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.
MISSION
There 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 fell
ow 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.”
“I couldn't sleep now if I tried,” Tony admitted.
“Good. Then let's talk about Sister Amelia.” The big man glanced at Tia. “Young lady, in spite of what the Mother Superior said, are you still convinced that Sister Amelia received a letter with a double star on it?”
Tia nodded quickly, and Tony said, “If Tia feels certain about something, you can bet it's true.”
“Very well. If you believe it, I'll believe it. Without faith we can get nowhere. But I warn you: we'll need a lot of faith to locate an unknown person in an unknown place, in a mountain area that extends for hundreds of miles through several states. Now, what have we to go on?”
At the thought of how little they had, Tony's mouth became grim again. But he said, “We almost have a name. It's not Caroway, Garroway, or Hideaway, but something in between. Hathaway, maybe. Anyway, I'm sure we can guess it. Then we have Tia's memory. If she keeps fishing back, she ought to dredge up something new. And there's her star box.”
“Don't forget the money,” Tia reminded him.
“Oh, the money!” he exclaimed. “Show it to him, Tia.”
“What money?” the priest asked.
“A wad of it she found in her box. The bottom is made of two pieces of leather, and the money was between them all these years.”
Father O'Day scowled at the worn folder Tia gave him, then opened it and stared at the money. “Ump!” he rumbled. “That's quite a bundle. I'd like to know what happened on your ship. Tia, have you any idea how long you were on board, or where the ship came from?”
Tia closed her eyes in concentration, then bit her lip. Slowly she shook her head. The priest sighed. “I'm just guessing,” he said, “but I've the feeling you were being brought over from abroad somewhere, and that the person bringing you died. Or possibly he was killed. Maybe the captain didn't know what to do with you, and was afraid of an investigation. So he turned you over to his good friend Deranian.”
Father O'Day shrugged. “But all that isn't helping us now. The main thing—” He stopped abruptly, frowning at the folder. Then he opened it and thrust the money aside. “This is part of an old road map,” he said slowly.
“Yes,” said Tony. “But I haven't had a chance to study it.”
“Well, it's worth study. It's torn from a larger map, and it shows part of the Blue Ridge area. Maybe it will tell us something.”
They bent over the map. Tony's attention was attracted by a thin penciled line following the main highway south from Washington, then branching west to the mountains. It ended in a small town on a secondary road with a circle drawn around it. Beside the circle there was smudged writing that ran to the torn edge. It looked like Kiált Cast.
Father O'Day gave a grunt. “Foreign language of some kind. Hmm. Not of the Latin group, but the first word seems almost familiar. The other, well, it may be only part of a word…” He grunted again. “But look at that route. If I were driving my own car down to—” He leaned over the map to read the name of the town marked. “Down to Stony Creek, it is, I'd angle over and take the other route. It's shorter, and you avoid all the heavy traffic and the big cities.”
“You've been there?” Tony asked hopefully.
“Not to Stony Creek. It's off the main road. But I've often taken that route to the mountains. I've a friend at a little place called Red Bank; we were on duty together in Vietnam. What I was getting at is this: I don't believe the person who marked the map was thinking of it as a car route.”
“Oh!” said Tony, in sudden comprehension. “He planned to travel by bus.”
“So it would seem. Of course, the map may mean nothing at all. Possibly it was just a convenient folder to slip the money in. But I don't think so. It's more likely that the map had a special purpose. The person who was bringing you here on a ship may have had it given to him, to show him how to reach his destination.”
“I like that better,” Tony said instantly. Excitement was suddenly rising in him. “It fits in with everything. I'll bet the man who wrote Sister Amelia lives somewhere near Stony Creek, and that we were on our way there before Mr. Deranian got us.”
“Maybe,” the priest said. “But we mustn't jump to conclusions. What we need now is time. Stony Creek will have to be investigated, and while that's being done you'll need a safe place to stay.”
He slid the money back into the folded map, gave it to Tia, and his big fingers began drumming on the table. A scowl deepened on his battered face, making it quite ferocious again.
Tony asked, “How can we investigate Stony Creek?”
“Oh, there are several ways. Police, church, or some welfare group. If I can get in touch with the right person. But our
best bet is Augie Kozak.”
“Your friend at Red Bank?”
“Right. I don't think Augie would mind—he has time on his hands. And Stony Creek can't be too far from Red Bank. He could drive over and do some sniffing around—find out if the double star emblem is known to anyone, and check through the local phone book for names on the order of Caroway and Hathaway. But in the meantime…” He began to scowl again.
“What's wrong?”
“I'm trying to think of a safe place for you to hide. I'd rather keep you here—there's space, and extra cots—but I 'm afraid it's not safe. Didn't you say you tried to phone me in the afternoon from Hackett House, and that Mrs. Grindley wouldn't let you?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Well, that fact will be remembered. Trouble is, there's no good place near that I can send you. Most of the people I know are down-and-outers and drifters, and many of the rest are on the wrong side of the law. But I've something in mind. In the morning I'll do a little phoning and see what can be arranged.”
Father O'Day stood up. “I believe we've done all we can for the moment. The next thing is to get some rest. Tony, those cots are in the storeroom yonder. If you'll give me a hand with them…”
In spite of the hour—and it was long past two by the clock Tony visualized—he did not fall asleep immediately. It had been a trying day, and the excitement of the evening was still with him. His mind raced. It touched briefly and uneasily upon Mr. Deranian and then sped on, lured by the promise of Stony Creek. He tried to visualize Stony Creek, but received nothing for his efforts but a blur of darkness broken by a single vague light; he realized he was seeing the place as it was at this moment, and that it was probably so small the streets were unlighted.
Suddenly he remembered how delighted Father O'Day had been with the dancing dolls, and his deep interest in the things Tia and he, Tony, could do. No one else had ever felt that way. Their abilities had seemed unnatural to poor Granny, and any mention of them had upset her. And Granny wasn't the only one. In years past, before they became more careful, others had been upset or even frightened.
Escape to Witch Mountain Page 4