The Key To the Kingdom (35 page)

BOOK: The Key To the Kingdom
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So watch out, don’t pout, and don’t cry. Let me tell you why!

The clue was obviously a portion of the phrase from the classic Christmas song “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Hawk guessed there was a Santa Claus connection to the clue and searched the room for it. Of course the difficulty was in the fact that the room was bursting with Santa Claus souvenirs. Kiran drifted toward the far end of the room where the checkout counter was located. Allowing his eyes to follow her while she searched, he realized he had quit looking for clues and had settled on looking at her. She paused behind the counter. Her glance his way took a moment to register and then he knew he had been caught. He shyly smiled back at her.

“Keep looking,” she mouthed to him with a smile.

His mouth went drier than a stale Christmas cookie, and he had to force his attention back to the search.

Behind Kiran, mounted to the back wall of the room, was a shelf loaded with the stuff that might be found in the home of a Pennsylvania German family. The brown wooden shelf had pegs on the bottom where items could be hung for safekeeping. A pair of cutting shears, a whisk broom, a dress, and bonnet were suspended from the wooden holders. The shelf itself contained other items used for day-to-day life—clamps, a candle in a candleholder, and wooden spools of thread lined up like soldiers standing at attention keeping guard across the shelf. Yet there was one item on the shelf that did not belong with the other items. It was easy to miss, as it blended into the theme of the shop. On the right-hand side of the spool soldiers stood a simple statute of Santa Claus. It was as if Walt’s grandfather, Kepple, had left him a gift nestled among the family necessities tucked away on the shelf.

Hawk hurried across the room and jumped onto the counter. Startled, Kiran joined him and immediately began searching for what he’d spotted. He leaned out and stretched his arm to retrieve the Santa from its resting place. Lifting it gently he saw it had something tucked inside. Knowing exactly what it was, Hawk slid the small rectangular silver bar from inside Father Christmas. Turning it in his hand he found the words engraved on it and read them loudly enough for Kiran to hear.

“It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.”

“Another quote from Walt himself.” She smiled with satisfaction.

Hawk crouched down and stepped off the counter. Opening the square silver box he placed this new discovery in its slot. “It fits into the box just like the other two. Now there’s only one space left.”

“Then I suggest”—she nudged her head toward the shop’s entrance—“we get busy finding it.”

Kiran led the way back through the shop. Pausing for a moment inside the doorway they thanked the cast member who was still cleaning. Hawk searched the streets for any suspicious activity as they stepped back out into the dim glow of Liberty Square. The Hall of Presidents rose up in front of them and they moved across the street, stopping underneath the covered porch adjacent to the building.

Creeping through the Magic Kingdom at night made the theme park seem even bigger than it did during operating hours. “I think we’ll be less noticeable if we stay close to the buildings,” he softly said.

“Where do we go now?”

“I don’t know,” Hawk answered. Reaching down reflexively, he released Pal Mickey from his resting place.

“Did he signal you?” Kiran asked.

“No.” The minister looked toward the stuffed creature. “He didn’t. But it doesn’t seem to me like we finished the last clue yet.”

Walt’s grandfather has left you a gift. Find it quick, but be careful. I imagine there are a lot of people chasing us by now, and that can be a huge problem. But don’t worry, I once got seven with one blow, I’ll be here to help you, pal
.

The grandfather’s clue had been in the Christmas Shoppe. But the rest of the things that Pal Mickey added had to be the next part of the puzzle. Standing in the darkness with Kiran next to him, he explored his mind for the thought that would continue their journey. In the silence of the moment she ventured away from him and peered around the corners of their hiding place to scan the walkways to ensure they were alone and safe. Her movements were slow and methodical. He watched as she moved from one side of the covered porch to the other. Taking her time she gave Hawk extra precious seconds to think through what they should do next. Apparently satisfied they were very much alone for the moment, she returned and stood close to him. Still she said nothing.

Hawk gazed toward the Liberty Tree and for a moment drew a mental image of the Sons of Liberty gathered under the tree discussing what they should do next. There was no script or outline for them to follow; their quest for freedom wrote the pages of history as they went. Indecision was not an option for the founders of America. Surely they didn’t always know if they were doing the right thing, but they did do something. Hawk knew he had to do something as well. The mystery had brought him too far to end now. There was something else to do, something he was missing.

“We can’t just stand here!” Kiran finally caved in to her compulsion to say something.

“You’re absolutely right. You can’t just stand here!”

Hawk and Kiran jerked their heads toward the startling voice coming from the darkness just beyond the porch.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-S
IX

 
 

O
UT OF THE SHADOWS,
the man slowly materialized. His expressionless face was intensified by the unrelenting glare he cast toward Hawk and Kiran. The preacher wondered where he had come from. They had heard no one approach and Kiran had checked to make sure the coast was clear. The stranger’s first step had brought him out of the darkness where they could see him. His second step carried him close enough to invade their personal comfort zone. Reflexively Hawk slid in front of Kiran. The man now stood close enough so he could be heard as he spoke in a menacing whisper.

“You’re behavior has been extremely unacceptable, Dr. Hawkes.”

Grayson Hawkes was at a disadvantage. This man knew who he was. By identifying him as Doctor he revealed he knew exactly who Hawk was and what he did, and there would be little hope of bluffing their way through this encounter. Allowing his eyes to narrow Hawk studied the man who now stood threateningly close. He looked familiar but the preacher could not recall where he might have seen the man’s face before. Kiran pressed up against Hawk from behind as the man leaned even closer to speak again.

“You did far more than play ‘what if?’ didn’t you, Doctor?”

Hawk plowed through his memory trying to figure out who this person was. What he said had a familiar ring to it. It was a phrase that someone had used recently in conversation with Hawk, but in the firestorm of activity over the past few days he could not find anything beyond a flicker of familiarity.

“What if?” Hawk retorted with an edge that he hoped would defuse the intimidation he was feeling.

“Yes, what if?” A patronizing expression crossed the man’s face. “What if Walt were still alive? What if he had seen Disney World completed? What if he were still running the Disney Empire? What if you could sit down and chat with him?”

The words he had just spoken were words that Hawk had heard recently. Hawk knew that for certain. Not wanting to acknowledge he was trying to connect the words, the man, and the moment, he nudged Kiran to give them room to move slightly away.

“However,” the stranger continued, taking back the space the pair had just created, “you just couldn’t stop with those questions. You didn’t just gaze like other people at Walt’s office and wonder what it would be like to sit in there with Walt. You decided to go in and have a look around. You broke in and made yourself at home in Walt’s office. Didn’t you, Dr. Hawkes?”

Instantly Hawk remembered. His name was Jim; he had spoken to Hawk at One Man’s Dream at the Studios as Hawk had been looking through the window into Walt Disney’s office. The conversation and the look on the man’s face now reconnected. He had been nervous and trying not to look too suspicious when Jim engaged him in what he had thought was just a cast member interaction. But Jim knew who he was and on some level why he had been there. Apparently he also knew that Hawk had broken into the display at the attraction.

“You remember me now, Hawkes?”

“Jim, if that’s your name,” Hawk answered. “Why are you here?”

“What I want is simple.” A smile now creased Jim’s face. It was not a pleasant look. “I want you to give me what you found in Walt’s office.”

“I didn’t find anything in Walt’s office.” He wasn’t being untruthful; the search in the office had produced nothing, since he had been looking in the wrong place.

“Come now,” Jim growled. “Let’s not play games. Give it to me and I’ll be on my way.”

Pal Mickey had been found in Walt’s desk. But not the desk that sat in the office display. Perhaps Jim did not know that and was not sure what Hawk had found.

Jim pressed in closer. He grabbed the front of Hawk’s shirt with one hand. His other hand moved down toward Hawk’s hip where Pal Mickey was attached. Apparently he did know about the treasure Hawk had found.

When Jim’s hand reached the high-tech mouse, the preacher drove his forearm across the chest of the other man and with legs churning shoved him backward. Hawk’s move was not intended to be a punch; instead he intended to force Jim away from Kiran and put him onto the ground. The initial move caused Jim to lose balance and rock back on his heels. This was the momentum Hawk had been hoping for. Like a running back driving across the line of scrimmage toward a first down, Hawk’s knees moved up and down like pistons. Jim still held onto Hawk’s shirt, which stabilized him momentarily before he finally yielded and lost his balance. Falling backward off the porch and collapsing onto the asphalt ground, Jim fell with Hawk forcefully following him. Jim hit the pavement. Hawk intensified the impact by allowing his forearm, still planted across Jim’s chest, to become a battering ram. An audible expulsion of air from the fallen man’s lungs left him stunned and unable to move. Something clattered to the ground in the darkness as the men tumbled.

“Run, Kiran!” Hawk rose up and crouched over the downed man.

Kiran leapt off the porch, momentarily paused, stooped looking for something, and then ran toward the Liberty Square Riverboat. Taking a right turn upon reaching it she ran past the Haunted Mansion and toward Fantasyland.

Standing up and seeing where Kiran had gone, Hawk moved to follow. His first step was cut abruptly short as Jim grabbed him on the ankle and pulled sharply on his leg. This time it was Hawk falling toward the unforgiving ground. It rose up to greet him. Stumbling in a vain attempt to keep his balance he only increased his speed as he floundered out of control onto the ground. A paralyzing bolt of pain traveled through his body, reminding him of his tumble in the theme park only a day ago. He felt his body bounce and then finally stop in an aching heap on the path between Frontierland and Fantasyland. He looked in the direction Kiran had taken; he could no longer see her. Hopefully she was now safely hidden. Rolling over to get back to his feet, he was assisted by Jim, now looming above him. Hawk’s legs scrambled, trying to find the footing he needed. Between Jim’s tugging him upward and his finally finding footing, Hawk was able to jump back to his feet.

Twisting his head, Hawk saw Jim draw back his hand to swing. The punch was a wild roundhouse of a blow that the preacher ducked easily beneath. Jim flew off balance as the blow became nothing but a gust of wind swirling over the intended target’s head. Hawk knew instinctively that Jim was not proficient in pugilism since his first attempt was a typical playground punch that rarely worked. Uncoiling from his crouched position Hawk tightened his fist and threw an arrow-straight jab targeting the chin of his adversary. Although he had not been in many fights during his adulthood he remembered enough to know that experienced fighters could strike with power and clout without wasted motion. His fist found Jim’s face with a thick thump, snapping his head back. The combination of the punch and the wildly off balanced roundhouse a heartbeat before sent Jim thundering back toward the ground once again. Landing with a crunch on his side, he moaned in agony, moving his hands to his jaw.

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