” Wolf thought about those hectic years in the early 1960’s. “The construction work on the Mansion that Peter, Lance and I know was started in 1961 with a projected opening date of 1963. But Walt took on more and more work for the 1964 World’s Fair in New York. There was the Carousel of Progress, Mr. Lincoln, and It’s a Small World.” He stopped to look over at Kimberly. “You do know about those attractions, right?”

  She nodded. “Of course. And the dinosaurs on the train.”

  “Good, we’re on the same page there at least. Anyway, with all that work to do, the work on the Mansion kept getting pushed to the back burner. After the Fair, all those rides were moved and set up inside Disneyland. Then Walt died in 1966.” Wolf had to stop for a moment. He still missed his boss. Even after all this time he was still deeply affected by Walt’s death. After a fake cough to cover his show of emotion, he was able to continue. “There had been no final plans for the Mansion at that time and the ones left to work on it had a hard time—both in going on without Walt’s direction and in agreeing on what that direction should be. The Mansion didn’t open until three years later in 1969.”

  Kimberly shook her head and frowned. “That’s a good story, Wolf, but the House on the Hill was already built and in place by then. As time went on, the technology has been updated, of course, but it was already there!”

  “Honey, there isn’t supposed to be anything behind Main Street. It is just more lockers for the cast members and a well-used pathway for transportation like the street cars. It’s supposed to be open all the way from the berm to the end of Main Street.”

  “But, Lance, we know the native dancers. They’ve been here to the house. You have to remember that.”

  Before Lance could comment, Wolf held up a hand. They could go back and forth like this for hours and nothing would get accomplished. “Hold on there, everyone. Let’s just concentrate on the Haunted Mansion since it’s the biggest thing that’s not right. What else do we know about the Mansion, Lance? What other differences could there be that might link back to our trip?”

  When he realized Wolf wanted to focus the discussion, Lance leaned back in his chair and put his legs up on the desktop. “All right. Well, we only went through it one time, but the back-story on the Old House is very different than the Gracey version in our Mansion.” He began to count off the differences as he remembered them. “Walk-through versus ride. Different scenes. That hairy arm thing. There was no Madame Leota. The last name of Blood rather than Gracey. Different paintings—even though they did morph into something else. Pete?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What did you notice that was different?”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t listened very closely as his mind had wandered. “Umm, yeah, what you said. Oh, and the outside looked totally different. Our mansion was more square and all white. Weren’t there green balconies?”

  Wolf nodded. “Right. What else, Lance?”

  “The ballroom was pretty close with the ghost dancers and the organ.”

  “Too bad Gracey’s house burned down.” Peter suddenly gave a heavy sigh and looked at his fingers. “I hope Constance is okay.”

  “There wasn’t much of an interactive graveyard like….” Lance tried to continue, but was cut off by Wolf.

  “What did you just say, Peter?”

  Eyes wide, Peter wondered if he just got himself into more trouble. “I…I said I hope Constance was okay.”

  “No. Before that.” Wolf got off the sofa and strode over to the boy.

  “I don’t know! I said I was sorry the house burned down. That’s all.”

  Wolf put a calming hand on Peter’s shoulder and forced himself to talk in a quieter manner. “I didn’t mean to sound angry. It’s just that I had forgotten about the fire. Didn’t realize you had seen it. Your dad and I thought it best not to mention it to you.”

  Peter gave a snort. “It was hard to miss all the smoke. It was like, duh, the mansion’s on fire. Sheesh.” He caught the look his mom threw at him for his attitude. “Sorry.”

  Kimberly filed that away to deal with later. She wanted to get back to the discussion on hand. “So what if that house burned down in….” Kimberly broke off and looked confused. “What year did you go back to? Do you even know?”

  “1850.” Lance’s immediate answer caused Wolf to turn and look at him, the question obvious on his face. “There was a newspaper in the Golden Horseshoe. The Times-Picayune, if I remember correctly. And, I always do.” Lance gave a smug smile. He had one of those minds that remembered everything he ever read. It had come in handy on numerous occasions. At the less-than-appreciative looks he received, he gave a sigh. “Fine. It was 1850.”

  “Okay, so what if that house burned down in 1850? Why would that affect Disneyland today? I thought you said the changes made to Disneyland now affected the past, not the reverse.”

  Wolf could see she expected to him to have a ready explanation. “I don’t know, Kimberly. That’s the way it happened before, but I suppose it doesn’t mean that it’s always the case. It’s still a mystery to me and, so far, we don’t have the answers.”

  “But the real mansion in Disneyland looked just like Gracey’s house, not like the Old House on the Hill.” Now that Peter knew he wasn’t in trouble, he jumped in again.

  “Let’s step back a moment.” Kimberly stared at Wolf. “How do you think your mansion came
to look like it did? What happened back in the planning stages? Peter just said it looked different than what I know.”

  He pushed aside the irritation he felt every time she indicated he was wrong in his thinking. “There was a lot of discussion and drawings and ideas, but no agreement. Finally one of the Imagineers traveled to the old South to look at the old plantations that were still standing. When he found that one….” Wolf stopped mid-sentence and his eyes got wide.

  “And…,” Lance encouraged when he remained silent.

  Wolf’s head swiveled to Lance. His eyes were wide with excitement. “That has to be it. He came back with the perfect drawing of the perfect plantation. Walt loved it and decided to go with that one.”

  “You said that has to be it. What’s it, Wolf? I don’t follow.” Kimberly looked back and forth between her husband and Wolf.

  Wolf resumed pacing as he went over all of the facts in his mind. When he spoke again, it seemed to be more for his own clarity than for the others who anxiously awaited some break-through. “That has to be it.” At the far end of the room, he suddenly turned to Lance. “Don’t you see? If there was no perfect plantation, there could be no perfect drawing. They would have had to go with the houses they already had drawn and choose from one of those. When Gracey’s house burned, in effect the Haunted Mansion burned down with it! There couldn’t have been a drawing of a house that didn’t exist any more.”

  Lance’s feet came down from his desk as he leaned forward. “You really think that’s what happened? History was altered when the Gracey’s house burned down?”

  “That has to be it, Lance. I can’t come up with any other possible explanation.”

  “But how can we fix that?” Peter looked from one adult to the other. “How can we get Disneyland back the way it should be?”

  “We have to go back in time and prevent the fire in the first place.” Lance made the statement sound as if it was a simple thing to accomplish. “Right, Wolf? You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Wait, wait a sec.” Wolf had to take a moment and he stared sightlessly out the window at the expansive back yard. He had to think, had to work this out in his head. He had traveled back to his father in the past more times than he could count. But, time back there had always moved forward. He never went back further in days or years than the last time he had been there. It might be just hours later, sometimes years, but it was never earlier. Could he even do that? And, then there was the fire itself. What had caused it? Was it something he could stop even if he did manage to get back there in time?

  When he finally looked away from the window, three faces stared at him. He held up a commanding hand to halt the questions he could see would start at any moment. “Hold on. I need to know something first.” He turned to Peter who got wide-eyed and nervous again at being singled out. “You were in the house the longest. I never got inside, of course. Did you see anything that could have started a fire so soon after we left? Lance, I guess that question goes to you, too, since you went in after him.”

  They both immediately shook their heads. “They didn’t have any fires going in the fireplaces that I could see.” Lance paused as he thought back. “When I entered the mansion the second time, it was through the kitchen. I only saw it briefly, but there was a fire in a large brick oven. The oven looked pretty sturdy.”

  Peter agreed with him. “The fireplace in the bedroom I woke up in wasn’t lit. I remember because I grabbed a poke thingy to protect myself from Constance.” He broke off when he saw a concerned look come over his mother’s face. “No. It was okay, Mom. I didn’t know who she was at first. She was cool. Umm, there wasn’t any fire in Master Gracey’s office, either. I did grab a candle off the table in the banquet room….” He broke off and grinned at his father. “Dad, did you see what I did?”

  Lance got a big smile on his face. “You mean the Hidden Mickey plates? Yeah, that’s how I knew you were there in the mansion and that you were okay.”

  “Where did you go with your candle, Peter? I don’t know any of this part.” His mother’s reminder brought him back to his narration.

  “There was this cool hidden panel next to the organ and I went in there to, uhm, hide from Master Gracey. He sounded really angry. I found some stairs going up to a secret door into the attic. It was really dark. You know, Dad! A room with no windows….”

  “And no doors,” Lance finished in a spooky voice, “leaving you to find the way out!”

  “If you two don’t mind, can the boy finish sometime within our lifetime?” Wolf ignored the laughter going on between the father and son.

  “Sorry, Uncle Wolf.” Peter didn’t look a bit sorry. “Anyway, the attic was really dark and kinda spooky. I found a bunch of candles and lit them all around the room so I could see. I kept bumping into things.” As if he just remembered it, he rubbed a bruise on his leg.

  “Yeah, we heard.” Lance smiled at him. “That’s how Constance knew where you were. She took me through a secret passage in her bedroom.” Realizing how that sounded, he cast a sideways glance at the upraised eyebrows on his wife and forged ahead. “We each had candles. Now that I think about it, I did smell something in the attic, something that smelled burned.”

  Peter looked sheepish. “Well, I kinda burned this lacey foo-foo thing on the little piano. The wax was dripping down the candles for some reason…ours never do that...but I put it out with my hand. I know I put it out!” A worried look came over his face and he looked from his dad to Wolf for reassurance that he hadn’t done anything wrong—that the fire hadn’t been his fault.

  Lance held out his hands to placate Peter. “I’m sure you did put it out, Petey. But, candles in that time weren’t like ours. They were usually made of beeswax and got pretty hot. There were a lot of candles lit around the room. There was a lot of furniture and old clothes, too.”

  “Lots of things that would be flammable?” Kimberly knew how dry old furniture could get.

  “Yes.” Lance’s reply was slow and there was a frown between his eyes as he thought back. “I remember there were also old photos and paintings. Lots of things that could burn.” He turned to Wolf. “Do you think that could be the answer? I didn’t think about putting out the candles. I would have thought Constance would go back to do it. We were too intent on getting out without being seen.”

  “Which didn’t go too good.” Peter’s voice was just a mumble as he shivered. He had been pretty worried when his dad had to face Master Gracey’s sword with just a tree branch.

  Knowing what Peter was reliving, Lance went over to give him a hug. “Hey, we came out all right. My leg’s just sore, that’s all. Even though you did whack Wolf pretty good with the stick, we’re all okay.”

  “Speak for yourself. My tailbone still hurts.”

  “I think I need to hear the whole story one of these days.” Kimberly gave a small chuckle in spite of the seriousness of the matter. “But let’s get back to the fire. If the fire did start in the attic as you seem to think, wouldn’t the…Graceys you called them? Wouldn’t they have been able to put it out? What were they doing?”

  Lance and Wolf exchanged a look and glanced at Peter. They didn’t want to say anything about the grisly scene in front of him. Kimberly saw the exchange and wondered about it but decided to remain silent. Obviously it had something to do with Peter that they didn’t want to talk about, so she would ask them privately later.

  “They were all out in the yard.” Peter didn’t see the look that passed between the two men. “They were having a costume party and then everyone ran outside to catch us when we were getting away. Should I tell Mom about the gun?” He had directed the question to his dad but kept on talking before Lance could stop him. “He actually shot at me! I never did anything to him and he tried to shoot me! Well, I think he was shooting at me. Mighta been at Uncle Wolf. Then Dad shoved me and told me to run to the trees. There was a lotta noise and yelling and Uncle Wolf was growling at everyone.” As h
e retold the adventure, he became more animated, his arms waving around. The exuberant look on his face suddenly dimmed and he took a big swallow. He looked over at Lance, his expression serious—and very sad. “She…she hit him with the axe, didn’t she, Dad?”

  At Kimberly’s shocked gasp, Lance held out a hand to ask her not to say anything just yet. As he crouched down next to the boy’s chair, Lance put a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you saw that, Petey.” His voice was low, almost apologetic. “We tried to get you out of there when we saw it coming.”

  “Well, I didn’t actually see it.” Peter’s confession came with a sickened grimace. “I more or less heard it. If we go back, would we be able stop it?”

  “We don’t even know if Wolf can go back, Pete. At least, not back in time to stop everything. Right, Wolf?”

  Wolf just shook his head and shrugged. He was still trying to work it all out in his mind.

  “Do you need to talk about it, Peter?” Kimberly came to the other side of the boy’s chair and caressed his face with her hand. “It sounded pretty awful.”

  “I dunno.”

  “Well, if you do, we’re all here for you. You know that.”

  “’Kay.” Peter looked up at his dad as he tried to figure out some of the missing pieces of the story. “I think he hurt her. She didn’t seem very happy. He was a bad man.”

  Lance looked at Kimberly over the boy’s head. What do they say to that? There was no easy explanation for what happened. They couldn’t justify either side’s actions. Best to let it be for now for Peter’s sake. They’d bring it up again at a later date when things had calmed down and they could discuss it fully and rationally.

  “Wolf, do you think stopping the fire would get things back to normal around here?” Lance wanted to divert Peter’s attention from the murder and get the discussion back on track.

  Wolf slowly nodded. He had remained quiet and just thought it out as the three of them talked. It appeared to be a reasonable explanation as to why the Mansion disappeared from Disneyland. Now all he had to do was figure out how to go back to an earlier time than before. There had to be some way to accomplish it that he hadn’t considered.