No Place Like Oz: A Dorothy Must Die Prequel Novella(19)

“Oh,” the Scarecrow said, waving her question aside. “I don’t eat. The Wizard may have given me an exceptional set of brains but I’m still shy a working stomach. Now, Dorothy, tell me what brought you here. I’ve been dying to know!”

I wasn’t sure how much to tell him just yet. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t want Em and Henry knowing about the shoes, though they had to have an inkling.

“Well,” I said, smiling brightly. “I made a wish, and before you know it, we were all here!”

“Is that so,” the Scarecrow said thoughtfully. I could tell he wasn’t buying it.

“We landed right in the same spot as last time—my old house was still there, if you can even imagine.”

“Of course it is,” he replied with a smile. “That little house is considered one of Oz’s most important landmarks.”

Uncle Henry looked up from his Waldorf salad. “Mr. Scarecrow,” he said. “Dorothy tells us you’re the smartest character in all the land.”


The Scarecrow nodded modestly, and Uncle Henry continued. “My wife, Emily, and I, we were hoping you’d have some idea of how the three of us might be able to get back—”

“Oh, drop it already!” I snapped. Aunt Em gasped, and I instantly clapped my hand to my mouth. I have to say that I was shocked at myself. Never in my life had I spoken so disrespectfully to my uncle. Or to anyone, really.

But it had been such a long day, and my aunt and uncle were being so troublesome. Here they were, eating the greatest meal they’d ever dared to dream of, and all they could think of was how to go back to our sad little farmhouse and our dusty pigpens.

I must try to control my temper, I chided myself. If I wanted my aunt and uncle to see things my way, it wouldn’t do to make them angry.

The Scarecrow shot me a curious sidelong glance but otherwise ignored my outburst. “It’s true that I’ve been blessed with an excess of the finest brains known to man or beast, Munchkin, witch, or wizard,” he said, tapping his head with a stuffed glove. “But I’m sad to say that traveling between Oz and the outside world is no simple feat.”

“I see,” Henry said.

“Dorothy thinks a lady by the name of Glinda might be able to help,” Aunt Em said. “Do you have any idea of where we might find her?”

Again, the Scarecrow gave me a meaningful look that said, We’ll discuss this later. “I do not,” he said. “Glinda’s whereabouts have been unknown for quite some time now.”

“For how long?” I asked, putting my fork down, suddenly interested again in the conversation.

“Oh, it’s hard to say,” the Scarecrow replied. He fiddled with a piece of straw that was poking out of his head. “You know we’re not much for time here in Oz. No one gets older here, and we celebrate the holidays whenever we’re of a mood for it. But it was some time after Ozma took the crown. Glinda let it be known that she had important magical business beyond the Deadly Desert, and that we shouldn’t worry about her—that she would return when the time was right. That must have been, oh, at least ten years ago, if I venture a guess.”

“Ten years!” I exclaimed. “But, how long have I been gone?”

The Scarecrow turned in his seat and fixed his eyes on me seriously. “I don’t know, but I daresay there are many people here in Oz who won’t remember you at all. I, myself, had almost forgotten what you looked like.”

My last adventure here had lasted for what felt like almost a month, but when I’d returned home, only a few days had passed. Still, the idea that I had been gone so long that I’d been forgotten was unimaginable. All of my memories were still so fresh in my head.

I had so much to ask the Scarecrow. Why wasn’t he king anymore? Who was this Ozma person? Did he have any suspicions about where Glinda had really gone? But I had the impression that he didn’t want to talk about any of it in front of my aunt and uncle, and so I finished my meal in silence.

But there was so much on my mind that I hardly touched my food. Uncle Henry was a different story. I hadn’t even made a dent in my Waldorf salad, and he had already scarfed down a goblet full of maraschino cherries, a small mincemeat pie, several hunks of lamb slathered with green mint jelly, and—despite the fact that I was unsure where exactly shellfish came from in Oz, where there were no oceans that I knew of—a giant portion of shrimp cocktail served in a crystal goblet brimming with crushed ice.

And then they brought out the ice cream.

“Oh dear,” Aunt Em said when she saw it. “I’m afraid I can’t possibly eat any more. The meal was just perfect, Mr. Scarecrow, but I’m afraid it’s been quite a day. Would it be terribly rude of me to excuse myself?”

“Of course not,” the Scarecrow said. He clapped his hands and another Munchkin, this one dressed all in yellow, appeared. “This is BonBon. He’ll show you to your rooms.”

“Thank you, sir,” Uncle Henry said, standing along with Em. “Dorothy, don’t you stay up too late. Tomorrow we’ll need to be up at the crack of dawn to find Miss Glinda so that we can head on home.”

BonBon bowed and led them away.

As soon as they were gone, I pulled Toto into my lap and turned my chair to face the Scarecrow.

“Now tell me what is going on here,” I said. “I know there must be more to the story than you were telling me.”