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Escape to Witch Mountain 1995 remake Original novel by Alexander Key Screenplay by Robert M Young Novelization by Judith Kenyon (Disclaimer: Disney owns this story and everything in it. No money is being made. I wrote this to see how hard it is to write novelizations. The answer is harder than I’d expected.) Want to hear an amazing story? I grew up in the shadow of a strange mountain. I used to hike up there when I was a little girl, but got scared when I heard stories about the mountain being haunted. Some folks worshipped the old rock. They thought she was magic and had the power to change your life. But nothing much seemed to change around here, except the steady stream of pilgrims passing through town. Most of them stopped at the Witch Mountain Café, where I worked. Lonely people, searchers, outcasts. They came from everywhere, hoping the mountain could turn their lives around. For some, maybe it did. But I never dreamed it would happen to me. It was a morning like any other. Behind the counter at the Witch Mountain Café, Zoë passed a sandwich to a woman with a Mohawk. In one booth two women dressed like gypsies were muttering over their herbal tea, as a small group of druids finished their pie and left politely. Sheriff Bronson came in with his usual attitude. “Gonna be pretty lively tonight.” He said with a sarcastic smile over the counter. Zoë smiled back. “I heard someone say the mountain’s pulse is strong tonight.” “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you believe in all that stuff?” “I dunno. What do you believe in?” “Hot fudge sundaes.” Zoë grinned and went to make him one. With so many souls in the universe, do you ever wonder why certain paths cross? Is it all just an accident or is there something else going on? The mysterious connection…. The old truck squeaked and rattled its way to a halt in front of the Witch Mountain Café. The door opened and a very ragged man stepped out. He slogged up the steps and into the café. Zoë gave the sheriff his sundae and turned to the ragged man, ignoring his beat-up clothes and the way he smelled. “Hi. Can I help you?” The man got out a single quarter and pushed it across the table. Zoë’s face clouded with pity. “I can get you a cuppa coffee, and free refill… and maybe I can find an extra slice of pie somewhere.” Sheriff Bronson’s voice broke in. “No. You can’t serve him.” “Why not?” “Because he hasn’t bathed in weeks, and he’s on his way out of town. Don’t look at me like that Miss Zoë, there are health ordinances.” He looked uncomfortable being glared at by a sixteen-year-old girl and turned to the ragged man. “Say pal, we’re a small community here. Why don’t you get yourself down to Mitford? They got a shelter there.” The ragged man didn’t speak, but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. “Hey wait—I’ll make that pie to go.” Zoë favored the sheriff with another blazing glare and went to do just that. A few minutes later she came out the back door with a bag of trash, and saw the most amazing sight. A column of purple light stretched from earth to sky. Inside the light, two babies in lavender rompers were sitting on the ground. The light came from their clasped hands. Zoë fainted. ~is she ok?~ the little boy asked as their light faded. ~she’s just afraid.~ his sister replied. ~what are we doing here?~ ~waiting for someone who’s not afraid.~ The next person to see them was the ragged hermit. He stared at the two babies as if they were bug-eyed aliens and spun around in confusion as he tried to think what to do. ~hi, what’s your name?~ the little girl asked. ~oh no BABIES where’re their parents what should I do I can’t take care of babies where should I leave them who can take them somewhere safe? The sheriff no he would think I kidnapped them lock me up no good better just leave them here the nice girl will find them and take care of them.~ He picked up the girl and put her in the back of a supply truck standing nearby, and went back to get the boy. When the truck was unloaded, the babies would be found. Suddenly a neatly dressed man came out of the café and closed the back doors of the truck without looking inside. He hopped into the drivers’ seat muttering, “ok! Sixteen more stops. Boy, here we go…” His distracted babble drowned under the noise of the truck starting up. ~where’s my sister? I can’t hear her.~ The hermit picked up the boy and looked for a safe place to leave him. ~I can’t even feel her!~ The plaintive cry went unheard. Fate intervened. The sheriff burst out of the café ready to stop a kidnapping in progress. The hermit had no words to say that he had only wanted the babies to be found, together, by someone who would take them home. I tried to explain what I had seen, but nobody believed me. And they never found the other baby. Nine years later… He had been running for years and getting nowhere. Funny how life is when you surrender. It always seems to take you exactly where you need to be. The police car rolled up the long gravel driveway of the Ashton Children’s Home. The first person to get out was Sheriff Bronson, still on the job though nine years had added to his waistline and faded his hair further from blond to gray. He escorted a boy with shaggy brown hair and a face set in permanent sullen anger. Inside Ms. Phillips, the matron of her home, looked over the boy’s file and sighed in exasperation. “You have gone through a dozen foster parents! What, are you going for the Guinness book of world records?” “Danny here doesn’t know the value of a good home.” “They weren’t home.” Danny said shortly. He knew what the file said: Danny Malone, age ten, no known relatives, and comments about his habits of fighting and running away. Even shoplifting, once, but he had needed a new pair of gloves that winter and there hadn’t been the money. Sheriff Bronson was going on, “The last place you were at had two dogs, a swimmin’ pool, and you had your own room. What more do you want?” “A family.” Ms Phillips looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry Danny, but according to this file you don’t have a family.” “I know they’re out there.” “I wish we could make all your dreams come true. I don’t know if we have room around here for a troublemaker.” “Oh, Danny’s gonna be real good.” The sheriff assured her. Danny didn’t comment. After a few more formalities and some form signing, Ms. Phillips took Danny outside to show him around. “You saw our garage on your way in. We have one bus for field trips—there’s one this afternoon, you picked a good day to arrive. The lunchroom is behind those windows and this is the veranda, we read stories here in the afternoon. And here’s the yard.” She waved around an open space filled with trees and kids. “Kids, come on, gather round! This is Danny everybody, he’s going to be with us for a while. I know you’ll make him feel welcome.” A big boy with dark red hair and a roguish smile stepped to the front of the crowd. “Hi. I’m Zander. Want to see my tree house?” “It’s everyone’s tree house Zander, to share .” Ms. Phillips reminded him. “So that’s why he’s gonna be the guest of honor.” Zander and his friends showed Danny how to climb the ladder into the tree house, babbling all the way about how they’d built it. In spite of himself Danny was impressed. “Whoa, you designed this place? Awesome!” “Yeah, and you should see the submarine I’m working on.” Everybody laughed then Zander said, “You know, there’s something we like to do with new kids around here.” Danny scented danger. “Oh yeah?” “Close your eyes.” “Why should I?” “…yeah, I used to be scared too.” Zander stood radiating innocence. “Ok, I’ll play your stupid game.” Danny scowled and closed his eyes. Zander grabbed his shoulders and guided him two steps, three steps—Danny’s feet went out from under him and he fell down a slide into a pile of leaves. In the tree house all the kids laughed. Zander blew a victory blast on his duck- call. Danny jumped up in a fury. “Yeah you think you’re so great! Chicken, that’s what you are! Chicken!” “Make sure you can back up what you’re saying!” Zander handed his duck-call to Ben for safekeeping. He dived down the slide with a yell. “Come on, do I have to wait all day?” Danny taunted. “Hey, squash it!” Zander yelled. Danny did his best to squash him . They tore into each other, wrestling on the ground while a chant of “Fight! Fight!” started around them. “Stop!” yelled a voice. It belonged to the most beautiful girl Danny had ever seen.

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