Following the woman to the bottom of the graveyard hill Dorothy feels her stomach in knots, terrified of what will happen in the castle, so she insists, ‘My friends, make sure they’re here when I come out,’ hoping they will help her if she’s in danger. The guide nods her head, quietly replying, ‘If you come out they will be waiting for you ma’am,’ before leaving as Dorothy mumbles, ‘That’s encouraging,’ ready to trek up the hill again. In her stride she ignores the skeletons this time, has no thought of the dead beneath her as she stamps on the soil, her mind drifting to what the guard said when she entered the city. When asking him if the wizard’s a good man he simply replied, ‘He is…though to those who are not honest…he is cruel…’ Dorothy feels her skin splinter with cold, the thought of what the wizard will do to her if he knows she’s lied to her friends. She didn’t tell them of the dangers she carries, that she’d been marked by the wicked western witch since she killed Avatonika. Feeling the guilt burn in her stomach Dorothy reaches the castle, the large doors open as if by magic, and she ignores the guards, stepping inside and hoping the wizard will send her home, praying he’ll overlook her lie and not hurt her friends.
Standing in the castle’s emerald darkness Dorothy feels the large doors close behind her, as the cold silence pricks at her skin. Stepping forward into nothingness she expects a voice, something to guide her, but all she hears are faint echoes through the grim castle. Following the distant sounds, clenching a fist she walks through the dark corridor, sure it’s grand and amazing though unable to tell. Turning a corner, she stretches out a hand to feel a carved marble pillar and looks in the distance to see a lit room. Walking toward it, fearing there could be something in the darkness behind her she moves quickly.
Running through the empty castle she reaches the lit room, stepping into the light without hesitation as her mind plays tricks on her. Standing in the courtroom her eyes amaze at its grand architecture and she looks to the walls, both left and right as she stares at a dozen ladies and gentlemen. All dressed in fine outfits they remain seated, with their hands folded and eyes flickering as Dorothy approaches the strange company. Cautious if this could be one of the wizard’s tricks she looks at their skin, textured like wood as long thin pieces of wire stretch from their limbs and disappear into holes in the ceiling. Unsure if they’re real people or an elaborate puppet show Dorothy looks past them to a small door and slowly makes her way toward it.
With company either side of her she looks to them as she passes, watching their flickering eyes, like that of dolls as she hears one voice, ‘Are you sure you want to see the face of Oz the impaler?’ Looking at his synthetic expression Dorothy says, ‘Yes, if he will see me,’ and another voice answers, ‘If he knows of your silver boots he’ll see you,’ whilst a third groans, ‘He knows everything.’ Turning around swiftly, looking at all of the seated members she tries to see whose speaking and asks, ‘Who are you?’ One voice answers, ‘We are the ones who refused to leave!’ then another speaks, ‘We are the ones who wish to see the wizard!’ as a final voice utters, ‘We are the ones who wasted the wizards time!’
Spinning in a circle, unable to tell which one’s talking a dozen separate voices continue, ‘Now shall never leave!’, ‘Can never leave!’, ‘Now shall never leave!’, ‘Can never leave!’, ‘Now shall never leave!’, ‘Can never leave!’ Breaking their madness a deep husk roars, ‘ENTER!’ and Dorothy looks to the small door as it opens. Running to it, and having to crouch to get under the frame she looks into the wizard’s throne room. Amazed at how a doorway so small could lead to a room so grand Dorothy stares in awe; looking at the machinery spread along the thick room, arched ceilings and an elaborate emerald glow as she walks deeper. Staring to a throne at the tip of the room, hidden behind a dull panel she looks around again to see chunks of wood, metal skeletons, workbenches and tools, though not a single window. Looking back to the empty throne, approaching it slowly a deep dark voice licks at Dorothy’s skin, booming through the room as she feels her eyes water. A voice so terrifying its how the young girl imagined the devil would sound:
‘I am Oz, the great and wonderful, the reaper and the terrible. I have many names and faces, what do you want from me?’
Looking around the room at first, hopelessly trying to find a figure to put with the voice Dorothy gazes back at the throne, though this time it’s not empty, and she stares at the shadow of a horned man. Fear flows through her veins like never before and she whimpers:
‘I…I am Dorothy, j…just flesh and bone, and I need your help.’
Looking at the horned wizard’s silhouette, sitting in his throne in front of her eyes she hears a voice behind her, as it touches at her shoulder and leeches into her ears, ‘Why should I help you?’ Trembling, so scared to move, feeling him behind her she begs, ‘Please, I just want to go home,’ and his voice smashes against her skin like thunder as she falls to her knees, ‘Where did you get those silver boots?’ Trying to answer, her body frozen she mutters, ‘I…I got them from the eastern witch… I killed her.’ The wizard’s voice touches against Dorothy’s skin, slithering up her body as he asks, ‘And the key?’ She whimpers, ‘Bopeia,’ closing her eyes and clenching her teeth as the ruler’s voice stretches along her neck, slithering, ‘And what do you want from me?’ With her eyes clenched tightly, feeling scales and blood touch at her face she softly mouths, ‘Kansas, I just want to go home to my family, my…my aunt and uncle.’
Silence falls, the voice leaves Dorothy’s skin and creeps through the grand room, ‘I will help you, but you must do something for me in return!’ With her eyes still closed, a lump in her throat she asks, ‘What?’ only imagining the horror ahead of her as the wizard’s voice penetrates into Dorothy’s skin. Biting like a hundred snakes he hisses, ‘Kill the witch of the west!’ Dorothy cries, ‘I cannot!’ as her cheeks glisten with tears and she slams a fist to the ground. Whimpering again, she feels all hope is gone, her task impossible as she sobs, ‘I can’t go through Oz anymore.’ Crashing against her skin like a brutal wave the wizard commands, ‘You will!’ as she opens her eyes to see him standing in front of her.
Crawling backwards, too scared to even scream she pulls her weight along the marble floor and stares at the terrible wizard. Standing seven feet tall he towers over the girl, his skinned muscular body made of nothing but raw dripping flesh, held together with an armour of bones. Reaching for her face with a large taloned hand she feels his long cloak against her bare legs and looks up at his face, almost like a bleeding humans, though thick bones spread from his temples. He screams, ‘ I can do with you as I wish!’ as Dorothy looks at his mouth to see no teeth, just two thick fangs like a spider as she stares at his eyes, almost human as thick mounds of meat surround them. Then the God walks away, his blood dripping along the floor as his voice slices at Dorothy’s ears:
‘You will kill the witch or never leave Oz. I’ll make sure of that.’
Leaving the castle Dorothy sees her friends at the bottom of the hill, running to them as she wraps her arms around Scarecrow, crying, ‘There’s no hope.’ His face frowning quizzically he holds her tightly, caressing her head with a gentle hand as he asks, ‘What’s wrong Dorothy?’ She sobs, pushing her face into Scarecrow’s burlap head for comfort, ‘He’ll only send me home if I kill the western witch.’ Looking up to Dorothy, horrified for her the lion stands on his hind legs as he wraps his front two around the girl and scarecrow, cushioning her head with his mane as he squeezes them both gently. Pressed against the two of them Dorothy sobs, ‘I’ll never get home,’ as the heartless Tin-man places a hand on her shoulder, looking into her crystal blue eyes as he groans, ‘I am so sorry.’
Soon she goes to her room, lying in bed as she cries, thinking that she’ll never see aunt Em and uncle Henry again. She’d been so good back in her own world, followed all the rules, and suffered the fake families, all for nothing. She cries, holding Scarecrow’s hand as tightly as she can, lying next to him on the bed with the lion on her ot
her side. Sleeping heavily, like a lazy cat she feels his heart beating against her back as she rests on her side, letting his deep breaths tickle her ears, and his paws hold her closely.
Sandwiched between the lion and Scarecrow on such a small bed Dorothy looks into the straw man’s buttons as he frowns. Feeling nostalgic, she tells him stories of when she was younger, about the farm on Kansas as she remembers how aunt Em would sit on the porch drinking lemonade, teaching her how to knit as uncle Henry would reap the crops. She tells him more as the hours pass, looking over his shoulder occasionally at the tin-man as he watches them, unsure how to interact. Remembering everything she had when she was a young girl Dorothy smiles every now and again, though the tears don’t stop and Scarecrow asks, ‘Is that what it’s like having a heart?’
She nods, whimpering, ‘It hurts,’ with a sad smile as Scarecrow shakes his head, ‘I’m glad I don’t want one,’ but Dorothy looks at his curious burlap face. Feeling the lazy lion holding her, her precious Toto squeezed between them and the tin-man watching she touches Scarecrow’s round plastic buttons, smiling as she thinks of her family in Kansas, and her friends in Oz as she says, ‘No, it’s worth it.’
THE WIZARD OF OZ
21
The next morning Scarecrow’s summoned by the wizard, and leaves his friends at the bottom of the hill as he treks through the graveyard without worry. As he walks through the castle a faint stab of fear cuts into his empty head, though not of the wizard, only the dark corridors, thinking his buttons are broken until he sees a light in the distance.
Moving into the courtroom he smiles wildly at its grand architecture, boasting, ‘Oh boy, oh boy!’ as he looks to the seated ladies and gentlemen. Touching at their fine outfits and tapping at their wooden skin Scarecrow pokes, ‘How odd you are,’ as he looks at their long thin pieces of wire, stretching up to the ceiling. Tapping each of them on the head he says, ‘Hello?’ expecting a response, but they sit silently as the small door ahead of them opens. Struggling to get through such a small door Scarecrow feels his twisted limbs buckle, but soon forgets when he’s inside. Looking at the machines spread along the vast throne-room, the odd pieces of wood, metal and tools he runs to them, touching everything he possibly can as his voice echoes, ‘Oooh shiny!… peculiar!… what’s this… and this… oooh!’ Then abruptly the curious scarecrow turns quickly as he hears a soft voice, looking to see a beautiful woman draped in fine green silk. With crystals in her hair and emeralds sparkling along her gown Scarecrow stretches out a long crooked hand as he utters, ‘You’re beautiful!’ Walking toward the woman he hears her soft gentle voice whisper through the air, touching at his strands of straw:
‘I am Oz, the great and wonderful, the beautiful and the kind. I have many names and faces, what do you want from me?’
The scarecrow scratches his head as small pieces of straw fall from his burlap sack, trying to think, sure that he wanted something, and then it comes to him as a smile spreads along his eerie face:
‘I want a…a…a brain! Can you help me?’
The beautiful woman does not move, and her lips barely open as her voice drifts through Scarecrow’s strands of straw, stroking at his bare bones:
‘I will, but you will do something for me in return. You must kill the western witch!’
The scarecrow nods frantically, happy at first that she can help him, but then the tiniest of thoughts comes to him, so he asks, ‘Didn’t you ask Dorothy to kill the witch?’ Suddenly the woman’s voice turns colder, as brittle as ice as it freezes along the scarecrow’s burlap sack:
‘Yes. The witch is to die! I don’t care who kills her, but until she is dead you will never have your brain and I shall not make you a wise man.’
Leaving the castle without a worry Scarecrow skips down the graveyard hill, happy to spend more time with Dorothy as he reaches the bottom and tells his friends that the wizard is a beautiful woman. Asking Dorothy what she saw the young girl tells them of the horned man and the lion shakes in fear.
Soon they walk through the cobbled streets, arriving at Dorothy’s house as masked servants wait for them at the door. Expecting a punishment for letting her friends sleep in her room last night Dorothy’s hesitant at first, but the servants come bearing gifts. Bringing fresh meat for the lion, bundles of fresh straw for Scarecrow, oil for the tin-man and food and drink for Dorothy. After they have eaten, the servants tell stories to entertain the guests and Dorothy sits silently, sceptical of the generosity. Finally as nightfall creeps over the Emerald city the servants leave, telling Dorothy that her and her friends can all sleep under the same roof tonight, though they must not leave the house until morning.
Watching the servants leave Dorothy waits at the window, looking out at the dark streets as she spots discrete boxes, one on each building as they flash a tiny jade light. Abruptly she closes the curtains, running from each room to the next, doing the same, making sure the windows are closed and checking that no one can get inside the house. After some time she lies in bed happily with the lion and Scarecrow, falling asleep as she thinks of the western witch, wondering how she can kill her.
As the morning sun spreads over Emerald city there’s a knock on the front door and a whiskered soldier waits, ready to escort the tin-man to the graveyard hill. Without a second thought he walks through the cobbled streets, following the soldier as he stands at the bottom of the cemetery. Trekking up it with no fear, only the desire to obtain a heart, he crushes bones beneath his feet and stands in front of the castle. As the large doors open he journeys through the dark corridors to stand in the lit courtroom, feeling no amazement by the grand room, or even curiosity of the twelve seated puppets. Looking to the small door ahead of him one of the costumed crowd asks, ‘You dare see the wizard?’ as another follows, ‘You dare see the wizard?’ to which the tin-man approaches the seated bodies. Putting his hand against one’s face, he crushes it in his palm with a look of disappointment as the small door opens, and he struggles to fit through such a small frame.
Walking into the throne-room his eyes don’t drift, and he looks up to the wizard without the slightest threat. Towering over the tin-man the wizard is no longer a beautiful woman, and is instead a vile creature whose head touches the ceiling. With five eyes spread along its bulbous face the monstrous wizard sits with its spindly legs perched, as five tentacles and arms point to the tin-man. Looking up at the monster the tin-man’s patience wears thin, he has no time for games and wonders if slaying this beast will show him the true face of the wizard. ‘Is this supposed to frighten me!’ the heartless juggernaut roars through bear trap teeth, and the beast does not move. Its mouth rests shut, though a scaled voice crawls along the floor, touching at the tin-man’s weak metal, burning through the sheets like acid:
‘I am Oz, the great and wonderful, the monstrous and greedy. I have many names and faces, what do you want from me?’
The tin-man stands strong, untouchable as his voice booms through the throne-room, as loud as the wizard’s as he says, ‘I need a heart great wizard, will you help me?’
The wizard’s anger flares like a burst sun, yet his voice does not echo through the vast room, or smash into the tin-man’s thin sheets. Instead it creeps softly, piercing the metal and leeching into his brain as the words stab and linger like the teeth of a parasite:
‘You should fear me Tin-man, for what is metal I can melt, and what is flesh I can consume. I will give you a heart, though you must join the girl and kill the witch of the west first.’
The tin-man looks at him without expression, nodding his head as the thick metal around his chin grates at his chest, ‘I will kill the witch for a heart, but I do not fear you great wizard, nor will I pretend to.’
Soon enough the tin-man leaves the castle and meets his friends as he tells them what he must do. The scarecrow smiles at the thought and Dorothy tries to contain herself, feeling much more hopeful of getting home with the tin-man helping her kill the witch. Yet the lion cowers, feeling his de
ad eye weep as he whimpers, ‘If I could I’d roar my loudest and scare the wizard so he’d give me courage, but I know what he’ll want from me in return.’ Nodding her head slightly Dorothy’s sure that the lion’s right and crouches down as she strokes his snout. ‘Don’t be scared,’ she tries to comfort, ‘If he wants you to kill the witch at least you’ll be safe with us.’ He looks up at her with a sad eye, rubbing a paw against his face as he huffs and nods his head, licking Dorothy’s hand with, ‘You’re right, but I’m still scared.’
After walking around the busy streets for an hour Dorothy and the others go back to her house, and soon after they arrive the masked servants bring them gifts again; meat for the lion, oil for Tin-man, straw for Scarecrow and food for Dorothy. They eat and rest for a while as the servants entertain them with more stories, and as they’re about to leave a masked girl says:
‘Again you can all sleep under the same roof, and feel free to wander around the city tonight. Though be careful.’
Closing the door on them Dorothy moves into the kitchen where she picks up her pouch of silver and places it in Toto’s bag. Then they walk through the streets as the green night sky spreads over them, unleashing the oddities of the city life. Walking next to the tin-man Dorothy looks at his grim body, monstrous despite his tortured human eyes as she asks, ‘What will you do when you have a heart?’ The cold mechanism replies swiftly without thought, ‘I will try to find my love. I’ve been cold for too long.’ Behind them the scarecrow looks at the lion’s rugged fur, his dishevelled mane and scarred flesh as he points, ‘You don’t look happy, are you in pain?’ The lion huffs, ‘Constantly, my scars are deep. And even though I look fierce I’m scared inside, it’s torture.’ Nodding, the scarecrow’s head falls to its side, curiously asking, ‘Are people afraid of you?’ as the strong animal replies, ‘Yes, haven’t you seen the crowds run away from us?’, ‘I have,’ says the scarecrow, ‘Though I thought it was because of Tin-man, he’s a little shiny but unpleasant to look at.’ The lion laughs, but the tin-man remains silent as Scarecrow grins, ‘I like to look at nice things, my buttons are my best quality.’ With a wide smile along his scarred face the lion asks, ‘How about me, am I unpleasant to look at?’ and the scarecrow shakes his head, ‘Because of your eye and your scars you look sad. But I think you look fluffy, like Toto!’, ‘What’s Toto?’ the lion asks curiously and Scarecrow stretches his stitched mouth, ‘It’s Dorothy’s dog.’ Turning around to the lion the young girl smiles, ‘Yes, I’ll show you later,’ as she realises neither Tin-man nor the lion have seen her little black dog, still it’s good to keep him hidden in his bag, he’s safer that way.
Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5 Page 14
