It All Started... Read online

  Now Lance began to second guess himself. Was it really Disney he found? Who else knew about the cave under Pirates of the Caribbean? Or, perhaps he knew too much? He’s seen the cursed treasure…. This last thought made Lance especially nervous. What would happen to him if that was the case?

  Lance’s usually cool demeanor began to crack again. He wanted some answers himself. “If you knew about the diary all along, why didn’t you look for the treasure yourself?”

  “Youknow, if you keep getting mad and defensive, we’re never going to get anywhere,” the man coolly pointed out. “Please, Mr. Brentwood. Do sit down and relax.” The blond-haired man tiredly leaned back in an elaborate, tapestry-covered wingback chair.

  Lance reluctantly sat in the chair opposite the man. For the first time, Lance carefully scrutinized him as the older man reached over to pick up a Waterford tumbler sitting on the teak table beside him. Lance pegged the man closer to seventy years old. Although he retained a blond color in his hair, making Lance assume a Scandinavian lineage, the man’s skin was aged and his hand shook slightly as he held the small glass of amber liquid. Lance didn’t think the older man would put up much of a fight. However, there was a sense of confidence, an undisclosed knowledge the man displayed that added to the intrigue Lance was experiencing. As mad as Lance was, he was also curious.

  Taking a small sip of his brandy, the older man glanced over at the young woman who frowned at him from across the room. During the questioning she had quietly slipped into the room and taken a seat opposite Lance and her father. Her displeasure seemed to stem more from his choice of beverage than anything said in the dialogue that had taken place since she came in.

  “I’m only having this one drink, Kimberly, my dear.” Correctly interpreting her expression, his attention returned to Lance before she could reply. “Mr. Brentwood, I need to know some things before I tell you what you want to know.”

  Lance felt he was being put off yet again. He angrily jerked up from his seat and stormed to a window that overlooked the same vast yard he had viewed earlier from the room two floors up. From their conversation he had learned they were somewhere in Fullerton, apparently a very exclusive portion of the Fullerton Hills. From this vantage point, he could see far beyond the property and below into the Valley. But he wasn’t interested in the view. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

  The blond-haired man noted Lance’s defensive posture. He looked over at Kimberly for affirmation. She nodded. “All right, Mr. Brentwood, all right.” His sigh was one of resignation, if not a sense of surrender. “If you would please take your seat again, I will attempt to answer your questions.”

  Lance slowly walked back to his chair, not saying anything. He would hear them out, and then he would leave.

  The blond-haired man took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts for a final solution to a difficult problem. He knew he would lose Lance if he didn’t reveal some important facts. He had waited such a long time for someone to enter that cavern, to find Walt. This was Walt’s wish…his command, really. Now he was about to reveal a secret that he had kept for over forty years—a secret he had revealed only twice: Once to his now-deceased wife, and, only recently, to his only offspring, his daughter Kimberly.

  He just hoped this wasn’t a mistake.

  “Mr. Brentwood. Lance, if I might? It would put things on a friendlier level.” On receiving Lance’s reserved nod, he continued. “Thank you, Lance. You’re wondering about the treasure hunt you and Adam went on. You’re wondering how much I really know and what I want. Correct?” At Lance’s curt nod, he went on. “Yes, I do know everything about the diary and your treasure hunt. I know where you went and what you retrieved. What I do not know are some of the particulars on how you arrived at your answers and some of your actions to find the hidden capsules. That is why I was questioning you so carefully. I needed to know your involvement as compared to Adam’s involvement. Why you were in the search. What you hoped to get out of it. What were your contributions. Unlike you, I do know what Adam and his Beth got in that small chamber. I know the value of each item. So you see, Lance, I am not a treasure hunter. The items that were found by the three of you do have worth, both financially and historically.” After a brief pause, he added, “Especially those that Adam and Beth found in the outer chamber of the cavern. I also know that Beth has been able to use her new-found notoriety and Disney historical contributions to get her job back at Disneyland.” The blond man leaned forward in his chair toward Lance. “I, on the other hand, have no need of that relatively small treasure. I already have something of far greater value…both intrinsically as well as extrinsically.”

  Lance felt his heart skip a beat. Just a few days earlier, he felt he lost out on whatever significant treasure Walt may have left behind. And, more importantly to him now, he had destroyed his friendship with Adam and Beth…something he understood was of so much more value than any monetary find. There were still reservations in his mind regarding this blond-haired man as the memory of the pistol pointed at him inside the cavern under Pirates of the Caribbean was still fresh in his memory. Yet, his own recollection of pulling a gun on Adam and Beth not so long ago made him wonder if this man was, perhaps, offering him a second chance.

  At something.

  The man continued with his explanation. “What I need to know is, what are you capable of handling?” He became slightly amused at the bewildered expression he had just invoked on Lance’s face. “Because, Lance, I need you to understand very clearly that this treasure hunt for the Hidden Mickeys, as Walt liked to call them, is not over.”

  Lance felt as if he was again under the effects of that blue gas. A wave of incredulity crossed his mind as he tried to understand what the blond-haired man had just said. “It’s not over? What do you mean?” And he just referred to Walt as if Walt himself personally told the man about the Hidden Mickey quest. After the experience he, Adam, and Beth had been through, Lance couldn’t possibly believe there was more to this incredible adventure.

  When the blond man paused in his lengthy explanation, Lance waited silently, stunned at what this man was telling him. He now literally sat on the edge of his chair, waiting for more. When no more was forthcoming, Lance knew he needed to say something. But, what? There was so much to contemplate. One thing, however, kept coming back to Lance’s mind. He decided to voice it first. “So, if you aren’t looking for the treasure, what are you doing?” Lance paused for a moment, and licked his dry lips. “And what do you want from me?”

  The blond-haired man glanced once more at the woman sitting diagonal from the two men. She again nodded for him to continue. “I am not seeking the treasure because I am, well, for lack of a better word, the Guardian.”

  Lance frowned. Although he had no clue as to what the older man would tell him, this was definitely not on his “top-ten” list of guesses.

  “The guardian? The guardian of what? The treasure? Some other treasure?” Lance queried, his hands held out from his sides.

  The green eyes of the older man peered steadily into Lance’s brown ones. He shook his head. “No.” A somber, respectful look fell across the man’s face. “Of Walt.” There were even more questions in Lance’s eyes. “Yes. Literally of Walt,” he repeated. “And I am ill…very ill.” His glance was pulled from Lance’s face and looked at his daughter with resignation. She couldn’t disguise her sadness and he choked on his own emotion, cutting his sentence short.

  Kimberly stood to go to her father, and for the first time since the two men began their discussion, spoke: “And now my father needs a replacement.” She placed a hand on his shoulder where he lovingly put his own aged hand on hers.

  “Me?” Lance’s eyes were big as he looked back and forth from Kimberly to her father. He hadn’t recognized the resemblance before, but now he clearly saw it. Same green eyes, blond hair—though hers was several shades darker. Both were tall and with striking facial features that indicated a strong bloodline. His realiza
tion of their relationship had his mind racing again.

  “I didn’t say you, Lance.” The blond man quickly gained control of his emotions and pushed himself up out of the chair to stand next to his daughter. He held his hands up in front of him. “It might be you, might not,” the blond-haired man replied cryptically. “Certainly you, Adam, and Beth are persons of interest. There’s much to be done before a successor is named and trained.” He paused as he carefully considered his next few words. “Pardon my use of theatrics, but whomever we choose must prove worthy of the task.” His words were solemn and direct. “And be willing.”

  Lance took a deep breath, holding it for a moment then letting it out very slowly, very deliberately. Somehow finding himself on his feet, Lance sat back down as he watched the man’s daughter step forward to take over for the moment.

  “Your Hidden Mickey quest was the start, Lance.” A pleasant smile covered her beautiful face. “You and Adam had a good start, but you required a third party, Beth, to finish. We would like to know how well you yourself can do.”

  Lance thought over her words. “So I need to figure out some clue by myself? Is that what you want?”

  “That’s only part of it, Lance. We know you’re intelligent. That isn’t the point. How far are you willing to go? How committed would you be? Who would you trust? How much are you willing to give up to protect the legacy?”

  Lance thought again about pulling a gun on Adam and Beth and flushed. How much further would he have gone to claim that unknown treasure? Did this blond-haired man and his daughter know about the gun? Were they testing him now?

  He got up to pace. This seemed to be a puzzle that had an ever-increasing number of pieces. “I’ve seen the chamber under Pirates. It’s safe to assume that it isn’t public knowledge? And that I am here only because I am the one who found Walt?” He paused and got an affirmative nod from each of them. “You said you are the guardian of Walt. You talk about commitments and legacies and being willing to give things up. What is involved in all of this? I think I need to know more before saying Yes or No to your offer.”

  The blond-haired man gave him a small smile. “I haven’t made you an offer. You’re sounding more and more like the lawyer your father wanted you to become.”

  Before Lance could challenge this personal information, Kimberly looked at her watch and broke in. “If you both will excuse me, I need to get to work. I am Princess Belle today,” she explained with a grin and a curtsey.

  “You work at Disneyland?” Lance looked stunned. “How come I’ve never seen you?” He didn’t add that he would have surely noticed someone as beautiful as she. “Doesn’t Belle have brown hair?”

  “Oh, I’ve seen you. Many times,” she answered with a broad smile. “But you were usually surrounded by younger girls. I probably seemed way too old for you!” With a quick laugh, she went over to kiss her father good-bye.

  Lanced watched Kimberly move to her father’s side, seeing her now with an inquisitive, appreciative, eye. She was far from being too old. I know I wouldn’t have thought that.

  “Have a good day, my dear. Oh, I’d like you to check out that rumor floating around New Orleans Square. We need to see how serious they are about the additions.”

  “Will do.” She headed out the door.

  Lance stared at the empty doorway, unaware he was doing it. The room felt empty now that she was gone. Her father silently watched him. He knew Lance’s reputation. When their eyes met moments later, each wisely said nothing.

  1964

  It was a beautiful spring in Disneyland. The jacaranda trees were in full bloom and kept the street sweepers busy as the fragrant purple blooms fell. The tulips planted in the Hub at the end of Main Street and in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle gave a vibrant contrast with their vivid yellow color. Two men stopped on the drawbridge of the Castle to lean over the railing and watch the two swans slowly swim by. One of the men was much older, wearing a non-descript black jacket and a floppy-brimmed hat that drooped over his well-known face. He paused in the instructions he had been giving the other man, who busily scribbled every word in his notebook. The other man’s blond hair shone in the bright sunlight. He had no need to shield his face. No one knew him or his name. He and Walt had worked hard to keep it that way. Even Walt’s private secretary Louise didn’t know this man.

  Also unknown to others—even to Walt’s older brother Roy—second only to Walt, this blond-haired man was the most powerful man at Disneyland.

  When the swans swam under the drawbridge and out of their sight, Walt turned back to the man and studied his face a moment. Knowing Walt’s ways, the man stood quietly and finished a thought in his notebook. A tour guide, dressed in her trademark plaid outfit and matching black cap, approached with her group of tourists. She held her riding crop in the air as she walked, the tour group’s identifying blue triangle hung from its end. She would go through the first archway in the Castle and tell them the story of Sleeping Beauty, then lead them through the diorama of the fairy tale inside the Castle.

  Walt turned away as the group approached, not wanting to be interrupted at this time. He had a lot to go over with the younger man. When the guided tour was far enough away not to hear and recognize his familiar voice, Walt looked over toward the wooden fort entrance of Frontierland and its neighboring Adventureland. He would need to head over to the Jungle Cruise next.… Abruptly Walt turned back. The man raised his pen and waited. Walt saw the gesture and smiled to himself. He had chosen wisely.

  “You know, Disneyland is a work of love. We didn’t go into Disneyland just with the idea of making money. You know that, don’t you?”

  The pen stopped moving when he realized the question was aimed at him. “Yes, Walt. I do.”

  Walt regarded the other man’s face again and nodded. “Yeah. I think you do. Probably better than anyone else here. That’s why I am working so hard to preserve all this. Follow me.”

  They started walking toward Adventureland. Walt stopped every now and then to pick up some scrap of paper or test the strength of the railing around the Tiki Room. When he was satisfied, he continued walking. “When you believe in a thing, you need to believe in it all the way, implicitly and unquestionable. We both believe in Disneyland. Do you know what it will take to protect all this for the future?”

  His companion smiled. “Faith, hope, and pixie dust?”

  Walt tilted his head back and let out a loud laugh. A coughing spasm hit him and caused him to grasp one of bamboo-like railings next to them. “Wish that would go away,” Walt murmured as if to himself. “But, it won’t….” He chuckled again. “That was a good one! Yes, it will. But, more realistically, it’ll take a life-long commitment, a lot of work, and eyes in the back of your head.” Walt searched the younger man’s face. “You up for it?”

  The younger man looked at the well-loved face of his boss. This was no time for jokes. “Yes, I think I am. I know I am.”

  Walt nodded at the determined finality in his voice. “Yeah, I think you are, too.” He glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “You and I are both realistic enough to know that neither one of us will live forever—at least, not in this form.” Walt ran a hand down his side. “Well, I do want to live forever….” He paused to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “You know what I’ve been working on for years. Well, the pieces are falling into place very nicely, if I do say so myself. I’m rather pleased with these Hidden Mickeys I have in place. And then I came to realize that I was being somewhat narrow-minded. I was just thinking of myself. I came to realize that I needed to think of you and your future. Now, you’re a young man with your whole life ahead of you.” Another cough shook Walt. “Darn cough…. Like I was saying, you never know what’s coming and you’ll need to be prepared for your eventuality.” He paused and gave a fond smile. “Hopefully, for you it will be a lot longer than I was given. I set in place another arm of the quest. If you get to the place and time that you need a suc
cessor like I do, use this.” Walt reached in his jacket and pulled out a white, unsealed envelope. He looked at it for a minute as if he didn’t want to have to relinquish it and all that it meant. “I don’t need to explain all the particulars. You’ll look them over later and will understand. Place them where you will.”

  After handing over the envelope—and what it represented—Walt started to walk toward Frontierland. He was silent until they reached the Rivers of America. He waved to the pilot of the stately white steamship, the Mark Twain, as it chugged by. When he resumed talking, his voice was softer, showing the emotion behind his words. “All this has to be protected.” His broad gesture took in the whole Park. “I have to be protected. Thirty, forty, fifty years from now, I want to see what my Park has become.” He turned back to the blond-haired man. “You understand what I am saying?”

  The notebook was closed. “You will, Walt,” he promised. “You will.”

  2002

  Hours later, Lance was dismissed. Head spinning with the enormity of the task ahead of him, he sat quietly in the back of the black Cadillac as the blond-haired man’s chauffeur drove him back to Disneyland and his waiting car. Lance went over all the things that the mysterious man had told him: “First and foremost is the protection of Walt.” “Your name will never appear on public records again.” “No one will know who you are outside of your Security job—which you should keep, by the way.” “You will never attend a Board of Directors meeting.” “Your name will never appear on any stock certificates.” “You have to keep your finger on the pulse of the Park.” “Make sure all future clues are kept in place within the Park.” “Monitor current medical breakthroughs.” “You will have the deciding voice on certain changes within the Park.”

  Daniel Crain, the man behind the wheel, surreptitiously watched Lance in the rearview mirror. He could see different emotions float over Lance’s face as he thought over all he had been told. When their eyes happened to meet in the mirror, Daniel offered, “If you need any help or suggestions, just ask. I’ve been in this for years.”