Abducted to Oz Part 1

Abducted to Oz.

by Bob Evans and Chris Dulabone.

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 cla.s.s 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 a.s.signments.

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 gla.s.s. "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 gla.s.s had gone, leaving an empty frame. Now he was really frightened. He wondered what had caused the gla.s.s to shatter. Then, to his amazement, all the pieces of slivered gla.s.s 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.

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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 ma.s.sive 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 b.u.t.ton-Bright, who was about as bright as a cloth-covered b.u.t.ton.

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.

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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.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

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 Kab.u.mpo, the Elegant Elephant, to draw the float through the streets, as he thought it would be too heavy for the Sawhorse. Kab.u.mpo 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 circ.u.mstance 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.

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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."

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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 a.s.sure 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.

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CHAPTER FOUR:

AN UNFORTUNATE OUTCOME