Dorothy In the Land of Monsters

by Garten Gevedon

  “Oh, well then I will have your maiden, who can sew well, do it for you,” he says.

  “If she’s cool with it, then I am,” I say, not wanting to put work onto Jellia’s shoulders when there’s no way in Oz I’m getting in a balloon just to float around with no idea how to get where I’m going while flying predators come at me and I’m stuck in some basket thousands of feet above the ground.

  “All right. Three days is what it will take, I imagine. I will send for you,” he says.

  “Okay, thanks,” I say, and we take our leave.

  We head out into the palace and Nick leads me into the gardens; I assume to take a stroll before we go back to our room. As we walk by a bed of twirling gladiolas in a pastel rainbow of colors, he says nothing, deep in thought.

  “So I suppose you will leave soon,” he says breaking our silence

  “You know I’d rather stay.”

  “I wish it weren’t so unsure, your travels. To take a balloon into the sky in hopes you end up in the right realm concerns me.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  After a moment of thinking it over, he says, “But you must try.”

  Wow.

  “If you insist,” I say shaking my head.

  It’s a huge risk. Vampires fly, so we could still get attacked in transit. So many things could go wrong, and it would be so easy to end up in the wrong place. It’s crazy to do this. But he’s happy to see me go no matter what.

  “Why do you look… angry?” Nick asks.

  “It seems like you want to get rid of me real bad, no matter how great the risk,” I say with a huff.

  “You cannot be serious!” he says, getting irritated.

  “I could die on the journey, end up in the wrong place—that’s the most probable outcome—but as long as I’m gone, it seems you’ll be happy.”

  “All I want is for you to be safe.”

  “Yet you want me to take off in a balloon hoping to travel to another realm. That’s frigging nuts. I could end up in another realm even worse than this one! Who knows where I could land!”

  “It is how he arrived. His logic makes sense. You both arrived by air. If you leave by air, cross the desert by air, it is logical you would end up back in the realm from which you came.”

  “I guess I’ll find out.”

  “Why are you angry with me?”

  “Aww, gee, I don’t know, maybe because you seem to just want me to get out of your presence any way possible and it makes me wonder if you are still lying to me—I’ll admit it.”

  “Now I am angry with you,” he says, offended, his eyes wide and his arms crossing over his chest.

  “If logical thinking is driving this decision, it’s logical to think such a thing, is it not?”

  “No! If you can leave, then you must leave. You are a target, Dorothy! They would kill you first! You killed two Vampire Witches! Two!” he shouts catching the attention of every courtier in the palace gardens, and there are many.

  From what I know of them, the whole city will know about this argument by the end of the day. Who cares? I’ll be dead soon anyway, dropped out of the sky by a vampire because I was the idiot floating around in a balloon over their heads.

  “You have the boots and whoever kills you takes the boots. How can you not see this!?” he shouts exasperated.

  “Fine! I’m leaving! You win!” I holler back, giving them a real show.

  “I do not win! Do you know what it means to fight a war with a broken heart, to attempt survival knowing if I do, I will live on without my love, forever?”

  Now I feel like a total jerk.

  “I hate this, Nick,” I say and crumble to tears again.

  We stop walking and he pulls me to him.

  “I am sorry I yelled,” he deflates as he holds me.

  “Promise me you won’t die,” I say to him.

  “No, I cannot make that promise.”

  “I won’t go until you promise me you will fight to live with everything you have, everything you are. I won’t,” I insist.

  “Dorothy—” he starts, and I cut him off.

  “If you’re just going to give up, then I’m staying. You need protection,” I decide. “I will be in another realm, yes, but we will still be in love, and I will talk to you in my head, share my day’s events with you, and I’d prefer not to be talking to a dead man.” He smiles at me, caressing my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “We can still be in love, even if we are apart. Stay alive, for me, please,” I beg.

  “All right, Dorothy, I will do my very best.”

  “Promise.”

  “I promise,” he says, scoops me up into his arms, presses his plush lips to mine, and carries me to our room.

  Jellia informed me this morning at breakfast they had finished the balloon—made it out of green-colored silk and coated it with glue. They fastened a large basket to the bottom and built a structure to attach the silk to the basket while a fire burns to inflate the balloon with hot air. Being the con man that he is, he sent word to the people of the city he will visit a great brother wizard who lives in the clouds, and I am to travel with him. The news spread fast and now everyone will come to watch our departure. In a frigging balloon.

  This sucks—I do not want to leave Nick. These last hours together we’ve spent saying goodbye, and I couldn’t stop crying for a while there, but it was making it harder for Nick, so I put on a brave face.

  “It is time, Dorothy,” he informs me.

  Oswald ordered the palace staff to carry the balloon out in front of the palace, so that’s where Nick leads Toto and me. As the seconds pass, my heart breaks more and more. When we arrive at the front door of the palace, he pulls me to him and kisses me; I hope not for the very last time.

  Once more before I get on that balloon, I will kiss him goodbye, but after that, it will be over between us. Well, not over—my memories him will exist as long as I do. But the physical part of our relationship will end. He will be worlds away, and I will never lay eyes on him again, never touch him again, kiss him… Regret for leaving him will plague me for life. If something were to happen to him though, I know I would regret staying here.

  As we walk out onto the steps of the palace, thousands of people gather around the inflated balloon held down by a rope. All I want to do is plant my feet and refuse to take another step. If I did that though, Nick would just pick me up and throw me right in that basket.

  Thousands of shifters, zombies, and humans gaze upon the emerald green hot-air balloon with so much curiosity and awe having no comprehension of the science behind its functionality, believing it is magic.

  Nick leads me over to the basket with Toto at my heels, where Ardie, Oswald, and the Werelion wait for us. Ardie picks up Toto to give him a hug goodbye. Toto licks his face in farewell, giving a slight whimper of sadness, knowing he will not be seeing him again. I hug the Werelion who holds me tight in a sad embrace.

  “I will miss you, Dorothy,” he whimpers.

  “Oh, I’ll miss you too Werelion. So much,” I tell him as I pet his mane and hold him close.

  Ardie hands Toto to Nick, takes me in his arms and hugs me tight to his chest while Nick gives Toto a long hug, and Toto whimpers as he licks his cheek goodbye.

  “I will miss you, Dorothy, always,” Ardie says, choked up.

  “Me too,” I say, getting teary all over again.

  “Waldy has asked me to take his place here,” he says with a sad chuckle.

  “There is no one better for the job,” I tell him, and he beams.

  “Thank you. I like it here, and I like these people. Although I will miss you every day, I will be happy here.”

  “Oh, Ardie, I’ll miss you too.”

  “I wish you a safe journey back to Kansas. It has been my great honor to know you, and to be your friend,” he says and hugs me one last time.

  When he releases me from our hug, he kisses my cheek before I turn to Nick. He puts Toto into the basket of the balloon, and when he fac
es me, I throw my arms around him in a desperate embrace. He hugs me back, running his fingers through my hair, breathing me in, and I do the same one last time. He pulls back and looks at me, tears welling up in both our eyes, and we kiss once more. I give it everything I’ve got, holding his perfect face in my hands, being sure to remember every detail of him so I can carry it with me always. When he pulls back and looks into my eyes, he smiles, and I muster a smile back.

  “It is time.”

  Unable to keep it in any longer, I burst into tears as he hugs me once more before he lets me go. After I take a few deep breaths to collect myself, he scoops me up and puts me into the very large wicker basket.

  “Goodbye, Dorothy. My heart belongs to you. I will love you forever,” he says and I lean over the edge of the basket and kiss him one last time with tears rolling down my cheeks.

  When he pulls away, I tell him, “I love you, Nick.”

  He steps back, away from the basket, and stands beside Werelion who cries as he watches on.

  “Don’t go, Dorothy,” Werelion says and bawls.

  I don’t want to go. It seems insane to do this, but I suppose I have no choice at this point—I guess it’s the only way. I bend down and scoop Toto up into my arms and look upon my love, my friends, and the people of this city, the zombies and the shifters intermingled with humans like Jellia who stands a few feet away and smiles at me with sad eyes as she waves goodbye. I wave back and do my best to smile through my tears. I will miss them all.

  Nick and Ardie help Oswald into the basket, and when he looks upon his people, he says in a loud voice, “I am now going away to visit my wizard brother in the clouds to perform some very important wizardry, but I will leave enough of my magic behind to run and protect this city in my absence. While I am gone, Wise Zombie Millard will rule over you. I command you to obey him as you would me and if you do not, you will suffer my wrath.”

  The balloon tugs hard at the rope that holds it to the ground when Toto growls. I look to see what he’s growling at and see a cat shifter and her cat shifter toddler, only four or five years old, hissing at Toto. I hold him tighter to me, but when she bares her claws, Toto’s had enough—he springs from my arms and leaps for her. The little kitten shifter hisses and runs off away from its mother. When Toto gives chase, I jump out of the basket to run after him—I won’t leave without Toto.

  “Toto! Come back here!” I call as I chase him, but he ignores me. Ferocious barks ring out as he tears away after the kitten shifter.

  “Come, Dorothy!” cries the Wizard. “Hurry, or the balloon will fly away.”

  “Hang on! I need to get Toto,” I call to him as I navigate through the crowd as fast as I can.

  When I find Toto, he’s barking into the closed door of a store. The kitty shifter has run inside and stands behind the clear glass wall of the door, hissing at Toto who growls and barks, ready to tear her apart. I scoop him up, rush back over to the balloon, and when I am within a few steps of it, Oz holds out his hands to help me into the basket. When I reach out, CRACK go the ropes, and the balloon rises into the air without us. Nick and Ardie both jump for the broken ropes, but the balloon floats away too fast.

  “Come back!” I scream.

  “Sorry, I can’t come back, my dear,” calls Oswald from the basket. “I don’t know how to steer this thing! Goodbye!”

  “Goodbye!” shouts everyone, all eyes turned upward to where the Wizard rides in the basket, rising higher and higher into the sky with each passing moment.

  26

  Into the Undead Jungle

  The four of us, along with Toto, sit on the floor of the Hall of Mirrors in the center of the room, surrounded by infinite reflections of us from every angle in every direction.

  “It is not so unlucky, Dorothy,” Ardie says, “for this Palace and the Emerald City belong to us now, and we can do just as we please. When I remember that a short time ago, vampires nailed me to a pole in a farmer’s cornfield, and now I am the ruler of this beautiful City, I am quite satisfied with my lot. You too could enjoy life here, Dorothy.”

  “Yeah, I think so too, your majesty,” I say with a giggle.

  “Your majesty? No, I prefer Wise Zombie Millard, His Excellency, Ruler of Emerald, and if you disobey me, you will suffer the wrath of Waldy the Terrible.”

  “Terrible liar is more like it.”

  “That he is.”

  “Nick is a ruler too now,” Werelion says and swigs from his emerald bottle of liquid courage.

  “Now that you have found your courage, Werelion, you can fulfill your destiny to become King of the Shifters,” Nick says.

  “With all the liquid courage I’ve drunk, I will never be afraid again! I will go into that Shifter Jungle and claim my throne. I’ll say, ‘Hello, fellow Shifters! Meet your King! Give me my throne,’ and I’ll roar so loud even the trees will tremble with fear, and all the shifters will be so nice to me because I’m so brave and ferocious,” he says, slurring almost every word.

  “Here’s to hoping that works out for you,” I say, slurring a little myself as I grab his bottle of liquid courage and take a swig. “Yuck,” I say and shudder as I hand it back to him.

  “If you don’t like it, why do you drink it?” Nick asks me.

  “Why the frig not?” My native New York accent always seems stronger when I get drunk, not that I’ve gotten drunk so many times. I don’t like alcohol too much most of the time although it felt right considering the circumstances. Am I celebrating or mourning though? That I’m not sure of yet.

  “What is frig?” Werelion asks.

  “Ah, a good question. It’s a euthnistic, um, eu-phe-mis-tic emphasizer, to be pasficic, spasficic, spespific, sp-specific. We use it for emphsasis, empha-sis,” I say and huff a breath. “Why the frig can’t I talk?”

  “Because you are inebriated,” Ardie says.

  “Right. Right, that’s true.”

  “Frig means emphasis?” Werelion asks, still not getting it.

  “It’s used for emphasis, but it means, ‘to masturbate,’ so yeah. That’s what it means, man. I mean, not a man. Shifter. Are you a man still? How does that work?”

  “If I want to be, I can be,” Werelion says with a nod.

  “Cool.”

  “We all have titles and you do not, Dorothy. You should have one too. I will give you a title.” Ardie offers.

  “Thanks, Ardie. I’ll take a title, for sure.”

  “How about Princess Potty Mouth of Emerald City?” Ardie suggests, and I guffaw.

  “I love it. That’s the perfect title for me.”

  “Dorothy will return to Winkie Land with me if she cannot find a way back to Kansas. Whatever her title, Winkie Land will be at the end,” Nick insists, and Ardie rolls his zombie eyes.

  “Ooh! I could be the Duchess of Oz,” I suggest, and it’s Nick’s turn to roll his eyes while Ardie grins at me like I’m a cute puppy. “Oh, I’m so adorable,” I say in a little voice and blow a raspberry. “Give me more of that liquid courage, Werelion.”

  When he passes me the bottle, I take a swig—it burns—and then I gag a little. Alcohol is so gross. “Why did I drink that?” I say and shudder like I do every time I drink alcohol. If I didn’t trust them with my life a million times over, I would never dare do this. Most of the time, I don’t enjoy being out of control that way. Life is chaotic enough. After everything, I thought if not now then never. I think I’m settling on never. Alcohol is not for me.

  “Dorothy does not need a title,” Werelion slurs and scoffs.

  “I do too!” I protest. Why should they all be kings while I’m still just plain Dorothy? I did all the same stuff they did. So sexist.

  “You already have one! You are a sorceress,” Werelion says. “That is more powerful than a King or a whatever you said.”

  “Duchess.”

  “What’s that?” Werelion asks.

  “Some kind of royal person. I have no clue. Something about a duchy,” I say and giggle. “Douc
he.” Hilarious.

  “Why are you laughing?” Nick asks me with an exasperated chortle.

  “What is a douche?” Ardie asks.

  “The answer to both your questions is the same. A douche is an apparatus a woman uses to clean out her vagina,” I tell them, rolling my wrists to emphasize the word vagina. Nick guffaws while Ardie blanches, and Werelion giggles wearing an impish grin.

  “We should stop calling your realm the civilized realm and start calling it the vulgar realm,” Ardie says.

  “Come on, you guys must have vulgarities too. Tell them to me so I can use them.”

  “We have them, but there are nowhere near as many as you have,” Nick says.

  “Give me a good one. One I can use,” I say, and Nick chuckles.

  “Scalawag,” Ardie says, and Nick shakes his head.

  “That is not a vulgarity—it is a word. She means a spawl. What you call swearing we call spawling,” Nick explains.

  “Poop-noddy!” Werelion bursts in a eureka moment.

  “Poop-noddy? I love it! What does it mean?”

  “Sexual intercourse,” Werelion says with a proud grin.

  “What? I don’t know how you guys do it, but there are other ways,” I say and Nick laughs.

  “What other ways?” Ardie asked with a perplexed grimace and Nick stifles his laughter to explain.

  “Poop is a word for feces in her realm.”

  “Feces? Oh, well… Ohhh, I see. Ha!” Ardie says and chuckles

  “Poop-noddy isn’t so vulgar,” Nick says.

  “Can you do any better?” Werelion snorts.

  “You tell me—for sexual intercourse, the terms we have to describe the act are touse, swive, and wap. Wapping is the closest to a vulgarity of the three. Then there’re words for oral, the most common being, ‘Rumming,’ or ‘Rum me,’ is a popular vulgar phrase.”

  “Rum me? I don’t think I can use that. Rumming might work though. We have rimming. That’s similar, but it happens at the back door.”

  “Ugh!” Ardie grunts with a grimace and I laugh so hard tears come to my eyes.

  “Zig-zig!” Werelion bursts.