“If I whistle like this,” Finn said, emitting a whistle that sounded a little bit like a sick bird, a little bit like a leaking balloon, “then hide until you hear it again.”
“If you whistle like that,” Maybeck said condescendingly, “you’re going to get me laughing so hard I’ll never be able to hide.”
“Your problem, not mine,” Finn said.
That silenced Maybeck for the moment, just long enough for Philby to say he’d look for a door at the back where he could stand guard. Amanda would stay basically where they were. Finn would patrol the general locker area where they’d entered.
No one had a good feeling about this. No one but Charlene, who was acting like she’d just unlocked her grandmother’s attic.
* * *
Suspended above the impossibly long rows of clothing and costumes were large hand-painted signs done in the Animal Kingdom’s African-style lettering. They divided the space into sections, a system used to organize a hundred thousand Cast Member costume pieces into something manageable.
While Maybeck cruised ANIMAL CARE and Willa PARK RANGERS, Charlene browsed the area marked PERFORMERS, searching for DeVine costumes.
The first suggestion that they might not be alone came in the form of noise: the familiar sound of hangers tinkling like dull bells. Charlene noticed it first, or was at least the first to voice her concern. She hurried to find Willa and whispered hotly, “Did you hear that? The hangers? Coming from over there?” She pointed.
“What?” Willa was busy trying to find a shirt that would fit her.
“Hangers. Like someone else is in here,” Charlene explained in a conspiratorial hush. “Don’t forget Small World.”
As DHIs, the kids had once ridden through It’s a Small World late at night only to have all the dolls come alive and attack them. It was a memory—more like a nightmare—none of them cherished. Other parts of various attractions in the Magic Kingdom had come alive as well, often threatening them, or outright causing them harm. It had instilled a reluctance in them all, a distrust of what might happen next, that had stayed with them long since, and whether they spoke of it or not, haunted them.
“You’re just buggy because it’s dark in here.”
“I’m not buggy! I heard hangers banging around over there. What’s with that? You think I should tell Finn?”
“Boys? We don’t need boys.”
Some hangers rang out quite near them. Charlene jumped back. Willa stood her ground but peered inquisitively into the room’s twilight. “It’s got to be Finn or Philby playing a joke,” she told Charlene.
“Ha-ha.”
Willa stood taller and spoke with authority. “Okay, you guys! You got us. Ally-ally-in-free.”
The ting-ting of hangers faded, like a clock running down. The girls waited for someone to jump out and surprise them, but it didn’t happen.
“Are you going to check it out?” Charlene asked, partly hiding behind Willa.
Together the girls explored the rack in front of them, pushing clothes aside. They did so cautiously, a few garments at a time. Willa grabbed a bunch of shirts and slid them to her right.
A large bat dropped from the rack, unfolded its wings, and flapped violently to gain altitude. Willa ducked. Charlene screamed and went over backward, falling to the floor.
The bat spiraled into the upper reaches of the warehouse and, because of Charlene’s scream, got the attention of everyone on the floor.
It was a big bat, an ugly bat, with a wingspan of at least two feet, but it moved through the air as fast as a cat after a toy, fluttering and flying, weaving and diving, one moment up high near the ceiling, the next dive-bombing down one of the endless aisles.
The commotion drew Finn and Amanda, running. Philby hurried from the back. But it was Maybeck who proved to be the shrewd thinker. He grabbed a butterfly net from the props section and came after the bat like a lacrosse player, swinging the billowing net with remarkable agility.
“Find the lights!” he shouted, following the bat down a row of grass skirts. “Bats don’t like light!”
Where the others might have been satisfied with scaring the bat out of the building, Amanda and Finn understood the tension in Maybeck’s voice. Finn had seen a huge bat at Amanda’s. The same bat? Not a great believer in coincidence, he, too, wanted to catch it. Clearly Maybeck also believed it was no ordinary bat.
“Philby,” Finn shouted, “the lights!” He had no idea how to turn on the lights in a building this size, but if there was a switch, Philby would find it before anyone else.
True to form, the overhead lights came on only seconds later, and the warehouse lit up like the school gymnasium. As the lights flashed on, the bat dove as if it had been shot, and there was Maybeck, lunging through the air. He swung the net. The bat swooped. The two met in a tangle of nylon mesh, high-pitched squeals. Maybeck skidded down the smooth concrete floor like a base runner diving for home plate. He twisted the net, throwing it over itself and trapping the prize inside.
The kids let out an unplanned cheer.
They had taken a prisoner.
17
MAYBECK APPROACHED the employee pedestrian entrance to the Animal Kingdom holding a pillowcase that wouldn’t stay still. The Cast Member entrance—employees only—was a revolving door of steel tines that moved only clockwise and required the employee card to open. The unattended entrance—he was grateful for that—required him to swipe the ID card the driver had provided. A red light turned green, and Maybeck pushed through the turnstile. Use of the pillowcase prevented the contents from being seen: the bat. Still, it was too close for comfort, and he was only too happy to dangle it away from his side as he cleared the entrance.
The pillowcase danced again.
“Settle down!” he said harshly, aware that he was speaking to a white pillowcase. Or more precisely, its contents: a Rousette fruit bat.
To his surprise, it quieted.
Willa, an animal lover, had identified the bat the moment Maybeck had caught it. This led to a group discussion of what to do with the thing. Charlene wanted it released and out of the building as quickly as possible. Philby suggested doing something to it that wouldn’t have been approved by the SPCA, and while Willa thought it was “cute” and that it might make an interesting pet, Maybeck and Finn came up with a solution that seemed to please everyone—except Philby, of course, since it meant keeping it alive.
“We can’t let it go,” Finn had said. “I know it’s completely ridiculous to think it might be Maleficent…” Willa groaned at the mention of this. “But what if it is? Or what if we’ve captured Maleficent’s spy? Amanda and I saw a bat at her house. What if that was this same one?”
“If it is Maleficent, don’t you think she’d turn back into herself and do something bad to us?” Willa suggested sarcastically. “I’d say this would be a good time for that.”
“Good point,” Charlene said.
“Wayne told me the heat slows the powers she uses to transform herself. It’s like her kryptonite. We don’t know what she’s capable of,” Finn said. “I just don’t see how it’s worth taking any risks.”
“It’s not,” said Maybeck. “We’ve got to lock it up…do something with it, so it can’t follow us.”
“You all know what I think we should do,” said Philby.
Everyone ignored him.
“It’ll be light out soon. Bats don’t fly around in the daylight. The main thing is: we don’t want it to find us or Maleficent.”
“Why can’t we just hide it among the other bats?” Maybeck said. “Have you even seen the bat enclosure? This thing won’t be going anywhere. And it’s not like Maleficent can walk in there and take it out.”
Finn said, “That’s brilliant!”
“Earth to Maybeck. It’s just a bat. It is not Maleficent, or she’d be in our face right now,” said Willa emphatically.
“So you’d just let it go?” Finn asked.
“Not me,” Maybeck said, speaking directly to Finn. “At the least it deserves a bat jail. I can bluff my way into the bat enclosure.”