The Key To the Kingdom (4 page)

“If you will take this and do the same thing Walt did when he left this place, your imagination . . . your ability to understand a story . . . and how you touch the world . . . even your life will never be the same. And the stories you communicate will become timeless.”

Almost reverently Rales handed the package to Hawk. The cloth was soft and aged. Hawk took it, studied it, and began to unwrap it. Once, twice, three times, and then the fourth layer of cloth revealed what was nestled inside. Taking it between his index finger and thumb, he lifted it out of the soft material and held it up in front of him.

“It’s a key.” Hawk inspected the key held between his fingertips. It was a skeleton key. Golden, heavy, and catching light given off by the lantern, it was obvious that this key was old but had been respectfully cared for. As Hawk looked toward Rales he saw him beaming with pride.

“Not just any key, my friend. It is a very special key. There is not another one in the entire world that does what this one will do. You are holding in your hand the key to the kingdom.”

The importance of the key to Rales was obvious and therefore the importance of the key to Hawk was never in doubt. Rales’s eyes brimmed with tears in the dim light and Hawk was touched by the old man’s sincerity and the love, respect, and trust that this heirloom represented.

“Thank you, Farren. I will treasure it always.”

“Don’t just treasure it, Hawk.” Rales clutched his hand. “Use it.”

Rales let loose of the preacher’s hand and turned to pick up the lantern. He flicked the switch. The light was extinguished and both men were plunged into darkness.

Blinking away the residue of where the light had been, Hawk heard footsteps on the rock walkway. Finally after a dozen rapid blinks his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Rales was no longer there.

“Farren?” Hawk whispered.

Hearing nothing, he knew Farren’s exit had been planned and he had no intention of answering the preacher’s calls. Hawk carefully placed the skeleton key back into its swaddling wrap and slid it into his pocket. Angling back toward the Seven Dwarfs’ cottage, he knew he was going to have to retrace his steps through the darkness toward the parking lot. He wondered how Farren had gotten to this place. He hadn’t seen another car in the lot and hadn’t seen any other entrance into Gamble Place. However, Hawk was going to have enough trouble navigating the darkness back to his car without worrying how Rales had gotten in or out of this place. Rounding the corner of the cottage, he stumbled over a raised stone on the rock-covered walk and quickly corrected his misstep.

A voice from the darkness spoke loudly with authority.

“Hold it right there!”

He heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

Hawk turned on his heel and exploded into a full run in the direction from which he had just come. Again the voice cried out behind him.

“I said stop!”

Hawk had no intention of stopping. The sound of footsteps followed him on the rocky path. When he arrived back at the well he had expended his knowledge of the layout of the property. Trusting that the owner of the voice was still chasing him, he decided he would simply loop around the house. Any lead he had could be quickly lost; Hawk cut to his left and raced along the back side of the cottage. The footsteps that pursued him were still trailing and he had no idea how far behind they were. Rounding the house he glanced back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of any motion behind him. His momentum came to an abrupt halt as he thundered into a large obstruction on his path. The sudden impact drove him backward and sent him sprawling on the ground.

Grogginess began to cloud his brain but his survival instincts forced him back on his wobbly legs as he compelled his body to keep moving. Hands in front of him, he felt rough bark. He’d hurtled headlong into a thick tree set off to the side of the cottage. His pursuer’s footsteps gained ground. Stumbling around the tree, he found an opening cut into it. He reached his arm into the darkness and found nothing but empty space. This tree had to be the Witch’s Hut that Nippert had built in his enchanted playground. Unable to gather his wits to surge beyond this point, Hawk plunged forward into the void of the hut. He gasped for breath and then held it so he would make no sound in the blackness. The footsteps raced past the opening of the hut. He listened as they headed in the direction of the cracker house near the parking lot.

Hawk’s mind began to emerge from the crash-induced fog and he knew that his pursuer could simply wait for him to return to his car. Deciding that whoever was chasing him had not had time to get to the parking lot yet, Hawk commanded his legs to again start churning. He struggled to keep his bearings as he navigated the darkness and purposely tried to make as much noise as possible as he ran out of the Witch’s Hut. He hoped he was heading through the trees toward Spruce Creek. It only took a moment and he again heard the pursuit turn back toward his direction. Stumbling across the leafy carpet covering the ground, he blindly reached down, grabbing sticks and branches
as he ran. Believing his pursuer could not see him and was chasing as blindly as he was running, he held onto the heaviest of the branches he’d picked up off the ground. A few seconds later Hawk threw the branch sideways in the direction of the water. After a moment of silence he heard the sound he was hoping for. The branch splashed along the shoreline of the creek. At the same moment he heard the pursuer angle away from him toward the edge of the water. Knowing he only had a moment to use to his advantage, he changed direction at the same time and headed toward what he hoped was the parking lot. The footsteps of his pursuer slowed and then stopped. This was the moment he had been banking on. The chaser in the dark was trying to decide which sound to follow.

Indecisiveness ended and the footsteps again headed in the direction Hawk was running. It was then that Hawk’s eyes began to see the shape of his car emerging into clarity out of the inkiness of the night. In one motion his car key was out and Hawk pressed a button on the key ring to unlock the car.

The horn blared and the lights flashed. His pulse rocketed and his heart was trying to hammer out of his chest. He’d inadvertently hit the alarm button instead.

Gulping air, Hawk pressed the correct button. The horn silenced and the lights fell dark as he pulled open the door. He crashed in the seat and inserted the key into the ignition. The lights of the car destroyed the darkness anew and Hawk saw his pursuer about to reach the car. He shoved the car into gear and glanced into the rearview mirror. Sand flew and his pursuer disappeared in the billowing cloud created by his exit.

Hawk exhaled loudly and felt his heart still thundering in his chest. He veered to the left and bounced back down the pathway toward Taylor Road. As he reached the end of the dirt trail headlights appeared directly in front of him, blinding him. Not slowing, he shifted the wheel to the right and then back left, sliding past the car and turning onto the main road. He punched the accelerator and the tires churned over the asphalt as he looked in the rearview mirror. He saw nothing but darkness and he put distance between himself and Gamble Place as fast as possible.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Day Two Morning

E
VERY MUSCLE IN
D
R.
G
RAYSON
HAWKES
’
S BODY
ached the next morning as he trudged into his office at Celebration Community Church. The town of Celebration, a creation of the Disney Corporation, meshed Disney philosophies with small-town stereotypes. Young families with strong values desired the stability of being part of a church congregation featuring relevant non-traditional styles of worship and church structures. The Florida Baptist Convention had targeted this area to plant a new church congregation. That is when Grayson Hawkes, a native of central Florida, entered the picture. He accepted the call to become the pastor and immediately assembled a church staff around him that loved Jesus and Walt Disney World.

The office was free of activity as Hawk was not a stickler for keeping regimented office hours. The emptiness of the office allowed him to think back to the events of the night before. Setting down his briefcase he slumped into his office chair and allowed it to spin aimlessly under the shifting weight. The bookcases bowed under the pages of the extensive library Hawk had accumulated through the years. His debit card confirmed his addiction to visiting booksellers. Books and coffee were the two vices that Hawk readily admitted to having to anyone who would ask.

Some would conclude that Hawk was in denial about his other addiction. Simply stated, he was a Disney fan. His office was stuffed with books, collectibles, animated characters, souvenirs, and trinkets that held deep and unspoken personal meaning for Hawk. Disney purists would call the collection Disneyana. His fondness and appreciation for Disney had given Hawk an instant bond with Rales. Their meeting the night before had unexpectedly left Hawk tired, aching, and with a brain load of questions.

Hawk wondered where Farren had disappeared to in the dark. He wondered who had chased him at the Dwarf House. Thinking restlessly about it through the night, he’d assumed it must have been a security guard at the state park. However, that did not explain the car waiting at the end of the driveway to the main road. As he pondered the blinding headlamps, he created various scenarios that would explain the car’s presence: teenagers parking, some type of illegal mischief, someone resting after a long drive, or the gnawing sense that his pursuer had walked in from the parked car and the driver was waiting for him to return. This last thought bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Not normally paranoid, Hawk found himself still on edge at fleeing the park so wildly. And last, but most pressing, he was still trying to figure out the real meaning behind the skeleton key that Rales had given him.

Taking the key out of his pocket, he carefully unraveled the wrapping. Hawk felt the weight of the hunk of molded metal in his palm. Squeezing it between his fingertips, he held it up and spun it around. The key, though old, was incredibly well preserved. Rales had told him, “Don’t just treasure it . . . use it!”

“I would use it,” Hawk thought, “if I only knew how and where.”

The phone rang, clanging him back to the moment. Picking it up, Hawk heard the familiar voice of the church student minister, Albert Shepherd.

“Hey, boss,” Shep began, “how are you?”

“I’m good, and you?” Hawk replied. He wasn’t feeling all that well, but there would be too much to explain if he hinted he was feeling tired or sore. As Shep covered what he wanted to discuss, Hawk noticed his associate pastor, Juliette Keaton, standing in the doorway with her head tilted. Hawk motioned for her to enter and take a seat. Juliette entered and sat down, staring intently at him as he continued to talk. Her stare became distracting and Hawk lost track of what Shep was saying and had to ask him to repeat himself. They quickly finished their conversation.

He hung up the phone and turned to Juliette. “Are you staring?”

“Yes,” she replied. Hawk waited, knowing she would tell him what was on her mind. “You look awful. Have you been in a fight?”

Hawk had forgotten about the cut he’d collected when he smashed his face into the Witch’s Hut. “You know better than that. I wouldn’t get into a fight.”

“Oh, really, most of the things you do don’t surprise me.” Probably not, considering how well he knew her husband and two children. “Are you hurt badly?”

“No, not too bad, just had a bit of an accident.”

“Sure you did.” She inspected him curiously. “Can I help?”

“No, but thanks.” Hawk didn’t need help and he didn’t want anyone to know that he had run into a tree in the middle of a state park, after the park had closed, chased by an unknown armed pursuer.

Juliette sighed, apparently admitting defeat. She got up, patted him on the shoulder, and left with a smile. She bumped into Jonathan Carlson, the church worship pastor, coming through the door as she was exiting. As Jonathan saw Hawk’s face, his jaw dropped open.