As they walk through the dark streets Scarecrow spots a woman in the distance, as she waits on a corner and the street light shines brightly on her. His buttons widen, expressing glee as he walks ahead of his friends and looks at the woman’s jewels, glistening slightly. Stretching out a hand to him, unsure of what to say Dorothy keeps quiet and smiles discretely as the tall creepy scarecrow bows to the woman. ‘How are you?’ he asks, ‘You look very shiny,’ and she stumbles for the right words, announcing, ‘Sorry, don’t do scarecrows,’ as the tall man of hay tilts his head, ‘What an odd thing to say.’ Walking toward him Dorothy takes his hand and leads him away, smiling to herself as the scarecrow looks up to a streetlight, watching the flies swarm around it.
Looking through a green window at what seems to be a tavern Dorothy’s intrigued, and her curiosity grows as she leads her friends inside. She’d never been in one before and watches the men and women sitting at their tables, interrupting their drunken rants as they look to the strange guests.
Some spill their drinks and others groan at the sight of the company, expecting them in the streets but not in one of their taverns. Ignoring their fuss the tin-man walks past them, whilst the scarecrow waves his hand saying, ‘Hello,’ to all the gasping faces. Yet the lion, sure the people are afraid of him isn’t so scared here, and instead walks proudly, strutting his solid figure as he looks to a man’s plate to see a hefty steak.
Staring at the meat he approaches the man, stretching so he stands on his hind legs and asks, ‘Are you going to eat that?’ Looking at the lion’s head, the scars spread along his face and the dead eye staring back at him the man mumbles at first and hides under the table. Smiling at the backside of the man the lion eyes his food, lifting a paw to reach for the steak as Dorothy slaps his furry leg. Retracting it and cowering like a cub the lion rests back on all fours, stepping away from the young girl as he mutters, ‘I…well I suppose it was overcooked for me anyway.’ Then looking to the burrowed man’s bottom the lion coyly says, ‘Sorry.’
Walking to a table the tin-man looks down to a man sitting alone, and the metal monster sits next to him, his heavy weight almost breaking the seat as the small man drunk in his swagger smiles at first. Then looking at the tin-man beside him, and to the lion approaching he begs, ‘P…please don’t eat me,’ and the lion sniffs at the air with a faint smirk, ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, you smell gone off.’ Hiccupping, the intoxicated green man says, ‘I think I’ve drunk enough,’ as he stands and looks at the tall grim scarecrow staring down with a smile, ‘Hello!’ Waving a hand back at the scarecrow the man moves along, looking at Dorothy to hear her offer, ‘Please don’t leave because of us.’ He sways slightly with, ‘It’s quite fine you’re…’ and then looking down at her boots he gazes back up at her sweet face to say, ‘Your majesty, um…your highness, no… your witch, oh bugger I’d better go.’
Watching him swagger away Dorothy smiles as they all sit, and a young woman comes to their table. ‘What can I get for you?’ she asks, and the lion licks his lips, ‘I’d like a deer please,’ as she replies, ‘How do you want it cooked?’ Looking at her he grins, ‘I don’t, and can I have a whole one?’ to which she curiously asks, ‘You want a whole deer, to eat here?’ Nodding his head he says shyly, ‘Well I am a lion,’ and she replies, ‘I can see that,’ as Dorothy interrupts with, ‘He’ll have whatever you can fit on a plate, but raw please.’
A little while later the lion sits with a full stomach, rubbing his belly as he smiles at the three empty plates in front of him. Still looking at the animal licking his lips the scarecrow gasps, ‘That was fascinating,’ as the lion says, ‘Dorothy are you sure you’re not hungry?’ to which she wheezes slightly, ‘I’ve lost my appetite.’ After resting for a while longer, and letting the lion’s stomach settle Dorothy looks at the people in the tavern, all keeping their distance and most ignoring the strange guests, though some watch with a greedy glare in their eyes.
With the strong lion giving a fierce yawn Dorothy starts to feel tired too, and even though Scarecrow and the tin-man don’t sleep, the group of friends make their way out of the tavern.
Walking through the shady cobbled streets as thin lights shine on scattered lengths of their path, Dorothy notices a small crowd of men following them. Ignoring it at first she keeps quiet, though concentrates as she occasionally glares over her shoulder at them, assuming they’re just drunk.
Turning a corner, walking for a while then taking another the young girl notices they’re still being followed, and brings it to her friends attention in a whisper as the tin-man sternly replies, ‘I know!’
They keep walking as the lion shakes, terribly worried whilst Dorothy looks over her shoulder to see the three men smiling, waving at her. The tin-man still walks calmly, waiting for an attack as the scarecrow whistles without a worry. Still, they walk home, turning another corner and walking along a dimly lit street as without warning three men appear out of an alleyway ahead of them.
Looking to the gang, then turning quickly Dorothy can see they’re surrounded with three strangers either side as they walk closer. Shouting, ‘What do you want?’ Dorothy bares her teeth in anger as one of them smiles, his sleazy voice echoing through the streets, ‘You’ll see pretty!’ Giving a weak roar to scare them away the lion stands in fear and they laugh, one of them shouting, ‘He’s timid as a cat!’ as the tin-man regrets the mistake of leaving his axe in Dorothy’s room.
The men walk closer, surrounding the strange crowd as they stand still, unsure of what to do until they hear a man scream, ‘Now!’ Rapidly the men charge as one of them attacks Scarecrow, throwing him to the ground as two men grab at Dorothy, their strong hands squeezing against her skin as she struggles to fight them. The scared lion roars as a man comes at him, punching at the beast with a spiked glove. Despite being cowardly his instinct flares as he claws back, mauling him ferociously as another attacks, stabbing at the lion as the blade cuts into his skin, and he runs away scared, leaving his friends.
With Scarecrow struggling to stand the two men grab at Dorothy, trying to hold her arms still as she struggles, breaking a hand free. Scramming at one of them, her nails dig deeply into his face and she tears away a chunk of flesh as the other man punches her in the face, and she falls to the floor. Moving quickly, his frail jagged body twisted from the fall the scarecrow swipes a hand at Dorothy’s attacker, cutting him to the bone as the rusted barbwire holding the scarecrow’s hands together blinds the man.
Looking to the tin-man Dorothy watches three men attack him as the one she wounded joins them. Running to his side she watches his thick spiked gauntlets tear a man in two, then break both of another man’s arms as a sly man holds a knife steadily, thrusting it deeply into the thin layers of metal around the tin-man’s chest. He falls to his knees in pain. Dorothy runs to the attacker as he stabs her friend again, only to be thrown to the floor as the other man starts to cut at the tin man, piercing the thin metal as blood pours from the wounds. The tin-man roars, and despite the pain he struggles to his feet, flailing a forceful hand as he snaps one man’s neck and reaches for the other.
Grabbing tightly at his attacker’s throat the wounded tin-man falls back to his knees, keeping the grip firm as he looks down at the man, as suffering human eyes lie imbedded in an iron-monster’s head. ‘What do you want?’ he roars, and the attacker chokes, spits out blood as the tin-man’s vice-like grip tightens and he stares at his victim almost with a smile.
Helping Dorothy from the floor the scarecrow watches the tin-man, looks at his deep wounds as he holds the man, his cackling voice uttering, ‘You don’t know how much your metal’s worth!’ Without hesitation the tin-man roars, grabbing at the man’s head with his other hand as he twists the skull from its neck, tearing his head from his shoulder like it’s nothing more than flicking the head from a flower. The blood pours through the street and the tin-man groans, stretching a hand out to his friends, chiselling, ‘Help!’ as the wounded lion lies bleeding in an a
lleyway.
Soon the wizard’s servants come to the aid of the strange friends; stitching the lion’s deep wound, fixing the scarecrow and trying to stop the swelling on Dorothy’s face. Though none are in more pain than the tin-man, as the servants have to solder his wounds; melting his thin metal and flesh, fusing them to seal the tin.
They all lie awake for many hours, and when their wounds are treated they join the tin-man in the cold damp workshop. The cowardly lion cries, ‘I’m sorry, so sorry I’m a coward,’ and Dorothy simply strokes him, wrapping him in a thick blanket as she looks at the new scar stretching along his side. Soon he falls asleep on the floor, and Dorothy lies on the cold metal workbench beside the tin-man, gently with her arms around him as trickles of blood drip from his eyes, and she asks, ‘Does it still hurt?’ His grim mouth moans, ‘It’s agony,’ as she wipes the blood from his cheeks and falls asleep holding his cold metal. Lying awake, with nothing to do but suffer through the night the tin-man rests with his eyes open, feeling Dorothy beside him as the scarecrow stands, looking to the tortured tin-man as his burlap sack frowns, ‘This isn’t good to see.’
22
Morning had passed and the strange friends still rest in the windowless workshop, as cold and dark as it had been all night.
Dorothy’s skin feels chilled, even her eyelids icy and almost too heavy to open. She looks to the tin-man as he breathes heavily, his tortured eyes staring at the ceiling, caked with blood at the rims. Yawning slightly Dorothy can feel the bruise along her face stretch, as she imagines the burst vessels tanned a deep red. She touches it lightly with a cringe and opens her mouth widely to feel a severe crack in her jaw.
Looking at the scarecrow she watches his sad smile peer back through the darkness, effortlessly waving at her as she slides her body off the workbench. Stepping over the lion gently Dorothy watches his tired heavy breath and moves to the door, opening it a crack as the light beams a faint line on her face, warming the cold skin.
Within the hour a masked servant comes to the workshop, ready to escort the lion to the wizard’s castle. After a long stretch and a hungry yawn the lion walks through the cobbled city begrudgingly, nervous of the passers-by, even children as he walks past the street where he was attacked last night. His back arches and he bares his thick white teeth, watching people as they wash away the blood spread along the cobbled bricks.
At the bottom of the hill the cowardly lion’s still struck with fear, worried that the wizard will know he killed a man last night, and even worse, he’ll want him to kill the witch. As his paws press into the soil of the graveyard hill he re-enacts his attack, though not the one inflicted upon him, he had suffered far worse at the hands of Mr Jack. Instead he thinks of how he mauled the man last night, his claws tearing away chunks of flesh like it were another animal in the forest. Although he doesn’t have the courage to admit it the lion smiles inside, proud of himself for fighting back, though so ashamed of leaving his friends behind that he tries not to think of it anymore. With a snarl he whimpers, ‘C…coward!’ to himself as he walks up the hill and notices a cart of bodies to his right, the servants throwing them in a single grave one by one, the attackers from last night.
At the top of the hill the cowardly lion cautiously walks between the guards, his sharp teeth on show to make them think he’s strong. Yet his body shakes as he walks through the large doors, stepping into the darkness as he takes a few paces and snivels, ‘Don’t need courage, don’t need courage.’ Turning his back, ready to leave the dark castle the lion winces as the large doors close behind him, and he claws at the wood unable to open it. Reluctantly moving through the darkness he finally finds himself in the grand courtroom, but the beautiful emerald marble doesn’t catch his eye, instead he keeps his distance from the disturbing puppets, watching their carved bodies keenly. Even though they’re silent he’s still cautious, unsure if they’re alive or not as he looks past them at the small door. Sure that’s where he must go he waits, and his eyes flicker from left to right as he watches the seated company, whose expressions change with the blink of an eye to taunt the animal. His body tenses, the thick legs ready to run as the silence lingers, and his eyes widen as the small door opens quietly. Bounding on all fours, he dashes past the seated folk as fast as he can, running into the wizards throne room without thinking as he struggles to stop. Sliding along the emerald marble at first he digs his claws into the ground to slow himself, standing on all fours and looking out to an empty throne.
With no sign of the wizard, the lion quickly begins to walk backwards, heading toward the door, as rapidly a circle of flames bursts through the floor. Trapping the cowardly lion in the centre he cowers, trembling as he looks up to the circle wall, at least eight feet high as he feels the heat against his skin. Whimpering, the lion closes his eyes, burying his head between his paws as a scolding voice spreads along the fire:
‘I am Oz, the great and wonderful, the beginning and the end. I have many names and faces, what do you want from me?’
The lion doesn’t answer, petrified he simply keeps his head cowered, shaking as the flames burst with strength, and the wizard’s voice commands:
‘Answer me beast! What do you want?’
Feeling a lump in his throat and the muscles tense in his neck, his dead eye weeps as he looks to the flames, reminding him of the burns he’d suffered at the hands of Mr Jack. His deep voice breaks the lion, and the animal begs, ‘Courage, so I can be strong, like…like a lion should.’
The wizard’s voice stings in response, his wall of fire unfurling beautiful deadly flames as they taunt the lion:
‘I will grant you courage, but you must do something for me in return. You must join the others and kill Outika, the witch of the west. She must die and you will bring me her heart, or you will forever be a coward, and my flames will be your prison. Do you understand?’’
The lion cowers again, his eyes tightly shut as he whines, ‘Y…yes!’ Trapped within the fire he feels the heat press against him, and as quickly as the air burst into flames the wall holding him disperses, vanishing as he opens his eyes and runs away. Charging though the castle, clawing at the large doors, they open and he sprints down the hill with tremendous speed. Making his way to the workshop, he runs past the servant who was supposed to guide him, refusing to stop until he finds his friends. Bursting into the small shed he startles Dorothy and hides in a corner, licking at odd patches of fur where the fire had burnt him. Mumbling to himself at first he groans, ‘He…he wants the witch’s heart as proof,’ trembling on the floor in fear.
Still recovering, lying still on the metal bench the tin-man’s voice scrapes, ‘We must go west, toward the land of the winkies,’ as Dorothy remembers what Bopeia told her of the winkies. She had been warned that they’re an evil race made by Outika, their teeth and fingers razor sharp and eyes sewn shut. The good witch told her not to go near one, not even to go near their land in the west, but the young girl knows that she must. She has to go west and kill the wicked witch for the wizard, otherwise she’ll never get home, and she will have to suffer his wrath.
Throughout the remainder of the day Dorothy and Scarecrow prepare for the journey ahead of them as the lion and Tin-man rest their wounds. Knowing they’ll set off early in the morning Dorothy sneaks into a tavern, finding herself in the kitchen as she searches for food.
She knows that if she had asked the wizard he may have let her take as much as she wants, but the young girl didn’t want to disturb him for something so small. So she fills her basket with fruit and cooked meat, finding a butcher’s knife as she holds it in her hand, feeling the cold steel before placing it in the wicker basket. Then she joins Scarecrow, sharpening the tin-man’s axe on a myrtle grindstone whilst he fills a can with oil. Finally they stuff the scarecrow with hay, finding a pitchfork as he holds it in his hand, forgetting he’d held one before as he admires the thin harlequin green spikes and smiles, ‘How shiny!’
Again, in the workshop at night Dorothy re
sts on the workbench next to Tin-man, as the lion sleeps on the floor and Scarecrow stands next to her. Wide awake and trying to think of a way to comfort her friend she gently takes Toto from his bag and ignores the scarecrow’s excited, ‘Oh boy!’ as she places him on the tin-man’s chest. Forcing a smile she can imagine how little her wounded friend cares, but still she tries to lift his spirits with, ‘This is Toto, I don’t think you’ve met him yet. He’s a friendly little dog and he doesn’t bite, do you like him?’ Barely able to move and looking up to the toy dog as if it had pounced on him, pinning him to the table Tin-man groans, ‘He’s tiny.’ Then he squints, looking into the dog’s big round plastic eyes as he says, ‘He keeps staring at me.’ Dorothy smiles and Scarecrow quickly bursts, ‘That’s because he likes to see things, like me, plastic eyes are close to buttons y’know!’ His voice almost loud enough to wake the snoring lion Dorothy whispers, ‘Shhh!’ and a random thought makes a look of worry slowly spread along her face. Noticing the change Scarecrow asks, ‘What’s wrong?’ and she looks up to his twisted expression with a lump in her throat, whispering, ‘I’m scared.’ Holding her hand tightly his thin mouth smiles, stretching creepily along his face as his wide buttons stare, ‘Don’t be scared, we’ll look after you, Toto too.’ Trying to smile back at him Dorothy soon feels comforted by her friends, and she watches the tin-man stare at the ceiling, pinned to the table by Toto. Though she doesn’t know that although his wounds are almost healed inside he’s tortured, and all he can think of is his love, wondering where she is now, and if she’s even alive.
Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5 Page 15
