Escape to Witch Mountain (5 page)

As Tia raced after the cat, Tony found his wits and cried, “Hurry—catch him!” as he dodged the policeman and ran.

Long minutes later, after reaching another side street through an alley, they came to a bus stop on the avenue. They were safe for the moment, and Winkie was miraculously back in the bag, where he had returned without urging.

No bus was in sight. Rather than risk waiting, Tony hailed the first taxi, and they scrambled inside. Now he looked grimly at Tia's shopping bag.

“Didn't I tell you we
can't
take a cat?” he reminded her. “For Pete's sake, use your head!”

Her chin went up. “Winkie goes where I go.”

“This is crazy! A cat isn't like a dog. You can't make him obey. Honestly—”

“He helped us get away, didn't he?”

“That was just an accident. We couldn't possibly carry him on a bus. He'll never—”

“Winkie will do exactly as I tell him,” Tia insisted. “He's not an ordinary cat, any more than we are ordinary people.”

If she hadn't reminded him how different they were, he would have argued further. But the sudden thought of their many differences held him silent. It was a little frightening to realize their strangeness, and to know that it was probably the cause of all their troubles.

On upper Water Street, before the clicking taxi meter had devoured more than half the five dollars in Tony's pocket, they got out and caught a southbound bus. No one would have suspected Winkie was with them. During the long ride he lay curled in Tia's bag, apparently asleep.

It was well after midnight when they left the bus and hurried across the street to their destination.

St. Paul's Mission was in an old store building near the docks, with a reeking beer parlor on one side, and a pawnshop on the other. It was an unpleasant neighborhood to be caught in at this hour, and Tony was a little jolted to discover that the curtained windows of the mission were dark. He tried the door, and found it locked.

Tia whispered suddenly, “There's a police car coming. If they see us standing here, they—they're sure to stop and ask us questions.”

Tony jerked about, his lips compressed. It was a prowl car, all right, and it was moving slowly toward them.

T
here was only one thing to do, and Tia did it on the instant. She grasped the doorknob and turned it with a determined jerk. There was an audible click as the bolt shot back, and the door swung open. She darted inside. Tony followed quickly, then eased the door shut and locked it.

Carefully, through the edge of the glass panel, he watched the prowl car approach close. It stopped directly in front of them. Tony chilled. Had they been seen entering the mission?

For a moment, hiding there behind the door, he had the curious feeling of being caught on a strange planet, where nothing made sense, and everything was a little insane. It was a feeling he had often had before, but never so strongly as now, when the next minute might mean their discovery and possible capture. All at once he realized how much he hated the city; he hated it more than anything on earth, but had never been able to admit it before.

Slowly, the prowl car moved on. Tony expelled a long breath, and turned to study the place they were in.

In the dim light that came through the windows he made out rows of old wooden chairs facing a small rostrum. The room was hot and airless, and smelled of the dirty clothing of the derelicts who wandered in here every night.

A faint hum caught his attention. It was an electric fan. With Tia following, he moved through the gloom to the side of the rostrum,
and stopped before a door in the back wall. From under the door came a faint gleam of light.

“Father O'Day!” Tony called. “Are you there?”

There was a grunt, then the scrape of a chair across the floor. Abruptly lights flooded the mission, and the door in front of them was opened.

A big, powerfully built man, collarless and in his shirt sleeves, stood peering down at them in surprise. He was youngish, broad of shoulder, rugged and battered of feature, and wore his wiry black hair in a crew cut—all of which made him look much more like a professional athlete than a priest.

“Is this a visit or a visitation?” he rumbled in a deep bass voice. “In other words, was the street door left unlocked—or did you just materialize from nowhere?”

“The—the door was locked,” Tony admitted hesitantly. “But it opened for Tia. I'm sorry to have to bother you so late, Father. Only, we ran away from Hackett House, and we need your help.”

The big man blinked at them. “You ran away from Hackett House—and Tia opened the door. Just like that.” Suddenly he smiled. “Of course I'll help you! Tell me, can Tia always open locked doors?”

“She doesn't exactly open them, sir. They seem to open for her. If it's right, I mean.”

Bushy eyebrows went up. “Honest? You wouldn't kid a fellow?”

“It's the truth, Father. But we'd rather you didn't tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone such a tale? And who would believe me?” The rugged face became dreamy for a moment. “Ah, but what a gift! I wish I had it. The things I could do for people…” Then he shook his head. “No, it wouldn't work. If I had such a gift, the devil would be tempting me sure—and confusing me—every minute of the day. He's hard enough to fight now.”

Tia asked a question, and Tony said for her, “Tia can't talk, Father, but she wants to know if you really believe in the devil.”

“Of course I believe in the devil!” the deep voice said. “Look about you. It took the devil himself to build this part of the city. But don't think of him as a personage. Look upon him as a disease. A sneaky, foul, and dreadful sort of thing. Gets into people's hearts and minds, makes 'em—”

The priest was interrupted by Winkie, who chose this moment to leap from Tia's bag. “Hey there!” he gasped, and immediately scooped Winkie up in his huge hands. “A black cat! Ha! Am I being visited by witches? Don't tell me you brought this fellow all the way from Hackett House in a bag!”

At Tia's nod he stared at the two of them. “Forgive me for ranting about my sworn enemy. He'll just have to keep a bit. You've got problems. Come in here where it's cooler, and let's talk things over.”

He turned out the overhead light, and closed the door behind them as they entered the room where the electric fan was going. The place was furnished merely with a cot, some folding chairs, and a desk. Behind a partition, Tony glimpsed a gas stove and a few dishes on a table. Everything was spotlessly clean, and the only luxury was the fan.

Father O'Day shook open some folding chairs for them, then sat down at the desk with the purring Winkie on his lap.

“Let's have it,” he began. “You ran away from Hackett House. Why?”

“To—to find our people, and to get away from a man who claims he's our uncle, but who isn't.” Tony started with Sister Amelia, then explained at some length about Mr. Deranian. Father O'Day interrupted constantly with surprised questions.

“This beats all,” the big priest said at last. “Are you sure,
absolutely
sure
, that this man Deranian is the one who left you with Mrs. Malone?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, I'm sure about Tia's memory.”

“How about yours? I 'd say you were at least a year older than Tia. Can you remember anything yourself ?”

“A—a little. Tonight I can remember being brought to Granny's place by a man in a car, after being on a ship. But that's all. It wouldn't have come back to me if Tia hadn't remembered it first.”

“What about faces?”

Tony shook his head. “I can't remember a face that far back, when I was so small. Tia can, even though she's younger. She doesn't forget.”

“She's forgotten what happened before you were taken from the ship.”

“Yes, but she thinks something must have given her a bad shock, so that she doesn't want to remember. Just trying to think about it makes her feel sick.”

Father O'Day nodded and looked at Tia. “Probably something did happen; that may be why you can't talk. Now, this man Deranian—”

Tia spoke quickly to Tony, and Tony said, “She's thought of something else. Mr. Deranian was
not
on the ship with us. The captain, or someone in uniform, sent for him after the ship was tied up at the dock, and he came and took us away.”

The big man scowled; it made his battered face seem quite ferocious. “Then it looks as if the rascal was paid to take you away. That must be it. There was trouble aboard, and the ship's captain paid him to get rid of you.”

“But why would he come back years later and pretend to be our uncle?”

“Well, let's use logic on it. He pretends to be your uncle because he's learned something about you that makes you valuable to him. It's something he didn't know at first.”

“He
does
know something,” said Tony. “I could tell that when I tried to explain how perfect Tia's memory is. He pretended he didn't believe it, but it gave him a jolt. I—I had the funny sort of feeling that he would have believed almost anything about us—and he's not the kind you can play tricks on.”

“Then there's no question that he knows something, and that as your uncle he can profit by it. He seems anxious to get you abroad. Obviously, once he gets you out of the country, no one can question him and he can do what he wants with you. Hmm. What does the fellow look like?”

Tony could not help smiling. “He—he sort of reminds me of your sworn enemy, but without the horns and whiskers.”

“You don't mean it!” The priest crossed himself.

“Well, he really does, except that he's clean-shaven. He's pretty sharp-looking—dresses all in brown and spends a lot on his clothes. Why would we be valuable to a man like that?”

“I can think of several reasons.” Father O'Day gave another ferocious scowl. He was absently stroking Winkie with one big hand. “Mainly I'd say it has something to do with the fact that you can do things other people can't. I'm presuming that you both have gifts. Only, how could the fellow have learned about you?”

“I don't know,” said Tony. “We've never told anyone about ourselves. We—we've always tried to hide things.”

“But you must have confided in someone.”

Tia shook her head, and Tony said, “Not even Granny. She wanted me to explain to her once how I always knew the time. I tried, but somehow she couldn't understand, and it upset her. Then
one evening she caught us making the broom dance…I'll never forget what an awful fright it gave her. I had to lie to her and tell her it was just a trick, and that we were using black threads.” He spread his hands. “So you see, we learned pretty early to be careful. If you're too different, people think you're a kook, or even worse.”

Father O'Day nodded. “I understand—but
I
don't think there's anything kooky in this. I'd like to know all about what you can do—if you don't mind telling me. Let's start with how you and Tia communicate. It's got me baffled. And what about this time business?”

Tony explained. The big man whistled softly. “What a pair you are! I'd like to know more—you see, I'm terrifically interested in these matters. I believe that people like you and Tia are far ahead of your time. You belong to the future.” He paused, and added hopefully, “You mentioned a broom…”

“Wouldn't you rather see our dolls dance? They're not as scary.”

“You have dolls that dance? Bless me, by all means!”

Tony smiled. As he reached for his harmonica he wished he had become acquainted with Father O'Day long ago.

The priest sat in wordless delight while magic entered the room and the dolls used his desk for a stage.

“Wonderful!” he whispered finally. “Puppets without strings! After seeing them, I'll skip the broom.” He crossed himself. “You know, a whirling broom
would
be rather scary.”

“That's why we concentrated on the dolls. When you have to hide it from people, it's safer.”

“I can understand that,” said Father O'Day. “But I don't understand how you do it. It's a form of telekinesis—do you know what that is?”

Tony nodded. “It's the ability to move things without touching them. Tia has read everything she can find about it. We can both
make the dolls dance—but it's much easier when we do it together, and more fun. And of course the music has a lot to do with it.”

“Really? In what way?”

“It, well, it sort of amplifies things. I mean, when I play the harmonica, I can move all kinds of heavy objects.”

“What a handyman you'd make!” Father O'Day said dreamily. “And do you realize what a problem you've suddenly become?”

Tony sighed. “I imagine it would almost be your duty to send us back to Hackett House. We've sort of put you in a spot, haven't we?”

The priest gave a deep chuckle. “Possibly—but I've been in spots before. The main thing is to keep Deranian from finding you till we figure out some moves. First, to help our planning, let's have some tea and a bite to eat.”

They followed him behind the partition, and Tia helped make sandwiches while they waited for the kettle to boil. Presently, with Winkie lapping a saucer of milk in the corner, they sat at the table to eat.

“Food helps make up for sleep,” said Father O'Day. “Anyway, I hope you're not too tired, for I think we'd better work out something if it takes till dawn.”