Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  Hidden by the tall, thick marsh grass, Wolf had to wait at the water’s edge for the steam train to make its journey past the Friendly Village. The Village was now lit in various places that strategically highlighted the peaceful scene. From where he waited, he listened to the recorded voice of the Shaman telling the story of how the flute came to their people.

  When the last car of the train had disappeared into the tunnel that took it to Fantasyland, he made his way to the backmost tipi, ducking inside so he wouldn’t be seen by the next train. The flaps were open at the top to allow the smoke to escape. Only, there was no smoke rising tonight. His family was not there. This was where he found his Security uniform just as his father had told him it would be. He sat in the middle of the round dwelling as he got dressed. It was an odd feeling. He had just been here moments earlier discussing his problems with his father. Now the likeness of his father wearing the same headdress was standing under the same rocky overhang. He had just walked past the Cooking Woman stirring the pot. It was a little trippy for him—even after all the times he had made the transition.

  Using the train tracks that circled the Park, he made his way back to the trestle in Critter Country. Walking across the trestle, he came to the exit of a tunnel. If he had kept walking, that tunnel would go past the Splash Mountain viewing window that allowed passengers on the steam train to see a glimpse inside the ride. This was the riverboat scene that was close to the final fifty-two-foot screaming drop. He also knew that it was in this very tunnel that Lance’s friend, Adam, five years earlier, had rappelled into one of the colorful caverns and retrieved a clue capsule left decades ago by Walt Disney. When Adam’s rope had been discovered near the yellow cavern after he had to literally run out of the tunnel in front of an approaching train, Wolf had been one of the security guards called in to investigate. When it became obvious that nothing was damaged and the perpetrator had long vanished, it was easy for Wolf to dismiss the case as too unimportant to waste more time in an investigation. As the security force walked out of the tunnel, Wolf had smiled in the darkness, wishing he could have seen the look on Adam’s face as the light of the train bore down on his back.

  Nobody in the queue for Splash Mountain or walking through Critter Country seemed overly concerned or surprised to see a security officer walk across the trestle and then stride down the cast member-only steps near the line. Had they looked closely, they might have wondered why his hair was wet and he wasn’t wearing any socks. As he had swum across the River, Wolf hadn’t noticed that his socks were now hanging from the mouth of the shaggy white dog standing on the log that reached out over the green water.

  Wolf moved silently behind the scenes at Disneyland. This area was called ‘backstage’ by the cast members. He hoped to avoid talking to anyone until he could determine exactly when in time he had come back. Heading for the lockers where the employees would change out of their costumes and then go home for the night, he knew there would be a calendar on the wall.

  Stifling a groan, Wolf nodded a curt greeting to two determined Haunted Mansion women. They recognized the handsome security guard and were intent on getting him to attend a private party in the Stretching Room of the Haunted Mansion after Disneyland closed in a couple of hours. It would be a coup for them. None of the women in the Park had been able to get the mysterious Wolf to join them in any of those private little rendezvous. They were again disappointed when he barely answered and kept walking.

  Wolf stared at the calendar tacked up on the wall in the locker room. Each day was carefully crossed out. It was tradition. No one messed with the calendar. Thursday. Good, only one day has passed since Wals and I went through the vortex together, buthow can that be? We’ve been gone two months.

  As Wolf considered the situation, he kept coming back to the same conclusion that he could no longer properly gauge the time difference. Whatever he had to do, he had to do it soon. Events on Rose’s Island were moving along much faster than he had previously thought.

  Surreptitiously glancing around, he saw he was alone in the locker room. He found Wals’ locker and inserted his master key into the lock. The door swung open and he stared at the jumbled contents. Clothes, shoes, CDs of music, a paperback novel, deodorant, after shave, a mirror, extra cast member nametags, the latest edition of Disneyland Line—the cast members’ own newsletter that held all the news of what was going on at the Park, a paper sack that held the smelly remains of some forgotten lunch, a stack of phone numbers, a handbill advertising the band Maxx, a brochure for a pizza parlor, a broken canoe paddle he hadn’t smuggled out of the Park yet. Usual stuff in the usual locker.

  The CD wouldn’t work unless Wolf took back a player that could withstand the energy and water of the swirling vortex…. Okay, he decided, nothing that actually had to work once it went through.… Paper products would be ruined in the water. Clothes? Shoes? No, it had to be something a wolf could easily carry, possibly tied around his neck. Wolf’s eyes kept going back to the nametags on the upper shelf. Wals had quite a collection he had swiped from his friends when their backs were turned while they changed clothes. Wolf picked up Wals’ current Dream tag that had the blue castle in the clouds at the top and the gold stars around the edges. This may work just fine. Now all he had to do was find some kind of thin rope or thick thread and a small bag to hang from it.

  But, what about the Doctor? Wolf paused in front of Wals’ locker. Since he hadn’t seen the doctor yet, he had to assume, by both Wals’ and Rose’s behavior, that the doctor would be in the same mental state of not being able to recall his other life. Wolf knew he had to be prepared for that contingency. He would need something that would jog the doctor’s memory and make him recall his former life. Even if Wals remembered, that was only half of the problem. Doctor Houser had now been gone forty-one years—well, forty-one years in today’s time frame, he reminded himself. It was impossible to gauge how much time had actually passed from the doctor’s perspective. What could possibly be relevant to the doctor that Wolf would be able to access? He had only met the man once in Walt’s apartment. It was at that moment that he recognized the importance of what his father had said, “Perhaps you didn’t think it through well enough when you were in the other world....” Perhaps he had been in too much of a rush when he had taken the doctor into the River that night. Slow down, think… follow the trail. Leaving Wals’ locker, he remembered following the simplistic trail the maintenance man had left. Wolf’s eyes narrowed as he thought back. The overcoat and hat. He then recalled he had worn Dr. Houser’s coat and hat when he had made the switch with the money bag. Not knowing what to do with them, he had taken the clothes back to Walt’s apartment, stashing them in the little closet. Well, there was only one way to find out if they were still there.

  Wolf headed back into the Park and entered the little side gate next to the Fire Station on Main Street. Again using his master key, he let himself into the silent, waiting apartment. The only illumination was the nostalgic light left burning in the front window for Walt. Opening the small closet, he felt a wave of sadness and loss wash over him as he thought about his boss. Because of his superior eyesight, Wolf didn’t need to turn on an interior light that might alert someone either on Main Street or walking behind the scenes of his presence in the supposedly secured—and empty—rooms. Pushed way in the back was the doctor’s overcoat. Someone probably assumed it was Walt’s and had left it. Good, something is finally going right.

  Having no reason to go through the pockets before, Wolf didn’t know what he might find. The outer right-hand pocket still held the crumpled ransom note. The left pocket was empty. Wolf’s spirit started to sag. He had hoped this coat would hold something he could use.

  He was just about to put the coat back on the hangar when he remembered some of his own jackets had an inner pocket. Sliding his hand inside the silk lining, his fingers closed on something cool and metallic. He pulled out an old Zippo lighter, silver in color, with engraving all over the front. Ho
pe returning, Wolf strode over to the light burning in the window, careful to stay off to the side, out of sight. Turning the lighter back and forth in the light, he could make out the engraved words “To Doctor Houser. Into whatsoever house I shall enter.… Our thanks. 1962.” In the center, surrounded by the words that formed an enclosing arch, were a mortal and pestle and the rod of Asclepius—the medical symbol of a staff entwined by a snake.

  Wolf smiled in the darkness. He didn’t know what the doctor had done to earn this special thanks, but it had to have been important enough for a non-smoking man to carry a cigarette lighter. If anything could make the doctor remember, this should.

  After one final look around the carefully preserved apartment, he carefully locked the door. With a determined step, Wolf headed for Costuming where the cast members got their outfits. He figured he could talk to the Sewing Department and get what he needed.

  The Island – 1817

  Frantic, Rose looked around one last time for her wolf. He was nowhere to be seen and Private Crain was gaining on her. She knew she wouldn’t make it back to the safety of her cabin before he caught her. Without a thought of the possible danger inside, she ducked into the dark opening of Injun Joe’s Cave. Only the bravest Islanders ever ventured alone into the winding, confusing labyrinth of tunnels. Some of them had never come out again.

  The underground tunnels wove around for miles in a jumbled maze. Some of the paths led to dead-ends. One led to some beautifully colored phosphorous pools. One skirted the edge of the dangerous Bottomless Pit. At least one tunnel led to the other side of the Island and surfaced across from the old mining town. It was in a remote part of the Island, far from what should have been the safety of the Fort. It wasn’t safe for Rose. That remote section was where she was headed. If she made it through fast enough, there would be plenty of places to hide until Crain gave up the chase. Wolf had led her through the tunnels many times, teaching her, she now realized, how to navigate the twisting turns.

  She could barely distinguish what sounded like swearing as Daniel Crain plunged into the musty darkness after her. Unlike Rose, he was unaware of the low-hanging rock formation just past the entrance. It caught him square in the middle of his sweating forehead. Trying not to make any noise as she hurried along, she smugly smiled in the growing darkness when his cry of pain reached her. The path she followed dropped at a gentle slope, just as she knew it would. She placed a guiding hand on the wall of the tunnel as she kept moving; it was getting darker and darker as she moved further from the light of the entryway. One more turn, and then the ground should start to rise again.

  She stopped short, a little confused. The tunnel abruptly ended. Frantically feeling her hands all over the rocky wall, she just knew she had been on the right path. Who filled in this tunnel!? She hadn’t realized she let out a sharp gasp until Daniel called out. “Ha! I heard that. I know where you are now, stuck-up female! You’re trapped.”

  Not wasting time replying, she quickly backtracked until she found the forked trail. One path led back to the main entrance and the other went past the Bottomless Pit. Beyond that, if she could find it, was one other route to the outside.

  She could hear the labored breathing of Private Crain echoing through the tunnels. Unused to any physical demands and secretly frightened of the growing darkness, he was fighting for control. If he did succeed in catching her, she knew she wouldn’t survive the outcome. Suddenly she tripped on a rock in the pathway. Quickly bending down, she picked it up in her hand. Her fingers closed over the rock, making a solid fist. Her blue eyes narrowed in the darkness. If he did catch up to her, at least she’d go down fighting.

  Hesitating for only a moment, eyes closed, she mentally thought through the alternate route. Choosing the wrong tunnel at this point could prove to be fatal. She lifted the hem of her skirt so it wouldn’t drag on the ground, possibly alerting Daniel which way she fled. With the sounds of him stumbling after her filling her ears, she hurried into the tunnel on the right, praying she remembered correctly.

  The wolf picked up the pieces of his uniform that were stuck in some low-flung branches at the edge of the River. He was careful not to bite down too hard and leave holes in them. The Costume department hadn’t been too happy the first time he returned the shirt for repairs. It had been difficult to get them to fix it without an explanation as to why and where a dog had bit him while on duty. He made as neat a pile as he could behind Rose’s cabin and drug some fallen branches over them for cover.

  It only took a moment for him to realize Rose wasn’t at home. He wondered why she would leave without the mare when he saw Sukawaka placidly nibbling on some weeds growing near her fence. Debating on whether Rose would have gone swimming at the Beaver Dam or would have walked to Fort Wilderness, he decided to check the Fort first. Nose up to catch any warning scents, he loped easily down the winding path along the River.

  Hiding in the thick undergrowth across from the open stockade gate, Wolf watched the activity going on inside the Fort. There seemed to be fewer soldiers now. The Regimental Headquarters building had been closed and there were now upright bars blocking the doorway and window. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the new doctor, he could hear voices coming down the path he had just used. He backed further into the covering brush and remained still.

  Private Crain came into view first, holding a dirty yellow handkerchief up to his bleeding forehead, his soiled white Calvary hat pushed back off of his scarred face. His uniform was all dusty and reeked of sweat. “I almost had my hands on that crazy woman, Billy. I almost had her,” he was telling his friend. “Then she just disappeared inside the cave. It was like the earth swallowed her up.”

  Billy spat into the bushes, unimpressed. “Hmph. More’n likely you were too scared to go in very far after her. You always were afraid of the dark, Danny!” He could have added thunderstorms and lightning to the list of Crain’s fears, but he would save that one for another time.

  “The heck I am.” Daniel tried to save face. “I hope she fell into the Bottomless Pit. Serve that uppity female right.”

  “Don’t know why you even bother wastin’ yer time with her. Don’t know how many times you need to get your face slapped.… That Yvette in the Cantina seems to think you’re all right. For some reason,” he added in a snickering undertone.

  Daniel didn’t like the way the conversation turned. He had a score to settle with that blond. He blamed her for everything that went wrong in his misguided life—even though his problems were of his own making. Unknowingly, he had transferred all the animosity, all the hatred he had toward his long-forgotten niece Kimberly onto Rose. When he managed to catch her alone, he would use his knife on Rose to finish what he had started in the escape tunnel of the Fort with Kimberly…. Lost in his own thoughts, he barely listened to Billy. He knew Yvette couldn’t stand his touch either, having told him so time and time again. She only pretended to like him when she served him drinks because it was her job to entertain all the soldiers, and she hoped some day he would actually pay her. He just saw no need to relay that information to his smirking friend. “I heard tell the Cantina is closing soon. Don’t know where we’ll get our liquor then. Yvette said she was going to get a job as a dancer in that fancy Golden Horseshoe Saloon way across the River.” Good riddance, he told himself, absentmindedly rubbing the scars on his face.

  Over the years, he had tried to remember how he got those scars—and the ones on the back of his hands—especially during the sporadic times he bothered shaving. The straightedge razor would stop midair as a lone piece of memory would dart across his mind. He remembered something big and black with wheels that went at a great speed…. It had to have been a wagon or a carriage of some sort. Was it the horse that had been black? Had he named it Cadillac? Then the memory would fade as it always did and he would finish shaving his face, no wiser to the mystery.

  The rest of the conversation was lost to Wolf as the two men went into the Fort and headed for their barracks. He d
idn’t care about them right now. He just knew he had to find Rose in the tunnels. He thought he had taught her well enough, but it did get confusing even in the best of circumstances. And, if Crain had been chasing her…. His eyes narrowed. Well, he’d have to deal with the Private later.

  Making sure no one was nearby to see him, Wolf left his hiding place and ran back to the entrance of the cave. Nose to the ground, he easily followed Rose’s scent until it, too, led to the new dead-end. They are already changing the Island, he knew instantly. I need to move more quickly.

  Nose down, Wolf followed her trail. He could see well enough in the darkness, but knew she would have had to move somewhat slowly—especially when she discovered the blocked path. It still took him twenty minutes to emerge into the daylight. Wolf knew that it must have taken her hours to come that far. Breathing in the clean air, he was glad to be out of the damp, dark tunnels as he pushed through the vines that had grown over the exit. Not seeing her in either direction, he again relied on his superior sense of smell to find his missing friend.

  When her trail ended, he knew to look up. Just as the cat at the Mansion had done, Rose had gone up a tree. There was an old treehouse built up in that huge oak, some wooden planks nailed to the trunk to use as stairs. He couldn’t see her, but knew she would be tucked back into the farthest corner. Never having tried it as a wolf, he was pretty sure he could manage to climb the rickety stairs, but didn’t think he needed to. He let out a low yip and a howl since they were located about a mile away from the Fort. Wolf didn’t think any soldiers were close by, but didn’t want to take a chance of being heard. Almost instantly her face cautiously peered over the edge. She broke into a beautiful smile when she saw him and let out a glad cry.