Chapter Sixteen:

 

The next few days were busy ones for them all.  Dorothy saw as much as she could of her former companions, but she was very busy getting ready for the trip home. All of them, in fact, were very busy.

Graham, though quite ambivalent about leaving Oz and returning to Effbeeye, did feel obligated to Dorothy, so he'd agreed to make the return trip with her, to try to help operate the balloon.

He was concerned, however, that this decision on his part would leave the office of Wizard vacant, and all of Oz without leadership. So Graham had insisted that the Lion, Margot, and the Scarecrow should form a sort of Emerald City Tribunal and rule Oz jointly in his stead.

According to Graham, Margot should handle all public funds and taxation, and Barney was to administer social services. The Scarecrow, he contended, should be put in charge of criminal justice. Graham's idea was that no one in Oz would dare indulge in criminal behavior if it would mean crossing the infamous Scarecrow. When it was pointed out to Graham that there were no laws in Oz, he had simply said:

"So make some. At least it'll keep him out of trouble. Look what he did to the Witch! Wasn't THAT justice?" 

All three had immediately flatly refused these prospective careers in public service. The Scarecrow had been particularly adamant, and had pointed out to Graham that he had about as much interest in law and order as he did in hopscotch tournaments and quilting bees, and that he didn't much care if all of Oz should be inundated by a flood of boiling ash tomorrow, and that Graham was clearly insane as well as offensive and insulting, and that Graham was just being vindictive, anyway.

But in the end, they'd all had to agree. Graham had declared that he would never leave Oz unless they did, and that Special Agent Dorothy Gale was sure to just attempt the risky trip alone, should he back out. They all knew this to be true, of course, so they really had no choice.

So, as Dorothy tried to learn as much as she could about meteorology, interdimensional physics, and operating a hot air balloon, her friends were spending their days suffering through an informal hands-on crash course in government administration.

Other activities took up much of their time as well. Margot had to settle her late brother's estate, and to slog through the legal tangle of ceding the castle and adjacent property to the newly formed Oz Air Taxi Corporation.

Barney had determined to put the Emerald City Zoo under new management, and to reinstate all those animals who'd been exiled against their will to the zoo immediately. He'd made several short trips to the halfway house in the forest to discuss the matter with the exiles.

The Scarecrow had spent a good bit of time inspecting the balloon and helping Graham prepare it for flight, and, oddly, the two of them had also taken to spending hours in intense conversation. They would never be buddies, exactly, and Graham never did allow the Scarecrow to call him "Will", but some inexplicable understanding did seem to be forming between them. 

Every night, however, no matter how busy they were, the original five would meet at the Cappuccino Bar at the Wash and Brush Up. The days events would be discussed (and often laughed at), various intellectual debates would rage, news would be exchanged, and no one ever brought up the imminent breaking of their fellowship, only days away. These nightly meetings had their bittersweet edge, but not one of them ever missed a night. So few nights remained.

Often, some or all of them would go out to dinner afterward, and once the Scarecrow had dragged the whole crew to a symphony that featured a lead violinist he favored. Another time, Barney had insisted they join him at an all-lion performance of  "The Hunt", a dramatization of one of his species' sacred texts. Sometimes, Dorothy found she could not bear to join in whatever activity might be planned for the evening after the coffee house, and would just go back to her hotel room alone, order some room service for herself and Toto, watch television, and float aimlessly in a cold fog of bitter confusion.

On the last night before her departure, she was fresh out of the shower and getting ready for a final night out with the gang, and was annoyed and unnerved to discover herself dithering over what to wear. She had never before dithered in her life, so this was an alarming development for her.

She was just vacillating between the pink silk sheath with the mandarin collar and the black crepe with the daring neckline when she heard a discreet tapping at her hotel room door.

She knew who it was instantly. She recognized the knock. What this instant recognition meant was something she decided it would be better not to think about.

She threw on the thick terry bathrobe the hotel provided to all its guests and went to open the door, her stomach doing unscheduled maneuvers and making her feel vaguely sick, and her pulse fluttering in her throat as though she'd somehow swallowed a live hummingbird. She opened the door.

"Hi," she said. "Am I late?"

"Not yet," the Scarecrow answered. "But you will be, judging from your progress so far. Your hair is still wet."

"Yeah, damnit, I know. Come in. I'm having a problem with these blasted dresses. I never was much of a fashion plate. I swear, it's easier to choose firearms. Want to have a seat? Just dump that stuff off the sofa, I still have to pack it."

He moved some of the piles of clothes and things aside and sat down in a corner of the couch. He'd been carrying a package, nicely wrapped in gift paper and silk ribbon, which he set down at his feet. Toto immediately began to investigate the package, and would have nibbled at the corners if the Scarecrow had not shooed him away.

"Really, Dorothy, you should fold your things before you pack them. Everything is getting wrinkled."

"Um. Care for a drink? There's a mini-bar."

"Thank you, no. I'm not staying long."

"Oh."

A small, lonely silence followed, long enough to be uncomfortable.

"The black one, I think," he finally said.

"The black . . . huh?"

"The black crepe dress. Suits you better than the pink, a bit."

"Oh. Oh, I see. Thanks."

"Well. I won't keep you. Barney and Margot have a major evening planned, from what I can gather. You won't want to keep them waiting. I just wanted to drop this off for you, beforehand."

He nudged the gift at his feet with the toe of his shoe.

"What is it?"

He laughed. "What does it look like?"

She smiled. "Hmm. It looks kind of like a present to me. But it must look like a snack to Toto - he's chewing on it again."

He removed the package from the floor and the inquisitive lamb and stood up, then set the gift on a table, out of Toto's reach.

"Just a farewell gift, a little something I thought you needed. Shall I tell the others to expect you in a half hour? Would that be all right?"

"Sure. Don't you want me to open it now?"

"Oh, no, you're busy getting dressed. You might want to open it before you meet us, though.  Then poor Toto can eat the wrappings at last."

He moved to the door, Dorothy following a step or two behind. 

She opened the door for him, and they paused a moment on the threshold.

"So,” he finally said. "I'll be on my way now, see you in a half hour, then, yes? The Cappuccino Bar?"

He was staring at her.

"Yes, okay," she said. "I won't be late. Oh . . . umm . . . thank you. For the present."

"It's nothing," he said.

Another uncomfortable pause ensued, and then they both spoke at once.

"Scarecrow -”

"Dorothy -”

"What?" she asked, sharply. "What were you going to say?"

He was gazing into her eyes, as though he would pierce the flesh and bone of her face and look directly into her thoughts, if he could.

"I was going to ask . . .” he said, and stopped, momentarily. Then he went on, determined, clearly, to level with her.

"I wanted to understand something. I must tell you, Graham's descriptions of this FBI, whatever it is, don't sound particularly appealing. You are going home because it's what you want to do, is that right? Not because it's what you think you're supposed to do? I'd like to be certain of that."

Dorothy sighed. No use dissembling with him. He could spot an emotional discrepancy, however small, a mile away, like a shark smells blood in the water. And what she was feeling right now was not a small conflict, not by any means.

"I'd like to be certain of it, too," she admitted. "But I can't. You're right, of course, you're pretty much always right, on things like this. Sometimes I act more out of a sense of obligation than anything else. But that's who I am. I can't be somebody else. Not even for you."

"I don't ask that," he said, quietly. "Who you are - it's the very thing that I've . . . come to find . . . of value. But are you quite sure that's ALL you are? Isn't it possible that there's more?"

This conversation was quickly becoming unbearable. It was time to end it.

"I don't belong here," she asserted with manufactured conviction, not at all sure whom she hoped to convince. "What more? You're overestimating me."

"Am I? Are you sure? Well, then, my apologies. I'll say good night for now. Half an hour, mind. We all have a reservation at 'Verdigris' for eight, and they'll never hold the table if we're late. Maurice, the headwaiter there? He's the worst despot in the city."   

"Is he the one with the enormous nose?" she asked, trying her best to smile.

"No, that's Raoul. Maurice has the ludicrous toupee. But they both have the classic waiter's hideous temperament, so we mustn't incur their wrath. Good night, Dorothy."

"Later," she said, unhappily.

He left, and she shut the door with a small, hollow thud. Then she got the gift he'd left her and sat down on the couch with it.

She undid the wrappings and ribbons and found a medium sized box. She took the lid off and found a drawing atop a layer of teal tissue paper.

Charcoal and oil pastel on heavy parchment. A likeness of her, surrounded by stalks of corn, the impossibly clear Oz sunshine drawing red and gold fire from her hair and glossing the fine bones of her face. Lips parted, as though to ask an important question.

Tears blurred her vision as she pulled the tissue away to reveal the rest of the gift. An odd, harsh sound escaped her throat when she saw what was there, something between a cry of pain and a peal of laughter.

His farewell gift to her. A fantastically beautiful pair of shoes. Red as rubies, scarlet as blood. Three inch heels and an improbably thin ankle strap. They'd be sheer torture to wear, and would instantly make any woman who donned them feel like a goddess.

Dorothy, laughing and crying at once, bent to put the splendid red shoes on her feet.

And she wore them, in spite of the pain, for all of that final evening with her friends in Oz.

 

In the morning, the same improbable golden sunlight that had illuminated the Scarecrow's drawing shone on the hot air balloon that had brought Will Graham to Oz, and would now take Dorothy Gale away from it. The great multi-colored balloon was moored in the small plaza outside the Wizard's Hall, fully inflated and ready to ascend, bobbing ponderously on the mild early morning breeze.

A raised platform had been hastily erected there beside the balloon, convenient to the gondola gate, raw lengths of unfinished two-by-fours festooned with emerald green bunting, rough steps up to the platform bleeding sawdust and sap, splintery rails at the top. A small brass band had assembled beneath the platform, and the various musicians were tuning up.

To Dorothy, standing outside the great doors of the Hall with Graham, Barney, Margot, Toto and the Scarecrow, the whole thing looked disconcertingly similar to a gallows, bunting or no bunting. 

The plaza was packed with Emerald City citizens. It seemed as though all of Emerald City had turned out to bid farewell to their Wizard, and to see him off. Graham was appalled at the size of the crowd, and very nearly became catatonic when he realized that he would be expected to make a speech.

The Scarecrow took him aside and talked to him quietly for several minutes, and apparently this helped, a bit. Graham's face was still white as a sheet and his mouth was twitching, but he was able to ascend the rickety steps of the platform with the others and his flip-flop clad feet only dragged a little. 

As soon as the six of them had reached the top of the platform, a great cheer rose up from the crowd of spectators and the band struck up an enthusiastic air that made them all jump.

"Oh shit," moaned Graham, ice blue eyes huge and hectic in his white face. "What do I do now?"

"Well, I think you ought to consider having that lead trombone killed at once," the Scarecrow said. "Barring that, just say anything. You're still the Wizard, Oz. They just want to hear your voice; they don't expect you to make sense."

Graham took a deep shuddering breath and moved to the edge of the platform. The band immediately stopped playing and a great hush fell over the crowd. Graham stood at the edge a moment, gripping the splintery rails and swaying slightly, as though listening for some obscure vibration only he could hear.

"Umm . . . hi, everybody . . . I'm  . . . I'm glad to see you all . . . and . . .”

He trailed off a moment, and the feverish sheen of raw panic in his eyes slowly faded and his posture straightened as his strange gift for empathy picked up the massed waves of expectation and goodwill from the crowd.

"ON THIS DAY," Oz the Great and Powerful resumed. "I, YOUR WIZARD, WILL PERFORM A FEAT NEVER BEFORE SEEN IN THE REALM OF OZ. IN THIS FLYING DEVICE BEFORE YOU, I WILL RETURN TO THE LAND OF MY ORIGIN, TO CONFER, CONVERSE, AND OTHERWISE CONSULT WITH MY FELLOW WIZARDS."

"I've worked with him for days," the Scarecrow whispered to the others, under the cover of the cheers of the audience. "But I can't seem to do anything about that compulsive alliteration."

"IN MY ABSENCE, MARGOT THE TIN WOMAN, BARNEY THE SQUEAMISH LION, AND THE SCARECROW WILL BE IN CHARGE. MARGOT'S GOOD SENSE AND PRACTICAL NATURE WILL SERVE YOU ALL WELL. BARNEY'S MAGNIFICENT KINDNESS AND COMPASSIONATE HEART WILL NEVER FAIL YOU. AND THE SCARECROW'S STRINGENT SENSE OF JUSTICE OUGHT TO KEEP YOU ALL IN LINE. I'D MIND MY MANNERS FROM NOW ON, IF I WERE YOU."

The crowd responded with another cheer, and some anxious whispering about the Scarecrow's well known implacable views on the subject of rudeness.

"That sneaky little fuck!" Margot whispered to her companions. "Now he's got us. I thought we could just quit doing all this stupid government shit once he was safely out of here. Now we'll never get out of it. Damn!"

"ONE OTHER THING I WILL DO," Graham added in his Wizard voice. "I WILL RETURN OUR MOST HONORED GUEST TO HER HOME, AS SHE HAS REQUESTED. I GIVE YOU SPECIAL AGENT DOROTHY GALE, SLAYER OF WITCHES. ALL OF OZ OWES HER A DEBT OF GRATITUDE."

The crowd went wild. Dorothy wished a black hole she could disappear into would magically open up at her feet.

"Sonofabitch," she growled through her teeth. "I'll kill him."

Blushing in embarrassment, she nodded to the ecstatic crowd of citizens.

"AND NOW, CITIZENS OF EMERALD CITY, I BID YOU FAREWELL. I'VE ENJOYED BEING YOUR WIZARD AND WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU ALL. MAY YOU ALL FIND GOOD FORTUNE ALWAYS AND MAY THE FORCES OF EVIL BECOME CONFUSED ON THE WAY TO YOUR HOUSE. GOOD-BYE!"

He turned away from the screaming, cheering crowd of his former subjects and faced the cool glares of Dorothy and her companions. And wilted immediately under the onslaught of annoyed hostility they were all broadcasting.

"You SAID to say 'anything', Scarecrow," he argued. "I can't help it if I knew what they wanted to hear. Let's get this show on the road, okay? I'm sick of all these people staring at me."

He peered at all four of them for a moment, taking some arcane reading from their respective demeanors, then got into the gondola of the balloon and busied himself with the gas meter, to give them a semblance of privacy for their good-byes.

Dorothy looked at her former companions, with whom she had laughed and argued and faced unimaginable dangers and suffered defeats and won victories and learned much. The three of them gazed back, and for a time, it seemed that all four were paralyzed.

"So, this is it, then," Barney said at last, and burst into tears as he crushed her in a furry feline hug.

"Good-bye, kitty-cat," she whispered, hugging him back as hard as she could and scratching behind one of his ears. "I'll think of you every time I open a can of Fancy Feast. Take care of yourself. Take care of the others, too. You're the conscience of the group, the best of us, you know it? They'll need you, I think, running Oz."

She released the Lion and he turned away to kneel beside Toto and commune with the cute little lamb he'd grown so fond of one last time.

Margot was next.

"I'm not gonna cry, girlfriend," she said. "My face'll rust."

She took Dorothy in her massive tin arms for a quick hug and whispered in her ear. "Are you sure you wanna do this? Have you thought about it? You do know what's going on here, don't you? With you and him?"

"Oh, Jesus, Margot, I've hardly thought of anything else," Dorothy replied, an anguished whisper. "I don't have to tell you that. But it couldn't . . . work. I know it, and . . . he knows it too."

"I'm not sure either one of you knows a damn thing." Margot whispered fiercely and wiped a tear out of her eye. "You're as stiff-necked as an ox, and he can be pretty fucking dense too, for an evil genius. Oh, crap! Now I AM crying, after all. Listen, if you ever see a tornado over there in Effbeeye . . .”

Dorothy laughed. "I'll know just what to do. Say good-bye to Judy for me."

"I'll do that," Margot said, and turned away, quickly.

Only the Scarecrow was left. She dragged her head around to look at him, standing stock still on the wobbly platform, red eyes as lifeless and devoid of sparks as a fire long since put out. They moved together and then he took her in his arms with the slow caution of a man handling a landmine.

"Scarecrow," she said. "Oh, Scarecrow. You know I'll miss you most of all."

She could smell a faint scent of new mown hay, could feel the beating of his heart in his straw chest, and was not at all surprised to make this small discovery. She'd guessed he had one, long before this. She hugged a little tighter.

"And I, you," he said. "You'll remember all the things you did here in Oz, once you're back where you came from? You'll remember who you are and you'll do the things you want and never for a moment listen to those who'd constrain you? Even if the voice of constraint is your own? Will you promise me that?"

"I'll promise to try. I'll think of you when it gets hard not to listen."

"I could hardly ask more than that. And I'll think of you whenever a question of mercy arises. No doubt various individuals will have cause to thank you for it, down the line. Good-bye, Dorothy," he said, and planted a chaste farewell kiss on her forehead.

She laughed, a bitter, tinny sound, like a small electric drill piercing some hard surface.

"Oh, God, don't be such a wuss. Kiss me for real. Once, at least. We can have that much, can't we?"  Tears were stinging her eyes, burning on her cheeks.

"Don't," he said.

"Don't  . . . don't what?"

"Don't cry," he answered, and swiftly bent to her lips.

One kiss. The first and the last. He tasted good to her, like chewing on a blade of grass at a summer picnic, or in a spring meadow, perhaps. The raw wood platform, the balloon, the crowd, the universe, time, everything, all melted away and down into this one moment of contact. Air and earth, fire and ice. Everything there was, condensed into a single simple physical gesture. It seemed to her to go on forever, but it was still over far too soon. 

They fell away from each other and Dorothy felt as though every atom of her being had just been rearranged. Never to return to the original configuration. Good. She didn't want to be the same Dorothy she had been anymore.

The balloon awaited. Graham inside, watching her with his deep, haunted blue eyes.

"Good-bye, all of you," she said, then picked Toto up, almost blind with tears, and tucked him under her arm. She stumbled into the gondola of the balloon.

Graham was watching her.

"What the FUCK are you staring at?" she snarled at him, her voice roughened by tears and pain and an inchoate objectless anger. "Let's go. Loose the damn ropes."

"Umm. I already did," he answered mildly, apparently untroubled by her snarling rudeness. In fact, he had actually started to smile a little. The balloon was very gradually rising above the platform.

"Well," he said. "That's not exactly true. Actually, I cut them . . .”

The balloon rose another few inches and Graham stepped a few inches closer to her.

"You -” she started to say.

"Cut the ropes," he finished, moving still closer and smiling ever more broadly. "All but two. These two."

 

He pulled out a pocket knife and sawed through the remaining two mooring ropes he meant. The balloon, freed, popped another few inches into the air.

Graham stepped close enough to Dorothy to kiss her, and for a strange, confused moment, she thought that was what he meant to do.

"You don't really want to leave Oz at all," he said. "That horrible pain you're feeling? That's your heart breaking. You may not know it, but I do. So, forgive me, but  -  "

He suddenly seized her in both hands, her and Toto both, his hands and arms roughened and strengthened by many years of work as a marine mechanic, and lifted her above the floor of the gondola.

"Graham -” she gasped. "What the hell -”

Will Graham, who could not help but know how people felt, sometimes even better than they did themselves, did the best thing he could think of to do for her. He lifted her above the level of the gondola wall, thrust her out over the side, and called down to the platform, six feet below.

"Hey, Scarecrow - you guys - CATCH!"

And he tossed her, Toto still under her arm, out of the balloon and into the arms of those below, just as he'd once tossed a frightened camera man with a terrible fear of heights out of the very same balloon.

"I may be a crazed, freaked-out recovering alcoholic," he called down to them, laughing madly.  "But I'm still the Wizard! You better believe it! Good luck. Good-bye!"

Down on the platform, Barney had managed to catch Toto, and was baby-talking the small lamb like there was no tomorrow, in between crazed guffaws of relieved joy. Margot was jumping up and down and clanking and rattling the wooden platform to its foundations while she waved at the ascending Graham and laughed and laughed. The band struck up a new, even more enthusiastic tune. The crowd of Emerald City residents roared with wild approval, absolute suckers for a happy ending.

The Scarecrow, of course, had caught Dorothy neatly as she fell, as a man might contrive to catch an angel who'd been suddenly and miraculously tossed out of Heaven. He dallied criminally about setting her back on her feet, preferring, instead, to hold her in his arms as long as she'd permit it. He thought he might never set her down again. Certainly he'd never, EVER, let her out of his sight again.

Dorothy, for her part, was too busy kissing him on his ears and nose and eyes and cheeks and throat and chin, and so forth, plus hugging him around the neck so hard she bordered on strangling him, to be particularly eager to be set down.

"Thank God," she breathed. "Thank God. I am SUCH an idiot! I really would have gone!"

"I must be an idiot, too, whatever people say about me," he answered, voice choked by her happy stranglehold. "I really would have let you go. Perhaps we both need a keeper. Umm . . . I hate to ask  . . .  but would you mind easing your grip a little, please, Dorothy? I can't breathe."

And so the spontaneous mass celebration raged on, and they all watched Will Graham, the flawed but eminently well qualified Wizard of Oz, float away into the perfect blue Oz sky until he was out of sight.

Everyone was so busy laughing and cheering and whatnot that no one noticed the cloud of pipe smoke that was coalescing on the platform until Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, fully materialized, stepped out of it.

They all stared at him, momentarily nonplused. It had been so long since any of them had even thought about Glinda, that, for a moment, they were hard put to remember exactly who he was.

"Oh, dear, Ms. Gale," he said, pretending to be distressed. "You seem to have missed your ride. And I was so sure the Wizard could help you."

Dorothy smiled as the Scarecrow set her down at last. But she still kept hold of his arm, and also slipped her hand into his coat pocket, unwilling to be too far out of contact, just yet.

"The Wizard DID help me, Glinda," she said. "You were right about him. He did know everything. In a way. He sure knew exactly what to do for me."

"But how do you expect to get home now? Haven't you forgotten something?" Glinda asked.

He had a small knowing smirk playing about his lips, as though he was in sole possession of some vital knowledge, and was quite pleased with himself about it.

So he was a bit surprised to hear both Barney and Margot laughing at him loudly, and to see Dorothy and the Scarecrow grinning maliciously, as though they both knew an even bigger secret than he did.

"Oh, Glinda, you're not going to go on and on about that Ruby Brain now, are you?" the Scarecrow asked, already bored with the entire subject. He slipped his own six-fingered hand into the pocket Dorothy was currently occupying. "We're all a bit busy at the moment, as you can see."

"Oh, wow!" Dorothy exclaimed. "I clean forgot I even had it!"

"It IS magic, you know," Glinda said, rather offended by their casual attitudes. "You can use the Brain to go home, Ms. Gale. I'd have told you before, but you wouldn't have believed me."

Dorothy scowled, but she was really too happy to make a thorough job of it.

"Hmm. Let's see . . . you sent me on an epic journey, put me in the path of the Witch, let me fight my way across Oz and back, and nearly got me killed about a dozen times over because . . . why? Because I wouldn't have believed you? Didn't it ever occur to you to just try me?"

"Well . . . no," Glinda said, uncomfortably. "I hadn't thought of that."

They all stared at him for a moment, and then simultaneously cracked up.

When Dorothy was through laughing, she addressed Glinda again.

"Listen, I don't think I need this Ruby Brain of yours. I AM home. Does it do anything else?"

"Yeah," said Margot. "Can it turn people into newts or anything?"

"Can it make lions fly, maybe?" Barney asked. "Or make you invisible?"

"No, no, no," Glinda huffed. "None of those things. It doesn't work that way."

"Then what good is it?” Dorothy asked. "What the heck can we do with it?"

"Well," the Scarecrow said. "I do know of a recipe that's absolutely to die f -”

"The Brain is serious magic!" Glinda interrupted, truly offended now. "And you people are thinking of  . . . cooking it! It's ridiculous! The Ruby Brain opens a portal between dimensions. Between Oz and Effbeeye - or any other dimension, for that matter. Doesn't THAT interest any of you maniacs?"

A small pause.

"Hmm. Perhaps that is a BIT interesting," The Scarecrow allowed. "Any dimension? How does it work? And how often can it be used to skip between realities?"

"You just hold it in your hands and say 'there's no place like home', " Glinda said.  "And squeeze it while you say that, sort of moosh it a little. Takes you right back where you came from. Once. You can only use it once."

“That's not really very convenient, Glinda," the Scarecrow argued. "One time use only. I'd say, on the whole, the balloon would be the superior form of transportation. Tell me, could this Brain of yours transport TWO people through dimensions? That might be some help."

He clearly had some obscure idea in mind, and just as clearly would never reveal what it was until he was good and ready.

"It's MAGIC, Scarecrow. It's not supposed to be convenient," Glinda retorted, as though he privately thought the Scarecrow could not possibly be as awesomely bright as everyone said he was. "As to your question - I'm not really sure. But I don't see why two people couldn't use it, if they both said the magic words together, and if they both came from the same dimension in the first place, of course."

"I see," said the Scarecrow, and turned to Dorothy. "I think you ought to keep it. We might find a use for it, someday."

"What's on your mind?" she asked, curious.

"Oh, nothing . . . we'll see."

And he would say no more about it, not that day, anyway. So Glinda, who'd thought to appear magically, save the day, and end the story as the deus ex machina, was quite discomfited by the way actual events turned out and dematerialized in a huffy cloud of smoke.

The assembled citizens of Emerald City could see that the show was pretty much over. After a bit more hesitation, just in case something else might happen, the crowd began to disperse. The plaza quickly emptied and the five companions were left alone on their wooden platform before the Great Hall of Oz. They all walked down the splintery steps to the street level below.

"Let's get this ugly thing out of here tomorrow," Margot said, glancing at the platform. "It's a safety hazard as well as an eyesore."

They were all walking away from the plaza, all though none had yet any conscious destination in mind.

"Amen to that," Dorothy agreed.

"What do you think we oughta do about the Hall?" Barney asked.

"Dynamite immediately comes to mind," the Scarecrow commented.

"Cool!" said Barney, and they all snickered wildly.

"Yeah!" Margot agreed, laughing. "Let's do it! First Oz Tribunal proclamation - no more bad architecture in the Emerald City! Offenders will be blown up! Boy, that Graham was crazy, putting US in charge! When shall we blow the fucker? Tomorrow?"

"No, tonight!" the Scarecrow said, teeth bared and red eyes sparking extravagantly, looking every bit as demented as his reputation suggested he was.

"No, now!" Barney corrected, caught up in the moment. "Let's do it now! Where's some TNT?"

"No, later," Dorothy said to her friends, smiling happily. "I want some coffee first, and then later we can go over to Verdigris and make fun of Maurice. After that, maybe I'll show you guys how to make a pipe bomb. THEN we can come back tonight and blow this awful building to smithereens, okay?"

"Good plan, Dorothy," Margot said, and kissed her cheek. "I think we ought to put you in charge of Oz law enforcement. You've got the experience."

"And the arsenal," Barney added, patting her back. "Good idea, the Cappuccino Bar and Verdigris first. I'm hungry."

He and Margot exchanged a little look, then quickened their pace enough to leave Dorothy and the Scarecrow in the plaza alone, for the moment.

"C'mon, Toto, that's a boy," the Lion called over his shoulder, and Toto took off at a run to catch up with his big best buddy.

Dorothy and the Scarecrow followed their companions slowly, hands still linked and safely hidden in the Scarecrow's coat pocket.

"Quite a pleasant evening you've planned for us, Dorothy, I must say. I'm really very impressed. Coffee, dinner, and wanton destruction. What could be better? I'm wondering, though, if you haven't left something out?"

They stopped, two odd souls alone in an empty space.

"What would that be?" she asked him, smiling.

"You didn't make any dessert plans."

She laughed and closed the small gap between them and kissed him, quite a promising kiss.

"That's what you think," she said. "I've got all kinds of dessert plans. Just you wait. I've got this thing about explosions, it's really kind of perverted . . . I hope I won't shock you."

"Oh? How odd. I'M hoping you will. Explosions? That's interesting. When did you first notice this . . . affinity? Was there a particular moment, a tableau, something from your adolescence, perhaps? Or was it -”

Whatever else he asked her (and we can be certain there was a great deal more he wanted to know) was lost in the sudden noise of a bevy of Oz Air Taxi flying pigs, ferrying some fares overhead, and squealing signals back and forth as they flew.

Dorothy and the Scarecrow walked on slowly, and, in time, caught up with their friends.

After all, there was no reason to rush. All their splendid plans, and all the afternoon and night, and then all the nights ahead after that, were yet to come.