“There are different kinds of love.”
“If your love with Toto is not to reproduce, then what is it for?”
“It’s not for anything. Love is for itself.”
“You speak nonsense. Love must have utility, or you wouldn’t seek love.”
She tried to look into the black nubs she assumed were his eyes.
“You really don’t know about love?”
“I do not. Will you teach me everything you know about love?”
“Of course! We’ll be friends. A friend is one name for someone you love. I can help you learn about love and you can help me find my way home. Aunt Em and Uncle Henry must be sick with worry.”
“If love of a friend is one sort of love, what are the other sorts?”
“Well…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “There’s love of your parents. Your mother and father always know what’s best for you, so you have to do what they say.”
“I have no parents.”
She patted him on the arm to comfort him.
“Somebody must have made you. Who created you? I suppose your creator would be like a parent to you.”
“I have no memory of a creator. I woke in the wilderness with no memory of what came before. Dorothy? I have a task to complete. Will you accompany me? Afterward, you can continue your teaching.”
She nodded.
The Tin Man scooped Dorothy up with one hand and Toto with the other and waded through the floorboards until he broke through the side of the house. The broken house collapsed in on itself with a shriek of scraping timbers.
“Hooray!” A chorus of squeaky voices shouted up at them.
Dorothy looked down on a crowd of colorful people down below. They were so tiny! And their houses were like toy houses.
“What are you celebrating?”
“Your arrival, witch killer.”
“I haven’t killed anyone!”
“Don’t be so modest. Look!” The Munchkin pointed to a point under the collapsed house where a woman’s legs extended out onto the street, wearing silver shoes that glittered in the sunlight.
Dorothy gasped. “Oh my goodness!”
One of the feet twitched and a moan emanated from within the rubble.
“She’s alive!” a Munchkin shouted. “Finish her off, witch killer!”
“Tin Man, will you pull her out please?”
The Tin Man placed his hands together so Dorothy could grab Toto from the other hand. Toto was out of breath now so she was able to hold him without further injury.
With his freed hand, the Tin Man grabbed the injured woman’s legs and yanked her free. His pull was accompanied by a shriek of pain. He scooped her up so only her head and shoulders protruded above his fingers. One eye was swollen shut and her hair was caked with blood.
“Are you okay, Ma’am?” Dorothy asked.
The woman’s head moved randomly back and forth, but no reply.
“Ma’am?”
A squeaky Munchkin voice sounded from the ground. “Kill her! Kill the Wicked Witch of the East!”
As Dorothy opened her mouth to speak, the giant’s hand contracted, crushing the woman in his fist. Blood sprayed out between his fingers and filled the air with a fine red mist. He let go of the Witch, dropping her mangled, shapeless corpse to land in a heap. Blood ran in rivulets between the yellow bricks.
Dorothy couldn’t look away. Her breath came quick and panicked. Her heart seemed to be trying to break its way out of her chest. Spots danced before her eyes and the ground seemed to jump up to meet her as everything went black.
She woke up to Toto’s wet kisses. She giggled and pushed him away.
“Toto, stop it. I had the strangest dream. I—”
The Tin Man loomed over her.
“You are awake now? Why did you sleep so suddenly?”
“I must have fainted.” The memory flashed across her mind again, the gripping fist, the dripping blood. She tried to slide away from the monstrous giant, but ran out of ground—she was sitting on his outstretched hand. The surface was covered with patches of red like splashes of paint. Only, she knew it wasn’t paint. She doubled over, losing her breakfast on the giant’s thumb. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “Sorry. Can you let me down, please?”
He didn’t move.
“Are you ill? Do you need a doctor?”
“No, I’m not ill. I’ll be fine. Will you set me down?”
“You’re acting strangely. Are you still my friend?”
She looked up into the row of black eyes. Perched where she was, she realized that denying his friendship now could have fatal consequences. For the first time in her life, she lied.
“Of course I’m still your friend.” She scooped Toto up into her lap and held him tight. He was trembling. “But what you did to that poor woman… I don’t know how you could do such a thing.”
A sound like whirring clockwork emanated from the giant’s head.
“Why did her death bother you? Was she your friend?”
“Not yet, but maybe she could have been. Anyway, she didn’t deserve that. Killing is wrong.”
“Death is a part of nature. How can it be wrong? You may as well say that it’s wrong for sunlight to be warm, or for trees to grow upward. You can’t stop nature.”
“But it is wrong to kill. What did she ever do to you?”
“Nothing. But I came here to kill her.”
“Why?”
“Because witches are a dangerous abomination. I was made to kill her, so it couldn’t have been wrong. Denying my purpose, that would be wrong.”
“You’re wrong!” Dorothy shouted, and tears began to stream down her face. She pounded at his hand with both fists. “Let me down!”
To her surprise, he did, lowering her gently down to the ground. She looked down for the first time since awakening, and realized that he had carried her out of town and into the countryside. She could see a town in the distance with the yellow brick road curving her way.
She stumbled off the road through the weeds and brambles, trying to hold Toto above the thorns. She collapsed in a heap, holding her face in her hands. Every time she blinked the image came to her unbidden, the squelch of the mangled corpse hitting the road. She cried and she cried, until she didn’t have any tears left. Toto curled up against her, offering her comfort.
She sat there a long time until Toto jumped to his feet. Looking up, Dorothy saw a woman approaching from the direction of the Munchkin town. She wore a billowing pink dress. The delicate folds should have been torn to shreds by the brambles, but the thorny weeds seemed to bow out of her way. Toto ran to the woman’s side and she gave him a pat and a smile. Another witch? Dorothy glanced fearfully back to the road. The Tin Man was standing immobile.
“Why are you crying, child?” the woman said as she walked toward Dorothy. She didn’t have a hair out of place, or a single blemish. She was impossibly perfect, like a doll.
“Go away,” Dorothy whispered. The tears were threatening to start again, but she held them back. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Don’t fret. Everything will turn out right in the end. It always does, you know.”
“He’ll kill you too if you don’t leave.”
The woman laughed, a sound like musical chimes.
“I don’t intend to let him take me as easily as that. You’re injured? Hold out your arm.”
Dorothy held out the arm with the bite wound.
Glinda waved her hand over it, and the wound completely disappeared. “Lucinda might have survived if the house hadn’t landed on her head. It wasn’t your fault, I’m sure, just an unhappy coincidence. He might have gotten her even without your arrival. Her magic was a crutch. The Witch of the North he got by surprise. She didn’t stand a chance—he got her in her sleep. She didn’t even see him coming. Oh! How rude of me not to introduce myself. I am Glinda, the Good Witch of the South. You’re too large to be a Munchkin. Where are you from?”
“I’m Dorothy, from Kansas. I need to go back. My aunt and uncle will be so worried about me.”
“You poor thing. Come here.” Glinda held out her arms.
Glinda seemed so motherly, Dorothy couldn’t resist. She closed her eyes and imagined Glinda as her mother.
Booming footsteps. Dorothy’s eyes snapped open. She struggled free of Glinda’s arms and turned to face the Tin Man.
“Stop!”
He stopped.
“You mustn’t hurt her.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s my friend.”
“Why should that stop me?”
Dorothy stamped her foot. “Because I wouldn’t be your friend anymore. I wouldn’t love you and I wouldn’t tell you about love.”
The Tin Man hesitated for long seconds. “You use your love as a bribe to control me. This is love?”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I will refrain from killing the witch for a time.” But he didn’t move.
“Will you give us some privacy, please?”
“Why?”
“It’s what a friend would do. Friends trust each other.”
“Very well.” He walked a ways down the road with a sulky slouch.
“That was incredible,” Glinda said. “No one else can stay his hand. He can wade through fields of warriors without taking a scratch.” Glinda’s voice was distant and her eyes unfocused. “Magic rolls off him like water off an oiled tent. Yet you, a mere girl, can control him by speaking of love.”
Dorothy didn’t know what to say.
“Oh, I just had the most wonderful idea! There is one who might be able to destroy him. Witch’s magic is ineffective, but the Wizard performs a different sort of magic. If anyone can stop the Tin Man, he can. But the Wizard’s magic is very local, tied to the Emerald City. You must bring The Tin Man to the Wizard if we’re to have any hope of defeating him.”
The Tin Man shouted out to them.
“You have been alone long enough. I’m coming over there.”
Dorothy turned and shouted back.
“Please give us a moment longer!” She turned back to Glinda. “I just want to go home!”
“The Wizard can do that for you as well. Yes, and the Tin Man can request a heart.” Glinda clapped her hands together in a childish gesture of excitement. “It’s perfect. You’ll still need to travel with him, of course.”
Dorothy’s gorge rose.
“I don’t want to go with him. He’s terrible!”
“Stop acting like a brat.” Glinda’s previous bubbling tone was gone. This new voice was scary. It was quiet and mean. Her face changed with her voice, her eyes cold and her lips drawn in a tight line. “He has no conscience. If you don’t guide him, you will be responsible for every drop of blood on his hands. Have you seen the Tin Man’s feet? They’re stained red with Munchkin blood. He didn’t seek out those Munchkins to trample them, he just took the shortest route to his destination and walked through anything that was in his path. Orphans and widows by the thousands, all because you wouldn’t do what you were told. Is that what you want?”
“No! Of course not.”
In the blink of an eye Glinda’s face changed from the nasty glare to the warm glow again.
“Oh, I’m so glad you see it my way. All you need to do is follow the yellow brick road. It will take you straight to the Emerald City.”
“Will you come with me?”
“I’m afraid I can’t, dear. I need to bring the Munchkins under some semblance of control. Munchkins hate authority figures. If I don’t give them someone to unite against they’ll turn on each other and I’ll come back to find they’ve all killed each other. Honestly, I don’t know how they ever survived without an outside ruler. I do need to be going. Tin Man! Yoohoo, will you come over here please?”
The Tin Man approached, covering the long distance quickly. Now that Glinda had mentioned his feet they were impossible not to notice. They were splattered red up to the ankles. Dorothy had to force her eyes away. Those poor Munchkins. It would almost have been better if the Tin Man had killed them out of hatred. Then at least she could understand why, but to kill only because it was convenient? That chilled Dorothy to the bone.
Glinda rummaged in the folds of her dress.
“Dorothy, I have a gift for you.” She pulled out a pair of red shoes and held them out to Dorothy. “Lucinda would have wanted you to have them.” Her face was still friendly, but Dorothy thought she saw a hint of mean. “Your shoes are nearly worn through. You’ll need these if you’re going to walk any distance. Sorry about the stains, I tried to wash them off but they set very quickly.”
Dorothy backed away, waving her hands in denial.
“No thank you. I’ll make do.”
“I insist.” Glinda’s eyes flashed at Dorothy, demanding obedience.
“No, no I don’t want them.”
The Tin Man leaned down.
“Is she not your friend anymore, Dorothy?”
“She’s my friend,” Dorothy said hurriedly.
“If you’re friends, then why don’t you take her gift?”
“Yes, Dorothy, why?” Glinda asked sweetly.
“But they were just on a dead body! They’re covered in blood and… and I just don’t want to!”
“Stop fussing, dear. You’re embarrassing yourself. Beggars can’t be choosers. You need shoes or you’ll never make to the Emerald City.”
Dorothy knew Glinda was right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. She took off her old shoes, which were indeed too worn to be traveling in, and slipped on the red slippers. They should have been too big, but they reshaped themselves for her feet. They felt unpleasant against her skin, warm and yielding like flesh. Shoes of the murdered, shoes of the murderer. Now her feet matched the Tin Man’s, stained with blood.
“I’m sorry I have to leave so soon, child. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Without another word, Glinda strode off in the direction of town.
Dorothy watched on, both happy and sad to see the woman go. Turning to the Tin Man she said,
“Well, I suppose we should get going. The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive.”
She turned and started walking down the yellow brick road. For every ten steps Dorothy took, the Tin Man only had to take one. She could have asked him to carry her, but that would have meant trusting him not to crush her.
She let Toto walk as long as he could, but she had to pick him up after a few miles.
They paused once in the afternoon to collect berries for her and Toto to eat. The Tin Man confirmed they weren’t poisonous. She folded the leftovers in a handkerchief to eat later.
They walked without stopping for the whole afternoon. The Munchkin village receded behind them, and the scenery gradually changed to farmland, corn fields as far as the eye could see. She could almost believe she was in Kansas again.
The red shoes were oddly comfortable to walk in. They seemed so flimsy, but every time she stepped down, the soles flexed to cushion her step.
Even so, her legs grew tired, and her arms from holding Toto. As they passed through a crossroads, she spotted a rock that would make a good chair. She plopped herself down and let Toto down to make water.
Her feet felt fine, but she wanted to take the shoes off and let her feet air out. When she tried to remove them, they wouldn’t release their grip on her feet. She tried again and again, but they still wouldn’t budge. Finally, she gave up and just sat back to rest her legs.
The Tin Man sat down next to her.
“Did Glinda send you to kill me?”
“No.”
“Your guilty heart betrays you. I can hear it pounding in your chest.”
Extra conscious of her heart, she spoke again.
“I’m sorry I lied. I just don’t want you to hurt her. Yes, that was her idea, but I’m hoping that if I teach you enough about love, you will choose to stop killing and then no one will want you to die.
An animal’
s roar rang out through the air and Toto jumped up into her arms.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know. It came from over there.” He pointed into one of the corn fields.
He strode ahead of her, tramping down the corn as he went. After a few giant-sized strides, he stopped. Dorothy peeked around his leg. In a small clearing in the corn she saw a Lion tearing at the belly of an outstretched man’s body.
The body bounced limply, devoid of life. She breathed in sharply and her legs tried to carry her away. She couldn’t remember what she supposed to do, run or play dead? She put one hand against the Tin Man’s leg to steady herself. She was glad of his protective presence for the moment.
Just then, the head of the body happened to bounce so it faced in her direction.
“Hello there,” it said cheerfully.
Before Dorothy could recover from her surprise, the Lion turned and snarled. It pounced at her but the Tin Man snatched the Lion out of the air. It hissed and snarled. The Tin Man’s hand held it too tightly for it to break free.
Toto barked up at the Lion, swearing to teach it a lesson once he was within reach.
“Should I kill it?”
“No!” she and the Lion shouted simultaneously.
“No!” the Lion continued. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” Tears began to pour down the Lion’s face, drenching its fur as huge sobs wracked its frame. “I’m so sorry. I’m just s-s-so hungry! I haven’t eaten in daaaaays!”
“There, there. We’ll get you something to eat.”
The Lion stopped sobbing.
“You have food?”
“I do, actually. Just a moment.”
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll do whatever you say if you just give me something to eat.”
“Here you go.” She unfolded the handkerchief full of berries and held them up to him.
“B-b-b-berries! I can’t eat berries. If only I could. Berries aren’t frightening at all, but they do make me ill.” And he began to sob all over again. “Can you make the dog stop barking at me, please? Each yip is like a nail through my heart.”
Shadows of the Emerald City Page 19
