Yankee in Oz

by L. Frank Baum

  "Well, you don't know my father. My father can do anything!" boasted Tompy, sticking out his chin. "Besides," Tompy lowered his voice, forgetting no one possibly could hear them, "the Cape boys think you're lost. We needn't tell the whole story. We'll let them keep on thinking you went down with your ship. I'll tell my family I found you and that 'finders are keepers.' How's that for a neat idea?"

  "Neat but not honest," decided Yankee, after considering Tompy's plan for a moment. "After all the time and money it took to send me up, it wouldn't be fair to let them down. I'll have to report back for a medical check up and all that welcome jazz. They already have the flight history from the capsule radio, but it will be a feather in their caps to know I returned to earth in good shape. A shame I'll not be able to tell them what really happened, but I've a notion no one's going to believe us anyway. Even the other dogs on the base will think I've cooked up a cock and bull dog story if I mention even half of the things that we did in Oz and Ev."

  "Guess you're right," sighed Tompy sinking back against the cushions, "but I still think my Dad can swing a deal with the space outfit. He's a real pushover for dogs, especially smart dogs like you."

  "Oh, come now, I'm not all that smart," answered Yankee. Far from convinced that Tompy's plan would work out, he lifted his nose to sniff the night air and tried to determine what kind of countries spread out below.

  Their return had been so quiet, neither Tompy's mother nor father knew that their missing son was back home. In gloomy silence they were having breakfast when a familiar clatter of feet on the stair made both jump up.

  "Tompy, you're safe--you're home!" gasped Mrs. Terry as he and Yankee charged into the dining room. "The whole town's been searching and searching for you. Where, oh where have you been?"

  "Oh, Oz, Ev, and every old where!" cried Tompy lifting his mother off her feet with his hug, while Yankee bounded over to Mr. Terry, sat down, and gravely extended his paw.

  "Well, hi, boy, where did YOU come from?" Dropping his napkin, Tompy's dad drew the terrier closer.

  "Same places I did. This is Yankee, the space dog who made the moon orbit a few days ago. I found him and he found me and we came back together. Oh, Dad, can we keep him? Can we, can we?"

  "Whoa-ho-wait-a-minute." Plopping down in his chair, Tompy's father tried to make head or tail of all these amazing statements, but with Yankee barking hysterically and Tompy talking a mile a minute, he finally gave up, took a quick swallow of coffee and sat back to beam at them both. Indeed, his mother and father were so overjoyed to have him home again, nothing else seemed of any importance. But later, over a quickly prepared second breakfast of sausage, griddle cakes, and syrup, the strange story was finally all straightened out and told. A chair had been drawn up for Yankee and they kept filling and refilling his plate til he was in danger of bursting.

  "I had a dog like you when I was a boy," confided Mr. Terry, taking it for granted that Yankee would understand, which, of course, he did. "Best darn dog I ever had, too. Could beat any two dogs in town, and smart--I tell you--"

  "RRRuff, gr-uff!" retorted Yankee, jumping down from the chair to move nearer to this discerning new friend.

  If Tompy's mother and dad were at first a bit skeptical about their amazing adventure, the ruby tie clip and dog's gem trimmed medal finally convinced them that it was true. Yankee's picture had been in all the papers, with a record of his orbit and the sad news that his capsule had been lost. "The Navy and boys at the base have about given you up," Mr. Terry told the space dog giving his ear a tug. "What a whale of a welcome is waiting for you!" Yankee nudged Mr. Terry's knee, as much as to say, the welcome he was having now was all that he needed.

  I know you will be pleased to hear that everything turned out much as Tompy had hoped that it would. Yankee was flown back to his base for a check-up and then to the Cape for further ceremonies and honors. The story of his orbit and safe return was played up in papers all over the world and he even appeared on television. It was all quite flattering but the bull terrier as the weeks passed began to miss Tompy more and more and he took but a half-hearted interest in proceedings. He did enjoy the medal presentation, for Tompy and his parents were invited and he had a brief reunion with the boy who had traveled over Oz and E-v with him. At the suggestion of Tompy's dad the whole story had not been told, merely the fact that Tompy had been carried off by a hurricane and had come down upon Yankee and his wrecked capsule in a northern Jersey lake, and how the two had found their way back to Pennwood together. Tompy's description of the lake was so vague that after combing northern New Jersey by helicopter the search for the wrecked capsule had finally been abandoned. If any of the Navy or space men were to read this story, they will know why and what really did happen.

  After the medal presentation, Tompy's father had a long talk with the Naval Officer in charge. Though sympathetic with Tompy's desire to keep the famous space dog, he felt that Yankee's place was still with the space program. Just as he was on the point of a complete refusal, Tompy bethought himself of the Red Jinn's jug, which he luckily had tucked into the pocket of his sport coat. Without taking the jug out he quietly removed the stopper. The same instant, the Commander, who had been looking very commanderish, indeed, broke into an affable grin. Placing a hand on Tompy's shoulder and glancing indulgently down at Yankee whom a young officer had on a leash, he spoke his final words on the subject.

  "I really see no reason why this dog should not be presented to your son who found and brought him back. Yankee has served his country well and deserves a discharge. I will have the papers drawn up at once and the dog will be released to you in due course."

  "Due course" turned out to be one short week. Picked up at the airport by Tompy's father, Yankee arrived just as Tompy got home from school one bright fall afternoon. And what a wild and hilarious reunion that was! And how it would have pleased Jinnicky, whose magic jug really brought it about. Casting aside his Air Force dignity, Yankee raced from the top to the bottom of the house, licked his new family on chins, ears, and noses and then raced back upstairs and bounded up on Tompy's bed.

  "Like old times!" he panted as Tompy fell on the bed beside him.

  "Yankee--you're talking! YOU'RE TALKING!" gasped Tompy rolling over.

  "And will talk every afternoon from five to six, but only to you!" whispered the terrier in a lower voice. "Thanks to old Juggins!"

  "So, that's what he told you just before we left?" exulted Tompy. "Man, oh man--it's wonderful!"

  "You betcha," agreed Yankee. "But remember, no one is to know. Come on, boy, let's go down to the end of the garden where we can talk in peace and catch up on all the news."

  And that is the way it was and is. After school each afternoon the boy and dog retire to a secluded spot and have a merry old Oz time biz baz.

  During the day, Yankee keeps Mrs. Terry company or hies off on various adventures with the neighborhood dogs and you can guess who is boss? On band practice hours, Yankee is right up there with the band and, on marches, steps smartly ahead. He is also on hand for all baseball and football games and practice and is better than a dozen cheer leaders when it comes to sparking up the team.

  "You talk to that dog as if he were a person," scoffed Fats Waller, the left tackle on the football squad when Tompy began explaining the next quarter's strategy to Yankee.

  "He is a person!" stated Tompy, drawing himself up to his full height.

  One day, coming home from a shopping trip with his mother, Tompy spied Yankee in a neighbor's side yard. The bull terrier was sitting in the center of a raptly attentive circle of canines--setters, collies, dachshunds, boxers, dogs of every breed and kind--all the ears up and tongues lolling. At last Yankee had found somebody, a lot of somebodies to listen to the whole and complete story of their adventures in the marvelous lands of Oz and Ev. Tiptoeing off without disturbing him, Tompy, grinning from ear to ear, sat down to practice on his drums. That night as the two were ready for bed, Tompy took out the most cherished o
f his afternoon purchases.

  "I've bought us an Oz book," he confided. "One I never have read. Oh, you'll like this one, Yank Dank. It's called The Purple Prince and is all about Jinnicky and his adventures with Randy and the Elegant Elephant, Kabumpo." Yankee, already in a half doze on his side of the bed, sprang up, his tail and ears pointed straight upward. "We'll read a chapter every night," went on Tompy, "starting right now."

  Slipping under the covers, tilting the bed lamp at the proper angle, and with Yankee snuggled close beside him, Tompy began reading the story of the Red Jinn's travels and the way he and another boy about Tompy's age with the help of old Kabumpo saved the Royal Family of Pumperdink. It was long past Yankee's talking time, but from the way he would nod, sniff, and grin (and if you think Yankee could not grin, you don't know any bull terriers) Tompy knew he understood and was enjoying every word.

  So here, happily reading an Oz book, we will leave them. Perhaps after you have finished this story you, yourself, will want to read another book about the jolly Little Wizard of Ev.

  ~~~The End~~~