Clove sighed. “You have. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t believe this,” Mom shrieked. “You’re supposed to be focusing on me! I’m the center of attention here! I’m the queen!”
“Do you think that’s how Aunt Tillie really sees your mom?” Thistle asked. “Do you think she sees her as the despot in our little fiefdom and she’s always bossing her around?”
“I think Aunt Tillie has a warped sense of the world,” I said. “I think this is exactly how she sees Mom, though.”
“How do you think she sees my mom?” Thistle asked.
“She’s the court jester,” Landon said, grinning.
Thistle made a face, but it didn’t last long. “I can see that.”
“Now that you’ve all played kissy face and … whatever it is you’re doing … can we please get back to the issue at hand?” Mom demanded. “I have a schedule!”
“Here’s my schedule,” I said, pushing myself from the ground and dusting off the seat of my pants. “We’re done. We don’t want to play this game. We’re not going to be beheaded. We’re not going to sit here and listen to you complain and make a speech. We’re done!”
I extended my hand to help Landon up. Thistle, Clove, Sam and Marcus rose to their feet, too.
“We’re going to go into the castle now,” I said. “We’re going to find the great and powerful Tillie and we’re going to go home.”
“The great and powerful Tillie?” Thistle asked.
“Oh, I forgot you weren’t there to hear that part,” I said. “Yeah, the bears told us. She lives in the castle.”
“Well, that figures,” Thistle said. “She’s always had an inflated sense of ego.”
“I’m not sure that’s true in this case,” I said. “She did create this world, after all.”
“I guess,” Thistle conceded, “but it’s just like her to put herself in charge of everything.”
“She always has been in charge of everything,” I said. “Let’s go worship at her feet – I’m sure begging will be involved – and go home.”
“I’m with you,” Thistle said. “Let’s kiss her royal butt and get out of here.”
“Has everyone forgotten who is in control here?” Mom asked, struggling to pull herself out of the narrow confines of her golden throne. Her dress was so wide it put up a fight. “I’m in control! I am! I have lists! Did you not hear me when I said I have lists?”
I shot her a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s hard being you,” I said. “I think it’s hard being all of us, though.”
“Even Aunt Tillie,” Clove added.
I grabbed Landon’s hand. “Come, my prince,” I said. “We’re done here.”
We pushed past the guards, who conveniently pretended they didn’t see us. We were halfway down the path that led to the castle when Mom launched into one of her patented diatribes.
“I’m so sick of this,” she said. “I can’t tell you how sick of this I am. I’m the queen! I’m in charge! Does anyone listen to me, though? Of course not. It’s all about the great and powerful Tillie! She’s the one everyone listens to. She’s the one everyone fears. She’s the one everyone bows to.”
“Life sucks,” Clove called over her shoulder.
“And then you die,” Thistle added, laughing.
“I’m just sick of this,” Mom said. “I have to wear this stupid dress and no one listens to me! Well … I’m not taking one more second of this. I’m just … done!”
I risked a glance back at Mom, a momentary surge of pity washing over me. “It will be better when we get home,” I said. “As long as you haven’t been eaten by zombies or anything, that is.”
“Oh, I’m done playing nice,” Mom said, throwing her crown on the ground and kicking it angrily. “I’m so done! Guards! Guards! Off with their heads!”
I froze at the command, and when the guards sprang into action I realized we weren’t quite out of the woods yet.
“Run!”
“DO you really think they’ll kill us?” Thistle asked, leaning against the outside castle wall, gasping.
“I think we’re safe as long as we can get inside the castle,” I said, pushing her forward. “Move.”
“I’m tired.”
“The guards are still coming,” Landon said, stepping beside me and grabbing my wrist. “We have to get inside the castle.”
“Shouldn’t there be more doors?” Clove whined.
“That would be too easy,” I said. “Now, come on. We’re so close I can almost taste it … and by taste it I mean I can actually taste the real food waiting for us if we can manage to get out of this hateful place.”
“I want bacon,” Landon said.
“I’m going to glue bacon to my body and roll on top of you for an hour if we ever get out of here,” I said.
“Sold,” Landon said, increasing his pace. “The door should be around this corner. Come on.”
“Are we sure that the castle is the way out?” Sam asked, pressing his hand against the small of Clove’s back to prod her. Because she was the shortest she was having the most trouble keeping up. “What if we have to go back down the beanstalk?”
“The bears told me this castle belongs to Aunt Tillie,” I said. “I believe them. They also knew about the sacrifice.”
“Thanks for warning us,” Thistle grumbled.
“Hey, you guys were already gone when we found out,” I said. “Don’t blame me for this. You could have screamed or something when they took you.”
“They had their hands over our mouths,” Clove said.
“And knives at our throats,” Marcus added.
“Everyone shut up and run,” Landon said. “There’s the door.”
“What do we do when we get inside?”
“We find Aunt Tillie and sit on her until she sends us home,” I said. “I’m out of patience.”
“And I want bacon,” Landon said, hopping up the steps and throwing his body weight against the castle door to open it. “This is it. This is going to be the end. If it’s not, I’m sitting down on the floor and never moving again. This is all I can take. This is … good grief. Will you look at this place?”
If your inner voice tells you something is too good to be true, tell it to shut up. Inner voices don’t know anything but how to rain on your parade. They’re real downers most of the time.
– Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up
Nineteen
“Whoever said you can never have too much green was lying,” said Thistle as she screwed up her face while glancing around the castle foyer. “This is … just … horrible.”
The castle had undergone yet another transformation. This one looked as though someone had put the Hulk in a blender and forgotten to put the top on before hitting the “puree” button.
“Look,” Clove said, pointing at the floor. “The yellow brick road is back.”
“I knew we were going to end at Oz,” I said.
“You’re very smart, sweetie,” Landon said.
“And you always have to be right,” Thistle added.
“Shut up, Thistle,” I said.
“You shut up.”
“Both of you shut up,” Landon said. “This is crunch time, people. We need a touchdown. We all have to work from the same playbook.”
“Have I ever told you how turned on I get when you use sports metaphors to rev us up?” I asked.
“No.”
“There’s a reason,” I said.
Landon rolled his eyes.
“I think the bloom is off the rose for all of us,” Marcus said. “We’re struggling here. Landon is right, though. We’re close. We only have to get through one more story. Can we please try to refrain from killing each other until we’re all back in the guesthouse?”
“I can’t make that promise,” Thistle said. “I’ve been through a lot today.”
“We’ve all been through a lot,” Clove said.
“Not really,” Thistle repl
ied. “You got shoved in a tower for a bit and then got insulted by some dwarves who didn’t like the way you sang. I had to kiss a frog.”
“Thanks again, honey,” Marcus said.
Thistle ignored him. “I also had to kill a wolf,” she said. “I ate poisoned food and passed out. How does your day compare to mine?”
“You don’t want to start comparing experiences,” I warned.
“You definitely don’t,” Landon agreed. “You’ve all had it easy compared to us.”
“Wah, wah, wah.” Thistle danced around a little, something that was out of the ordinary – even when we weren’t trapped in a book.
“We’re being affected again,” I said. “I’m not sure by what, but this is the last obstacle. We can’t succumb to it.”
Landon cracked his neck. “How can you tell?”
“Thistle just danced while insulting you,” I said. “She’s not big on dancing.”
“She’s right,” Thistle said, glancing down at her feet. “I have horrible rhythm. I don’t dance unless it’s a slow one and I can let Marcus lead.”
“It’s the only time I get to lead,” Marcus said.
“Join the club,” Landon said, rubbing my back. “Okay, everyone, bite your tongues. Let’s not talk unless we absolutely have to.”
Everyone nodded and snapped their mouths shut. After a few minutes of staring at each other and hopping from foot to foot, I couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s not going to work.”
“I’m sorry,” Landon said. “That was a bad idea.”
“Let’s find the great and powerful Tillie and get out of here,” Thistle said. “If I jump on her, someone pull me off before I kill her. I’m afraid we’ll be trapped here forever if I kill our ‘Get Out of Oz’ talisman.”
“I’ll let you get in a few good licks first,” Landon said. “What? She has it coming.”
“Did someone say my name?” Aunt Tillie materialized out of nowhere, popping into existence a few feet from us. She was no longer dressed as a fairy godmother, instead wearing a camouflage dress with a wide belt cinched at her waist. Her face was serene as she bowed in front of us. “Welcome to my home.”
“I’m going to kill you, old lady,” Thistle said, launching herself at Aunt Tillie and falling flat on the ground when Aunt Tillie disappeared.
“Where did she go?” Clove asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Don’t do that again,” Landon ordered, wagging a finger in Thistle’s face. “She obviously doesn’t like being attacked.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Aunt Tillie said, blinking back into existence on a velvet settee in the middle of the room. She glanced at her fingernails, feigning boredom. “Besides that, you can’t catch me. I’m quick … like a ninja.”
“I can if I make a really big rat trap and bait it with essence of evil,” Thistle growled.
Aunt Tillie was nonplussed. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“I do.”
“I don’t.”
“I do.”
“Let’s get back on target, shall we?” Landon said, focusing on Aunt Tillie. “We’re ready to go home.”
“And where is your home?”
“Aren’t you the great and powerful Tillie?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
“Who says I don’t?”
“Why would you ask if you didn’t know?”
“Why do you care?” Aunt Tillie asked. She was so annoying. Even her alter egos were obnoxious.
“We want to go home,” I said. “We’re really tired. We’ve worked our way through all the stories. I think we’ve earned our ruby slippers … or whatever weird thing you’re going to give us to get us home. I’m guessing with you we’re going to be tapping combat boots together.”
“What makes you think I can get you home?” Aunt Tillie asked. “I’m very good at what I do, but I’m not omnipotent.”
“That’s not what you usually say,” Clove grumbled.
“Did you say something, dear?”
“I said your dress is beautiful,” Clove said.
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“We’ve learned our lessons,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Now we want to go home.”
“I’m not sure you have learned your lessons yet,” Aunt Tillie said. “You might have one left to learn.”
“No,” Landon said, emphatically shaking his head. “No more lessons. We’re good.”
“Come on,” Aunt Tillie purred. “The last one will be easy. I promise.”
“What is it?” I asked, resigned.
Aunt Tillie pointed to a door at the far end of the room, and as if on cue a group of people moved through it. I recognized each and every one of them – and I actually wished I had a camera.
Marnie was there, struggling to move through her tin outfit as the joints made rusty creaking noises with every step. Chief Terry, dressed as a lion, held her steady at one side while a scarecrow that looked suspiciously like Twila gripped her other arm. A green-skinned witch (my mother is going to be furious when I tell her how she looked in this one) cackled like a mad woman while several flying monkeys – which bore a striking resemblance to Aunt Willa, Rosemary and Lila – flanked her.
“What are we supposed to do with them?” I asked, rubbing my forehead.
“Can someone tell me why I’m even here?” Chief Terry asked. “I wasn’t part of any of this. This is embarrassing.”
Landon shot him a sympathetic look. “I think she just had a leftover role to fill.”
“At least you can walk,” Marnie said. “Why am I the one who doesn’t have a heart? I’m a very loving person.”
“At least you have a brain,” Twila said, miserable. “Why does everyone think I’m stupid?”
“Hey! I’m the one with green paint seeping into my pores,” Mom snapped. “Do you have any idea how hard this crap is going to be to get off? Not to mention this is the second ridiculous outfit I’ve been dressed in – and both characters have been less than flattering.”
“That’s a nice way of saying you’re a villain,” Thistle said. “Don’t feel bad. Everyone’s been hinting that I’m a villain for the past … what … twelve hours? I’m beyond it.”
“Clearly,” I said. “It’s not as though you’re dwelling on it at all.”
“Shut up, Bay,” Thistle said.
“Can someone explain why I’m a monkey?” Lila asked.
“I think it’s an improvement,” I said.
“I’m never going to forget this,” Aunt Willa said. “I have a long memory, and I’m going to make whoever did this pay.”
“Shh,” Aunt Tillie said, lifting her finger to her lips. “No one cares what you have to say.”
Aunt Willa scowled. “This is so disrespectful.”
“I kind of like it,” Rosemary said, running her fingers over the fur. “It’s warm and cozy.”
“Shut up, Rosemary,” Aunt Willa said. “No one asked you.”
“I honestly don’t get it,” I said, shifting my attention back to Aunt Tillie. “What are we supposed to do with them?”
“You can kill me if you want,” Chief Terry said, raising his hand and causing Marnie to pitch forward.
“Get me out of this outfit right now!” Marnie struggled to avoid toppling over.
“I have an idea,” Thistle said, striding over to a table on the far side of the room. She yanked the green carnations from a vase and tossed them on the floor before walking over to my mother. “I’m really sorry about this.” She tossed the water in Mom’s face and took a step back.
“What the hell?” I couldn’t believe she did that.
When Mom didn’t immediately start melting I relaxed, if only marginally. “I don’t think that worked.”
“I’m going to ground you all within an inch of your lives,” Mom said. “I’m going to put a whole list of punishments together and I’m going to love doling out each and every one.”
“I
gnore her,” Aunt Tillie said. “She’s talking nonsense – like always.”
“Well, it was worth a shot,” Thistle said, shoving the vase onto another table and flopping onto the settee next to Aunt Tillie. “I’m out of ideas. I want to go home.”
Aunt Tillie smiled. “I didn’t say you had to solve a puzzle,” she said. “I said you had to learn a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“I can’t tell you what the lesson is,” Aunt Tillie said. “You have to figure it out yourself. That’s how Tillie’s World works.”
“You named the book world after yourself?” Thistle asked, incredulous. “That’s so … .”
“Genius?” Aunt Tillie supplied.
“I was going to say narcissistic,” Thistle replied.
Aunt Tillie glared at her. “I don’t need this. I’m a very busy woman. I don’t have to sit here and take your abuse. I’m not the one who wants out of here.”
“Oh, please, Aunt Tillie,” I said, hating how whiny I sounded. “We’re sorry. We’re really sorry. We’re sorry we yelled at you. We’re sorry we threatened you. Heck, we’re sorry we ever laughed at you. We’re sorry for every rotten thing we ever did to you.”
“Go on,” Aunt Tillie said, clearly enjoying herself.
“We just want to go home,” Landon said. “I’ve never wanted any one thing more than I want to be able to roll over … in a bed … and realize that I’m not alone and we’re not about to be attacked by something or threatened by something or even simply annoyed by something.”
His words tugged at my heart – and pricked at my brain. “We’re ready to go home,” I said, grabbing Landon’s hand. “After all, there’s no place like home.”
Aunt Tillie jumped to her feet. “See! Was that so hard?”
“That’s it?” Thistle’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “That’s all you wanted?”
“I’m easy to please,” Aunt Tillie said.
Thistle looked as if she was about to argue but Marcus wisely clapped his hand over her mouth. “You’re very easy to please,” he said.
Aunt Tillie winked at him and then waved her hands dramatically. After a brief burst of light, the rejects from Oz who resembled our family disappeared – along with the horrid green interior of the castle – and we found ourselves standing in an almost empty parlor. The only things in the room were two pedestals. A pair of ruby slippers sat on one and a gold lamp rested on the other.
Once Upon a Witch: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Books 1-3 Page 17
