Hidden Mickey 5: Chasing New Frontiers Read online

  1:25pm

  The Haunted Mansion wasn’t anything that either Laura or Malaysia was expecting. When the first room they entered off the entry actually started ‘stretching,’ they knew that this was going to be good. When the narrator said, “…which offers you this chilling challenge…to find a way out! Of course there’s always my way,” followed by a loud scream, Laura grabbed Malaysia’s side in the darkness, making her jump a foot in the air.

  “Don’t do that!” Malaysia hissed at her sister.

  “What? I didn’t touch you!” Laura said. “It must have been a ghost!”

  Malaysia issued a ‘ha ha’ as the girls followed the crowd down a gloomy looking hallway full of framed pictures that magically transformed from normal looking paintings into maniacal images of the original scene; normal portraits of people in each picture would change into grotesque—if not comical—reincarnations of the same individuals depicted within the ornate frames. Through “windows” placed along the left side of the hall opposite the paintings, a lightning storm was depicted, giving the place an even more ominous feel as sudden bolts of lightning cracked behind the glass. The sound of rain was present too, making everyone forget that outside the Haunted Mansion it was a delightfully beautiful day. The girls continued to follow the other guests; the hallway turned right where they then saw strange looking “Doombuggies,” ride-vehicles that resembled giant clam-shells that were moving along some sort of track. The flat-black three-person vehicles took the girls through the not-so-scary but most entertaining mansion filled with so many intriguing effects and amusing scenes both inside the house and then ‘outside’ where a simulated outdoor graveyard played out within the ride building through an eerie atmosphere that was fashioned through the creative use of muted lighting and fog.

  After Malaysia and Laura exited the Haunted Mansion attraction, they were still talking about the many scenes depicted within the ride; both especially liking the ‘Ghost that will follow them home,’ at the end of the ride. They were amazed as they rode the escalator back up to the main Park level by a one-foot tall miniature—and very realistic-looking—woman who reminded them to “Hurry back.” They scrutinized the diminutive figure watching her talk while holding an even more miniature bundle of dead flowers in her arms. The small woman then said, “…and don’t forget to bring your ‘death certificate’ if you should decide to join us,” making the girls laugh as they passed the talking figurine.

  “I’m getting hungry, Laura,” Malaysia said as they exited the Haunted Mansion and turned right heading back towards Frontierland and Adventureland.

  “Me too,” Laura agreed, feeling her stomach rumble at her sister’s comment. “Hey Mal, you think we better call Gen and let her know we are okay here?” Laura asked as they walked around a large planter that was in front of the New Orleans’s/Frontierland train station.

  “Oh, yeah. She’s probably worried. You know how she gets when we’re not within shouting distance of her,” Malaysia said. “Why don’t you call her and I’ll get us something to eat.”

  “Sounds good. You know what I like,” Laura said, pulling out her phone and hitting the power button.

  Walking back past the train station, Malaysia bought two “Fritters” from the little ‘to-go’ window on the back side of the French Market restaurant she located after exiting the Haunted Mansion. Carrying a small container holding two plastic glasses of lemonade and two napkin-wrapped Fritters, Malaysia found Laura standing by the planter just outside the French Market.

  “These are delicious,” Laura said as she took a bite of the semi-sweet, deep-fried bread coated with powdered sugar.

  “I know,” Malaysia agreed, holding her bread in one hand and her drink in the other. “Hey what did Gen have to say?”

  “You know Gen. But, she seemed fine with us here,” Laura said. “I told her we would call her later and check in.”

  With the round, napkin-wrapped, bread in one hand, and lemonade in the other, the girls walked around the parameter of the outdoor eating area of the French Market, coming up to the side of a small stage where a trio of musicians played Dixieland Jazz, entertaining the guests on the patio. The girls stood for a while, listening and admiring the three black men: a standup bass player, a banjo player and a piano player on an upright piano, together playing a finger-snapping rendition of “Bourbon Street Parade” for an appreciative late-lunch crowd.

  “I like that music,” Malaysia commented after the trio played their last song of their afternoon set.

  Laura agreed. “Me too.” After a moment, Laura said, “Hey, let’s go grab that bench that those people just left,” Laura said, pointing her lemonade cup toward an empty bench that sat facing the Rivers of America. The imposing Mark Twain steamboat had just paddle-wheeled around the front of New Orleans Square and was heading out past Fowler’s Harbor to their left. The big steamship tooted its whistle twice and the girls looked up to the top deck where, in the small wheelhouse, a man in a black vest, white shirt, and red bowtie, could be seen waving to all the guests who had also looked up to see where the sound of the whistle had come from.

  The girls plopped down on the bench, their legs a little tired from walking around so much. The bench offered a pleasant view of the river and of people walking by.

  It wasn’t long before the saw a few canoes pass by, the sisters looking amused by seeing a ride where people seemingly had to work to make their ride go.

  Malaysia pointed to the next canoe that came around. “I’ll bet those guys are in great shape.”

  Laura, who was looking over her Park map, glanced up and watched the canoe as it swung out wide along the seawall that lined the river along the New Orleans Square area. “Yeah, I’ll bet working that ride is good for the arms. Check that guy out,” Laura said, seeing the size of the arms on the cast members in front and in the rear of the canoe. Laura went back to her map, acquainting herself with the different rides, shows and theme areas in the Park.

  Sipping her lemonade from a straw, Malaysia took in the scenery around her. The variety of people, the near perfect day of sunshine, warm temperatures and a slight breeze, the rides they had already been on, all seemed almost too surreal to her. Malaysia quickly realized the draw that southern California offered and that she had heard so much about. She leaned back on the bench, holding the straw in her mouth but not really drinking from it at the moment, absently chewing the end of it as she often did. Even among all the movement around her, Malaysia caught sight of another canoe that came around the big bend in the river. She watched as the cast member in the front of the canoe stood up and told everyone to stop paddling for a moment. Looking beyond the canoe, she saw why it stopped; two Tom Sawyer Island rafts were crisscrossing each other, motoring across from one side to the other, each filled with guests either coming from the island or being taken to, and each with a plume of water being ejected out the back of each from the engine-driven propellers.

  Malaysia felt her eyes being drawn back to the canoe as it sat unmoving in the water. She then looked at the guy in the back of the canoe who suddenly glanced up at the same moment her eyes settled on him. She wasn’t sure, but he seemed to be looking right at her. It had to be her imagination as there were literally hundreds of people around the general vicinity. That was until she set her lemonade down on the ground next to the bench and slowly pulled her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose while tilting her head down looking over the top of them. Just as she had moved her sunglasses down, the blond man in the back of the canoe, the man with extremely large arms filling the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, replicated her action, moving his sunglasses down on his nose.

  Malaysia looked a little surprised and quickly removed her glasses and put them on her lap while she watched. The blond haired man did exactly the same thing, lowering his glasses to his lap, resting his hand on the length of his paddle that was momentarily flat across his lap, since the canoe was not moving.

  Then he smiled.

 
And Malaysia surprised herself. She smiled back.

  Suddenly the front guide in the canoe instructed everyone in the canoe to start paddling again. Malaysia watched the man in back quickly put on his sunglasses and then offered a subtle salute in her direction. She raised her hand in a hesitant wave as she watched the man lift his paddle making an interesting move with the paddle, the blade spinning over his head, then he brought it down to the other side of the canoe. All done in one continuous motion, he then reached forward with the paddle; the blond man’s strong arms dug into the river, making the canoe suddenly accelerate forward, even with at least a dozen people on board.

  Malaysia watched as the man took several strong pulls with his paddle and then, glancing back at her, he nodded his head with a most pleasant looking smile, which seemed to radiate, even from a distance: “Nice to meet you.”

  Laura was looking down at her map during the little scenario that had just played out. What had taken place lasted less than a minute, but to Malaysia, it seemed longer, almost as if time suddenly slowed down.

  “What do you want to do next?” Laura asked after she folded up the map. She sucked down the last of her lemonade then licked the last remnants of powdered sugar on her fingertips from the now-finished Fritter. Laura looked over at her sister who seemed to be in a trance. “Uh, sis, I’m talking to you! Earth to Mal.”

  Speaking slowly, Malaysia said, “Let’s go on that canoe ride.”

  Davy Crockett’s Explorer Canoes: The only Disneyland attraction where the guests have to work; their paddling is the only means of locomotion of the 35-foot-long canoes as they circle Tom Sawyer Island.

  Description of the Canoe Ride at Disneyland by Disney Archivist,

  Dave Smith in his book, Disney A to Z

  CHAPTER 9

  The Touch

  Saturday, June 24th 2010

  1:57pm

  Waiting in line for the canoes, Malaysia and Laura watched as several canoes entered the loading dock, each one identified, Malaysia saw, by the different colored paint that ran along each canoe’s gunwales. Malaysia couldn’t remember the color of the canoe that she had seen the blond haired operator steering earlier, though she had not yet seen the man and his canoe come in yet. She didn’t voice her reason for wanting to ride the canoes and Laura, thankfully, didn’t question why they were even going on what had to be the lowest of low-tech rides in the Park. But for Malaysia, there was something drawing her to the ride, something drawing her to want to see the man with blond hair and beguiling smile again…and she wanted to see those traits up close.

  As the two girls approached the loading area, the cast member working the entrance to the loading dock, an attractive girl with muscular-looking arms and shoulders asked, “How many?”

  Standing in front of Laura, Malaysia was looking past the worker trying to see the next canoe coming into the dock. “Oh, sorry, just two,” Malaysia said after a little elbow in her side from her sister.

  “Okay, perfect. Join this group right here in front of you,” the woman working the dock said, pointing to the dozen or so people waiting in the next queue area.

  After passing through the turnstile, Laura, glancing back at the worker, whispered to her sister, “I think that girl could beat both you AND me in arm wrestling.”

  “Oh, you are bad,” Malaysia said, then looked at the girl’s arms and added, “Wow, I think you are right! She reminds me of that friend of yours who was one of the top swimmers at our school…Janna-something, right?”

  “Oh yeah. You’re right. Janna Smyth,” Laura said. Playfully, Laura gripped Malaysia’s upper arm and said, while softly squeezing, “Maybe this canoe ride will put some muscles on those pretty, skinny, little arms of yours.”

  Malaysia took mock offense. “What? I’m as buff as the next girl,” Malaysia said flexing her biceps in her right arm. “Well, okay, not as buff as THAT girl…”

  “Okay, you convinced me. Now put your arm down, here comes our canoe,” Laura said, pulling down her sister’s arm.

  The next canoe slid into the narrow channel that allowed the canoes to be controlled while people safely stepped down into, or up out of, each canoe. Malaysia watched as the front guide stood up and pulled on the rope attached to the front of the canoe, drawing it taut as he controlled the canoe to a stop. Not knowing why, she felt her heart skip a beat as the canoe guide she was watching from behind had blond hair and now stood not more than two feet away from her. He held the rope in one hand and slid a long, five-and-a-half foot long paddle in the space between the small front seat and the curve of the gunwale that shaped the front of the canoe.

  “Okay, folks. Hope you enjoyed the shower,” the blond man said tongue in cheek to those guests in the canoe. “I know I did.” His smile didn’t reveal any animosity toward the group even though half his shirt was splashed. “Watch your step as you de-canoe. Oh and please exit to your left,” the operator said jokingly since exiting to the right would put the guest into the river. He then added, “Please place your paddles in the dock boxes and have a great afternoon! Feel free to keep all the water you each collected as a parting gift from Disneyland.” There really wasn’t a dry person stepping out of the canoe.

  Malaysia couldn’t keep from staring at the back of the man, even though he didn’t seem to acknowledge her presence. He probably doesn’t recognize me or remember me or even care I am standing here, thought Malaysia. He probably smiles and waves to people all the time. It is part of his job. Who am I kidding? I’m just another tourist.

  Suddenly, the man with the strong arms and the nametag that read, “Blain” turned around facing Malaysia; his face now was not more than a foot from hers. Blain tilted his sun glasses down on his nose as he had done earlier when Malaysia first spotted him.

  “I was kinda hoping I would see you again,” Blain said quietly to Malaysia.

  “I…uh, I didn’t think you would recognize me…I mean…being so far away…” Malaysia said, stumbling slightly over her words. Laura, watching and hearing the exchange, tilted her head quizzically.

  “I think I’ve got pretty good eyes,” Blain said with a grin. His hazel-green eyes sparkled at Malaysia, until he slid his glasses back over them, a little to Malaysia’s disappointment.

  “I think you have very good eyes,” Malaysia said, this time with a little candor in her voice, even sounding flirty, though she wasn’t even thinking about what she was saying.

  “Why, thank you,” Blain said with a slight nod and genuine smile. He then said to her, “Hang on just a second.” He quickly turned and addressed the entire group waiting in the queue. “Howdy folks! Ready for some fun and adventure?!” The people in the queue area cheered. “Well, then you will all have to turn around, Space Mountain is back in Tomorrowland.”

  The group gave a hearty laugh. “Just kidding,” Blain said with a big smile, then he turned directly to Malaysia but still addressing the group, “You are in for a really good time.”

  Laura leaned towards Malaysia and whispered, “What the heck are you doing? Are you flirting?”

  “Shhhh,” Malaysia said, nudging her sister with her shoulder. “Just…just, be quiet.”

  Blain reached across Malaysia to where one of several dock-boxes sat, each had a mishmash of paddle handles sticking out from previous groups depositing paddles after their ride. “Excuse me, miss, just for a second,” Blain said as he moved along the wooden rail that separated Malaysia from him. She watched his tan and very muscular arm reach across, grabbing one of the smaller paddles sticking out of the dock boxes and held it up.

  “This size is for the young-uns,” Blain explained to the group holding up the short paddle. He then pointing to a young boy about eight years old in the line and said, “Like you, partner!” Blain handed the young boy the paddle who accepted it with a proud grin as if he had just been given King Arthur’s own Excalibur. Blain then grabbed a larger paddle from the box. “These four footers are for you not-so-young-uns.” Blain had moved back t
o where he had been standing in front of Malaysia and her sister and he surreptitiously handed the longer paddle directly to Malaysia. “Here you go, miss,” Blain said with a warm smile. Malaysia took the paddle, locking eyes with Blain’s as both held the paddle for just a moment. However, that moment seemed to linger. The pause was not felt by anyone but Malaysia…and maybe the attractive blonde man named Blain whose narrow waist and recklessly handsome face and eyes had now captured her attention more than once.

  Malaysia unexpectedly felt about eight years old, feeling as special as the young boy must have felt being singled out when give his own paddle by the worker. This was a strange feeling for Malaysia as she had experienced so much attention over the past six months since her singing career had taken off. But this attention was different; it was as intimate as it was public. And, it was her being guilty of pursuing the flirty encounter, not the other way around as often was the case when she was recognized or on up on stage singing.

  She watched Blain walk away from her to the front of the group and unhooked the rope that was hung across the opening in the wooden rails that formed the waiting area. Blain then led this new group of passengers to start loading from the front of the canoe. Being in the very back of the group, Malaysia was suddenly very disappointed to find that she and Laura would not be sitting in front near Blain. Reluctantly, they stepped down into the last full-sized seat in the very back, sitting side by side on the narrow wooden seat, Malaysia on the right side, Laura getting in second on the left.

  After everyone was seated, Blain took hold of the lead rope again and started to pull the canoe forward. The rear guide, a tall dark-haired man whose nametag said “Darren,” walked up to Blain and took over pulling the rope. To Malaysia’s surprise and delight, Blain walked back to the back of the slowly moving canoe and reached down for the rear rope that was dragging along the dock, grasping it before it fell into the narrow channel of water between the canoe and the dock.