Abducted to Oz - Bob Evans and Chris Dulabone
[Illustration]
"Why don't you stand here in front of your television set?" suggested
the camera man. "But we'll have to unchain it from this thing here. This
won't look pleasing to our television audience."
"No!" raged the fake Allidap. "Leave that alone!"
But the camera man, who had come equipped with some heavy-duty metal
clippers, had Telly freed in no time at all. "Now, my dear Ms. Allidap,"
said the centaur. "Please stand still and try to look surprised. If this
all goes well, you may be eligible for an all expense paid trip to Walt
Disney World in Tampa, Florida. That's in the United States, you know.
So it may be possible for you to meet the President and give him any
advice you might have for him."
"But.... Hey...." stuttered the Witch.
"You want him to butt some hay?" said the horse. "I think I'd rather eat
it than butt it. But to each his own. I think we need some extra color
in this place. It looks too gloomy." She picked up a bucket (which had
been carried in by the centaur) in her teeth and began to splash some
rainbow-colored paint all about the room, some of which went directly
into the Witch's eyes. Allidap tried to cry out in rage, but she only
got some paint in her mouth.
"This looks great!" said the camera man. "The color really adds a lot.
The people watching will be happier to see it than the gloominess that
used to be here. Now, let me see... Let's have some creative banter. Ms.
Allidap, can you look excited and happy? Come on, let's see that
beautiful smile."
"Yes," added the centaur. "And hop up and down screaming, 'I won! I
won!' if you think you can handle it."
The Witch was having trouble following all of this--especially with the
paint in her eyes that made it impossible to see anything around her.
But she did like the thought of having won something, so she did her
best to do as they asked. When they seemed satisfied with their TV
footage, they bid her a fond adieu and scurried out the door.
Once a good distance from the Witch's home, the camera man took off his
mask. Of course, as you may have already guessed, it was actually Graham
in disguise. And with him were MacDonald Lindsay and Jeanne-Marie. The
plan had worked, and they had rescued not only Telly, but also the
Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger as well.
"I want to thank you," said Telly, "for coming to our rescue that way.
That was a clever trick, making the Witch think you were there to put
her on television. I wouldn't have actually wanted to televise an image
of her, as it might damage my picture tube, but it worked."
The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger thanked them as well.
"I think we should be looking for the real Ozma," said Graham. "The
Witch will eventually be out hunting me down again."
"A good thought," agreed the Hungry Tiger. "We shall go and find her
straightaway."
The centaur looked solemn. "I would so love to meet our dear ruler," he
said. "But I fear I may be in for a rude visit from those wartfrogs, and
I think I should be there when it comes to pass. However, I will join
you in the Emerald City as soon as I have sent the wartfrogs away for
good. I will be sorry to be apart from this dear unicorn, however. We
have been talking, and we agree that we belong together. I will be
anxiously looking forward to seeing her again very soon."
"No," replied Jeanne-Marie. "I shall come back to the farm and help you
to rid yourself of those former employees of yours. Then we shall travel
together to the Emerald City."
This was a sad parting for all, after all of the adventures they had
shared together. But it was as it had to be. So they all said their
good-byes and parted, and the two equine-type creatures headed in one
direction and the four mismatched friends in the other.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
A STORY WITH A HAPPY ENDING
The four friends had reached a clearing behind which a clump of trees
partially camouflaged a quaint little cottage. By this time Graham was
feeling quite thirsty and thought it would be a good idea to knock on
the cottage door and see if he could obtain a nice drink of water. The
cottage was surrounded by a garden full of flowers and a white picket
fence, and it was all so pretty it could have come right out of a fairy
tale. Graham knew full well that no evil person could possibly reside in
such a picturesque place, so he boldly opened the gate and walked along
the little winding path to the front door, where he knocked loudly.
A minute went by with no response, whereupon Graham knocked again, but
this time quite a bit louder.
"Why don't you just knock my door down?" said a voice behind him. Graham
about jumped out of his skin as he spun around to see a very kindly lady
with a twinkle in her eyes approaching from the back of the house. "I
was pruning my roses in the back garden," she continued, "when I heard
what I thought must be a very rude person banging on my front door. I
gather you must be here on a very urgent matter."
"Well ... not exactly," Graham said rather sheepishly. "I was feeling
very thirsty and thought that perhaps I might be able to obtain a drink
of water"
"Hmmm, I think that can be arranged," replied the lady. "And what about
your friends?" she asked, looking rather curiously at Telly and a little
nervously at the Lion and Tiger.
"Oh, Telly here is an electrical-mechanical person and is not very
partial to water. But if you could wipe his face with a damp cloth,
he'll not only look better and be able to see better, but I'll be able
to see his television programs better. Would you like to watch one now?"
[Illustration]
The lady was more than a little confused by this invitation, but she
obliged by spraying some glass cleaning liquid on Telly's screen and
wiping it with a dry cloth. "Ouch! That stuff stings my eyes!" Telly
protested loudly. But he was happy that all of the dust had been removed
from his screen.
"How about the lion and tiger?" asked the lady. "Would they like a
drink? They don't bite, do they?" Without waiting for an answer, the
lady led them to the back of the house, where a well was located. She
hauled up a bucket of ice-cold, crystal clear water, which Graham took a
long drink of from a ladle which she handed to him. The Lion and Tiger
said they were not thirsty, but the Tiger asked politely if there were
any fat babies residing with her. Graham coughed and choked as the water
went down the wrong way. Fortunately, the noise drowned out the Tiger's
question, and the lady did not hear him ...
With his thirst more than satisfied, Graham proceeded to introduce
himself and did his best to explain his current situation and Telly's
unique abilities. The lady replied that her name was Dore and that she
was both an artist and a storyteller. She then went into the house and
brought out several unique pen and ink drawings, as well as some
beautiful watercolors, which everyone greatly admired. She looked
intently at the Hungry Tiger and said he was a magnificent animal and
that she would like to sketch him. The Tiger could not resist smirking
at the Lion, who just rolled his eyes.
"Now," continued Dore as she sketched away, "I'll tell you one of my
stories if you like."
Graham and his friends nodded vigorously. After all, they all loved to
hear stories. Everyone sat down on the soft velvety grass by the well as
Dore proceeded to tell the story. She had no sooner started when lots of
little animals appeared as if from nowhere and gathered around to
listen. They somehow knew that there was nothing to fear from the Lion
or the Tiger.
"The title of my story," said Dore, "is 'Helen's Smile.' I hope you like
it:
Today was a special day. Not only because the sun was shining, but
because he felt good. It had been a long time since he had felt so good.
He sat in his chair on the porch as he had done every single day
throughout winter, summer, fall, and (his favorite time of the year)
spring.
He was a people-watcher all right. No question about that. And almost
everyone in town had to pass his house on the way to the train station.
He liked that. He knew who worked in the city, who was late, and who
went in early. You could tell a lot about people by the schedules they
kept. This was a particularly beautiful day. Fall nipped the air, and it
felt crisp to the skin. The leaves were just hinting at the change in
colors. He liked this time of the year almost as much as he liked
spring. The heat of the summer had a way of sapping a man's strength.
Fall was different; there was something about the cool air that made his
blood surge through his body. Food seemed to taste better, and the air
smelted especially clean. The women seemed to look prettier than ever.
Yes, sir! This was a good time of the year. His name was Clive, and he
was only twenty-seven years old. He had never really lived in the usual
sense of the word, but he was wise beyond his years. People always waved
and said "Hi" to him, but few approached him. They knew he was a
handicapped person because he was always in his wheelchair, and you
would think people would want to chat and be cheerful around him so he
would feel good, but few ever did. It was his face that bothered them.
It was deformed. This was a source of great pain to his mother, who
always carried a cloak of guilt about her. His eyes were set very far
apart and bulged. Many of the children on their way to school called him
"Frog." They'd shout, "Hey, Froggy-Froggy! Hey, Mr. Frog!" and make loud
croaking sounds. They never knew the pain it caused him. A few children,
however, were far more sensitive and loving and would wave and smile and
sometimes come right up to him and say, "Hi, Clive. How are you today?"
This made him feel happy again.
Clive's mouth was large and hung loosely at the ends. Somehow nature had
forgotten to give him all his facial muscles. For all his many emotions,
his face only reflected one. To watch him try to smile was painful. His
shriveled body was even sadder to observe. This day, Clive sat and
watched Helen pass by. He thought she had to be the most beautiful
person in the world. Surely a prettier girl could not exist. He watched
her intently, as he had done for the past six years. She walked by and
did not look his way, as usual. She always knew he was there. She had
sneaked a peak at him once and was so repulsed that she could not bring
herself to look again. Yet she knew how he felt about her. She could
feel it as she walked by. At first she felt afraid passing by. She even
tried taking a different route to the station. But after a while she
felt silly. So she passed his house with her head held high and her eyes
straight ahead.
As the years passed, she found out about the "cripple" who sat on his
porch all day. It was a sad story: Apparently, the father couldn't cope
with a deformed baby, so he deserted the family. The mother was a simple
country-girl. She was forced to take in wash and to clean other people's
houses. But she managed to support herself and her deformed child. She
was a quiet woman who minded her own business. She rarely spoke. But she
could polish silver and furniture like no other person and so she had
plenty of work. In time, she was able to afford her own house. They had
lived in that house on Mulberry Street for twenty years. It was always
clean and neat. On rare occasions, Helen saw the mother shopping. The
mother was so thin and gaunt. How did she manage to lift that son of
hers?
As Helen passed the house that bright fall morning, she wondered if the
man could stand up or walk. "Helen! Helen! You look so pretty today!"
The young woman stopped dead in her tracks. Who spoke? She looked around
her. No one that she could see was there--except the person on the
porch. Was it him? No ... It couldn't be. She had heard that he knew how
to speak, but that he was very difficult to understand. But this voice
was pleasant and articulate. Very masculine, too. _Is someone hiding
behind a bush? No. I'm being silly_, she thought. _I must have imagined
it._ She looked around one more time, yet carefully avoiding looking at
the figure on the porch.
"Helen, why do you always ignore me?"
Again she stopped. This time she did not look around. She knew. "Yes.
You are right. It is me. I have finally gotten up enough courage to talk
to you. It has taken me years. Can't you turn around just this once and
smile at me? It won't hurt you. You are so lovely, more lovely than even
the moon, the stars, and all the flowers in the world. Today I am going
to die. Yes! Really! I am so happy. It is such a special day. I knew I
was going to die three days ago, and I prayed to God that, before I
died, I could just see Helen smile. He gave me the 'gift' of speaking
into your mind for just this one special day. And He promised that I
could speak articulately if what I said came from the heart. I know you
can hear me. Please. I love you so much ... Won't you turn and smile at
me? Just this once?"
Helen stood rooted to the spot. She knew she was experiencing something
abnormal. She was frightened. _How does he know he is going to die?
That's impossible! But it's also impossible to hear a voice inside your
head, and I know I'm hearing it! Oh, God! Dare I do it? Can I look at
him? He's so ugly--so unbearably ugly! But how sad. It was a beautiful
thing he said to me. What if I do smile? Will he expect me to smile
every day? No! I can't do that. Next he'll ask me to come up to the
porch and chat. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't!_ Yet her heart went out
to him. _What loneliness he must feel. I'll smile just this once, and
then tomorrow I'll take the other route_. She gathered all her willpower
and slowly turned around, smiling. At that moment she could feel a
tremendous surge of love radiate towards her and envelope her entire
being. The sun was shining so brightly that it momentarily blinded her,
so she really couldn't see his face, but nevertheless she kept smiling
for a moment or two. Then she turned and continued on her way.
It was now several weeks since she had changed her route. By now she was
convinced that she had only imagined the voice. Yet she could not bring
herself to walk down his street again. It was another glorious day.
Helen had the day off and was going shopping. She was standing at the
checkout counter when she felt a light touch on her arm. She turned and
drew in her breath. It was HIS mother!
"Hello," said the mother in a soft voice. "I don't want to trouble you,
but I just want to tell you something I promised my son before he died."
Helen's heart skipped a beat. "He died?"
"Yes, dear. He died several weeks ago. He had been sitting out on the
porch as usual when he called out to me and told me you had smiled at
him. Dear, you made him so happy. He asked me to tell you something.
Then he slumped over and died. Just like that. Don't feel sad, dear. It
was a blessing. He did not believe that death was the end. He believed
that he would receive a fine new body."
"What did he say?"
The mother looked up at her, the most pleasant smile crossing her face.
"He said to thank you for your smile. And to tell you that someday he
will meet you again and it will be a different story. Your smile made
his life worthwhile, and he died a very, very happy man."
Helen felt a sadness creeping over her. _It was only a smile_, she
thought. _Now I am sorry I didn't smile before. It was such a little
thing for me to give. But from now on I will smile more often. I'll do
it for him_. "Thank you for telling me," she said aloud. "Your son must
have been a good man in his heart. If there is anything I can do, please
let me know." They both smiled at each other, for each knew that she had
found a new friend.
The End"
"What a lovely story," Graham said. "Don't you think so, Telly?" he
asked, turning to his friend. But Telly was crying like a baby. Tears
were flowing in gushes down his screen and splashing off his metallic
boots.
Dore produced a wad of tissues and dried his eyes. "You're likely to get
a short circuit," she said. "By the way, I'd be delighted to have you
join me for supper before you continue on your journey." With that,
everyone went inside, with Telly asking question after question. After
supper, everyone went out to the porch to talk. Graham sat on one of
those swinging seats and became lost in thought as he swung gently back
and forth. "Penny for your thoughts?" said Dore, sensing that the boy
was a little sad.
"Oh, I was just wondering if I will ever find a way to get home. I think
Oz is a very interesting place, with lots of incredibly wonderful people
(except for that old Witch), but I am getting very homesick, and I miss
my family terribly. Not only that, but they are probably worried sick
and have probably called the police about their missing child."
"Well," replied Dore, "you just happen to be in the right place ... You
see that old well where you quenched your thirst? Well, it's a wishing
well. A real, true wishing well. And if you throw in a coin and make a
sincere unselfish wish, your wish will come true instantly. Of course,
you only get one guaranteed wish, but if you make a second wish, you
have an eighty percent chance of that coming true, also."
Graham immediately perked up as Dore's words sank in. Then he became
crestfallen as his eyes fell upon Telly's forlorn face, not to mention
the disappointment reflected in the faces of the Cowardly Lion and the
Hungry Tiger. He had made a wonderful new friend in Telly and was just
getting to know the others, and now they were going to be
separated--perhaps forever.
Dore, quickly realizing what the situation was, offered her condolences
but assured Graham that if he were to make that second wish with great
sincerity, there was a very good chance he could come back for a visit.
With that, Graham shook hands with everyone and gave them each a big
hug. He then threw a penny into the well as he made his two wishes. "I
wish to go back home," and "I wish to come back to Oz someday for a
visit." Then, as he waved goodbye to everyone, he slowly became
invisible, only to reappear for a second, then slowly disappear again.
This happened two or three times as Dore explained to Telly that the
magic was working all right but that Graham's mixed feelings on the
matter were delaying the final teleportation. Just then, there was a
large black shadow overhead and a sudden WHOOSH! as a projectile whizzed
past Graham's head. Back and forth it went, to reveal none other than
the Wicked Witch on her broomstick, grabbing for Graham as she passed
him.
"SO, LITTLE MAN. THOUGHT YOU'D ESCAPE FROM ME, EH? I DON'T THINK SO, MY
FINE FEATHERED FRIEND!" She wailed like a banshee as she finally grabbed
him by the shoulder and shook him as he desperately tried to escape. In
the distance Graham fancied he could hear his mother's voice calling
him.
"Graham! Graham!" His eyes--which had been shut tightly as the Witch
shook him--opened to see with great surprise his mother's face as she
also shook him. "Wake up! Wake up! Don't you know it's twelve midnight?
And you haven't even done your homework! Your father will be having
serious words with you in the morning, young man. Now, up to your room
immediately!"
Graham had not been expecting to come home to such a tongue-lashing, but
he was very happy to finally be back home after so many harrowing
experiences. Ever since he had first been abducted to Oz, he had
considered it his mission to get home again. The wishing well had made
it possible.
But as Graham turned out the light beside his bed that night and laid
his head against his pillow, he began to think over the events that he
had experienced in Oz. Of course he had wanted to get home to his
family. It only made sense that he would. He was only twelve and he
needed them. Not only that, but they would be worried sick. He had made
a sensible wish. Or had he? As he lay on his bed, it occurred to him that
he might have used his penny to wish away the wicked witch and save Oz.
A feeling of guilt began to gnaw at him. Had he actually used his penny
to desert his friends when they needed him most? He realized then what a
selfish act that had been. _Not entirely selfish_, he thought. _I was
thinking of my family as much as myself_. But he knew that he was making
excuses and that he should have wished more wisely. As he slowly drifted
off into a troubled sleep, he saw images of the Cowardly Lion, the
Hungry Tiger, Telly, Jeanne-Marie, MacDonald Lindsay, Dore, and many
other Oz folk pass before his eyes.
[Illustration]
The following day, Graham's mother was sorting the boy's dirty clothes
for the wash when she noticed an ink stain on his shirt pocket. She
checked the pocket and found a piece of paper with some kind of smudged
drawing and words below the sketch that she could not make out without
her reading glasses. It looked like, something ... speare. Without a
thought, she crumpled it up into a ball and threw it in the trash.
TO BE CONTINUED ...