The Last Days of Dorothy
Dorothy Henslow sat in the living room of her Florida retirement home, awaiting the arrival of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren from California. She found it hard to believe that her oldest child was past the age of seventy and her youngest was two years shy of retirement age. Even more astounding, she had a great-grandchild who was about to graduate college.
A widow whose husband died twenty-three years earlier, Dorothy was going to celebrate her one-hundredth birthday in a few days' time. That was why the entire Henslow family was making the trip to Boca Raton, no doubt planning on spending time in Miami while they were in Florida.
"And why not?" the elderly woman asked herself. "Let them take advantage of the warm sunshine and the beautiful beaches."
Days away from turning a century old, Dorothy temporarily forgot that California had its fair share of sunny weather and sandy beaches.
"It's not anything like the Midwest farm that I grew up on," she said, recalling the rolling wheat fields of the Great Plains.
Reminiscences of her childhood home brought to mind Uncle Henry and Aunt Em who had raised her. They had been gone so long that she had to refer to her photograph album in order to remember what they looked like. Even Zeke Henslow's features were fading from her memory, and she had been married to him for fifty-six years—more than half her life.
While Dorothy was wondering where all those years had gone, a minivan pulled into her driveway soon followed by two more. The Henslow progeny, their spouses, their children and their grandchildren began piling out of the air-conditioned vehicles, anxious to hurry into the air-conditioned house. For many of Dorothy's kin, their first impression of Florida was its high humidity.
During the five days her family stayed in Boca Raton, Dorothy happily endured a near constant stream of people going in and out of her one-bedroom home. Although they were staying in a nearby hotel, her children wanted to see as much of their mother as possible. This was hardly surprising since, in all probability, it would be their last opportunity to do so. The grandchildren and great-grandchildren made frequent appearances as well, although they also made the three-hour drive to visit Disney World in Orlando.
On Saturday evening, the night before the visitors were to fly back to the West Coast, there was a birthday party held in Dorothy's honor at the Waldorf. At the end of the evening, while the waitress was getting the coffee and desserts, Zeke, Jr., the oldest of her children, presented her with a gift.
"We all chipped in and bought this for you," he announced.
His mother removed the blue foil wrapping paper that covered a jeweler's box. Inside was an emerald necklace.
"Oh, how beautiful!" Dorothy exclaimed.
"I seem to remember you once having told me you liked emeralds," Harriet, her youngest child and only daughter, said.
"It's absolutely gorgeous!" the old woman cried, unable to recall ever having expressed a preference for one gemstone over another.
The party ended at eleven—early for most members of the family but late for the hundred-year-old matriarch.
As Dorothy sat in the back seat of her son's rental vehicle and listened to everyone's chatter, she tried not to think that the next time they would be together would be for her funeral.
"I mustn't be so morbid," she told herself.
Suddenly, Zeke leaned forward and turned up the volume on the car radio.
"Did you hear that?" he called to those sitting in the back seat.
"Hear what?" his wife, Patty, asked.
"The National Weather Service has issued a hurricane warning for Dade, Broward and Palm Beach Counties."
"That's you, Grandma!" Dickie, the youngest grandchild, exclaimed.
"Is there somewhere you can go?" Zeke asked. "A shelter of some kind?"
"Don't be silly! This is southern Florida. If I had to go to a shelter every time I heard a hurricane was about to hit, I'd never be at home."
"You can't take these warnings lightly," her daughter-in-law argued, "not after Katrina."
"You mustn't worry," Dorothy persisted. "I've survived hurricanes in the past. Hell, when I was a girl, I had a cyclone demolish the house around me, and I lived to tell about it. Besides, if the weather gets too bad, the local police always evacuate the senior citizens."
Moments later Zeke pulled into his mother's driveway. When the elderly woman exited the minivan, her son and his family got out, too. One by one they hugged and kissed her. It did not escape Dorothy's attention that the hugs were tighter and lasted longer than normal, and the lips that kissed her lingered more than usual.
They know that this is it, she thought.
"Have a safe flight," she said cheerfully. "Thank you all so much for the lovely birthday."
"No," her son said. "It is we who should thank you. You ...."
Zeke turned his head, not wanting his mother to see his tears. Words did not come to her, so she simply squeezed his arm.
"I love you, Mom," he said.
"You better go now. You have an early flight tomorrow."
Dorothy smiled, said a final goodbye and then walked into her house.
The following morning, she woke at seven. Her first thought was of her loved ones.
"They ought to be taking off for California soon."
Although she had never been in an airplane, the old woman suddenly imagined herself flying over the flat farmland of Kansas. In her mind she saw clapboard houses, wooden barns, grain silos and fertile fields.
When she walked out into the kitchen, she had to turn the overhead light on. The sky outside the window was slate gray in color, an indication that a storm was imminent.
"I hope their flight isn't delayed."
As she waited for the water in her kettle to boil, Dorothy walked into the bedroom, removed the emerald pendant from the jeweler's box and put it on her neck. For a moment she imagined an entire city whose green buildings looked as though they were made of emeralds. She laughed and wondered why her imagination was suddenly so active.
"I suppose at my age I've got the right to be fanciful."
While she sat at the kitchen table, drinking her coffee, she watched the storm brewing through her window. The whistling wind was bending the trees and snapping off branches.
"It's a twister!"
"Who said that? Where did that voice come from?"
Just moments before Hurricane Frank descended upon the retirement community, a door to Dorothy's memory opened.
"It's happening again! I'm going back!"
There was a sudden, earsplitting sound as the small, one-story house was ripped from its foundation, lifted high into the air and transported to the Land of Oz.
* * *
"I do hope I didn't kill any wicked witches this time!" Dorothy exclaimed as she felt the house hit the ground with a forceful thud.
When she looked through her kitchen window, the first thing she noticed was the road she had landed on. It was made of yellow bricks. In the distance, she could see the tall spires of Emerald City.
"It's just as I remember it!"
Dorothy did not question why those memories, which had not surfaced for over eighty years, would suddenly be so strong. At a hundred years old, she had no time to wait for answers.
"I wonder if any of my old friends are still here."
She felt the familiar twinges of arthritis as she walked to the front door of her house. Yet when she opened it and stepped over the threshold, a remarkable transformation occurred. On one side of the door, she was an old woman; on the other, she was a little girl again.
"I can't believe it!" Dorothy cried as she looked down and saw her young body, clothed in a blue and white gingham pinafore.
With the speed and grace of youth, she ran down the Yellow Brick Road toward Emerald City, her pigtails flapping behind her.
"It's Dorothy!" the gatekeeper cried with delight upon seeing her.
The moment the green gate was opened, a crowd of people surrounded her. One of the Winged Monkeys—reformed in his ways since the Wicked Witch's death—flew to all corners of the city to spread the news.
Over the noise of the welcoming crowd, a trumpet announced the arrival of one of Emerald City's three rulers: the Minister of State.
"Dorothy!" Scarecrow exclaimed. "You haven't aged a day! Is that normal in Kansas?"
"No. In fact, in Florida—where I live now—I'm a very old woman. It's only since I've returned to Oz that I'm young again."
As Dorothy examined Scarecrow, she noticed that he, like Emerald City itself, had changed.
This place reminds me of Las Vegas, she thought, seeing all the buildings decked out with flashing neon green lights, glitz and glamour.
"I don't remember this place being so fancy," she said.
"It wasn't, but thanks to Tin Man, we've been very prosperous," Scarecrow clarified.
"That explains the way you're dressed. No more patches, I see. You're decked out in velvet and silk. And there's not a single piece of straw hanging out."
"I can't very well go around looking like a beggar. I'm a respected politician now. In fact, I'm writing my memoirs."
"And to think, when we first met, you didn't have a brain."
There was another trumpet blast, and the crowd cleared the way for a grand carriage, plated in silver and decorated with emeralds, pulled by not one but two green horses. Dorothy's jaw dropped in surprise when a footman opened the carriage door, and its passenger stepped out. Although he still went by the humble name of Tin Man, Oz's Minister of Finance bore no resemblance to the rusted woodsman Dorothy and Scarecrow met on their journey along the Yellow Brick Road.
"Dotty, Baby!" the gold-plated man exclaimed and kissed the girl on both cheeks. "Don't you look gorgeous!"
"I could say the same thing about you. Do you still have the heart the Wizard gave you?"
"That turned out to be nothing but velvet and sawdust. Not long after you returned to Kansas, I had a mechanical heart made to replace it. When I got tired of winding that one up, I had someone make me an electronic one, but the batteries kept running down. It took too much time to replace them, and time is money! Now I have a heart made of platinum and emeralds. It doesn't tick, but it's a great fashion accessory."
Dorothy frowned as she mentally compared Tin Man to wealthy men from her homeland. They thought only of money, too, and most of them seemed not to have a heart.
A third trumpet blast heralded the arrival of Cowardly Lion. He marched rather than walked up to his former friend.
"My goodness!" a stunned Dorothy exclaimed. "You changed most of all."
His lion's fur had silvered with age, and his once-curly mane was cut very short in a military fashion. On his chest were at least a dozen medals, given to him by the grateful people of Oz.
"Dorothy! How did you get here?" Oz's Minister of Defense inquired.
"I was sitting in my house when a hurricane lifted it off its foundation, blew it over the rainbow and deposited it on the Yellow Brick Road."
General Lion—the name by which the residents of Oz referred to him—barked an order to his aide, a zebra with green and brown stripes in a pattern similar to military camouflage.
"Have my advisors determine the feasibility of constructing a wall around Emerald City. We must do something about immigration. It's bad enough we have to put up with Munchkins, Winkies and Flying Monkeys. We can't have people in houses dropping in all the time."
"You must be tired after your trip," Scarecrow said. "Why don't the four of us go up to my office and have something to eat?"
"Why bring Dorothy to your boring office?" Tin Man objected. "Let's go to my penthouse instead. It's much more comfortable."
"But my bunker is much safer," Lion objected. "You can't be too careful. You never know if a house will fall out of the sky and land on us."
Tin Man, like most men of great wealth, managed to get his way over his political and military friends.
"Come on, Dotty. Let's take my carriage," Tin Man offered, instructing his liveried footman to open the door and reveal the lavish green interior.
* * *
The Minister of Finance's penthouse was every bit as gaudy and extravagant as his carriage. Everywhere Dorothy looked, she saw gold plating and emeralds as well as lush velvets, silks and brocades. As though they had been expecting company, the cooks prepared a sumptuous repast.
"You must try the Munchkin golden custard," Tin Man declared. "When it comes to rich desserts, those little people can't be beat!"
"I'll have some Winkie poppy wine," Lion said. "But not too much. I must keep my wits about me should an invasion of flying houses occur."
Dorothy had just bitten into a crisp green apple cake when the lion's aide barged into the room.
"General," the zebra cried, "there's been an attack on our southern border!"
"Not another house?"
"No, sir. It's Zerelda. She's sent her army of Matchstick Men to set fire to the Weeping Willow Forest."
Lion left his unfinished glass of poppy wine on the gold table and hurried out the door with his aide.
"Who is Zerelda?" Dorothy asked.
Scarecrow, who was considered by many—especially himself—the smartest being in Oz, answered, "The Witch of the South."
"Another witch?"
"With the witches of the East and West destroyed and Glinda's power failing, Zerelda wants to take over all of Oz."
"What's wrong with Glinda?"
"Come with me to the Ministry of State, and I'll show you."
Although nowhere near as ornate as Tin Man's penthouse, Scarecrow's office was nonetheless impressive. Its walls were just as green, its furnishings just as costly and finely made.
The Minister of State went directly to a cabinet on the side wall and opened the door. Inside was a ball of light, the size of a Kansas basketball, which glowed a deep sapphire blue.
"Glinda," Scarecrow said in a voice loud enough for the ailing sorceress could hear. "I have good news and bad news for you. The bad news is your sister to the south is on the attack. The good news is that Dorothy has come back to Oz, and if there's anyone who knows how to take out a bad witch, it's Dorothy."
The blue orb coalesced, and Glinda appeared. However, the Witch of the North was no taller than a Barbie doll. Dressed in a full, sweeping gown that sparkled with sapphires, she even looked as though one of Mattel's fashion designers had dressed her.
"Dorothy!" the diminutive witch exclaimed. "After trying so hard to go home to Kansas, you've returned to us!"
"I don't know that I had any choice in the matter. Still, I'm glad to see you all again."
"Apparently, you've come back at just the right time. We're in need of your wicked witch elimination services again."
"I can't drop a house on her like I did the Witch of the East, even though I seem to have a history of traveling in falling buildings. Will she melt like the Witch of the West?"
"I doubt it," Glinda replied. "She's much more resilient than that."
"What can I do then?"
While Glinda took the time to consider Dorothy's question, the sparkle in her gown dimmed, and she seemed to shrink even further in size.
"I don't know," she finally admitted, with a pained, tired voice. "I'm afraid you'll have to ask the Wizard that question."
"The Wizard?" Scarecrow echoed with surprise. "But he was killed when his flying balloon crashed into the Emerald Mountains."
"That is why you must seek him in the Land of the Dead."
"How do I get there?" asked Dorothy, who, having lived in a Florida retirement home for thirty-five years, was eager for an adventure.
"Just follow the Green Brick Road."
"What?" Scarecrow asked. "Your voice is so faint, I can barely hear you."
Glinda did not answer. She had once again become a ball of blue light, one that had a noticeably fainter glow.
"I heard her," Dorothy said. "She told us to follow the Green Brick Road."
* * *
The following day Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion stood at the rarely used rear gate of Emerald City. Inside a velvet-lined gold box with an emerald-studded handle rested an ailing Glinda. Tin Man, the strongest of the four, volunteered to carry the box, although it did not weigh much.
The Minister of Defense stood before a map of Oz and spoke to the others as though he were addressing his troops.
"This is Emerald City. As you can see, we are in the eastern quadrant of Oz, close to the center. Here is the Yellow Brick Road that leads west, all the way to Munchkin Land where Dorothy first entered Oz. Zerelda is approaching from Ruby City in the south along the Red Brick Road. We'll be heading east."
Lion pointed to an area in the map that lacked details.
"This area is largely unexplored. If we had time, I would send out a reconnaissance team, but we don't."
The general rolled up his map, handed it to the zebra and then gave the order to open the gate, revealing a dense, green forest landscape. After a moment's hesitation, Dorothy took the first step onto the Green Brick Road.
One by one, the ministers of Oz followed her. The last to leave the confines of Emerald City was Lion who insisted on giving last minute orders to his green-and-brown-striped aide, who was left behind to defend the city in the general's absence.
"I still think we ought to take my carriage," Tin Man complained as he looked at the long stretch of road before them.
"I don't think that's wise," Scarecrow said. "We don't have precise knowledge of the topography of the area."
As the spritely Dorothy led the way with Scarecrow only two steps behind, Lion and Tin Man struggled to keep up. Lion was the only one whose years—not to mention his many medals—hindered his progress whereas Tin Man was weighed down by his heavy gold and emerald exterior. He could move a lot quicker when he was made of tin.
They had been walking, by Dorothy's estimation, for six hours when she noticed that not only was the road becoming narrower but the trees were becoming taller and denser. The top most branches bent over the Green Brick Road, creating a tunnel-like environment. With the sun blocked out, it became progressively darker. Soon it was necessary for Tin Man to lead the way, holding Glinda in front of him so that her glow could serve as a lantern.
"Look!" Dorothy suddenly cried, just as the trees squeezed in on them to the point where her three companions had to walk in a crouching position. "There's a light up ahead. We must be coming to the end of the forest."
Rather than illuminate their path, the light perversely made their surroundings darker. Not even Glinda's beam could penetrate the blackness.
"What was that?" Scarecrow cried as something flew past his face, its wings brushing his forehead.
Moments later, something fat and furry scrambled over Dorothy's foot.
"I don't like this place," she announced, imagining all sorts of creatures, from bats and spiders to snakes and vultures, hiding in the dark.
The closer they got to the light, the more difficult it was for them to see. They tried to avert their eyes by looking to the side or at the bricks of the road, but the beam was blinding. Dorothy covered her face with her hand and peeked through the slits of her fingers.
Lion, now bravely leading the pack of travelers, stopped when he felt the heat of the light warm his fur. Despite his well-known courage, he was reluctant to draw any closer for fear of being burned.
"A dead end!" Tin Man exclaimed.
"No," Dorothy corrected him. "We have to go through the light."
"This could be a trap," Scarecrow warned, thinking how easily his straw could catch fire. "This looks like something Zerelda might do."
Dorothy, who had lived in the Sunshine State for close to half a century, was not intimidated by either the heat or the light. She fearlessly walked up to the glowing boundary, reached out her arm and put her hand out to touch it. Her fingers easily slipped through. Feeling no pain, just an odd tickling sensation, she put her hand in all the way to the elbow and then to her shoulder.
"I think I found the other side," she announced, as a cool breeze blew on her hand. "I suppose there's only one way to find out."
She raised her right foot and stepped through into another world of perpetual night, but one blessed with open sky and no trees to impede their progress.
"Dorothy?" Scarecrow called from the other side. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Come on through. There's nothing to be afraid of."
The no-longer-cowardly Lion was the next to come through, followed by Tin Man and finally, bringing up the rear, Scarecrow.
"Look!" Dorothy cried, pointing to the ground. "The bricks are white, not green. That will make the road easier to see."
Although there was no moon—this wasn't Earth, after all, but a land beyond the rainbow—there were thousands of small pixie-like fairies that lit up like fireflies and illuminated their way.
"Too bad Oz doesn't believe in road signs," Dorothy said as he continued her journey along the White Brick Road. "It would be nice to know how far we have to travel yet before we reach the Land of the Dead."
As though in reply to her words, she heard a familiar barking sound.
"Toto?" she cried with excitement.
Though black in life, now that he was dead, Dorothy's former pet was white in color. Thrilled to see his former owner, the little dog jumped into her arms and licked her face. Although Toto had died in Kansas and not Oz, Dorothy did not question his appearance any more than she questioned flying houses, wicked witches, talking scarecrows or any of the other wondrous things she encountered on this side of the rainbow.
They had not gone far when they encountered another familiar face. The Wizard, like Toto, was white in color.
"What are you doing here?" he inquired with great surprise. "You're obviously not dead."
"Glinda sent us," Tin Man replied, holding up the box in which the Witch of the North slept.
"She doesn't have much time left," the wraithlike Wizard said. "Is that why you brought her here?"
"No. We've come to ask for your help," Dorothy explained. "The Witch of the South is on her way to Emerald City."
"Zerelda? That doesn't sound good."
"She'll destroy everything in her path," Tin Man added.
"You must tell us how we can defeat her," Dorothy pleaded.
"You can't!"
"I told you he was an old humbug!" Scarecrow said with disgust.
"This whole journey was a waste of time," Tin Man agreed.
"You should let me take care of Zerelda," Lion exclaimed. "I'll show her who's running things in Emerald City."
"Now wait a minute," the Wizard said defensively. "Let me explain. Zerelda's magic is extremely potent whereas Glinda's is on the wane. It would take the combined power of the witches of the North, East and West to defeat their sister in the South."
"Great!" Scarecrow exclaimed. "The witches of the East and West are both dead."
"That's what weakened them. You could hardly expect a witch's power to be at its peak after you drop a house on her."
"But those witches were both wicked," Dorothy argued. "Wouldn't they be more likely to join forces with Zerelda rather than Glinda the Good?"
"At one point, all four of Oz's witches were good."
"What happened to them?"
The Wizard shrugged his shoulders and answered, "Witches are not immune to the same evils that tempt men: greed, envy, lust for power. But you needn't worry either one of them will side with Zerelda now."
"Why not?" Tin Man asked.
"Because they're like me," the Wizard laughed. "A shadow of what they once were. What have ghosts got to be greedy about? What are spirits envious of—except maybe the living?"
"So you think they'll help us?" Dorothy asked.
"Let's go ask them."
After a short journey along the White Brick Road, the group of travelers stopped in front of twin marble structures that resembled mausoleums. One faced toward the East, the other in the opposite direction. The Wizard put two fingers in his mouth and blew. The shrill whistle resulted in the door of the west-facing structure being thrown open. When she stepped over the threshold and saw Dorothy and her friends gathered outside, the Witch of the West shrieked.
"You!"
Her wails woke up her sister, who had been sleeping in the east-facing structure.
"What are you carrying on about?" the Witch of the East asked angrily.
"It's her! It's Dorothy!"
"Dorothy? You don't mean the one who travels in a house, do you?"
"The very same."
"I've got a bone to pick with that one!"
"Ladies, ladies," the Wizard interrupted. "Enough bickering. You've got work to do."
"What are talking about?" the Witch of the West asked. "And what are you doing in the company of a known felon?"
"It's not Dorothy you need fear. At this moment, Zerelda is marching toward Emerald City."
The two witches, shimmering white in the moonlight, looked at each other in surprise.
"Why come to us?" the Witch of the East demanded to know. "Glinda will stop her."
Tin Man lifted the carrier in which the ailing Witch of the North was fitfully sleeping.
"She's hardly in any shape to do battle with a powerful enemy," the Minister of Finance said.
"There is only one way to stop your sister to the South," the Wizard declared. "You two must come with us to Sapphire City."
"Let us get our brooms, and we'll be right with you," the Witch of the West told him.
"There's no need to fly. I know a shortcut," the Wizard said and led them to a marble arch, similar in appearance to the Arc de Triomphe in Paris but much smaller in size.
Within moments of stepping through the magic portal, Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion and the ghosts of Toto, the Wizard and the two wicked witches were transported to Emerald City.
* * *
Inclined to celebrate any major or minor event in their lives, the residents of Emerald City would normally have thrown a party or parade or both in honor of the Wizard's return. However, news of Zerelda's approach dampened their exuberant spirits.
"Her army of Matchstick Men is destroying everything in its path," Lion's zebra aide informed them.
"We should get a good night's sleep and start out for Sapphire City first thing in the morning," Scarecrow suggested.
The next day Dorothy and her companions—both living and dead—met at the northern gate of Emerald City. With only a minimal amount of fanfare, the gates were opened and the travelers embarked on their journey, this time along the Blue Brick Road.
Unlike the Green Brick Road that led them through dense, unpopulated forestland, the blue route went through areas of Oz populated by creatures as fantastic as those Dorothy found in the west on her journey over the rainbow.
The first people they encountered were the Clock Watchers. These people, taller than Munchkins but shorter than humans, were industrious beings. No matter what job they did—be it plowing a field, chopping a tree, building a house or baking bread—they worked at a hectic pace, always glancing at the timepieces they carried, always fearful that they would fall behind a strict, self-imposed schedule. A giant grandfather's clock stood in the center of their village, sternly looking down at the Clock Watchers, making sure they kept up their frantic pace with words of both warning and encouragement.
"Time is precious," Grandfather called out in his booming voice. "You mustn't waste it."
Not even the appearance of the ghosts caused the busy people to slow their pace.
"I can't imagine why they are in such a rush," Dorothy said as a carpenter hammered a series of nails into a board with lightning speed.
"Time is fleeting," Grandfather shouted. "I can feel my minute hand nearing the top of my head."
As the large clock chimed the hour, all the Clock Watchers referred to their timepieces—some in need of adjustment—making sure they were in sync.
"Make haste! Make haste!" Grandfather cried.
The travelers from Emerald City took his advice and continued on their journey north.
The next several days took Dorothy and her friends through a field of talking flowers, past a pond of flying musical fish and a castle populated by the Scribes, a dozen old men who were attempting to compile a detailed history of Oz. When they observed the travelers through their tower window, the old men ran out to the Blue Brick Road and surrounded them.
"You're Dorothy Gale!" one Scribe cried. "Chapter 1,936 is about how you killed the Wicked Witch of the East with your house."
The ghost of said witch frowned at the memory, but said nothing.
"Chapter 1,937 is about your meeting Glinda in Munchkin Land. Chapter 1,938 ...."
"I'm sorry," Dorothy interrupted him. "As much as I'm flattered by being included in your history, my friends and I are on an important mission to save Oz."
Upon hearing this, another of the old men grabbed his quill and cried, "I must write that down."
"I thought you were writing about history," Scarecrow said, "not current events."
"What is current one moment is history the next."
Dorothy wondered if before they moved into the tower, the Scribes were Clock Watchers.
Although Lion would have liked to stay and rest his weary old bones, he knew he should not delay his mission. The Minister of Defense ordered the old men to stand aside so that he and his companions could be on their way.
"Oh, yes, of course. Good luck to you all," the head Scribe replied, stepping aside and pointing to a large telescope on top of the tower roof. "We'll be watching you."
"And recording your actions for posterity," another old man added.
The others did not speak; they were too busy scribbling on thick pads of paper with quills.
The further north the travelers journeyed, the colder the temperatures became and the less populated the countryside. Eventually, they passed through the last inhabited village on the Blue Brick Road, one inhabited by oversized, willowy women made of a substance that resembled parchment. Like the paper dolls Dorothy played with as a child, they seemed to have only two dimensions: height and width, their depth being so minimal, it could not be properly measured. These delicate creatures neither spoke nor seemed to hear when others talked to them. It was as though they were oblivious to their surroundings.
"Do you think they're alive?" Tin Man asked Scarecrow, deferring to his friend's intelligence.
"They're certainly capable of movement," the straw man replied.
The paper-like women were not only able to move, but they never stopped! These lithe ladies danced ceaselessly. Aided by the gentle breezes that blew from the Sapphire Mountain, they performed a never-ending ballet. Their dance had a strange effect on the living: they became bewitched by the graceful movements. Thankfully, the dead were immune to the enchantment.
"We can't stay here any longer," the ghostly Wizard warned, rousting the dancers' attentive audience. "We've got to press on to Sapphire City."
* * *
"Watch your step," Lion cautioned. "The road is icy."
Dorothy nodded her head, unable to speak because her teeth were chattering.
Although Sapphire Mountain was visible in the distance, it was still a full day's journey to the city that was nestled at its base.
"We need to get help for Dorothy," Scarecrow whispered to Tin Man.
Neither of them were bothered by the intensely cold temperatures, nor was Lion who kept warm beneath his thick mane of fur that had re-grown during their travels. Dorothy, however, although existing in an altered state—one that changed from an old woman to a young girl—was still human and in danger of freezing to death.
"I'd gladly give her my nice new jacket," Scarecrow said, "but then I'd have nothing to keep my straw together."
"Maybe we could convince Lion to allow us to cut off some of his fur. Then we can weave it together and make a sweater," Tin Man suggested.
"That would take too long. We'd have another ghost on her hands by the time we were finished."
Glinda, who had been sleeping since the group left Emerald City, stirred in her carrier.
"Put me on Dorothy's shoulder," she ordered. "I will curl up around her neck and keep her warm."
Although the breath of the dying witch kept the girl's body temperature in the safe range, it was not able to completely ease her discomfort.
"I'll b-be g-glad w-when we g-get th-there," Dorothy said, shivering from the cold.
Despite the urgency to reach Sapphire City, they could not help admiring the beauty of the landscape. Snow and ice covered everything, turning ordinary rocks, trees and streams into fascinating sculptures of glittering white snow and iridescent crystal ice.
"See that spire at the bottom of the mountain?" the Wizard asked. "That's Sapphire City."
Dorothy squinted her eyes, saw that the city was still far in the distance and groaned.
"Don't worry, my dear," Glinda whispered in her ear. "Help is on the way."
Moments later, a magnificent sled, fit for a king—or, more accurately, the powerful Witch of the North—was racing toward them, over the snow-covered plain. Even as accustomed as she had become to seeing bizarre and unusual sights in Oz, Dorothy was still amazed by the horses that pulled the sled. They were made of ice and yet moved with a fluid agility of water, as though they were constantly melting and refreezing with every motion of their bodies.
After Lion helped Dorothy into the sled and wrapped her in a warm blanket that had been thoughtfully provided for that purpose, he, Tin Man and Scarecrow climbed up and joined her in the stunning sapphire-laden vehicle. Once everyone was seated, the four Ice Horses galloped away, leaving the ghosts to follow in their wake.
Everything in Sapphire City gleamed with the richest shade of blue imaginable. Its opulence surpassed even that of Emerald City. Dorothy was delighted that despite the ice and snow outside the gates, the temperatures inside the city were mild.
The joyous welcome the guests received was cut short when the mayor of the city learned of Glinda's illness. The Witch of the North was immediately taken to the infirmary where Sapphire City's finest doctors would restore her strength. While Glinda convalesced, Dorothy and her companions were encouraged to rest after their long journey.
"Rest, indeed!" the Witch of the West exclaimed grumpily and then turned her anger toward Dorothy. "I was resting in peace, for what I believed was all eternity. Then you had to show up again. You've been the bane of my existence since you first came to Oz!"
"What are you complaining about now?" asked her sister, the Witch of the East. "That's all you ever do is gripe and moan. At least you've never had a house dropped on you."
Lion, always on the alert for possible danger, quickly went to the window and looked up, fearing the appearance of an incoming domicile.
The emissaries from Emerald City had been in the North for only three days—during which time Glinda had grown a foot and a half in height—when the first refugees arrived at the gates.
"It's Zerelda," the spokesman for the Clock Watchers cried, constantly fidgeting, clearly agitated at having nothing pressing to do at the moment. "She's destroyed our village. Her Matchstick Men army set fire to Grandfather Clock!"
"That means she's on her way here," Scarecrow concluded.
"When did this happen?" Lion asked, wondering how much time they had to prepare their defenses for Zerelda's arrival.
"I don't know," the chief Clock Watcher replied, showing the oversized timepiece he wore on his wrist. "My hands are frozen at 3:19."
"We must prepare for the invasion!" Lion shouted and went off to confer with the mayor.
Two hours later, a second group arrived seeking sanctuary.
"Alas!" the Scribe exclaimed. "A catastrophic event of monumental proportions has occurred!"
"What happened?" Tin Man asked.
"An army of wooden sticks with phosphorus heads marching north along the Blue Brick Road descended upon our peaceful little vale and set fire to everything in sight. We were lucky to escape the tower with our lives. However, all our books and scrolls are gone! The entire history of Oz has been destroyed!"
"When was this?" Scarecrow asked.
"I don't know," the Scribe answered, his eyes filling with tears. "I believe it was somewhere at the end of Chapter 3,988, but I can't say for certain since all my references are gone."
After the elderly Scribes were escorted by two women dressed in blue to suitable accommodations, Dorothy, Scarecrow and Tin Man went to visit Glinda.
"I'm glad you're feeling better," Scarecrow announced, noticing Glinda was nearly as tall as Dorothy. "I only wish we had good news for you."
"No need for long faces," the witch told her visitors. "You're not harbingers of bad tidings. I know all about what Zerelda has done. I have heard from the talking flowers, the musical fish, the Clock Watchers and the Scribes. I even know of my sister's most recent atrocity."
"What is that?" Dorothy asked.
"Her Matchstick Men set the Paper Ladies on fire. The North Wind brought their ashes to me."
As she spoke, Glinda grew in size before their eyes.
"In a few hours," she continued, "I will be completely recovered. At that time, I and my two ghostly sisters from the East and West will lead my army to defeat Zerelda."
"You have an army?" Dorothy asked with surprise.
"Yes, and at this very moment, General Lion is preparing them for battle."
* * *
Bundled up in heavy woolen garments to protect her from the cold, Dorothy joined Scarecrow and Tin Man in the sled that had brought them to Sapphire City. Lion, proudly wearing his medals, stood in a chariot beside Glinda, who was restored to her full height and strength. Three banners waved proudly in the air: Glinda's blue banner of the North as well as the green banner of the Witch of the East and the yellow banner of the Witch of the West.
Dorothy watched in awe as Glinda's soldiers descended from Sapphire Mountain and gathered in formation.
"It's an army made of snow!" she exclaimed.
These were not the snowmen she made as a child, consisting of three snowballs placed one on top of the other with pieces of coal for eyes and sticks for arms. The Snow Soldiers could best be described as looking like gingerbread men dipped in white chocolate and wearing military capes and hats made of blue icing. They were divided into two groups: the infantry that marched on foot and the cavalry that rode Ice Horses. When Lion gave the signal, the infantry moved forward and the cavalry mounted.
The Ice Horses took off at breakneck speed, and Dorothy had to grab on to Tin Man's arm to keep from falling out of the sled. Surprisingly, the infantry had no difficulty keeping up with the swiftly moving cavalry.
Toto barked and wagged his tail, wishing he could join in the chase.
"Look!" Scarecrow shouted and pointed to an immense cloud of smoke that was heading in their direction.
Several minutes later, they were covered with ashes. Whether it was the remains of the Paper Ladies, the Scribes' history books, Grandfather Clock or a combination of all three, they could not tell. What was clear was that Zerelda was near.
"It's best you civilians keep to the rear where you'll be safe," Lion shouted to them.
It was good advice given the fact that no one in the sled was armed.
The Ice Horses immediately slowed their pace, and the Snow Soldiers swept past them.
"That must be them," Dorothy said when she saw the thin wooden sticks marching under Zerelda's red banner along the Blue Brick Road from the south.
When the Matchstick Men encountered Glinda's army, their phosphorous heads ignited. Upon seeing the enemy, the Snow Soldiers stopped, took aim with their bows and sent a hail of arrow-like icicles raining down upon Zerelda's forces. Combatants from both sides fought bravely, and, as was too often the case in war, the casualties were high. This battle, however, left no bodies behind. It was, after all, a clash of fire versus snow and ice. After the fighting was over, all that remained was water.
Zerelda, who except for her coloring bore an uncanny resemblance to Glinda, glided across the puddles of fallen warriors and confronted her sister.
"You may have bested me this time," she shouted as sparks of rage erupted from her flaming red hair, "but your victory is only temporary. I already rule the South, East and West, and it is only a matter of time before I come back and conquer the North. All of Oz will be mine."
At that moment the ghosts of the two dead sisters appeared.
"No!" Zerelda screamed, her anger giving way to fright.
When the Witch of the East joined hands with Glinda, Zerelda turned to her sister from the West.
"Join me," she pleaded. "Together we can defeat the North and the East."
However, death has a way of extinguishing evil and eliminating the thirst for power. Once no longer living, the Witch of the West ceased being wicked. Ignoring Zerelda's enticements, she took Glinda's other hand. Combining their powers, the witches of the North, East and West encircled their sister from the South. There was a blinding shaft of light as all four joined as one. The light soared to the sky and then arched back down to earth. All that remained of the witches were the colors of their banners: red, yellow, green and blue.
"It looks like a giant rainbow!" Dorothy exclaimed.
Oz, as the heroes of our story knew it, ceased to exist. North, South, East and West became one. Munchkins, Flying Monkeys, Winkies, Clock Watchers, Scribes and all the other wondrous creatures Dorothy had encountered in her journeys were all united under the Rainbow.
With peace and prosperity throughout the land, there was no further need for witches or wizards.
* * *
The ring of the old landline telephone echoed through Dorothy Henslow's Florida retirement home.
"There's still no answer," an alarmed Harriet told her brother.
"Maybe she went to a shelter after all," Zeke suggested.
Outside the airport waiting room, the hurricane raged.
"I doubt it," his wife, Patty, said. "I love your mother, but we all know how stubborn she can be."
"I'm going back," Harriet suddenly announced.
"In this storm?" her husband, Burke, asked. "You've got to be kidding!"
"Besides," Zeke reminded her, "we already returned the rental cars."
"I'll get another one then. I'm not going to leave my hundred-year-old mother alone in this storm."
"Wait," Burke said, as she headed toward the Hertz counter. "I'll drive."
"No," Zeke said. "I'll go with her. She's my mother, too."
A half hour later, Zeke was behind the wheel of a rented Toyota Corolla and heading toward his mother's seniors housing development. Even with the wipers on full speed, he had to drive at ten miles an hour due to the poor visibility of the torrential downpour. Finally, he pulled into Dorothy's driveway. The dash from the car to the front door left the elderly siblings drenched to their skin.
Zeke pounded on the door, but there was no answer.
"Maybe she went to a shelter," he suggested again.
"Wait," Harriet said as her brother kept knocking. "If I know our mother, she's hidden a key here somewhere."
A moment later she found a spare house key beneath one of the flower pots on the old woman's stoop. After opening the front door, she and her brother ran inside.
"Mom!" they called in unison.
The living room and kitchen were empty, so they headed toward the bedroom.
"Mom, wake up," Zeke said to the woman on the bed.
"Didn't you hear us calling you?" Harriet asked.
Dorothy Henslow did not reply. Her body, having reached the century mark, finally gave out. She lay dead on her bed with an emerald pendant around her neck.
As Zeke and Harriet wept with grief at their loss, somewhere over the rainbow, a young Dorothy Gale—now devoid of color like the Wizard, the four witches and the other residents of Oz's Land of the Dead—played hopscotch on the White Brick Road as Toto barked at her heels.
This story contains characters from L. Frank Baum's book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, which is in the public domain. According to the classic MGM movie, Glinda is the Witch of the North. The book says she rules the Quadling Country in the south, having defeated the Witch of the South. For my story, I chose to keep her in the North.
The image in the upper left corner is an illustration from Baum's book by William Wallace Denslow.
Here's a character that was deleted from the 1939 movie: the "Wicked Smart" Cat of the Northeast. (Or so Salem would have us believe!)
