Abducted to Oz - Bob Evans and Chris Dulabone
ABDUCTED to OZ
BY
Bob Evans & Chris Dulabone.
Founded on and Continuing the Famous Oz Stories
by L. Frank Baum.
Illustrated by Dennis Anfuso.
List of Chapters
Chapter I
The Abduction
Chapter 2
Historical Background
Chapter 3
Prelude to the Parade
Chapter 4
An Unfortunate Outcome
Chapter 5
The Best Laid Plans
Chapter 6
Spellbound!
Chapter 7
An Alien Presence
Chapter 8
A Strange Encounter
Chapter 9
Captured Again!
Chapter 10
A Mystical Experience
Chapter 11
The Winkle Country
Chapter 12
The Meeting with Princess Ozma
Chapter 13
A Window, A Window
Chapter 14
Jeanne-Marie
Chapter 15
Can't Stand in the Way of Love
Chapter 16
A Story with a Happy Ending
This book is dedicated to
Graham Dunn
Whose love and enthusiasm for all things Oz is a true inspiration.
CHAPTER ONE:
THE ABDUCTION
The boy was doing his homework. His parents had taken his little brother
to see _Return to Oz_ at the movie theater. He had seen it when it first
came out and, although he enjoyed it at the time, he felt he was getting
too old for that sort of stuff. Besides, he had too much work to do. It
seemed to him that each teacher allocated enough work to practically
take up a fellow's entire evening--as if their class was the only one.
So Graham, for that was his name, knew he would have to work for several
more hours if he was to complete all the assignments.
Graham began to work on his math problems, but he could not concentrate.
His mind drifted off to the original L. Frank Baum story: _The Wonderful
Wizard of Oz_. He was thinking about the characters in it and what a
terrific imagination Mr. Baum must have had, when suddenly, out of the
stillness of the house, came a weird screeching sound. The sound was
like nothing he had ever heard before. It seemed to have come from
behind him; from the vicinity of the fireplace. Graham shivered. He did
not believe in ghosts, and at twelve years old (almost thirteen) he
should not be afraid to be home alone. But he was scared right now--no
question about it. However, when no other sound was forthcoming, he
began to rationalize that it had all been his imagination, perhaps just
the wind whistling down the chimney. Then it happened! The awful sound
of breaking glass. "Oh no," he thought. "Someone is breaking in!" He
looked over to the window--then to the French doors. Nothing! Yet the
sound had seemed very close. He glanced at the mirror above the
fireplace only to see that all the glass had gone, leaving an empty
frame. Now he was really frightened. He wondered what had caused the
glass to shatter. Then, to his amazement, all the pieces of slivered
glass suddenly flew up from the fireplace and reconstructed themselves
in the frame.
"I must be going crazy!" thought the poor lad. "All this school work is
getting to be too much for me. I must have cracked completely!" Then all
the lights in the house went out, leaving him in pitch blackness. At
that moment there was a strange crackling sound, and the mirror became
illuminated with a purple glow. A grotesquely human face began to form
into the image of an evil Witch. A loud, screechy cackle emanated from
her throat. It was the same sound he had heard earlier. By now Graham
was absolutely frozen with fear.
The Witch's evil eyes glared at him as she screamed, "So, my little man.
We meet at last. You have hated me ever since you first read about me,
haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU?" she shouted. "ANSWER ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT!"
She reached her arms out of the mirror, grabbed him, and shook him hard.
She shook and shook until he thought he was going to be sick. Then she
lifted him right up off the floor and into the mirror. By now Graham was
absolutely terrified. He kicked and screamed and tried to escape, but to
no avail. The Witch was much too strong for him. He found himself
dragged to the other side of the mirror and out into a room in the
Witch's castle, whereupon the Witch immediately released her grip, for
she knew that the boy had nowhere to run.
"Well, what say you now, squirt? Do you still hate me?" cackled the
Witch, breaking into fits of hideous laughter.
"Oh, no. Not anymore," replied Graham, his voice trembling. "I think
you're pretty nice, um, all things considered."
"Oh, come now!" replied the Witch. "Let's be reasonable. You don't
really think that. You're just afraid of what I might do to you. Look at
you. You're shaking in your boots!"
"I'm afraid, yes," said Graham. "Really afraid. But I don't think you'll
harm me after you hear what I have to say."
"Oh," replied the Witch. "Really? And what might that be?"
Graham knew he had piqued her interest and was now desperately trying to
think of a plausible story that would keep her occupied while he tried
to figure out a way to escape. He had managed to see out of one of her
windows and knew he was, without a doubt, in the Land of Oz.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER TWO:
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
Now, in the event that this book may have fallen into the hands of
someone who is unfamiliar with the marvelous Land of Oz, it seems
fitting that an explanation be inserted right about here. Oz is an
oblong-shaped country that is surrounded on all sides by a vast Deadly
Desert that is supposed to keep visitors out. Even so, it has been
visited by any number of American children prior to Graham's visit. Some
came by way of invitation, but mostly they arrived by accident. The most
famous of these visitors, of course, was little Dorothy Gale. Dorothy
traveled to Oz via a powerful cyclone which carried her house and
herself over the massive desert and plopped her on top of a particularly
evil Witch. With the help of a live Scarecrow, a man made out of tin,
and a Cowardly Lion, she was able to find her way back to her home in
America. She returned a short time later and had a wonderful new series
of adventures in which she met Princess Saari, Gayelette, and even some
Fuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs. It was but a few years after that when little
Dorothy finally consented to become a citizen of Oz and live there
happily--or reasonably so--for many years thereafter. In fact, even
after nearly eighty-five years, she remains an honorary princess of that
lovely country. Because no one has to ever grow old or die in this
singular land, Dorothy remains as young and innocent as on the day she
first arrived. At one point, Dorothy was joined by a fine young boy
named Button-Bright, who was about as bright as a cloth-covered button.
Trot Griffiths, Betsy Bobbin, and several others have also agreed to
live the rest of their days in Oz rather than returning home to the
mortal lands, where illness and death and aging are common.
Because Oz citizens only age when they wish to do so, on one's birthday
all one is required to do is to wish to stay the same age for another
year, and it will be so. This would certainly please most of the people
in our mortal lands, but it would hardly be practical here due to the
ever-increasing overpopulation problem.
[Illustration]
The Land of Oz is divided into five sections. To the North is the
Gillikin territory. The Gillikins favor the color purple above all
others and are known to paint their homes, barns, and silos in this
color. To the South lies the land of the Quadlings. Here, the revered
color is red. The area is governed by a powerful but Good Witch named
Glinda, and Glinda is considered an enemy to all of the evil Witches.
The very center is the Emerald City. It has been called the most
glorious place on the face of the earth (or even the moon or Mars), and
rightly so. It is so lovely, in fact, that it defies description. And it
is from here that the overall ruler is able to reign above all five
regions.
In the West can be found the yellow Winkie Country. The Emperor of this
region is none other than Nick Chopper, the tin man who had befriended
Dorothy on her first visit to Oz. To the East is the blue Munchkin
Country. Here, all of the things that the Gillikins paint purple are
painted blue. This is the region where little Dorothy's house had fallen
down atop the Wicked Witch of the East. And it was this incident that
had caused the Wicked Witch of the West to take notice of the little
girl. So wicked was this Witch, in fact, that she sent a host of plagues
in the hope that they would destroy poor Dorothy and her companions. She
lashed out with her flesh-eating gray wolves, her sinister crows, and
her horrific stinging bees. But it was not until she called upon her
Marvelous Flying Monkeys that she was able to succeed in her goal. The
monkeys, enslaved by the powers of a magical hat, destroyed the
Scarecrow and tin man and enslaved Dorothy and the Lion.
Oz history would have been dismal, indeed, had Dorothy not splashed a
bucket of water over the Wicked Witch, wetting her from head to foot. As
Witches and water do not mix very well, the evil woman was reduced to
nothing more than a puddle of ugly liquid. With the help of some kindly
Winkie tinsmiths and seamstresses, Dorothy was able to retrieve her
friends and bring happiness back to Oz. Had she desired to live there
then, she would have had a welcoming home with any or all of the
citizens of Oz, even the Scarecrow, who was made ruler over all the
land. The Scarecrow was a good and honest king--a thing that rarely
happens in the mortal lands--but was not to stay long in that position.
Instead, he had gladly handed over his crown to the rightful ruler of
Oz, Princess Ozma. Even though she is but a child, Ozma has become the
most well-loved ruler in all the earth. Citizens of Oz love her like a
sister, while children of other countries who read Oz books yearn to
leave their homes to go to that wonderful country to be near to her.
[Illustration]
Of course, Oz is a very big place. But if all of us who wished to go
there were suddenly whisked away on a cyclone of our own, it would
surely become decidedly too crowded. So it is good for Oz that we are
made to stay here except on the rare occasion when Ozma may call upon
one of us, or one of us may find Oz by accident.
CHAPTER THREE:
PRELUDE TO THE PARADE
Dorothy and Ozma have become fast friends over the many ageless years.
Only on rare occasions is the incident with the Wicked Witch discussed
any more. Once a year, on the day of the anniversary, there is a parade
and a feast, but the reason for these festivities is not generally
acknowledged. The very fact that dear little Dorothy is present is
considered reason enough to celebrate. Oz people, it should be told,
will accept any excuse to have a celebration. And the celebration might
well have continued as it always had, except that something most
peculiar had happened this year. Sir Simon the Shrew, who had come to
live in the Emerald City after Princess Ozma had magically enlarged him
to human-size, had become very good friends with Dorothy. He was of the
opinion that the annual festival should better commemorate the event on
which it was founded. He determined that the most elaborate float in the
parade should be one which depicted Dorothy dousing the Wicked Witch
with water.
Because he was now as large as a human child, Simon was able to gather
together the materials he needed in record time. Although he was hardly
W.W. Denslow or Frank Kramer, Simon's artistic abilities were far
superior to those of Dirk. Borrowing the Red Wagon, he created a large
platform on which he could build his float. He arranged with Kabumpo,
the Elegant Elephant, to draw the float through the streets, as he
thought it would be too heavy for the Sawhorse. Kabumpo agreed to this
only because he respected Dorothy and because he enjoyed parades. He was
still a tad disgruntled about being used as a work-horse, but he allowed
this feeling to be repressed in favor of the pomp and circumstance of
the parade. He was, after all, a bit of a show-off when he could get
away with it. And that is a real understatement!
Sir Simon the Shrew was able to construct upon the Red Wagon a
magnificent papier mache image that kind of resembled Dorothy. She wore
one shoe, which Simon coated with glue and sprinkled with silver
glitter. He deftly colored her dress blue and white and gave her
two braids in her ribbon hair. He stood back and admired his
masterpiece. "Wow!" said Simon. "This will get a lot of attention!"
But he still had to make the Wicked Witch. This was a harder
prospect, as Simon did not like to create anything that was ugly. To be
sure, there are very few people or things that are uglier than the
Wicked Witch of the West.
[Illustration]
After some time and not less than three failed attempts to construct a
figure of the old Witch, Sir Simon sighed. It was hard to make her look
right. Because of his kind and gentle nature, Simon's images always
wound up looking too friendly. This was not the right image for the
Wicked Witch at all. She had to look mean and hateful. She had to look
like the kind of person who would happily have the Tin Woodman and the
Scarecrow destroyed, or take an innocent little girl as her slave
without remorse. At last, he decided he had to do it with his eyes
closed. This way, he would not be as repulsed by the Witch's cruelty.
Shutting his rodentine eyes, Sir Simon painted the most horrible
face he could. After he opened his eyes to look at his handiwork, he
found himself feeling quite queasy. He had to turn away to avoid being
sick. "Perfect," he muttered. "It looks just like her."
[Illustration]
He then set up the float and hinged the arms of the Dorothy figure in
such a way that she could dump a bucket over the Witch's head. Giving
three cheers for creativity, he had constructed the Witch out of
balloons and covered them with brown sugar. He had then pushed a pin
into the figure to produce a hollow sugar figure that would dissolve
instantly when touched by the water. This would be the highlight of the
whole parade! Simon was very proud of himself. He pushed his magnificent
float into a large storage locker behind the palace. The room was dusty
and cobwebby enough to assure him that it was not used very often and
that his surprise would not be discovered before the day of the parade.
"Now I'll need to find a bucket and fill it with water," he said.
Looking around the room, he noticed an oak bucket that was already full
and which was just the right size for his sculpture. He quickly secured
it in place in the papier mache Dorothy's hands. "If this doesn't get a
lot of loud cheers from the crowd, nothing will!" He rubbed his paws
with glee.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER FOUR:
AN UNFORTUNATE OUTCOME
The day of the big parade came swiftly. Sir Simon and Kabumpo were
vastly proud of the surprise they were about to spring on the people of
the Emerald City. Indeed, it was a delightful parade. The Fuzzy Yellow
Wogglebugs had put together a choral group that sang a bouncing tune as
they marched at the head of the parade. Mr. Tinker followed them with an
electronic float that tossed candy canes out of its windows to the
people below. Princess Saari came next, riding atop a magnificent float
that seemed to radiate all the colors of the rainbow. She was followed
by Pegina the Pegasus, who flew just above the heads of two mighty
dragons. Button-Bright, Trot, and Betsy Bobbin had put together a kazoo
band and played "Ease on Down the Road" as they marched along behind the
dragons. The Elves of Elfland followed, having constructed a float that
resembled Egor's fantastic Funhouse out of hundreds of carnations. A
gray spotlight shot out of the windows at certain intervals to circle
around the Funhouse and resemble a cyclone. No one knew how the Elves
had managed to make the light do this trick, but it was an Elven secret,
so no one asked.
Many other quaint and delightful spectacles were there to be seen and
enjoyed. But it was the marvelous Dorothy and Wicked Witch sculpture
that caught the attention of everyone. It reminded all of the reason for
the annual celebration, and all were happy to recall the way they had
been freed from the heartless whims of the cruel-hearted old woman.
At the end of the parade, all eyes were fixed on the image, and Simon
signaled to Kabumpo to let go of the spring. The Dorothy statue splashed
the sugary Witch right on her head. Unfortunately, the bucket had not
been filled with water, as Simon had assumed. It was actually filled
with some fermented sucopinesz juice that a family of wombats had hidden
there for consumption after the parade. The Witch image began to shrink
and fall away. The crowd roared and laughed at the sight. But, of
course, we all know that sucopinesz juice and sugar do not mix well. A
series of tiny explosions began to appear above the melted Witch.
Kabumpo was so startled that he did not see how close he was
getting to the Hungry Tiger. Feeling a heavy elephant's foot
on his striped tail, the Tiger jumped eight hundred yards ahead.
He landed on Princess Saari, breaking a hole in the top of
her float, into which they both fell. From this hole emanated a radiant
green light. The light ricocheted off of the Glass Cat's tail and struck
the gray light that had been circling the Elfland float. Now, it is
commonly known among Oz scholars that a cyclone is created when hot and
cold air meet in one place. It was the same way when the two magical
types of light collided. The dizzying green light splashed at the
other-worldly gray light, and a funnel cloud emerged. It whirled about
until it surrounded the popping mass of sugared juice. When the twister
had subsided, thanks to the magic of Glinda and the Wizard, there stood
a hideous green-faced woman in a black outfit. On her head she wore a
black pointed hat. In her hand was a broomstick.
[Illustration]
"Who's sh-she?" stuttered Dorothy.
"I don't know," replied Ozma. "She looks like a Witch! But not like any
of the Witches I've ever known about!"
"I am the Wicked Witch of the West!" shouted the woman in a maniacal
voice.
"She doesn't look like the one I remember," said the Scarecrow. "This
one has two eyes and green skin. She must be an impostor."
"I am not an impostor!" bellowed the woman.
"But," said an elderly Winkie who remembered the original Witch, "Witch
Allidap had a patch over one eye and did not dress in pure black. This
is not her at all."
"I am too me! I just feel a little different today, that's all. I will
prove to you that I am Allidap!"
[Illustration]
CHAPTER FIVE:
THE BEST LAID PLANS
It should be understood that, although the creature was really little
more than an unstable life-form produced by a one-of-a-kind series of
accidents, she believed that she was indeed the Wicked Witch of the
West. And as long as she suffered under this delusion, she was dangerous
to all of the Witch's enemies. Especially Dorothy, as her primary memory
was based upon the scene on the float, rather than any history before or
after the event depicted thereon. She was angry and afraid, these being
the emotions that were depicted in the sculpture. And these emotions, as
we all know, can lead one to do things that are not particularly
wholesome. Now, it was not too many seconds before the false Witch
hopped onto her broomstick and zoomed away from the jeering crowd. She
was a creature of resentment and hate, so she did not feel safe in that
environment. Instead, she determined to find a way to reach her goals
elsewhere. Knowing about the castle where the real Witch had lived, she
hid herself there to get her bearings. Because she was not really Witch
Allidap, she did not know much magic. But, because of the magic in the
colored lights, she knew just enough to keep her from realizing the
truth about her identity. Her appearance was quite different from that
of the real Allidap. There was a reason for this, however. It seems
that, at the very millisecond of her being brought to life, someone who
believed in her had thought about her. And that someone had had a
different impression of her. It was a silly impression created not so
much by the book as by a movie musical that was televised annually. So
that was the way the thinker imagined her to look. Because of this, he
had projected his impression onto the false Witch. It also created a
number of Allidap's memories in the mind of the sugar-creature. And it
also caused her to remember the thinker--a little boy named Graham. He
had been thinking about the original book but visualized the Witch as
she had looked in the movie. And because he had an inordinate amount of
homework to do, he was also feeling quite resentful. Little did he dream
that this combination of negative emotions and vivid imagination would
bring into manifestation a very unpleasant creature! One that no decent
young person should ever have to encounter. But now Graham found himself
face to face with the Wicked Witch!
[Illustration]
She was in his home, and she was hardly filled with joy. She dragged him
to her castle and laughed at his utter helplessness. "You're just afraid
of what I might do to you," she said. "Look at you. You're shaking in
your boots!"
"I am afraid, yes," said Graham. "Really afraid. But I don't think
you'll harm me after you hear what I have to say."
"Oh," replied the Witch. "Really? And what might that be?"
"Listen carefully," said Graham. "I know where there is a book of magic
spells that can make mincemeat out of Dorothy and the Scarecrow and
those guys."
"You do?" the Witch said, skeptically. "And what is a book?"
"Why, it is a bunch of pieces of paper stuck together at one side and
that has words printed inside of it."
"Oh, yes," said the Witch. "I know what words are. I had some words of
warning printed on some signposts to keep away strangers. And I once
wrote 'SURRENDER DOROTHY' in the sky. But my memory doesn't include a
book. Where is it?"
"Only I can get it," said Graham, realizing that he now had a perfect
way out of the dilemma. "It is back at my home in America." (He was sure
that he could break away from her once he was back home.) But not to be
outsmarted, clutching the boy by the hand, the Witch immediately pulled
him back through the mirror without letting him free from her vise-like
grasp. "Where is this book?" she said angrily. Then, seeing Graham's
math book on the table, she felt a tinge of recognition. There had been
some of these on a table in her castle when she had demanded that
Dorothy give her those magic shoes. So these were called books! "Is this
the one?" she asked, picking up his math book with her free hand. "What
are these words on it?"
"What's wrong?" asked Graham. "Can't you see? Don't your eyes work?"
"I do not know these words," said the Witch. "My memory has become
clouded on some things. I know the words 'SURRENDER DOROTHY' and the
ones I had on my signposts, but these are unfamiliar. What do they say?"
"It says," Graham lied, "_The Best and Most Complete Book of Witchcraft
Ever Written_. It has every spell ever invented in it! Would you like to
have it? If you go away, I'll give it to you."
"I'll take it, but I'll need a reader to read it to me. That shall be
you, my little FOOL!" So saying, she took him back through the mirror,
sealing off the opening behind them forever.
CHAPTER SIX:
SPELLBOUND!
Once back on the other side of the mirror and in her own domain, the
Witch could not wait to get started on the first spell. After all, who
could resist experimenting with spells from a book with a title like
_The Best and Most Complete Book of Witchcraft Ever Written_?
"Okay, you little squirt," she snapped. "Read me the first spell."
Graham knew he would have to think off the top of his head and think
fast if he was to come up with something plausible. The minute she found
out that the book was a fake, he would be dead meat, that was for sure.
"Okay. Well.... Let's see.... The first spiel--I mean, spell--is 'How to
Turn an Obnoxious Dial (or Socially Disadvantaged Countenance) into a
Reflection of Infinite Beauty.'"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you just said," snapped the Witch with
obvious annoyance. "Read it to me again. Wait. That won't do any good.
What do you think it means?"
Graham knew he had her hooked. "It is obviously a spell that will
transform you into the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of
the earth."
"Oh, my," said the Witch-clone with obvious delight. "Well, let's get
started! What are you waiting for?"
Graham cleared his throat and began to "read" from the book:
"_Find a slimy little pickle.
Rub it with a shiny nickel.
Drop it in a Witch's hat.
Add seventeen eggs on top of that.
Top that off with a bowl of Jell-O
and spittle from a little fellow.
Add some sour cream and chives
and honey directly from the hives._
[Illustration]
_Now add one pint of strawberry jam
(preferably bought from Knott's Berry Farm).
Then bend thy head towards thy legs
and press said hat upon thy head.
Now stand and then induce a friend to pull it down
below thy crown.
Wait at least a half-an-hour.
Take off the hat and dust with flour.
Now look in the mirror and thou shalt see
none more lovelier than thee."_