Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  Disneyland – 2007

  Rubbing his forehead, Wolf was surprised to find a welt. Apparently Walt’s rock yesterday had hit him harder than he thought. “Great. Now I have to come up with an explanation for this if anyone asks.” He smiled in spite of his grousing. Walt did have a pretty good arm on him. Wolf’s walkie-talkie beeped and interrupted his thoughts. He saw it was his private channel direct from the War Room—the secret room Walt had built into the Blond-Haired Man’s mansion in the Fullerton hills. This was the central base of operations for watching and protecting the Hidden Mickey searches he had set up prior to 1966. Now under the control of Lance and Kimberly Brentwood, the War Room was just as active as it had been in the beginning as Disneyland continued to grow and develop over the years. There were still secrets and more clues that needed to be protected for future discoveries. And, there was still some unfinished business, such as Doctor Houser’s protection and well-being.

  Walking past the busy entrance of the Blue Bayou Restaurant, Wolf brought the speaker to his mouth and gave a brief, “Just a minute, Boss,” as he headed for a more private section so he could talk freely if need be. Knowing the steam train, the C. K. Holliday, had just left the New Orleans Square station, he chose the empty exit ramp at the opposite side of the station, far enough away from the nearby French Market Restaurant’s outdoor tables and the busy entrance to the Haunted Mansion so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Sorry about that,” he said when situated.

  “Hello, Wolf. Kimberly here. How are you?”

  Wolf smiled to himself. It must not be too important if she was going through the pleasantries. “Fine, thank you. And you?” he answered dryly.

  He could hear her throaty chuckle. “All right, Wolf, I’ll get to the point. We think we have a lead on your, uhm, missing person.” She seemed hesitant to reveal more.

  “I’m in a secure location, Kimberly. You can talk freely.”

  “Oh, good. Lance found…Peter! Put that down, honey. That’s not a toy. I’m talking to Uncle Wolf…No, not now. This is important, hon….”

  “Unca Wolf!” came an excited scream through the earpiece. Wolf had to hold it away from his ear.

  “Hau Peter. Híŋháŋni,” Wolf smiled. He had been trying to teach the boy a few words of Lakota.

  “Mornin’, Wolf!” the boy exclaimed back and giggled, excited that he understood what Uncle Wolf had meant. From the other sounds Wolf could hear, it was obvious the boy was also getting adept at eluding his mother.

  “Very good, Peter. Let me talk to you mother. Now,” he added firmly.

  “Okay. It’s for you,” as the walkie-talkie was immediately handed back to Kimberly.

  He could hear the amusement in her voice. “You’ll have to teach me how you do that.”

  “It’s the voice.”

  She lowered her voice to a gravely depth. “Is this better?”

  Wolf gave a short laugh. “No, you’d probably scare him. You said something about a missing person?” He wasn’t much for chit-chat.

  Understanding Wolf’s idiosyncrasies, Kimberly got back to business. “Oh, yes. Lance ran across a rundown landscape business way out in the high desert around Apple Valley. From what he could tell, it never appeared very successful, but he thinks it is a viable lead.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “T.B. Landscapes.”

  Wolf gave a low chuckle. “Perhaps the name had something to do with the lack of success.”

  Kimberly appreciated that and laughed. “Yeah, could be. Anyway, Lance thinks this might be our long-missing Tom Bolte. Do you want to check it out, or do you want Lance to make the run?”

  “I’ll do it,” Wolf answered immediately. “If this T.B. is Tom, Lance might be put in danger, and we can’t have that. Besides, if it is Tom…I have some unfinished business with him.”

  Kimberly felt a shiver go over her arms. “We thought you might say that. I’m sending the address to your navigation system. Have a good drive.” She broke off. She was going to add, “Be careful,” but didn’t want to insult him. “Uhm, over and out,” she mumbled instead and ended the connection.

  Wolf smiled at the static he suddenly heard on the line. “Roger that,” he replied with a grin as he returned the device to his utility belt.

  His grin faded as he headed to the Security office to check out and change clothes. Yes, he had unfinished business with Tom and sincerely hoped this was not just another dead lead.

  The classic Mustang roared north on the 57 freeway, where it would merge onto the 60 for a short jaunt, before hitting Interstate-15 for the final leg of the trip. The distance was a total of about eighty-five miles; then he would head for Victorville and on into Apple Valley. Kimberly had added that the landscape business was “out in the country.” Wolf gave a dry chuckle as that terminology seemed to define most of the area through which he was traveling.

  His portable navigation system directed him to a remote area of the Valley. A weathered sign announced “TB Landscaping. No job is too small.” Wolf pulled to a stop in what might have been a parking lot at one time, and the dust cloud that had been following him settled over the bright red paint. The white racing stripes were now a dull gray color. “Great,” he grumbled, as the driver’s door clicked shut behind him.

  There were only a few dozen plants in containers waiting to be sold. A couple of drooping white birch trees seemed to be begging for water when he drove past them on his way to the main building. Ten pine trees seemed to be in slightly better condition in their huge wooden tubs. Whatever flowers were to be bought had long ago lost their blooms and were indistinguishable from one another. Rows of cactus appeared to be the only healthy options for purchase. Four tall metal windmills could be seen behind the sales building; their silver blades idle in the still air. A trellis near the dripping water faucet had some kind of orange flower hanging onto the faded white wooden slats. Parked near a stack of forty-pound bags of potting soil was a 1970’s model Ford flatbed truck with the company’s logo still readable on the dented door.

  Wolf took all this in as he walked slowly along the dirt path. There had once been pebbles on the pathway, but they had long been pressed into the dirt base. He couldn’t see any indications of prosperity—either now, obviously, or of any past grandeur that had faded over the course of time. Is this what Walt’s money had paid for?

  As Wolf approached the wooden building, a skinny man of medium height and sun-bleached hair emerged from the darkness. Dressed in overalls and a threadbare cotton shirt that might have been yellow at one time, the man wiped his forehead with a bright blue bandana. “Hot enough for you?” he asked pleasantly, looking over his prospective customer, his eyes stopping for a moment on the large welt in the middle of the man’s forehead.

  Wolf couldn’t honestly have said if this man was forty-five or seventy-five. The desert sun and his profession had obviously taken its toll on the man’s skin. “Are you Tom? Tom Bolte?”

  “Yep, that’s me. How can I help you? Have some lovely cactus for sale.” He swung an arm in the general direction of all the plants laid out on the ground.

  Casually putting himself between the man and the truck, Wolf put what he hoped was a friendly expression on his face and asked him, “I knew a Tom in Anaheim years ago. Did you used to work for Disneyland?”

  Tom mopped his forehead again. “Nope, I’ve lived here all my life. Musta been my dad. That your car? Nice! Always loved the Mustangs. Yours could use a wash, though.” He silently laughed at his own joke, abruptly stopping when he saw the stranger didn’t share the humor.

  “Your dad here? I’d like to say hello.”

  Tom looked away as if deciding what exactly to say. His dad had talked on and on about his time at Disneyland, how he had personally run the Landscaping Department for years. This man in front of him looked too young to have worked for his dad. “Yeah,” he finally said, “Dad loved working there. Said he had the Landscaping Department working like a fine-oiled machine. When
he had saved enough money, he moved out here and started the family business.”

  Wolf let the inaccuracies about which department Tom had really worked in slide by. It wasn’t up to him to settle that aspect of the matter. “I take it he isn’t here? Is he…uhm, still with us?” That was about as delicate as Wolf was capable of being.

  Tom turned his head to gaze at the distant hills, shimmering purple in the heat. A wave of emotion crossed his lined face. “No, he isn’t. He’s been gone for, oh, about ten years now.” He glanced back at Wolf’s face again, frowning. “You said you thought you knew him?”

  Wolf just nodded and remained silent.

  Not caring enough to get into the discrepancy of their ages, Tom shrugged. “Dad kinda wandered off one day. As you can probably see,” he admitted with a despondent wave around the area, “we aren’t exactly what you would call thriving. It always bothered him that he couldn’t do as well here as he had done at the Park. During one particular dry spell, he kinda snapped. Started muttering about some red heart-shaped ruby, of all things! Never did figure that one out,” Tom muttered, shaking his head at the memory.

  “Where did he go?” Wolf prompted when the man remained silent for a few moments.

  Indicating the hills again with a tilt of his chin, Tom replied, “That way. Me and my wife found him face down with his hand down an old gopher hole. He was still alive—barely. We poured some water over his face. He was mumbling something about bubbling pots of mud and that he fooled them all. Not sure who he meant by ‘them all.’ We got him to the hospital in Victorville, but it was too late. He was too far gone.” He looked over at Wolf’s face, hoping to get some answers to his father’s confused ranting. “Any idea what he was talking about? We’ve never been able to figure any of it out. You’re the first person who ever came by who says they knew him back then.”

  His own questions answered, Wolf hesitated. He saw nothing good that would come from explaining what had really happened so long ago. There was no need for him to shatter whatever illusions this man held of his father. He now knew the lingering threat hanging over the doctor was over. The money was obviously gone. The secret of the heart pendant still seemed to be safe. “No, I’m sorry. I wish I could help, but I have no idea. I’m sorry for your loss.” That was sufficient.

  Tom just gave a noncommittal grunt and nodded his thanks. He hadn’t really expected to learn anything.

  Wolf was about to leave when he heard shrill laughter coming from behind the sales building. “Are those your…” he broke off, not sure whether to say children or grandchildren.

  Tom’s face broke into a wide smile that transformed his entire face. “Grandkids. We’ve got three of them. Little devils,” he added proudly as they came tearing around the building, mindless of the heat or the dust. Seeing someone with their granddad, they came to a noisy halt, staring at the dark stranger.

  Coming to an instant decision, Wolf pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. Opening it, he chose one of the passes he always carried. Handing it to Tom, he explained, “This is a two-day park-hopper pass for up to eight people. Good any day of the week. Just present it at the main gate.”

  Tom showed it to the three young ones who were pulling his arms down so they could see. When they saw the word Disneyland over the face of the pass, they got all excited. “This is where your great-grandpa used to work!” Tom proudly told the youngsters.

  Over the clamor, Wolf added, “Be sure to show them the topiaries over at It’s a Small World. I think they’ll appreciate the workmanship.” He just failed to mention that Tom Sr. would have had nothing to do with those beautiful landscaping items.

  “Thank you!” was Tom’s heartfelt reply after he sent the children off in search of their grandmother with the good news. “This will mean a lot to all of us.”

  Wolf just nodded as he headed for his dusty car. You’re turning into a regular softie, he told himself as the Mustang ate up the miles on I-15. Good thing Mato wasn’t here to see that. I’d never hear the end of it.… Lance doesn’t need to know, either.

  Disneyland – 2007

  Wolf could feel the electricity in the air. His hair felt prickly and he was jumpy, eager. He now knew that it was the right time to go back to the Island. And, this time he also knew he needed help.

  The Westside Operations cast member briefing had lasted two hours. General safety and regulations had been discussed as required by law. New cast members were introduced to the Lead on whichever ride they had been assigned in Frontierland, Adventureland, or Critter Country—the area known as the Westside. And, most importantly to Wolf, new rides and attraction changes were discussed, timetables were set, and affected assignments were rearranged. The main focus of the meeting was the coming changes that would affect both New Orleans Square and Tom Sawyer’s Island. Pirates were coming, and they were going to take over the Island. The changes would tie in nicely with the alterations that had been implemented within the popular ride Pirates of the Caribbean. Pirates were big now, and they felt it was time to give the fifty-one-year-old Island a facelift.

  As the briefing proceeded regarding New Orleans Square, Wolf half-listened impatiently to the changes being outlined, his eyes straying to the aluminum clock high on the wall behind the speaker. The Lead cast member lectured in a continuous monotone. Again Wolf found himself glancing anxiously at the clock, its hands continuing to count down the time in relentless monotony. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Tugging at the collar of his security uniform, it felt tight against his neck as an unfamiliar, nervous sweat broke out on his forehead. Why does he keep droning on and on? He’s worse than my father. You need to get out of here, his mind warned him. He had called the fog. It was coming. Soon. He glanced at the clock again. Very soon.

  His collar seemed to be closing in on his windpipe. Glancing around at the other cast members idly listening to the speech, no one else seemed to notice the loud ticking of the clock. Wolf slowly raised his hand to his hair, slowly so no one would see his movement and look over. Did his hair seem longer, thicker already? It is too soon! It shouldn’t change yet!

  Heart rate speeding up, Wolf felt a wave of panic. Not here! This isn’t right.

  He lowered his hand and rested it, palm down, on his leg. Eyes closed, Wolf tried to concentrate on his breathing to calm himself. In. Out. In. Out. There’s plenty of time.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  His eyes flew open as the sound of the clock came to his ears once more. Was his hearing getting sharper? Who in here had bologna for lunch? he wondered as his nose picked up the unpleasant scent and his head turned unconsciously toward the guilty person seated a few chairs over.

  The claw on his leg curled, digging into his thigh. His blue eyes widened in shock as he looked down. His nails had grown long and curving. There was thick black hair on the back of his hand now, tipped in silver like the hair on his head.

  With a startled gasp, he brought his hand protectively to his chest, hiding it as best he could. His eyes quickly darted around the room. Good. No one saw the transformation.

  Get out!

  The words bounced through his mind over and over. It felt more like an instinct than an actual thought. Still battling the change from human reasoning to animal impulse, he tried to rise slowly from his chair. The power coming into his legs made him awkward as the chair crashed to the floor behind him.

  Ignoring the chair, Wolf lunged for the door, grateful for the push bar exit rather than having to try and turn a door knob. Everyone had to be looking. They had to see the hideous change coming over him. They had to see it. His uniform was getting tighter and tighter.

  Without a look behind, Wolf ran down the passageway toward the freedom of the outside and the welcome, covering darkness of night. Just as he reached the door, he could see his reflection in the window and came to an instant halt. His paw reached up and touched the tufts of black fur sprouting out of his cheeks. His silver-tipped ears were now pointed and lay down angrily on
his head.

  Get out!

  The sound of a door being pushed open came to his ears at the same instant the instinct came to his mind. Tugging at the buttons threatening to suffocate him, Wolf barreled through the door at a run, swerving to the left to get into the trees and the River.

  Senses alert, he forced himself to stay on his hind legs, to run upright as he sought the safety of the River. Perhaps he could cancel the fog and the swirling mass waiting for him…. He had never tried that before.

  Head up as he ran, he tilted his face to the sky. As he was going to let out a soul-piercing howl, he saw the full moon directly above him. He snarled at it as he effortlessly climbed the berm, putting more distance between himself and his friends at the meeting.

  The silver-tipped fur covered his entire body now. His feet had pushed through the thick leather of his security boots, the claws menacingly protruding out of the front. His hat had already fallen off somewhere behind him, lost in the tangle of the trees surrounding Frontierland.

  As he emerged from the trees behind the Hungry Bear Restaurant, he started pulling off the shreds of the white shirt still hanging from his torso. His sharp canine teeth tugged and the buttons popped off onto the walkway, bouncing like gold nuggets in the bright moonlight.

  “Wolf? Is that you?” came a feminine voice through the fog of the change within his brain.

  His mouth closed with a loud Snap as his head spun towards the unexpected noise.

  Julia. The vivacious redhead from Pirates. Her hair glistened like burnished copper in the glow of the moon. She stood with his security hat in her hands, holding it out like an offering to a god.

  His animalistic impulses surged through his body. She is so beautiful.

  He tried to reach out to her, to take her hand, to draw her close to him for the kiss he had always wanted to taste from her lips. His mouth tried to smile as he took a step closer toward the beauty standing in the moonlight.