Escape to Witch Mountain

by Alexander Key

Back in his cell, Tony climbed to the upper bunk again and peered out of the narrow barred window. Since the window faced the west, the direction they would have to take to reach the Kozak place, his only interest at the moment was to pick an escape route. But he had not counted on seeing, for the first time in his life, a vast sweep of country that spread before him like a great beautiful park.

  He gaped. Ahead were rolling pastures and mounting green hills that rose higher and higher until they merged into a shimmering curtain of blue that topped the clouds. It was a strange and marvelous world, and he wanted suddenly to get out in it and feel the grass under his feet, and smell and touch and know the wonder of it all.

  Then he remembered what he had to do, and tried to fix in his mind the easiest way over the hills. Looking closer, he realized the police station was on the edge of a hill, for below him the ground dropped away to a brushy ravine with a creek at the bottom. To get away, they would have to cross that creek and climb to what seemed to be a field of corn on the other side of the ravine.

  Finally he lay back and closed his eyes.

  It seemed he had hardly gone to sleep before someone was shaking him awake. He rolled over and saw Ben Purdy.

  “Get up, boy. It's time we had a little talk.”

  Tony chilled as a square hand closed like a vise around his wrist and he was hauled into the office. He realized unhappily that it was late in the afternoon, and that he had slept far longer than he had intended. If only he'd woken up earlier, he and Tia might be hurrying over the hills by now. For surely there must have been moments when Ben Purdy was away from the place…

  “Like I said earlier,” the short man began, “what you need is a good licking.” He took something from a desk drawer and slapped it lightly across his hand. It was a short piece of rubber tubing. “Now, son, I want an answer to them questions we asked you earlier.”

  Tony ran his tongue over dry lips. The time had come to leave, but how was he going to manage it? He glanced at the outer door. It was closed, and probably locked. But the window beside it was open and he could see the pebbles and debris in the lot outside.

  Suddenly he called to Tia, then drew his harmonica from his pocket. At the first note a pebble rose from the path and shot toward the window. He directed it poorly and it flew too high and smashed the glass. Even so, it had the desired effect of diverting the chief's attention.

  Lips compressed, Ben Purdy turned quickly to the window and looked out. Muttering, he spun about at a sound behind him, and stiffened as he saw Tia hurrying from the cell area.

  “How—how'd you get in here?” the chief said hoarsely. “So help me, get back in there where you belong!”

  Tia ignored him and ran across the room, following Tony's orders. She jerked open the outer door, then darted to the cabinet where their things were locked. Ben Purdy tried to catch her, but the ashtray rose threateningly from the desk and struck him, and he found his way barred by the broom and the raincoat, which were no longer where they had been. The broom was suddenly clothed by the raincoat, which waved its empty sleeves as if invisible arms were inside.

  In Ben Purdy's paling face anger and disbelief were swiftly giving way to panic. Abruptly he lunged to the desk and tried to pull open one of the drawers. Guessing he was after a weapon, Tony blew a shuddering darkness into the harmonica; from it poured a wildness and a wailing, a terrible beat of sound that sent the raincoated broom leaping and whirling around the desk like something possessed. It became a live thing, a thing of madness, a whirling scourge that tore about the place scattering everything before it. The short man retreated from it in horror until he was forced into a corner. He cringed there, petrified.

  Tia, with her bag and star box, ran outside. Swiftly Tony got his own things from the cabinet and started to follow. On the threshold he stopped, for Tia was not going where he had told her. She was racing for the bear cage.

  “Hey!” he called in dismay. “There isn't time!”

  “I've got to free them,” she flung at him. “No one has any right to lock up poor animals and treat them so horribly. Hold that awful man back a little longer.”

  Reluctantly, Tony sent the broom and the raincoat whirling again on their ghoulish dance.

  The gray-faced man in the corner stared at him with stricken eyes. He managed to gasp, “You—you two ain't human. Wha— what are you?” He gulped and spat hoarsely, “ Witches! That's what you are—witches! “

  Tony groaned inwardly. We've really cooked it this time, he thought. Nothing, he realized, would ever be the same for Tia and himself again. What they'd done here today would be told over and over again, for all the world to hear.

  He glanced in the direction of the bear cage, and abruptly caught up his bag and ran.

  THE BEARS

  The freeing of the bears was causing a much greater commotion than Tony had counted on. Two cars full of summer tourists had stopped at the filling station, and a half dozen people were approaching the cage as Tia reached it and began tugging at the rusty padlocks on the door.

  The attendant saw her and yelled, but Tia paid no attention to him. When the door came open, tourists scattered. Women screamed. In seconds there was a traffic jam in front of the station as drivers braked to gawk at two momentarily bewildered black bears being urged away by a thin girl with pale hair. Then awkwardly but swiftly, one on either side of her, the bears began to run for the brushy ravine at the edge of town.

  Tony waited at the far corner of the police station until Tia was safely down the slope before he pocketed his harmonica and hastened after her. Long before he reached the muddy creek at the bottom he was aware of rising excitement in the town. Men were running, calling to each other, questioning, and twice he heard Ben Purdy's voice, hoarsely trying to explain what had happened.

  He lost sight of Tia in the brush, but found her waiting uncertainly by the creek. Beyond her the bears were standing half submerged in midstream, drinking thirstily while they cooled off. Winkie sat watching on the bank.

  “Which way do we go, Tony?”

  “Follow the creek,” he told her. “A little farther on we'll have to cross it and climb to a cornfield. Get going—they may be starting after us soon!”

  He didn't think Ben Purdy would be in a great hurry to follow them; unless, of course, he got someone to help. But you never could tell. Money was everything to some people, and a portion of the reward was enough to make even the mayor overlook a few points.

  There was a faint trail bordering the creek, apparently made by fishermen. They were racing along it when he heard sounds behind them. Glancing back, he saw the two bears approaching.

  “Do we have to have those—those friends of yours with us?” he panted.

  “They won't bother you,” Tia assured him.

  “Don't be a dope! Bears are bears! Who said they won't bother us?”

  “They did, of course.”

  “Huh? Since when could you understand bear talk?”

  “It's simple enough, Tony. If you have any real feeling for animals, you know exactly how they feel, and that's practically the same as being able to talk to them. Can't you see they love us?”

  “No, I can't,” he muttered. It was all right for Tia to be that way—she could probably get along fine with a man-eating tiger. But he wasn't Tia.

  The creek widened in a stony area; Tony stopped to study it, and saw the bears wheel and splash across through the shallows. It was as if they knew this was the best way to the cornfield. Quickly he drew off his shoes and socks and followed. Tia waded behind him, carrying Winkie. The creek felt wonderfully cool to their feet. As there was still no sign of pursuit, they paused briefly at the farther bank to bathe their hot faces and gulp satisfying draughts of the muddy water. Tia commented that they probably would die of typhoid. “But it sure tastes good,” she added. “If we only had something to eat… Tony, didn't you buy some candy bars this morning?”

  “Yeah, but we'd better save 'em till later. We can't reach Koza
k's place tonight. It's too far. Anyhow, it looks as if it might rain soon. Let's get going—we've got to find a place to keep dry.”

  The bears, he saw, had vanished up a long gully leading out of the ravine. He led the way upward through the brush and they came out at a corner of the cornfield. Here the big, gaunt animals had pulled down several stalks and were happily feeding on the yellow ears.

  With an uneasy glance at them, Tony turned left and began hurrying along the edge of the field. Ahead, over the crest of the hill, he could see dark clouds that now hid the mountains and the lowering sun. Even so, the heat seemed almost worse than it had been all day.

  “Do you suppose raw corn would hurt us?” Tia said. “I'm so hungry.”

  He plucked two ears and shucked them, and they nibbled at them experimentally as they hastened over the hill. They hadn't eaten since daylight and he was surprised to discover how good the fresh kernels tasted. Before they left the field, he plucked several more ears to carry with them.

  On the other side of the hill they scrambled through a strip of woods, and suddenly found their way barred by a barbed wire fence. Directly ahead, across a pasture full of grazing cattle, was a cluster of farm buildings and a barn lot where men were at work.

  In his ignorance of the country Tony hadn't counted on such obstacles as farmyards, and pastures of cattle with uncertain dispositions to force him from his course. To reach a safe area and avoid being seen, they had to circle entirely around the farm. By this time all the sky had darkened and thunder was beginning to roll ominously overhead.

  They reached another barbed wire fence, crawled under it, and were hurrying across the narrow field beyond when the first cold drops began to fall. Abruptly lightning split the sky. Tia had been carrying Winkie, and now the little cat leaped from her grasp and streaked away in fright. Tony looked wildly around for some sign of shelter, but saw only the patch of woods ahead. He began to run.

  “This way!” Tia cried. “Follow Winkie!”

  They raced around the edge of the woods where the pasture curved. Winkie must have been able to smell a mouse haven, for tucked in the corner at the far end of the pasture was a small hay barn.

  They barely managed to reach it before the black skies opened and a fury of driving rain hid the world around them.

  It was still pouring when darkness came, but Tony did not mind. They'd eaten the rest of the corn and a candy bar apiece, and finally they'd burrowed comfortably down into the warmth of the hay, for it had turned surprisingly cold after so much heat.

  He had lost all sense of direction, and in the intense darkness he could not even see Tia a few feet away. Despite the uncertainties that lay ahead, he suddenly found it very pleasant to be here. This was so different from anything he'd ever known. No one had told him that new hay could smell as sweet as this, or that a rainy night could be so full of mystery. For a while he listened to the sounds around him: the beat of rain on the roof, the scurrying of mice, the faint rustling of Winkie's feet in the hay as he hunted; and once a vague, soft flapping in the rafters overhead that may have been an owl.

  There had been no owl in that other barn, years ago, and no comfort save in the reassurance of Uncle Bené's arms about them…

  He went rigid at the thought of Uncle Bené. “Tia!” he said urgently. “Tia—we hid in a barn like this one night, with Uncle Bené! Do—do you remember it?”

  It seemed forever before she replied. Then, in a tiny whisper: “Yes. I remember. It was a big stone barn, and we hid in it the last night… before we reached the ship.”

  “Where did we come from?”

  “I—I—please don't ask me now. But I know where we were going. We were running away, and there were men after us…men with rifles. They didn't find us till early in the morning… when we'd left the barn, and had found the little boat on the beach…”

  “What happened?”

  “They—they started shooting at us. We were in the little boat then, lying down on the bottom, and the fog was so thick they couldn't see us after a while. Then Uncle Bené paddled out to where the ships were, and found the one he was looking for…a Spanish ship…”

  “But we weren't in Spain…”

  “No, it was some other country… but the Spanish ship was the only one going to America, and he knew the captain. He paid the captain a lot of money to bring us over here…”

  “And on the way over, Uncle Bené died.”

  “Yes.” Tia's voice was so faint he could hardly hear it. “He—he was hit when the men with rifles started shooting at us, but we didn't know it till later…”

  Tony had forgotten the night and the beat of rain overhead. “We're beginning to get somewhere,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “It had to be Uncle Bené who put the money and the folder in the star box. I'll bet it was all the money he had left, and he hid it there so we'd have it later…”

  “Yes,” Tia whispered. “He—he didn't trust the captain, and he told us—”

  Tony waited, then urged, “What did he tell us?”

  “I—I don't know. Oh, Tony, don't you see? He was dying, and I'd just realized it. I was awfully little, and I couldn't talk too well, but I could understand… We'd seen some awful things… people hurt, killed… I didn't know Uncle Bené had been shot, then he told us we'd have to go on to America without him, and I saw the blood coming through his shirt.” Her voice broke. “He said to pay attention to what he had to say, because it was important but to me the only important thing was that we were losing him. It gave me the most terrible feeling, and I didn't get over it till we were taken to Granny's.”

  “Then you don't remember what it was Uncle Bené wanted us to know?”

  “Perhaps I do. I mean, I don't really forget anything, so maybe it's hidden in my head somewhere, and it'll come out when it gets ready. Please, let's talk about something pleasant.”

  He wanted to stay on the subject of Uncle Bené, for it seemed they were almost on the edge of learning the truth about themselves. But it would never do to force Tia. Reluctantly he began talking about the Kozaks. His mind, however, was on what had happened years ago, and he was still thinking of Uncle Bené when he fell asleep.

  When he awoke suddenly, hours later, the rain had stopped and he could see a star glittering through the barn's open door. And something had entered the barn, for he was aware of slow movement and a rustling in the hay. He experienced a momentary fright, then his nostrils caught the animal scent and he saw the vague dark shapes.

  “Tia,” he whispered, “your friends have found us.”

  “I know it.” She stirred and said, “They must know we're going to the mountains. I'm sure that's where they came from.”

  “We can't have them following us—especially to the Kozaks. Tell 'em to go away!”

  “They won't hurt you.”

  “That's not the idea. Don't you realize that we're still in a spot? Mr. Deranian isn't going to stop looking for us after he's come this far. He's got money to spend, and he'll be paying people all around to be on the watch for us. He doesn't know about the Kozaks—but it sure won't take him long to learn if someone reports, seeing a couple bears over there.”

  “Oh, dear, I didn't realize…How long is it till daylight?”

  “Couple hours. If these crazy bears will just stay here and sleep, I wouldn't mind starting for the Kozaks now.”

  “Let's try it.”

  They got their bags and crept from the barn.

  It was hard going at first, for the pasture ended directly behind the barn and they were forced to climb a long wooded slope in the dark. Soon they stumbled upon what seemed to be a cattle trail, and after much winding they came out suddenly upon a bare hilltop.

  Tony looked around him in amazement. It was a clear, moonless night, and from where he stood he could see—and for the first time in his life—the full sweep of the heavens. In the city he had never noticed the stars; usually they were hidden behind smog or overcast, and even on the
few clear nights the crowding buildings shut out the view. And Heron Lake had always been cloudy.

  Now he stood, incredulous, before the glittering display overhead. Tia seized his arm suddenly and pointed, and he turned and saw his first shooting star. The sight brought a curious prickling to his neck.

  He said in wonderment, “There must be spaceships out there somewhere, and other people…”

  “I'm sure of it,” said Tia. Then, “Tony, why did you tell that policeman at the bus station that our name was Castaway?”

  “I—I don't know. It just popped out. Maybe it was because I'd been trying to think of something between Caroway and Hideaway. Why?”

  It was a long time before she answered. Finally she whispered slowly, “Castaway” and her hand swept the sky. “I think we are Castaways—and that we came from out there somewhere.”

  “Now that doesn't make sense.”

  “Does everything have to make sense? People would say that we didn't make sense, just because we're not like everybody else. We had to come from somewhere—and if you can believe there are other people out there, why is it so hard to believe that we might have come from where they are?”

  “O.K. But we won't know the truth till we get to Stony Creek, and we've got to find Kozak's first. Which way is north?”

  Neither knew the North Star by sight, but Tia was able to find it by first locating the Dipper, which she had no trouble remembering from star charts she had seen. Even with his directions straightened out, Tony had only a vague idea where they were, but he reasoned they could reach the Kozak orchard by heading straight west. If they missed the orchard itself, at least they ought to come out on the road that led to it, which was north of Red Bank.

  Their progress was still painfully slow, but presently it became easier as the sky lightened. Now the black mass of the mountains ahead became clearer in outline, and suddenly the higher peaks and ridges were edged with the first crimson light of dawn. They stopped for a while, enthralled, watching the color creep slowly down the slopes as the sleepy world around them began to awake. Finally they trudged on, following cow paths and country lanes when they could, then cutting straight across the fields in order to get back on course.