After a quick estimation regarding the tonnage of said elephant, both men decided the best course of action was to let him be.
Across the park, sections of light flared out as Dumbo joyfully poked and prodded the controls. Colette could hear shrieks of fear and saw people stampeding out of the dark.
“Dumbo, I think that’s enough,” she said, nudging the elephant. Nuzzling her with affection, Dumbo cheerfully ignored her.
The lights in front of Milly and Joe flickered and popped off, throwing their path into darkness. The kids glanced up at the tower, where the silhouette of two large ears could be seen.
“They’re there; they made it!” Joe cried happily.
The kids dashed down a shortcut to the training tent, but their dad wasn’t there as they had planned earlier. The mice inside the miniature circus squeaked in alarm, so Joe hurried over to take them out, carefully tucking them in his pockets.
“Don’t worry, Dad’ll be here soon,” Milly said, seeing the concern on Joe’s face.
“I am counting on it.” Skellig loomed in the doorway, a nightstick in his hand.
“Come on!” Milly yelled, tugging Joe behind her. The kids darted through a back entrance and into the mayhem of Dreamland.
They’d have to find their dad before Skellig did.
Pandemonium, crushed crowds, terrified audiences, lights flickering out all over his visionary park. A pit of anger stewed in Vandevere’s heart. This was the cowboy’s fault, he just knew it.
He seized two guards who were staring dumbfounded at the chaos.
“Get to the tower!” he screamed, giving them a little shove. “Why are you just standing there?”
“Electricity’s out. No elevators,” one replied.
Vandevere’s eyes narrowed into slits and his voice got dangerously low. “The last time I checked, they had invented stairs.”
Stalking past, he moved toward the tower himself, the two abashed guards quickly following.
Two hundred steps later, they reached the top catwalk. Vandevere barely paused to catch his breath, charging into the booth.
“What happened to my power?” he demanded.
Colette gave him a cheeky wave from behind Dumbo’s back.
“What power, mon cher?” she said.
“Why, you ungrateful–” Vandevere spat. He couldn’t reach her over the elephant’s bulk, but he shook his fist, his cheeks bright red in rage. “You were nothing before I made you my, er…”
Colette glared coolly at him. “I believe the word is queen.”
Pulling a feather from her costume, she held it out to Dumbo, whose eyes grew wide at the sight.
“Time to catch up with Mama. Hang on to that feather and fly!”
Dumbo wrapped his trunk around the feather and Colette swung onto his back. Vandevere and the guards had to duck as the elephant leapt out of the booth, soaring into the night sky.
Growling, Vandevere raced to the controls. The lousy engineers finally snapped out of their paralysis, shamefaced.
“Mr. Vandevere, wait!” One of the engineers started forward in alarm. “We have to reset the mains, or you could cause a surge.”
“We need lights!” Vandevere insisted.
“Right now it’s impossible,” the engineer said.
“Nothing’s impossible,” Vandevere proclaimed. Whatever Vandevere had dreamed up, he’d been able to make happen, and he wasn’t going to let an ungrateful, spiteful performer and a motley troupe get in the way of his Dreamland.
Teeth bared in determination, Vandevere slammed up the switches.
“No!” the engineers called, but it was too late.
Kerboom! Zzzzt! Beneath the tower, the transformers boomed, sending a shower of sparks in all directions. Fiery embers skittered across the wooden planks of the platforms and rained down on the fabric tents nearby.
Vandevere watched in horror as several fires sprouted to life. No, this wasn’t happening. Desperate, he stabbed at the controls.
Zzzt! The control panel itself sparked.
One of the guards rushed to the radio box and picked up the speaker, calling down to those below: “Get everyone out. Evacuate the park. And get the animals to safety.”
“No, we can stop this. We’ll save it.” Vandevere slammed more buttons. “You can’t destroy a dream!”
As the panel continued to spark, the guards hauled Vandevere away and down the stairs. From the stairwell, they could see the fire spreading. Screams filled the air, then the shrill neighs of horses let loose as well.
People flooded through the gates. Frantically, Holt scanned their faces from the back of a horse—he’d freed all of them when he found the training tent smoking. Fires hadn’t been part of the plan. He hoped nobody got hurt.
“Milly, Joe! I’m here,” he shouted. Maybe they’d hear him or see him, since he was up above the crowd a bit.
Then he spotted them. Instead of running with the pack, they were plunging toward the Colosseum. And Skellig, that brute, was chasing after them.
“No, this way! Run to me!” Holt yelled, but he knew it was no use. They were too far to hear.
As he urged his steed against the press of people swarming the gate, a building next to the Colosseum caught fire. Flames licked the massive tent—it would be next. Clearly oblivious to this, his kids and Skellig raced into the structure.
The crowd started to part. Holt kicked his horse into a gallop and burst into the Colosseum just as Skellig cornered his kids.
“It’s time you learned to follow orders,” Vandevere’s henchman growled. He snatched Milly in a rib-crushing grip.
A flush of rage ran through Holt and he unhitched his lasso, swinging it through the air. It caught on Skellig’s free arm, which was reaching for Joe.
“Get your hands off my family,” Holt growled.
With a sharp tug, Holt tightened the lasso and jerked Skellig to the ground, freeing Milly. Skellig yelped as he was dragged behind the horse. Holt looped his end of the rope around the saddle and tied it tight before swinging down and giving the horse a pat on the rump. Eager to escape the smoke seeping into the tent, the horse bolted out the door, taking a cursing Skellig with it.
Milly and Joe ran to their father, who tucked them in to his side. “Let’s get out, the whole place is gonna—”
Whoosh! At that moment, a few of the stands burst into flame. The dry benches were the perfect kindling, and the fire quickly spread around the circle, trapping them. Even the exit curtains were burning.
The temperature seemed to jump a hundred degrees, and smoke started to fill the grand space. Sweating, Holt grabbed a nearby banner and tried to beat back the closest flames. The mice dug their claws into Joe’s skin through his clothes and squeaked in fear. Milly searched for a way out, but the backstage area was consumed as well. A piece of blazing fabric crashed to the floor near them. Joe and Milly screamed, but Holt ran over, stomping on it to put it out. He hurried back to their side, clutching them tightly as they felt the temperature rise.
A quarter mile away, Colette and Dumbo landed gracefully next to the waiting truck. Colette slid off as Dumbo, trumpeting wildly, galumphed into the truck to greet his mother. The two elephants chirped happily, trunks winding over and around each other, pressing into one another’s sides. Finally, they were able to touch.
The Medici troupe burst into applause.
“We did it!” they cheered.
“Come on, to the seaport!” Rongo said, waving the performers onto the truck.
“Wait, where are the Farriers?” Colette asked.
Dumbo’s ears perked up as a familiar scream pierced through the wail of sirens and pounding footfalls of the scattering crowd. “Aaaaaaah!!!”
That was Milly. His mother seemed to recognize the girl’s voice as well.
Mrs. Jumbo ducked her head to look at her son, then trumpeted a command. Dumbo blinked solemnly in agreement. After a final tap of his trunk to her forehead, as if to reassure himself she’d be there wh
en he got back, Dumbo backed away. Whirling around, he clattered up to Colette and sucked a feather off her costume. The performers dove to the sides of the road as Dumbo galloped along.
Then the little elephant leapt into the air. Zooming over the gates, he dipped down to Nightmare Island and sucked up water, just as he’d done in the fire routine back at Medici’s circus. He shot back into the air and flapped toward the sound of Milly’s voice.
Soon he would be with his mama again.
But first, his help was needed.
Heat pressed in on the Farriers from all sides. Any minute now the central posts would crack and bring the whole burning tent down on them. They had to get out of there.
Holt wrapped the banner around his kids, positioning them in front of his body.
“Huddle tight. Cover up your faces. We’re gonna make a run right out that door.”
Trembling, Milly and Joe did as he said, drawing the banner over their heads.
“No one’s coming. We’re all we’ve got.” Holt gripped his family with his one arm, praying that this would work. At least it was better than staying there, in the center of an inferno. “Cavalry charge on one, two—”
Sploooosh! A spray of water doused the entrance curtains long enough for an elephant to come crashing inside.
“Dumbo!” Milly squealed.
He tripped as he tried to land and tumbled, rolling to a stop at their feet, his face upside down. Beaming, the elephant staggered to a standing position and shook his ears out, splattering them with water.
Holt grinned. “Howdy, partner. I do love a clown act.” The curtain wasn’t quite as blazing now, thanks to Dumbo. Holt gathered his kids and hustled them forward. “Now’s our chance. Run!”
The Farriers charged for the exit, Dumbo right beside them. As they approached the flaming fabric, Dumbo blasted it with the last reserves of the water he’d suctioned up.
Puff. His feather drifted out on the spray and was quickly caught in an updraft.
Still galloping next to the Farriers as they broke out into fresh air, Dumbo shot a look over his shoulder. Embers from the fire lit the feather and burned it to a crisp within seconds.
Holt gathered his kids in the safe open space between tents, kissing the tops of their heads. Then he scanned the area—people were still streaming out of the gates and most of the guards were guiding them out, their backs turned to the Farriers…for now. But Vandevere, stalking toward the men, spotted them.
“Get them,” Vandevere yelled.
“They’ve seen us. Dumbo, you gotta go,” Holt urged.
But Dumbo just stood there, ears drooping slightly.
“The feather.” Realization hit Milly. “He lost the feather.”
“The feather’s what makes him fly,” Joe explained as Holt looked lost.
Holt shook his head. “What? That feather doesn’t do anything. Dumbo, you don’t need the feather to fly. It’s all you!”
Dumbo shrank away as Holt tried to nudge the elephant into the sky. His trunk flopped back and forth as he shook his head.
“Oh, no, they’re coming,” Joe said, pointing to several guards who were headed their way.
Holt absently tried to wring his hands together, then wiped his lone hand on his pant leg. “How’s he ever gonna understand?”
Milly unhooked her necklace and crouched down in front of Dumbo, commanding his gaze. “Remember this?” she asked, holding up the key her mom had given her.
It was the most precious thing she owned. It was what she’d believed connected her to her mother, what made her special.
She reached back and flung it into the Colosseum.
“Milly, no!” Joe cried.
“I can unlock any door. I can do it. Me,” she said firmly. “You can, too.”
Dumbo perked up, his eyes questioning Milly and darting between her earnest face and the burning tent where she’d tossed her talisman. He straightened his shoulders and let out a short trumpet blast.
The guards were shouting at one another now as they raced toward them. Vandevere’s face was contorted in rage.
“Time to go, come on,” Holt said, lifting Joe onto Dumbo’s back. Then he scooped Milly up and dropped her next to her brother.
“Dad!” Milly said.
“What are you doing?” Joe asked.
Holt rubbed their heads one at a time. “Too much weight for all three of us. Get him to the seaport. You have to show him which way to go. I’ll meet you there.”
“That’s my elephant! Stop them!” Vandevere bellowed.
Kneeling in front of Dumbo, Holt gazed into the elephant’s eyes. He was entrusting his kids to this creature, but he had the utmost faith in him. “C’mon, Big D. I believe in you, too,” he said softly, tapping foreheads with Dumbo.
Holt stood and backed away as Dumbo flared his ears out and started thundering down the fairway, right toward the guards. Milly and Joe clung to the saddle as Dumbo pushed off the ground and swooped into the air.
“Yeeehaaaw!!” Joe cried. “We’re flying! We’re really flying!”
Wind whipped their faces as Dumbo cleared the Dreamland gates and circled through the air.
From Joe’s pockets, three little mice poked their heads out and squeaked. But they seemed excited, not scared.
Milly and Joe looked at each other, soaking in the feeling of being so high up. Their noses and cheeks were pricked with cold, but down below, the city streets and apartments of New York unfurled like a miniature playset. And trundling along the road was an armored truck carrying Mrs. Jumbo.
“Follow that truck!” Milly called.
“Eeeeugh!” Dumbo trumpeted happily. His tail spun and he dove forward, ears flapping, heart thumping wildly in delight.
On the ground, Holt breathed a sigh of relief—his kids and Dumbo were in the clear. Seeing an unattended police horse, Holt swung up on its back.
“You freak!” Vandevere spat, advancing on Holt with rage-filled eyes. “What have you done?”
“What they pay me for, mister.” Holt tipped his hat. “Put on a hell of a show.”
With a whistle, Holt steered his horse for the gate and galloped past Vandevere. The circus owner could do nothing but curse.
Dreamland crackled, fire leaping from tent to tent like an acrobat on the flying trapeze. Vandevere stared in disbelief. How had it come to this? The fire engines had arrived, along with mounted policemen, but even Vandevere, who believed in the impossible, didn’t think they’d be able to salvage anything of his park.
As reporters and policemen approached him, Vandevere spotted Medici. He stormed over to him, jabbing his finger into the shorter man’s chest.
“He stole my elephant! Arrest this man. This man right here.” Vandevere’s face was red. “We have a contract, Max Medici. I own you.” Vandevere’s voice lowered to an ominous rumble.
“Yeah.” Medici shrugged, totally unconcerned. “You own Max. And his brother, too.” Pausing, Medici clicked open his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “However, my real and legal name is Gustavo Jakub Klosinski. Which makes your contract with ‘Max Medici’ not worth the paper it’s printed on.”
Medici ripped up his copy of the contract with Vandevere, tossing fragments into the air like confetti.
Vandevere’s face drained of blood as shock set in.
Medici grinned at him. “Secret to show business, my friend: always leave a monkey in your desk.”
“This is fraud,” Vandevere railed, finally recovering himself somewhat. “I will sue you.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m no expert, but I think you have bigger problems here.” Medici nodded to the burning circus behind him.
Crack. Crack. Boom! The roller coaster’s track, weakened by fire, collapsed in a groan of metal and wood. Vandevere’s stomach churned.
“I should have put my money on you, Mr. Lucky Dust,” Remington said nearby, nodding at Medici. “Come on, I’ll get you a couple hot dogs.”
“Sounds good, J. G.” Medic
i smiled, tipped his hat at Vandevere, then walked away with the banker and his associates.
Left alone, Vandevere watched Dreamland burn. Several cops finally hustled him away from the fire, ignoring his protestations that he’d been robbed. As far as the policemen were concerned, the elephant had quit.
New York City scrolled underneath Joe, lines of streets, buildings jabbing upward, and patches of grass here and there. He couldn’t believe they were actually flying! Thick metal cables, wooden scaffolding, and buildings cluttered the sky as Dumbo and his passengers neared the docks.
“Whoa, slow down!” Milly cried. “No, speed up,” she hurriedly corrected herself.
Joe smiled at his sister’s hemming and hawing. She should just relax. Dumbo knew what he was doing.
With a whoosh, Dumbo slid between two buildings, but a new obstacle loomed in front.
“Watch where you’re headed. Bridge. Bridge. Dumbo, BRIDGE!” Milly shrieked.
“Yeah!” Joe pumped his fist as Dumbo veered up, up, up, aiming for the clouds, and zoomed over the towers of the bridge.
As he leveled out, Milly and Joe peered down at the pier and saw the tiny figures—and one not-so-tiny elephant—on it. Flushed with excitement, the kids pointed, but Dumbo needed no guidance. He’d spotted his mother as well.
“Eeeugh!” Dumbo trumpeted in answer to his mother’s call. But he wasn’t used to two passengers. As Milly’s and Joe’s weight threw him off-balance, Dumbo overcompensated, ears flaring as he came in for a landing, rump down.
Bump, bump, bump. Crunch. The young elephant bounced along the pier before digging in his feet and sliding to a stop in the gravelly dirt.
“Eeeeugh!” Mrs. Jumbo greeted him, her trunk arching high.
Dumbo wriggled as he stood up and Milly and Joe quickly slid off. Without hesitation, Dumbo galloped toward his mother, and the two nuzzled and squeaked at each other, eyes shining.
Two arms swept Milly and Joe into a hug. “Oh, thank goodness,” Colette said. “I was so scared for you.” She kissed their cheeks and pulled them in tight. Then she sat back on her heels, her face clouded by a stark realization.
Dumbo Live Action Novelization Page 17