No Place Like Oz: A Dorothy Must Die Prequel Novella(13)

“It was only two years ago!”

“Two years?” Cos frowned. “No . . . it seems to me that it was much longer than that. Perhaps your calendar in the outside world is different from ours.” He fixed me with a serious look. “Dorothy, much time has passed since the days of the witches.”

Uncle Henry cleared his throat. “Dorothy,” he said. “This is all very interesting, but we need to be getting home. Mr. Munchkin, can you advise us on the best way back to Kansas?”

Cos looked at my uncle and blinked. “Where’s that?”

I didn’t have time to worry about Uncle Henry’s grumbling. Between Glinda’s plea for help and the news that the Scarecrow was no longer the king, it was becoming more and more clear that Oz had changed since I’d been gone. And I had an uneasy feeling that it wasn’t for the better.

If I was going to put it right, I had to find my old friend.

“Never mind Kansas, Cos. It’s very important that we see the Scarecrow right away. Does he still live in the Emerald City?”

“Oh no,” Cos said. “He lives quite near here, as a matter-of-fact, in a mansion made of corncobs just off the Road of Yellow Brick. It’s less than a day’s walk.” He pointed into the distance. “You’ll find the road that way. Just be wary—the trees are restless today.”

“The trees?” I heard Aunt Em whisper to Uncle Henry.

“Thank you, Munchkins,” I announced. “Next time I see you, I hope I’ll be able to feast with you.” Then, confident in my path but nervous about what other surprises Oz had in store for me, I gave my most dignified good-bye wave.

As the people of Munchkin Country began to cheer my name, I knew that no matter what Oz had in store for me this time, one thing was clear:

I was home.





Seven

“Couldn’t we have at least stayed for the banquet?” Aunt Em asked as we made our way from the Munchkin village, toward where Cos had told us the Road of Yellow Brick began. “I’m getting a touch hungry.”

“I’m not sure I’d want to see the food those strange little folks serve,” Uncle Henry said, raising his eyebrow skeptically. “Back in the war, they forced us to eat monkey brains and lizard tongues for breakfast, you know, and I didn’t care for that one bit.”

Uncle Henry was always talking about his days in the war, but sometimes it seemed hard to believe that he’d ever left Kansas at all. Some of his stories seemed much more bizarre than anything Oz could dream up.

Then again there had never been a Gale who was a liar, so who was I to doubt him?

“Henry Gale,” Aunt Em admonished him. “They did no such thing. Anyway, I’m sure the food here is just fine.”

“They could serve me Lobster Newburg and Baked Alaska and it would still be time to get on home,” he replied.

“Oh, don’t you see?” I exclaimed, trying to make him understand. “Don’t you see? We’re in Oz now! You don’t need to worry about the cows, or the crops, or the pigs, or anything like that anymore. Life here is so much better—can’t you see already how beautiful it is? In Oz, you won’t need to wake up at dawn to milk the cows ever again!”

Aunt Em touched my shoulder gently, calming me down. I hadn’t even realized how worked up I’d gotten. “Now, Dorothy,” she said. “It is lovely here. And we’re so proud of your statue and all we’ve learned about you today. But your uncle is right. We can’t stay here. This is no place for us.”

“Anyway, I like milking the cows,” Uncle Henry said.

I stopped dead in my tracks, right there on the yellow bricks. For all of Henry’s griping and Aunt Em’s nervousness, it had never occurred to me that they would still want to go home once they got a taste of Oz. How could anyone want to go back to a dry, dusty field and a few irritable pigs when there were fantastic things around every corner here?

“Of course we’re going to stay,” I said. “Why in the world would we go home?”

My uncle looked downright aghast. “Because it’s our home and that’s where we all belong,” Uncle Henry said. “I’m glad the people love you here, but that doesn’t change who you are, missy.”

“Don’t lose your temper, Henry,” Aunt Em cautioned him. “But I do have sewing circle next week, and the house is still a mess from your party, Dorothy. If we don’t go home soon, I’ll never have time to clean up all the dishes.”


Suddenly I wanted to scream. They had to be joking. I had wished so hard to have a second chance here, never expecting it would actually happen. And now it had happened, and we were walking happily through Munchkin Country on a day more beautiful than Kansas had ever seen or would ever see. They wanted to give it all up so that Aunt Em could go do the dishes for her sewing circle?

At least I had one foolproof ace up my sleeve. I didn’t even have to lie. Well, not exactly.

“I don’t know how to get home,” I said irritably, fighting back anger. “I don’t even know how we got here in the first place! The only one who can send us back to Kansas is Glinda, and she needs our help. Once we find her, we can all talk it over.”

As I spoke, I felt my shoes pulsing against my feet with a warm, tingling feeling, as if I’d just dipped them in a whirlpool of warm water. So maybe it was a tiny lie after all—the shoes had brought us here, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they could bring us home, too. But Uncle Henry and Aunt Em didn’t need to know that.