ABDUCTED to OZ

BY

Bob Evans & Chris Dulabone. 

Founded on and Continuing the Famous Oz Stories

by L. Frank Baum. 

Illustrated by Dennis Anfuso. 

List of Chapters

Chapter I The AbductionChapter 2 Historical BackgroundChapter 3 Prelude to the ParadeChapter 4 An Unfortunate OutcomeChapter 5 The Best Laid PlansChapter 6 Spellbound!Chapter 7 An Alien PresenceChapter 8 A Strange EncounterChapter 9 Captured Again!Chapter 10 A Mystical ExperienceChapter 11 The Winkle CountryChapter 12 The Meeting with Princess OzmaChapter 13 A Window, A WindowChapter 14 Jeanne-MarieChapter 15 Can't Stand in the Way of LoveChapter 16 A Story with a Happy Ending

This book is dedicated to

Graham Dunn

Whose love and enthusiasm for all things Oz is a true inspiration. 

CHAPTER ONE:

THE ABDUCTION

The boy was doing his homework. His parents had taken his little brotherto see _Return to Oz_ at the movie theater. He had seen it when it firstcame out and, although he enjoyed it at the time, he felt he was gettingtoo old for that sort of stuff. Besides, he had too much work to do. Itseemed to him that each teacher allocated enough work to practicallytake up a fellow's entire evening--as if their class was the only one. So Graham, for that was his name, knew he would have to work for severalmore hours if he was to complete all the assignments. 

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 WonderfulWizard of Oz_. He was thinking about the characters in it and what aterrific imagination Mr. Baum must have had, when suddenly, out of thestillness of the house, came a weird screeching sound. The sound waslike nothing he had ever heard before. It seemed to have come frombehind him; from the vicinity of the fireplace. Graham shivered. He didnot believe in ghosts, and at twelve years old (almost thirteen) heshould not be afraid to be home alone. But he was scared right now--noquestion about it. However, when no other sound was forthcoming, hebegan to rationalize that it had all been his imagination, perhaps justthe wind whistling down the chimney. Then it happened! The awful soundof breaking glass. "Oh no, " he thought. "Someone is breaking in!" Helooked over to the window--then to the French doors. Nothing! Yet thesound had seemed very close. He glanced at the mirror above thefireplace only to see that all the glass had gone, leaving an emptyframe. Now he was really frightened. He wondered what had caused theglass to shatter. Then, to his amazement, all the pieces of sliveredglass suddenly flew up from the fireplace and reconstructed themselvesin the frame. 

"I must be going crazy!" thought the poor lad. "All this school work isgetting to be too much for me. I must have cracked completely!" Then allthe lights in the house went out, leaving him in pitch blackness. Atthat moment there was a strange crackling sound, and the mirror becameilluminated with a purple glow. A grotesquely human face began to forminto the image of an evil Witch. A loud, screechy cackle emanated fromher throat. It was the same sound he had heard earlier. By now Grahamwas 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 shelifted him right up off the floor and into the mirror. By now Graham wasabsolutely terrified. He kicked and screamed and tried to escape, but tono avail. The Witch was much too strong for him. He found himselfdragged to the other side of the mirror and out into a room in theWitch's castle, whereupon the Witch immediately released her grip, forshe knew that the boy had nowhere to run. 

"Well, what say you now, squirt? Do you still hate me?" cackled theWitch, breaking into fits of hideous laughter. 

"Oh, no. Not anymore, " replied Graham, his voice trembling. "I thinkyou're pretty nice, um, all things considered. "

"Oh, come now!" replied the Witch. "Let's be reasonable. You don'treally think that. You're just afraid of what I might do to you. Look atyou. You're shaking in your boots!"

"I'm afraid, yes, " said Graham. "Really afraid. But I don't think you'llharm 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 tothink of a plausible story that would keep her occupied while he triedto figure out a way to escape. He had managed to see out of one of herwindows and knew he was, without a doubt, in the Land of Oz. 

[Illustration]

CHAPTER TWO:

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

Now, in the event that this book may have fallen into the hands ofsomeone who is unfamiliar with the marvelous Land of Oz, it seemsfitting that an explanation be inserted right about here. Oz is anoblong-shaped country that is surrounded on all sides by a vast DeadlyDesert that is supposed to keep visitors out. Even so, it has beenvisited by any number of American children prior to Graham's visit. Somecame by way of invitation, but mostly they arrived by accident. The mostfamous of these visitors, of course, was little Dorothy Gale. Dorothytraveled to Oz via a powerful cyclone which carried her house andherself over the massive desert and plopped her on top of a particularlyevil 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 inAmerica. She returned a short time later and had a wonderful new seriesof adventures in which she met Princess Saari, Gayelette, and even someFuzzy Yellow Wogglebugs. It was but a few years after that when littleDorothy finally consented to become a citizen of Oz and live therehappily--or reasonably so--for many years thereafter. In fact, evenafter nearly eighty-five years, she remains an honorary princess of thatlovely country. Because no one has to ever grow old or die in thissingular land, Dorothy remains as young and innocent as on the day shefirst arrived. At one point, Dorothy was joined by a fine young boynamed Button-Bright, who was about as bright as a cloth-covered button. Trot Griffiths, Betsy Bobbin, and several others have also agreed tolive the rest of their days in Oz rather than returning home to themortal lands, where illness and death and aging are common. 

Because Oz citizens only age when they wish to do so, on one's birthdayall one is required to do is to wish to stay the same age for anotheryear, and it will be so. This would certainly please most of the peoplein our mortal lands, but it would hardly be practical here due to theever-increasing overpopulation problem. 

[Illustration]

The Land of Oz is divided into five sections. To the North is theGillikin territory. The Gillikins favor the color purple above allothers and are known to paint their homes, barns, and silos in thiscolor. To the South lies the land of the Quadlings. Here, the reveredcolor is red. The area is governed by a powerful but Good Witch namedGlinda, and Glinda is considered an enemy to all of the evil Witches. The very center is the Emerald City. It has been called the mostglorious place on the face of the earth (or even the moon or Mars), andrightly so. It is so lovely, in fact, that it defies description. And itis from here that the overall ruler is able to reign above all fiveregions. 

In the West can be found the yellow Winkie Country. The Emperor of thisregion is none other than Nick Chopper, the tin man who had befriendedDorothy on her first visit to Oz. To the East is the blue MunchkinCountry. Here, all of the things that the Gillikins paint purple arepainted blue. This is the region where little Dorothy's house had fallendown atop the Wicked Witch of the East. And it was this incident thathad caused the Wicked Witch of the West to take notice of the littlegirl. So wicked was this Witch, in fact, that she sent a host of plaguesin the hope that they would destroy poor Dorothy and her companions. Shelashed out with her flesh-eating gray wolves, her sinister crows, andher horrific stinging bees. But it was not until she called upon herMarvelous Flying Monkeys that she was able to succeed in her goal. Themonkeys, enslaved by the powers of a magical hat, destroyed theScarecrow and tin man and enslaved Dorothy and the Lion. 

Oz history would have been dismal, indeed, had Dorothy not splashed abucket of water over the Wicked Witch, wetting her from head to foot. AsWitches and water do not mix very well, the evil woman was reduced tonothing more than a puddle of ugly liquid. With the help of some kindlyWinkie tinsmiths and seamstresses, Dorothy was able to retrieve herfriends and bring happiness back to Oz. Had she desired to live therethen, she would have had a welcoming home with any or all of thecitizens of Oz, even the Scarecrow, who was made ruler over all theland. The Scarecrow was a good and honest king--a thing that rarelyhappens 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 ofOz, Princess Ozma. Even though she is but a child, Ozma has become themost well-loved ruler in all the earth. Citizens of Oz love her like asister, while children of other countries who read Oz books yearn toleave their homes to go to that wonderful country to be near to her. 

[Illustration]

Of course, Oz is a very big place. But if all of us who wished to gothere were suddenly whisked away on a cyclone of our own, it wouldsurely become decidedly too crowded. So it is good for Oz that we aremade to stay here except on the rare occasion when Ozma may call uponone 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 discussedany more. Once a year, on the day of the anniversary, there is a paradeand a feast, but the reason for these festivities is not generallyacknowledged. The very fact that dear little Dorothy is present isconsidered reason enough to celebrate. Oz people, it should be told, will accept any excuse to have a celebration. And the celebration mightwell have continued as it always had, except that something mostpeculiar had happened this year. Sir Simon the Shrew, who had come tolive in the Emerald City after Princess Ozma had magically enlarged himto human-size, had become very good friends with Dorothy. He was of theopinion that the annual festival should better commemorate the event onwhich it was founded. He determined that the most elaborate float in theparade should be one which depicted Dorothy dousing the Wicked Witchwith water. 

Because he was now as large as a human child, Simon was able to gathertogether the materials he needed in record time. Although he was hardlyW. W. Denslow or Frank Kramer, Simon's artistic abilities were farsuperior to those of Dirk. Borrowing the Red Wagon, he created a largeplatform on which he could build his float. He arranged with Kabumpo, the Elegant Elephant, to draw the float through the streets, as hethought it would be too heavy for the Sawhorse. Kabumpo agreed to thisonly because he respected Dorothy and because he enjoyed parades. He wasstill a tad disgruntled about being used as a work-horse, but he allowedthis feeling to be repressed in favor of the pomp and circumstance ofthe parade. He was, after all, a bit of a show-off when he could getaway with it. And that is a real understatement!

Sir Simon the Shrew was able to construct upon the Red Wagon amagnificent papier maché image that kind of resembled Dorothy. She woreone shoe, which Simon coated with glue and sprinkled with silverglitter. He deftly colored her dress blue and white and gave hertwo braids in her ribbon hair. He stood back and admired hismasterpiece. "Wow!" said Simon. "This will get a lot of attention!"But he still had to make the Wicked Witch. This was a harderprospect, as Simon did not like to create anything that was ugly. To besure, there are very few people or things that are uglier than theWicked Witch of the West. 

[Illustration]

After some time and not less than three failed attempts to construct afigure of the old Witch, Sir Simon sighed. It was hard to make her lookright. Because of his kind and gentle nature, Simon's images alwayswound up looking too friendly. This was not the right image for theWicked Witch at all. She had to look mean and hateful. She had to looklike the kind of person who would happily have the Tin Woodman and theScarecrow destroyed, or take an innocent little girl as her slavewithout remorse. At last, he decided he had to do it with his eyesclosed. This way, he would not be as repulsed by the Witch's cruelty. Shutting his rodentine eyes, Sir Simon painted the most horribleface he could. After he opened his eyes to look at his handiwork, hefound himself feeling quite queasy. He had to turn away to avoid beingsick. "Perfect, " he muttered. "It looks just like her. "

[Illustration]

He then set up the float and hinged the arms of the Dorothy figure insuch a way that she could dump a bucket over the Witch's head. Givingthree cheers for creativity, he had constructed the Witch out ofballoons and covered them with brown sugar. He had then pushed a pininto the figure to produce a hollow sugar figure that would dissolveinstantly when touched by the water. This would be the highlight of thewhole parade! Simon was very proud of himself. He pushed his magnificentfloat into a large storage locker behind the palace. The room was dustyand cobwebby enough to assure him that it was not used very often andthat 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 fulland which was just the right size for his sculpture. He quickly securedit in place in the papier maché Dorothy's hands. "If this doesn't get alot of loud cheers from the crowd, nothing will!" He rubbed his pawswith glee. 

[Illustration]

CHAPTER FOUR:

AN UNFORTUNATE OUTCOME

The day of the big parade came swiftly. Sir Simon and Kabumpo werevastly proud of the surprise they were about to spring on the people ofthe Emerald City. Indeed, it was a delightful parade. The Fuzzy YellowWogglebugs had put together a choral group that sang a bouncing tune asthey marched at the head of the parade. Mr. Tinker followed them with anelectronic float that tossed candy canes out of its windows to thepeople below. Princess Saari came next, riding atop a magnificent floatthat seemed to radiate all the colors of the rainbow. She was followedby Pegina the Pegasus, who flew just above the heads of two mightydragons. Button-Bright, Trot, and Betsy Bobbin had put together a kazooband and played "Ease on Down the Road" as they marched along behind thedragons. The Elves of Elfland followed, having constructed a float thatresembled Egor's fantastic Funhouse out of hundreds of carnations. Agray spotlight shot out of the windows at certain intervals to circlearound the Funhouse and resemble a cyclone. No one knew how the Elveshad managed to make the light do this trick, but it was an Elven secret, so no one asked. 

Many other quaint and delightful spectacles were there to be seen andenjoyed. But it was the marvelous Dorothy and Wicked Witch sculpturethat caught the attention of everyone. It reminded all of the reason forthe annual celebration, and all were happy to recall the way they hadbeen freed from the heartless whims of the cruel-hearted old woman. 

At the end of the parade, all eyes were fixed on the image, and Simonsignaled to Kabumpo to let go of the spring. The Dorothy statue splashedthe sugary Witch right on her head. Unfortunately, the bucket had notbeen filled with water, as Simon had assumed. It was actually filledwith some fermented sucopinesz juice that a family of wombats had hiddenthere for consumption after the parade. The Witch image began to shrinkand fall away. The crowd roared and laughed at the sight. But, ofcourse, we all know that sucopinesz juice and sugar do not mix well. Aseries of tiny explosions began to appear above the melted Witch. Kabumpo was so startled that he did not see how close he wasgetting to the Hungry Tiger. Feeling a heavy elephant's footon his striped tail, the Tiger jumped eight hundred yards ahead. He landed on Princess Saari, breaking a hole in the top ofher float, into which they both fell. From this hole emanated a radiantgreen light. The light ricocheted off of the Glass Cat's tail and struckthe gray light that had been circling the Elfland float. Now, it iscommonly known among Oz scholars that a cyclone is created when hot andcold air meet in one place. It was the same way when the two magicaltypes of light collided. The dizzying green light splashed at theother-worldly gray light, and a funnel cloud emerged. It whirled aboutuntil it surrounded the popping mass of sugared juice. When the twisterhad subsided, thanks to the magic of Glinda and the Wizard, there stooda hideous green-faced woman in a black outfit. On her head she wore ablack pointed hat. In her hand was a broomstick. 

[Illustration]

"Who's sh-she?" stuttered Dorothy. 

"I don't know, " replied Ozma. "She looks like a Witch! But not like anyof the Witches I've ever known about!"

"I am the Wicked Witch of the West!" shouted the woman in a maniacalvoice. 

"She doesn't look like the one I remember, " said the Scarecrow. "Thisone has two eyes and green skin. She must be an impostor. "

"I am not an impostor!" bellowed the woman. 

"But, " said an elderly Winkie who remembered the original Witch, "WitchAllidap had a patch over one eye and did not dress in pure black. Thisis not her at all. "

"I am too me! I just feel a little different today, that's all. I willprove to you that I am Allidap!"

[Illustration]

CHAPTER FIVE:

THE BEST LAID PLANS

It should be understood that, although the creature was really littlemore than an unstable life-form produced by a one-of-a-kind series ofaccidents, she believed that she was indeed the Wicked Witch of theWest. And as long as she suffered under this delusion, she was dangerousto all of the Witch's enemies. Especially Dorothy, as her primary memorywas based upon the scene on the float, rather than any history before orafter the event depicted thereon. She was angry and afraid, these beingthe emotions that were depicted in the sculpture. And these emotions, aswe all know, can lead one to do things that are not particularlywholesome. Now, it was not too many seconds before the false Witchhopped onto her broomstick and zoomed away from the jeering crowd. Shewas a creature of resentment and hate, so she did not feel safe in thatenvironment. Instead, she determined to find a way to reach her goalselsewhere. Knowing about the castle where the real Witch had lived, shehid herself there to get her bearings. Because she was not really WitchAllidap, she did not know much magic. But, because of the magic in thecolored lights, she knew just enough to keep her from realizing thetruth about her identity. Her appearance was quite different from thatof the real Allidap. There was a reason for this, however. It seemsthat, at the very millisecond of her being brought to life, someone whobelieved in her had thought about her. And that someone had had adifferent impression of her. It was a silly impression created not somuch by the book as by a movie musical that was televised annually. Sothat was the way the thinker imagined her to look. Because of this, hehad projected his impression onto the false Witch. It also created anumber of Allidap's memories in the mind of the sugar-creature. And italso caused her to remember the thinker--a little boy named Graham. Hehad been thinking about the original book but visualized the Witch asshe had looked in the movie. And because he had an inordinate amount ofhomework to do, he was also feeling quite resentful. Little did he dreamthat this combination of negative emotions and vivid imagination wouldbring into manifestation a very unpleasant creature! One that no decentyoung person should ever have to encounter. But now Graham found himselfface to face with the Wicked Witch!

[Illustration]

She was in his home, and she was hardly filled with joy. She dragged himto her castle and laughed at his utter helplessness. "You're just afraidof what I might do to you, " she said. "Look at you. You're shaking inyour boots!"

"I am afraid, yes, " said Graham. "Really afraid. But I don't thinkyou'll harm me after you hear what I have to say. "

"Oh, " replied the Witch. "Really? And what might that be?"

"Listen carefully, " said Graham. "I know where there is a book of magicspells that can make mincemeat out of Dorothy and the Scarecrow andthose guys. "

"You do?" the Witch said, skeptically. "And what is a book?"

"Why, it is a bunch of pieces of paper stuck together at one side andthat has words printed inside of it. "

"Oh, yes, " said the Witch. "I know what words are. I had some words ofwarning printed on some signposts to keep away strangers. And I oncewrote 'SURRENDER DOROTHY' in the sky. But my memory doesn't include abook. Where is it?"

"Only I can get it, " said Graham, realizing that he now had a perfectway out of the dilemma. "It is back at my home in America. " (He was surethat he could break away from her once he was back home. ) But not to beoutsmarted, clutching the boy by the hand, the Witch immediately pulledhim back through the mirror without letting him free from her vise-likegrasp. "Where is this book?" she said angrily. Then, seeing Graham'smath book on the table, she felt a tinge of recognition. There had beensome of these on a table in her castle when she had demanded thatDorothy give her those magic shoes. So these were called books! "Is thisthe one?" she asked, picking up his math book with her free hand. "Whatare these words on it?"

"What's wrong?" asked Graham. "Can't you see? Don't your eyes work?"

"I do not know these words, " said the Witch. "My memory has becomeclouded on some things. I know the words 'SURRENDER DOROTHY' and theones I had on my signposts, but these are unfamiliar. What do they say?"

"It says, " Graham lied, "_The Best and Most Complete Book of WitchcraftEver Written_. It has every spell ever invented in it! Would you like tohave it? If you go away, I'll give it to you. "

"I'll take it, but I'll need a reader to read it to me. That shall beyou, my little FOOL!" So saying, she took him back through the mirror, sealing off the opening behind them forever. 

CHAPTER SIX:

SPELLBOUND!

Once back on the other side of the mirror and in her own domain, theWitch could not wait to get started on the first spell. After all, whocould resist experimenting with spells from a book with a title like_The Best and Most Complete Book of Witchcraft Ever Written_?

"Okay, you little squirt, " she snapped. "Read me the first spell. "

Graham knew he would have to think off the top of his head and thinkfast if he was to come up with something plausible. The minute she foundout that the book was a fake, he would be dead meat, that was for sure. 

"Okay. Well. . . . Let's see. . . . The first spiel--I mean, spell--is 'How toTurn an Obnoxious Dial (or Socially Disadvantaged Countenance) into aReflection of Infinite Beauty. '"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you just said, " snapped the Witch withobvious annoyance. "Read it to me again. Wait. That won't do any good. What do you think it means?"

Graham knew he had her hooked. "It is obviously a spell that willtransform you into the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face ofthe earth. "

"Oh, my, " said the Witch-clone with obvious delight. "Well, let's getstarted! What are you waiting for?"

Graham cleared his throat and began to "read" from the book:

 "_Find a slimy little pickle. Rub it with a shiny nickel. Drop it in a Witch's hat. Add seventeen eggs on top of that. Top that off with a bowl of Jell-O and spittle from a little fellow. Add some sour cream and chives and honey directly from the hives. _

[Illustration]

 _Now add one pint of strawberry jam (preferably bought from Knott's Berry Farm). Then bend thy head towards thy legs and press said hat upon thy head. Now stand and then induce a friend to pull it down below thy crown. Wait at least a half-an-hour. Take off the hat and dust with flour. Now look in the mirror and thou shalt see none more lovelier than thee. "_

"Oh, that does sound absolutely divine!" cried the Witch. "Quick! Helpme gather the materials together so we can start immediately. "

Graham could hardly contain himself with the thought of the true resultsof this experiment. And although he was going to use this opportunity toescape, he almost wished he could stay to see the whole thing through. He congratulated himself on his ability to create such anauthentic-sounding spell and for having the presence of mind to suggestthe half-hour lead time he would need in order to escape from thecastle. When everything was ready, Graham followed the spell to theletter. And since he was the only little fellow around, he was theobvious choice to provide the spittle for the concoction--which he didwith great delight. 

As soon as he got to the part where he had to pull the Witch's hat downover her head, he said, "I'll keep my eye on the clock and let you knowwhen the half hour is up. " With that, he jammed the hat down over hereyes and down to her shoulders and then made a beeline for the window. 

CHAPTER SEVEN:

AN ALIEN PRESENCE

After Graham had escaped from the castle, he thought about the Witchstanding there for a full half-hour and thinking how beautiful she wasgoing to be when she took the hat off and looked at herself in hermirror. He laughed out loud as he imagined how she would really lookwith that gooey mess all over her hair and face and clothes. But he knewthat once the reality dawned on her that the spell was a fake, that shewas just as ugly as ever, and that he had escaped, she would beabsolutely beside herself with rage. The boy's elation began to changeto fear as he considered the possible repercussions of his actions. Herehe was in a strange yellow land with no idea of where he was going orwhere to hide. 

He had been traveling through a wooded area which, for now, offered somemeasure of security, since he would be hidden from aerial surveillance, when he came upon a clearing. Actually, it was more than just aclearing; it was a perfectly round grassy clearing about fifty feet indiameter, and dome-shaped. As he studied the dome, it began to slowlyrise, exposing a round house with windows and doors and a grass-coveredroof. Graham stood perfectly still, waiting to see if anyone came out. When it was obvious that no one was coming, he cautiously walked towardthe house to see if he could see through the window. Suddenly, a loud, mechanical-sounding voice filled the air. "WARNING! YOU ARE APPROACHINGTOO CLOSE TO THE VEHICLE. PLEASE STEP BACK. "

At this point, Graham was more than a little confused. He knew that thissort of proximity alarm system was favored by some motor vehicle ownersback home. But the device seemed very out of place in Oz. Not to mentionthe fact that the sound was emanating from a house, not a car. At thatmoment, the round roof slowly started to spin and rose about four feetabove the house and hovered there. The outside walls receded back intothe ground to reveal a bright, shiny spaceship shimmering in thesunlight. A ramp unfolded to reveal two equally shimmering space beings. They descended (or rather, floated) down the ramp and stopped less thanthree feet from the boy. They were not very tall--about four feet inheight--and they were dressed in metallic-looking one-piece spacesuitsthat closely followed the contour of their slender bodies. They hadquite large heads, which were somewhat out of proportion to theiroverall physique. Their eyes were large and doe-shaped and were theblackest of black with no pupils visible. He sensed an intelligenceemanating from their eyes that was far in excess of ordinary people. Their skin was of a dull grayish hue; no color at all. 

[Illustration]

Graham waited for them to speak (for some reason he was totallyunafraid). One of them raised his right hand in greeting. He spokewithout moving his lips. At least, Graham heard the words clearly insidehis head but could sense no outside sound. 

"Greetings, young friend. You stumbled upon our location, but it is ofno consequence. We know that you bear us no ill will. "

"Indeed not, " replied Graham. "In fact, I am honored to make youracquaintance. I've always wanted to meet a space person. "

"Well, " replied the other being, "you are a space person, too. "

"I am?" said Graham incredulously. "I'm afraid you're mistaken . . . I amfrom earth. "

"And where, my little friend, do you think earth is? Is it not suspendedin space like all of the other planets? And does it not make a completerotation upon its axis every twenty-three hours, fifty-six minutes andfour point zero-nine seconds, and at a speed of a thousand miles perhour? And does it not orbit your sun every three hundred and sixty-fivedays and six hours and nine minutes and nine point five seconds, and ata speed of about twenty miles per second? And does it not revolve alongwith the moon, around a common center of gravity, and move with theentire solar system through your local star system at thirteen miles persecond? And does not your local star system move within the Milky Way atthe rate of two hundred miles per second, and does not the Milky Waydrift with respect to the remote external galaxies at the rate of onehundred miles per second and in all different directions, and does notyour galaxy itself make a complete rotation about an axis every twohundred million years? And does it not travel through space with over ahundred billion other suns of its galactic family, not to mention anuntold number of other planets?"

Graham nodded meekly. "I knew our planet was in space. I just didn'tknow all the details. "

"Well, " continued the being, "even if you mortals could travel at thespeed of light, it would still take you a hundred thousand years tocross your galaxy from edge to edge. "

The spaceman motioned toward the craft. "However, our ship could visitthe Andromeda galaxy, which is about two million one hundred thousandlight years from earth, and return before you could say _StephenHawking_. I'd say that is a little bit faster than the speed of light. We could not afford to waste two million years--actually, over fourmillion years round trip! We'd never get anything done. "

"Now, wait just a minute, " said Graham. "You can't go faster than thespeed of light. They told us in school that would be against the laws ofphysics!"

"We learned long ago, " replied the spaceman, "that the laws of physicskept us very tightly bound until we found we could gain dominion overthose laws. You see, we earned that right over a long period of time. Dominion over physical law requires a certain knowledge of sciencebeyond the physical as well as a working knowledge of the spirituallaws. The two must work hand in hand. For example, your scientists areworking strictly from a physical perspective. They are totally unawarethat the atoms--the building blocks of matter--have a counterpart of ahigher frequency: one that falls outside of the realm of what you wouldterm physical. In any event, without that counterpart the physical worldas you know it could not exist. 

"Now, I want to demonstrate to you the practical aspects of ourknowledge. Our spaceship is vibrating at the atomic rate of thecollective atoms that comprise the material makeup of said ship. Now, aswe observe the ship, I am going to concentrate on this counterpart ofthe atom that your scientists might refer to as antimatter orantiparticle. These antiparticles are what we would call the pure stateof the atom. You might say they are the inner core of the atom. Youmight even say that they are the very soul of the atom, since theyfurnish the power that maintains the motion of the atom. In any event, this is the medium we work with. Incidentally, if you could observe themotion of this counterpart to the atom, you would see that it is inconstant motion as it conveys its power to the atom. It turnsincessantly upon its own axis, spinning like a top. It is constantlypulsating, gyrating, and, I might even say, dancing in a most beautifulmanner. . . . I might tell you at this point that the name we give to thiswonderful animating force, is, quite naturally, the anim. Now I am goingto concentrate on the atomic structure of our ship. I am going to raisethe rate of vibration, or frequency, of the individual atoms to thehigher rate of the anim state. As I do so, the ship will no longer bedetected by your eye-to-brain circuits. To your limited senses it willbe completely invisible to you. It is this little trick that plays havocwith the minds of your fellow mortals that occasionally catch a glimpseof our ships in your skies, only to see them disappear in an instant. Now, as I continue to concentrate, I am projecting the ship to a certaincoordinate: namely, a specific planetary member of the galaxy Andromeda. This is done at the speed of thought, which is instantaneous. There. . . . "The starship vanished in less than a blink. "Now it's back again!" thespaceman announced. And, indeed, it truly was! "Well, what do youthink?"

Of course, Graham was beside himself. He could not speak. "Wow!" he saideventually. "Wow!"

"Naturally, " continued the spaceman, "I had to lower the vibrationsagain to re-manifest it into your reality. But it is this manner oftransportation that enables us to come and go as we please and, in doingso, somewhat confuse your scientists and governmental authorities. "

Graham smiled. 

[Illustration]

"Speaking of your scientists, " added the other alien, "they wouldprobably be very interested to know that, long before the countlesssolar systems were brought into manifestation--in reference to the manyplanets, stars, gaseous bodies, and so forth--space was null and void ofall that is now in existence. The theater of infinite space was empty. The actors had not yet made their appearance. Everything, every solitaryatom (and that includes the atoms that presently constitute your bodyand mine), were back in that great Core of Life. The Oneness. The Sourceof All. Some like to call this presence God. It is, however, a presencethat is very real, even to scientists who call themselves agnostics. Ifit were possible to become attuned to this presence, this Core of Life, you would be aware of pulsating with it. You would realize that you arereceiving a great force which enables you to move about in your physicalbody. This force is constantly nourishing every atom that is out therein space, every atom within the earth. It is the great unifying forcethat your scientists suspect must exist but have never quite been ableto get a handle on. However, they are getting closer to it with thediscovery of so-called dark matter. But to continue: the Core of Lifemay be pictured as a great sun, and yet this would not describe it, forit is larger than any sun could ever possibly be. And if we were to tryto measure it--and there would be no way to do this--we would find thatit would encircle not only one solar system, but many other solarsystems beyond. However, I am digressing from my story of the creationof the universe. Gradually or suddenly, depending on your viewpoint inthe great consciousness of time, the animatical forces from the Core ofLife caused the great expansion from the etheric state of matter, causing gross material to manifest through friction and be slushed offand begin to solidify. And when it did, the planets began to form. Firstone began to form over here, and then another one began to form overthere, and these in turn were followed by still others until gradually, within the great power that is concentrated at the point where theplanets were revolving, a great solar system came into manifestation. Then, after their birth, the planets were dormant for what may have beenmany millions of years while they were going through the coolingprocess. Then, gradually, over perhaps many million more years, thegerminal kingdom brought forth the different forms of matter, bacteria, et cetera. These in turn brought forth the various bodies, theanimalistic kingdom, and other forms of life that would be needed tohelp build and prepare the way and become an assisting force ineventually bringing forth the human expression. So you see, it was allcarefully orchestrated by that driving presence I mentioned. We are nowliving in the seventh group of planets. Yes, the universe as you know itexisted in six previous manifestations, returning each time to itsoriginal state. This seventh manifestation is the last. The time will comewhen there will be no physical planets, no physical remnants of thispresent universe. But not to worry, my little friend. You and I and, indeed, all expressions of what you might refer to as life will continueon, for life is eternal. It has always existed, and it always will exist. The physical expression is only a temporary condition. By the way, in ourhaste we forgot to introduce ourselves. My name is Agasha, and mybrother here is Araskus. Your world will, no doubt, be reading moreabout us. As a matter of fact, as we speak, I am receiving a telepathicmessage from a William Eisen who now resides in Oz. He reminds me thatwhile in America he brought forth some of my philosophy in writtendocuments entitled _Agasha: Master of Wisdom_ and _The AgashanDiscourses_. These works were written for adults, but older children whohave an advanced understanding may appreciate them, too. Mr. Eisen was apersonal friend of Mr. Evans, who at this moment is recording these veryevents as they occur. "

[Illustration]

The two beings then shook hands with the boy and bid him farewell asthey returned to their ship. Moments later, the craft arose and tiltedin salute as it spun away beyond the horizon. Graham stood for thelongest time, staring at the spot where the spaceship had disappearedfrom sight. There were so many more questions he wanted to ask, and hewondered if he would ever again have the opportunity. One question hemeant to ask was that if it took two million, three hundred thousandsome years for light to reach Earth from the Andromeda galaxy, wouldthat mean that we would be observing it as it existed two point threemillion years ago? And that if it suddenly disappeared at this moment inour time, would we not know it for another two point three millionyears? That seemed like a very good question to ask, for it would meanthat when we look out into space, we are really looking back into time. Now that he thought of it, his science teacher had said that it takeseight minutes for light to reach us from the sun, so, if the sundisappeared three minutes ago, we would not know it for another fiveminutes. What a thought! Graham realized that not a solitary soul backhome would ever believe one word of his communication with the spacepeople, assuming, that is, that he would ever be foolish enough to tryto tell anyone. But the first thing he would try to do would be to findthe books Agasha had mentioned. He would do this the minute he gothome. . . 

HOME! OH MY GOSH! HOW LONG HAD HE BEEN GONE? AND HOW WAS HE GOING TO GETBACK? WHY, OH WHY HAD HE NOT TRIED TO HITCH A RIDE WITH THE SPACEPEOPLE?

CHAPTER EIGHT:

A STRANGE ENCOUNTER

Graham mentally kicked himself for not thinking of asking the UFO peoplefor a ride back to America. He had felt so much in awe of themagnificent spaceship and its unique occupants, though, that it hadnever entered his mind to ask a selfish favor of them. He now regrettedthat feeling. After all, the two aliens had made it obvious that theymeant to serve him and help him to learn. Surely they would never haveconsidered it a selfish request on Graham's part had he simply askedthat they drop him off in America on their way to wherever they mighthave been headed. But it was, alas, a little bit too late to cry overspilled milk. Instead, Graham had far more important matters to attendto. He had, after all, come into a very strange land where the physicallaws he was used to no longer seemed to apply. Not only that, but hispresence would be missed before too long, and he did not want to causeundue worry back home. But even more immediate: he had a powerful andvery wicked Witch to deal with who would soon catch on to his lies, andshe was not going to be at all happy with him. Had Graham been a lesserboy, he might have broken down and cried. But Graham decided instead tomake the most of the grave situation. He continued to walk past the areawhere the UFOlanders had been. His main concern now was to get as faraway as possible from the awful old Witch's castle. He was wondering inwhich specific direction to go when he heard a noise in the trees. Atfirst he could not identify the sound, although it was a familiar sound. Because it was so far out of place in Oz, it did not register at first. But, yes! Now he was certain. It was the sound of a television set. Thatis to say, the sound of human voices that could only be coming from aradio or TV. It is a sound you simply cannot mistake. Now the sound wasgetting louder. It was coming toward him. _What on earth could atelevision set be doing here_? Graham thought. And how could it bemoving toward him? The answer immediately became known when out from aclump of trees walked a robotic looking creature. He had triangularshaped legs and arms and body. In place of a face he had a portabletelevision set. Not only that, but the channels kept changing. FirstChannel Two with the evening news. Then Channel Four with a basketballgame. Then Channel Seven with _Jeopardy_! Then Channel Eleven with aprogram about UFOs. Then Channel Thirteen with a commercial for Head andShoulders anti-dandruff shampoo. And so on, and so on. Well, this wasthe strangest sight to behold. A walking television set. It walked rightup to Graham and stopped right up against his face. Then the screen wentblank for a moment and a face appeared. That is to say, not a human faceexactly, but sort of a cartoon type of face with large, bushy eyebrows;big, expressive eyes; a prominent nose; and a mouth in the shape of abig grin. "Howdy doody, " said the mouth as the thing's hand shot out andgrabbed Graham's hand in a vigorous handshake. 

"How--How--How--" stammered Graham. 

[Illustration]

"HowHowHow?" inquired the voice. "That's a funny word. I never heard itbefore. "

"Ah . . . Eh . . . " said Graham, his voice still a bit shaky. "I wasactually trying to say, 'How do you do?'"

"Oh, I see, " replied the being, "but how do I do what?"

"No. I mean I'm trying to say, er . . . 'howdy doody' to you. "

"Oh. Now I understand. I'm sorry for being so dumb. But you see, myentire vocabulary comes from TV shows. I never actually went to school, so some things I do not know. I beg of you, forgive me!" he shouted ashe bent down on one knee and held Graham's hand. 

"There's no need to be so dramatic, " said Graham. "I forgive you. "

"Oh, thanks a bunch, " the creature said. "Is there anything you'd liketo watch? You can watch any television show that's ever been recorded intelevision history. Just say the word. "

"Well, nothing right now, " Graham answered. "But I'm really curious asto how you came into being. "

"HOW! I! CAME! INTO! BEING? Hmmmmm. Oh, you mean how I was manufactured. Well, originally a tinsmith made me. But then I lost my head over agirl. Then one day an electrical genius from Mars came to Oz to discussa contract to build satellite dishes. They wanted to bounce signals fromMars to earth in order to relay Martian soap operas in exchange for someearth programming to Mars. Their favorite earth programs are reruns of_Mork and Mindy_ and _Star Trek_. They're even more popular than theirprime-time blockbuster, _My Favorite Earthling. _ Anyway . . . As I wassaying . . . Let's see . . . I had lost my head, and--"

"Now, wait a minute!" Graham interrupted. "There are no people on Mars. Besides, the environment there is too hostile to support life. "

"Oh. You mean that they have too many harsh TV critics?"

"No. I mean that--For one thing, the temperature would be too harsh. It's way too cold on Mars to support life. Not to mention theatmosphere, which is mostly carbon dioxide. "

"Oh, my dear boy, " smiled the face. "You don't know anything, do you?Oh, you know your scientific facts all right but, according to my memorybanks, there is life all over the universe that your scientists' crudeobservation methods cannot even detect. "

"You're beginning to sound like the UFO people I talked to, " Grahamanswered with a tone of disapproval in his voice. 

"Well, nevertheless, life exists simultaneously on many differentfrequency levels that are undetectable from one to the other--an analogywould be the many TV channels that are in the air simultaneously, butyou can only tune in to the one frequency that your tuning device islocked into. "

"Well, I've heard that before, " answered Graham. 

"Yes. And people are tuning devices in themselves. That's why somepeople are sensitive to the vibrations from Oz and can see what is goingon there. Mr. Baum was the first person in America who was able to tuneinto Oz, and he wrote many history books on this land. Well, that is tosay, they were recordings of current events at the time he wrote them, but they are now history. And as much as he wrote, he was only able torecord a tiny fraction of our history. Since then, many people havecontributed. Some more than others. "

"I wonder why no one in America was able to tune into Oz before L. FrankBaum, " Graham said. 

"Because there are millions of frequencies, but he happened to hit theright one one day when he was telling stories to the children. He wasvery lucky to hit it because of the tremendous odds against him. Butonce he did, it was easy after that. And it was easy for other people tofollow him because they knew it could be done and kept persevering untilthey were able to tune in themselves. The secret is not to give up ifyou are truly interested, because once you lock into it, you becomebetter attuned as time goes by. I heard a good example of this sort ofthing on my sports channel just the other day. They were discussingRoger Bannister and how he broke the four minute mile in 1954 and thatno one in earth's history up until that time believed it could be done, so no one did it. But once Mr. Bannister ran the mile in three minutesand fifty-nine point four seconds, other people broke the record becausenow they knew it was possible after all. They had never really triedhard enough before that, because they simply did not believe. This justshows that you can do anything you set your mind to do as long as youbelieve it's possible. Let me recite a poem I heard once on my PublicTelevision channel. This poem, if my memory banks serve me right, is bya gentleman by the name of C. W. Longenecker:

 _The Victor_

 _If you think you are beaten, you are. If you like to win but think you can't, Its almost a cinch you won't If you think you'll lose, you're lost. For out in the world we find Success begins with a fellow's will. It's all in the state of wind. If you think you are outclassed, you are. You've got to think high to rise. You can ever win a prize. Life's battles don't always go To the stronger or faster man. But sooner or later, the man who wins. Is the one who thinks he can. _"

[Illustration]

"That's very inspirational, " said Graham. "I must remember that. Butdoesn't it apply equally to girls?"

"Oh, of course!" the TV responded. "But the poem was written a long timeago, before non-specific gender language was in vogue. "

"You seem rather wise for a manufactured person, " said Graham. "Wheredid your brain come from?"

"Oh, I haven't really got a brain in the traditional sense of the word. My brain is largely electronic and preprogrammed from a lot of thingsI've seen and heard on TV. There are lessons to be learned, even fromthe poorest of shows. "

"Do you have a name?" asked Graham. 

"Well, most of my friends call me Telle. My full name is TelleVisionary. But you can just call me Telly. "

[Illustration]

CHAPTER NINE:

CAPTURED AGAIN!

"Well, Telly, you are a most fascinating person. Would you like toaccompany me on my mission? You see, I am a stranger in a strange land, and I'd feel a lot better with someone like yourself who is familiarwith the way things work here. Also, I haven't the slightest idea whereI am or where I'm going. Not only that, but I escaped from a WickedWitch and she's probably mad as heck right now and looking for me. "

"I'd be delighted to accompany you, my little friend. Although I musttell you, I don't know how much protection I could give you from theWicked Witch because, if it's the one I think it is, she's bullied mefrom time to time. Whenever she sees me, she zooms right in and makes merun all the soap operas she's missed. Sometimes I have to sit for hoursand hours while she catches up. By the way, what is the mission youmentioned?"

"Oh, my mission is to get home to America, " Graham answered quickly. "Myparents must be worried sick about me. Have you any ideas how I couldget back before that Witch captures me again?"

"Well, let's see! Hmmm, dum de dum de dum, Hmmm, um, let me think. . . "

There was a long pause. "No!" he finally said. "I can't think of asingle way you could get back to America. In fact, I really don't thinkit's even possible for a human being to get back once he's here. Theonly person I know of who ever did that was Dorothy Gale of Kansas. Andthe reason I know that is that I run the movie every year and the end isalways the same. Dorothy clicks her heels together three times and says, 'There's no place like home, there's no place like home, et cetera, ' andshe wakes up in her bed back in Kansas. Now, there's an idea! How aboutwe go and see Dorothy? She'll know how to get you back. Why didn't Ithink of that first?"

"Wonderful!" the boy exclaimed. "I'm beginning to feel a lot better. What is Dorothy doing now? Is she--" Graham's question was cut short bya big, extremely loud popping sound and a cloud of smoke. When the smokecleared, who should be there but the Wicked Witch, grinning from ear toear and prancing up and down with excitement!

"Well, my little friend. Found you at last, haven't I? Loved your spell!Oh, it was terrific! See how beautiful I look? DO YOU? DO YOU?" shescreamed, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. "Look at me. Look, Isay!" she yelled as she jerked his face to hers. "Do I look morebeautiful to you? Let's see. What was the last line of that spell . . . Oh, now I remember: Look in the mirror and you shall see, none morebeautiful than thee! You little liar. LIAR! Did you hear me?"

"How could I not?" asked Graham. "The way you're carrying on, I assumethere are people in Kansas who can hear you. " But he cowered behindTelly as he said so. 

"Hello, my good woman, " said Telly, holding out one of his peculiartriangle-shaped arms. His handshake was not accepted by the wickedwoman. "Allow me to say that you are more exquisitely beautiful than anyof the television stars I've ever seen or heard of!" said the roboticman. "And believe you me, I have run more Miss America beauty pageantsthan you can shake a stick at. You are lovelier than any of those girls. You are more innocently ravishing than Ginger Grant on Gilligan'sIsland! You are the epitome of human grace and style! You make all otherwomen pale beside you!"

"Huh?" said the Witch, dropping Graham like a sack of potatoes. Hecaught his breath and tried to stand up, but the Witch had put one ofher big, long feet on his chest to hold him down. "What are you talkingabout, Tube-face?" the Witch asked of the television-person. 

"I am just admiring your gorgeousness!" said Telly in a musical tone ofvoice. "Are you the next TV heart-throb? The next Susan Lucci? Are yougoing to take the couch potatoes of the world by storm and make all ofthem yearn to be you? You could, you know. You surely are already theenvy of everyone who has ever laid eyes upon you!"

The Witch looked at her prisoner. "What is this machine up to, boy? Andyou'd best not lie to me again!"

"Oh, no!" replied Graham. "I have learned my lesson, to be sure. Iwouldn't think of telling another lie. "

"Then what is this clinking, clanking, clattering collection ofcaliginous junk babbling about?" she sneered. 

"I'm truly relishing your magnificent beauty!" repeated Telly. 

"My friend is simply admiring your beauty, like he said, " answeredGraham, not sure why Telly was acting this way, but deciding it would bebest to play along. "I think he is quite smitten with you!"

"Really?" said the Witch. "Tell me more. "

"You are truly a vision of loveliness!" charmed Telly in a most dramaticmanner. "My heartstrings are all going ZING!"

"They are?" the Witch said, somewhat perplexed. "Maybe the spell workedafter all. I guess it was a delayed reaction. Give me a mirror! I wantto see how I look!"

"Er. . . You don't want to do that, " said Graham. "You. . . Er. . . You are sogorgeous that no mirror could possibly capture your true image. "

"That's altogether silly and utterly foolish, young man! Now that I ampretty, I want to look upon myself. " The Witch took her foot off hischest and let him stand up. "Now fetch me a mirror, or I will turnmean!"

"Such beauty could never do harm to anyone, " said Telly. "You are onlymeant to be worshipped!"

"Thank you, " the Witch said. Then, realizing that she had actually saidsomething polite, she added, "You bizarre jumble of soup cans andgigabytes. "

She saw that Graham had made no move to obtain a mirror, so she pushedhim over again. "Okay, slime-twirp. I'll get my own mirror!" Sheswitched off Telly's picture in order to catch her reflection in theblank screen. Telly, thinking quickly, distracted her for a momentand switched the screen back on while at the same time calling upan image of Eva Gabor from his archives. 

[Illustration]

When Graham saw what had happened, he held his teeth tightly togetherand clenched his fists in anxiety. How would the crone react?

"My . . . My . . . My goodness!" she said. "I really am something, aren'tI?" She smiled a hideous grin. "Just looky there! I am beautiful!"

Graham's anxiety quickly subsided. Telly's clever ploy had worked. "Youare a vision of loveliness, " said the boy. 

"I am, aren't I? I'm gorgeous!" She then began to dance and flittedaround like a young girl as she broke into a rendering of a song fromthe musical play _West Side Story_:

 "_I feel pretty . . . Oh so pretty I feel pretty and witty and gay And I pity Any girl who isn't me today I feel charming Oh so charming It's alarming how charming I feel And so pretty That I hardly can believe I'm real!_"

After she finished the song, she closed her eyes in sheer ecstasy andheaved a long, contented sigh. She stood there like that for the longesttime. Graham and Telly quickly seized the moment and tiptoed behind ahedgerow and, as soon as they were out of earshot, they ran like thewind as far as they could go. As soon as they felt they were safe, theycollapsed in a heap in uncontrollable laughter. 

CHAPTER TEN:

A MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE

It had been quite some time since escaping from the Witch again, and thetwo friends walked along the road lost in thought. Well, that is to say, Graham was lost in thought, whereas Telly was absent-mindedly playing anold commercial:

 _Double your pleasure, double your fun, Get double ev'rything rolled into one, Oh, double your pleasure, double your fun, with double good, double good, Double-mint gum_. 

Suddenly, the pair came across a sign at the side of the road whichread:

_OZ INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT DEPARTURES UPPER LEVEL ARRIVALS LOWER LEVELFOLLOW THE BLUE SIGNS FOR THE UPPER LEVEL FOLLOW THE RED SIGNS FOR THELOWER LEVEL_

"Telly!" cried Graham. "Telly! I can't believe it! An airport in Oz? Whydidn't you tell me? Now I can go home. All I have to do is buy a ticket. They can call my dad and get his credit card number. "

"Now wait a minute!" Telly exclaimed. "Not so fast, my young friend. There is no airport in Oz. Never was, and never will be. It's just notpossible for airplanes to fly here from anywhere. Queen Ozma herself sawto that after a certain incident with a little girl and a pet monkey. No, this cannot be for real. Must be some kind of trick. "

Graham was crestfallen. He was just not prepared to accept such a dismalopinion. "Oh, no! I'm sure you're mistaken. They wouldn't have a signlike that if there was no airport there. "

"Well, I hate to say I told you so. But you'll see when we get therethat there's nothing there, " Telly said emphatically. "At least, not anairport . . . " He suddenly stopped in his tracks. "I can't believe whatI'm seeing!" he shouted incredulously as the sight of a huge airport(the size of L. A. International) loomed up ahead. 

"SEE! I told you so!" shouted Graham with obvious delight as he ranforward. "Home sweet home, here I come!"

"Not so fast!" warned Telly. "Not so fast! It has to be a trick. Maybethe Wicked Witch has created an illusion and . . . And it's really hercastle. . . . "

But Graham was already out of earshot. Before him loomed a giant 747glistening in the sun, its huge jet engines screaming with impatiencefor full power to be applied, and the passenger door was open at the topof the stairs with a smiling flight attendant beckoning Graham aboard. "Hurry up!" she called. "We're ready to take off, and you're runninglate. "

Graham scurried up the stairs as fast as his little legs would carryhim. . . . The flight attendant checked his name off a list, and the doorclosed quickly, leaving Graham with no time to say goodbye to Telly, whowas at that moment looking up at the plane forlornly as it taxiedforward toward the runway. Meanwhile, Graham was being bundled into hisseat and buckled into his seatbelt by the pretty flight attendant. Itwas only then that he remembered that he had not purchased a ticket, norhad he had a chance to say goodbye to Telly. He was seated alone by thewindow and quickly looked out to see if he could catch a glimpse of hisfriend. But it was too late; the plane was already at the end of therunway and several feet into the air with the countryside whizzing pastand getting smaller and smaller as the plane quickly ascended. 

The captain's voice came over the intercom loud and clear. "Goodmorning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We havedeparted Oz International Airport and will be cruising at twentythousand feet. We should be arriving at our destination in about threehours. You may remove your seatbelts and make yourselves comfortable. Refreshments will be served shortly, and you may watch our in-flightmovie if you wish. "

Graham looked around to see who else was sharing his flight. He wasastonished to see that there were no other passengers at all. Now hebegan to get frightened. Why would a great big airplane take off with nopassengers except himself? And who was that captain addressing when hesaid "ladies and gentlemen"? He was beginning to feel that he had beencaught up in an episode of Telly's _Twilight Zone_. Just then, he caughta glimpse of a portly gentleman approaching him from the front of theplane. He assumed there was another passenger after all, one who musthave been sitting in the front seat, and too low for his head to bevisible. However, as the gentleman approached closer to where Graham wasseated, the boy became even more perplexed. The gentleman in questionwas none other than William Shakespeare! Oh, there was no mistaking suchan historical figure. Graham had seen paintings and drawings of him manytimes. And his clothes and features were an exact replica of thoseportrayals. Not only that, but he was carrying a great big book entitled_The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_. Suddenly Graham flushedwith embarrassment. How could he think for one moment that this wasWilliam Shakespeare? The fellow was obviously an actor, perhaps on hisway home from making a movie and so late for his flight that he did nothave time to change his clothes or remove his makeup. At that moment thegentleman spoke . . . "Good day, my dear fellow. My name is WilliamShakespeare. Do you mind if I sit here? The plane's rather crowded and Isee that you have the whole aisle to yourself. "

[Illustration]

"Okay! That's it, " thought Graham. "The guy's a definite nut case. Musthave escaped from the looney bin and somehow got to Oz. The plane'scrowded indeed! He and I are the only passengers! Every single seat isempty. " However, "Mr. Shakespeare" seated himself next to Graham withoutwaiting for a reply. "I know that you don't believe I'm who I say I am, "he said. "But I can assure you, I am he who is often referred to as TheBard of Avon. All I'd like you to do is to tell earth's disbelievers whodon't accept that I wrote my works that I did indeed write them. "Without waiting for Graham to respond, he then proceeded to break intoverse in a gentle, melodic voice:

 "_I am he who wrote my verse, My dramas, sonnets, quibbles, rhyme, I'm Shakespeare still--dear England's Bard-- And shall ever be, throughout time. 

 I wrote, 'tis true, some sonnets, plays, To make a living, pass the time In merriment or jest and glee-- I turned out many a ribaled rhyme. 

 To set the world right, And make snivelers agree As to who wrote Shakespeare, If 'twere BACON or He, Or Marlowe or Pitt, Or scribes ages old, I say to them all-- The truth is now told. 

 When a man among kings (I was knighted by one) Where a handle or wheel makes a favorite son Distinguished through time for something he's done, For a knight in his day must his laurels have won. 

 With a band of king's players by Bill Shakespeare led, I played many roles, e'en recalled the dead To piece out my plot or to string out my rhyme, Nor considered it theft, more an honor that time, To borrow a plot for a queen or a king, And watch their amuse as my poor muse would sing. So each time I needed a plot or a play I searched o'er the tomes where musty plots lay Bulging out with ideas from craniums dust, Whose shades may have helped as I now know and trust. But that any one man made a plot or a play, Or was such singled out as a ruse for my pay, I deny in _fac toto_ in spirit this day. Should any man's play be found in my work, Which was not by me writ, 'tis a publisher's quirk; Which one day I'll acclaim; for I mean to read all As signed with my name_. "

Young Graham was beyond words at this outpouring of verse. The mode oflanguage was not something he could identify with in his everyday world, and it was quite beyond his level of comprehension. But he sensed thiswas no ordinary man in his presence. "Are you really WilliamShakespeare?" he ventured forth timidly. "And if you truly are, howcould you still be alive hundreds of years after you were born?"

"Well, young one, " smiled the Bard kindly, "that is a longstory. . . Suffice to say I am here with you having this conversation. Andlook around you--many of the other passengers are people from yourhistory books. We are en route to our home beyond the outer fringes ofOz. We are graduates of the University of Higher Consciousness, and weare on our way to Historicalfigureland. So much hatred exists in theworld you come from, and where there is not exactly hatred per se, thereis often indifference or even total apathy for the plight of others. Andas if your world were not bad enough with the constant warring betweennations, many individuals in so-called civilized lands feel the need todeclare war on their neighbors. I am speaking of your young peoplekilling each other for no other reason than that it has become the thingto do. What is so sad is that they totally lack remorse for theirvictims' pain and suffering and give not the slightest thought to thevictims' families left behind in utter and complete desolation andsadness at their terrible loss. Our goal is to find a way to encouragepeople to reach out to one another--to care for one another. That is whywe wrote our books and plays, to teach people what life be truly about. "

_Okay. That's it_, thought Graham. _There's no doubt about the truth ofwhat the old guy is saying regarding earth conditions. But the queer oldboy is definitely off his rocker. First, there's definitely no otherpassengers on the plane, and_ . . . "Good grief!" he exclaimed as theoutlines of human forms began to appear in the other passenger seats. Gradually these forms became more solid until he realized that indeedthe plane was filled with passengers, many of which were historicalfigures in the modes of dress of their particular times in history. First he saw Napoleon in the aisle to his immediate left. Then, next tohim, Marie Antoinette. Then Mary, Queen-of-Scots, Henry the Eighth, andAlexander the Great. In the next aisle: Caesar Augustus, Mark Anthony, Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, Aristotle, and Plato. It seemed that everyhistorical figure of note was present aboard the plane, not to mention asprinkling of people from various walks of life, such as MarcusAurelius, Jane Merrick, Kenneth Gage Baum, Fred Stone, Judy Garland, andRay Powell. Of course, Graham did not know who everyone was by name, butmany faces looked familiar to him. 

"I'm terribly sorry, " apologized Shakespeare. "I didn't realize thatyour eyes had not yet become sensitized to the higher vibrations of myfriends. What must you have thought of me?" "Oh, nothing at all, " criedGraham. "I mean, I hadn't really noticed all these people. I was soengrossed in what you were saying. "

"Really?" replied the Bard with a twinkle in his eye. "I quiteunderstand. People are always totally captivated by my words. Anyway, asI was saying, or rather, as I was about to say. . . "

At that moment, a head bent over the Bard's shoulder to say hello toGraham. It was none other than Mark Twain, whom Graham instantlyrecognized. And with him was a gentleman who introduced himself asCharles Dickens. He gave Graham a wink and shook his hand. "You're afine young fellow. I predict that you will go far in life. " Of course, Graham was speechless. It suddenly hit him that he was in the company ofsome of the world's greatest human beings. If he ever got back home andtried to tell people, they would be sure to lock him up and throw awaythe key. Mark Twain asked how things were going and assured him that, while the plane would not be able to transport him home, he felt certainthat, when the time came, a way would be found which would enable him toreturn. "If not, " Mark Twain said, "not to worry. There'd never be adull moment in Oz!"

_Oh, that's just great!_ thought Graham. Now there was a chance that hewould not get back. But did not Shakespeare say that he wanted him toinform the world that he had written his own stuff? He would not havesaid that if he did not think that the boy would get home to tell thetale. _What am I saying?_ thought Graham. _None of this is reallyhappening. I'm just having the most gigantic, craziest dream anyone hasever had_. 

"By the way, " said Mark Twain, interrupting Graham's thoughts. "Here area couple of letters I forgot to mail to my poet friend, Bayard Taylor. They should probably be in some collection somewhere so, if you'd takethem back with you, I'd appreciate it. I said in one letter that I'dprobably forget to stamp it, and I did. " Twain handed Graham the lettersand indicated that he did not mind the boy's reading them if he wantedto. 

_There I go again_, thought Graham, _believing in my own dream. _ In anyevent, he settled back in the seat and began to read the letters. However, before he could really get started, Charles Dickens interruptedhim. 

"As usual, this Twain fellow takes over and hogs the conversation. Inthe very near future, young Graham, you and I will get together, andI'll tell you some very interesting stories of my childhood. In themeantime, " he said, scribbling on a piece of paper that had some kind ofdrawing on it, "I have autographed a sketch of Boz to take back withyou. Boz was the name I used when I first embarked on my literaryadventures. In case you are wondering if there is a cryptic connectionbetween Boz and Baum and Oz, you'll have to keep wondering about that. Iwas born at Portsea, Portsmouth, a few minutes before midnight on theseventh of February, 1812, forty-four years before Mr. Baum was born. Icame to Oz in 1870, when Mr. Baum was only fourteen years old. He wasnot destined to write about Oz until some thirty years later. Now, whenyou come back, I'll tell you some more about my early days, and I'llmake sure that our friend Twain doesn't bask in his self-perceivedlimelight while we're having our important discussions. "

[Illustration]

"Now, you listen up, Mr. Dickens, sir, " said Mark Twain withmock anger, for they were actually the best of friends. "I resent that, and I won't have you filling the boy's head with a lot of imaginaryadventures and strange connections between words. Next you'll be tellinghim there's a link between the Land of Ev and Robert Evans--or even moreludicrous--that Frank Oz and Michael Ovitz of Hollywood have a mysticallink to Oz because they have Oz in their names, or even more ludicrous, that you and Chris Dulabone have a connection because you both have theinitials C. D. I mean, how far can you go with this stuff? I'm tellingthe boy about real things and about real life. . . "

Dickens just shook his head slowly and turned to Graham. "I really don'tpay much attention to his rambling. Go ahead and read his boring lettersbefore he has a kitten. I won't forget my promise to you, and we'll havea delightfully interesting time together, you'll see. And I promise you, my stories will not be imaginary. Oh, by the way, here's some of mycorrespondence you might wish to take back with you. One is a letter andnote I sent to my American friend, Mr. Fields of Boston, and also somebeverage recipes I sent to Mrs. Fields. Also an announcement of twoplays I produced, one of which I acted in and--"

"You're not the only actor around here, Mr. Dickens, sir!" interruptedTwain. "I've acted in plays, too. For example, I was in _Loan of aLover_ in 1876. Your Mrs. Fields, by the way, said I was wonderful init. And as long as you're producing letters you wrote to Mr. Fields, I'll give young Graham a copy of a letter that I wrote to Mr. Fields. Sowhat do you think about that?"

Graham was astounded to hear these two world-famous personages fightinglike children and competing for his attention. What would his historyteacher and his fellow classmates think? He accepted the additionalmaterial, then settled down to begin reading as the two men continued toargue all the way back to their seats. He started with Mark Twain'sletters. There were actually four letters, one of them completely inGerman, which Twain probably had not meant to hand him. But the boy readit anyway, no matter that he did not understand a word. It did not dawnon him that, if this was a dream, where did the German words come fromif they were not in his consciousness to begin with? Below is a copy ofthe letters for the record, although it is suggested that the readerskim over them for now, as they are not relevant except as historicalinterest:

_Schloss-Hotel Heidelberg May 7, 1878 H. Albert

Lieber Herr Taylor:

Wir werden hier blieben viellicht für drie Monate, zum Schloss Hotel. 

--Dies hotel steht about fünf und siebenzig Fuss Höhler als das Schloss, und commandirt ein Aussicht welcher ohne Ahnlichkeit in der Welt hat. (Sie mussen excuse auskratchens, interlineations. )

Ich habe heute gecalled on der Herr Professor Ihne, qui est dieProfessor von Englishen Zunge im University, to get him to recommend einDeutchen Lehrer Für mich, welcher he did. Er sprach um mehrererAmericanischer authors, und meist güngstiger & vernügungsvoll von Ihrer;dass er knew you and Ihrer so wohl durch Ihrer geschereibungen; und wannIch habe gesagt Ich sollen Ihr schreiben heute Nacht gewesen if nothinghappened, er bitte mich Opfer sein compliments, und hoffe Ihnen will ihmbesuchen wenn du Kommst an Heidelberg. Er war ein vortrefflicher andliebwürdiger & every way delightful alte gentleman. Man sagt Ich mussein Pass (in der English, Passport, ) haben to decken accidents. Däfurgefelligt Ihnen furnish me one. Meine Beschreibung ist vollenden: Geborn1835; 5 Fuss 8 ein wenig unter, sometimes ein wenig oben; dunkel braunHaar und rhotes Moustache, full Gesicht, mit sehr hohe Oren and leichtgrau practvolles strahlenden Augen und ein Verdammtes gut moralcharacter. Handlungkeit, Author von Bücher. Ich habe das Deutche sprachegelernt und bin ein glücklicher Kind, you bet. With warmest regards &kindness remembrances from all our party to you & your wife anddaughter. 

Yrs sincerely, S. L. Clemens

The Königstuhl, June 10 [1878] Lieber Herrn Taylor:

(Don't know whether it ought to be Herr or Herrn). Am much obliged forthe letter--it was from friend whom I have been trying to ferret out. Yes, we still live at the Schloss-Hotel, & shall doubtless continue todo so until the neighborhood of August--but I only eat and sleep there;my work-den is the second story of a little Wirthschaft which stands atthe base of the tower on the summit of the Konigsstuhl. I walk up thereevery morning at 10, write until 3, talk the most hopeless andunimprovable German with the family 'til 5, then tramp down to the Hotelfor the night. It is a schones Aussicht up there as you may remember. The exercise of climbing up there is invigorating but devilish. I havejust written regrets to the Paris Literary Convention. I did hate tohave to miss that entertainment, but I knew that if I went there & spenta fortnight it would take me another fortnight to get settled down intothe harness again--couldn't afford that. 

The Emperor is a splendid old hero! That he could survive such woundsnever entered my head--yet by the news I judge he is actuallyrecovering. It is worth something to be a Lincoln or a Kaiser Wilhelm--&it gives a man a better opinion of the world to show appreciation forsuch men--& what is better, love of them. --I have not seen anything ofthis outburst of affectionate indignation since Mr. Lincoln'sassassination gave the common globe a sense of personal injury. Ich habeder Consul Smith gesehen ein Paar Wochen ago, & told him about thatPass, und er hat mir gesagt das er wurde be absent from thisgegen--(something) zwei oder drei Wochen, aber wann er sollte hierwieder nachkommen, wollte er der pass geschlagen worden & snake it offto Berlin. Vielleicht hat er noch nicht zu Mannheim zuruck-kehrt. 

Now as to the grammar of this language; I haven't conquered theAccusative Case yet (I began with that) & there are three more. Itbegins to seem to me that I have got to try to get along with theAccusative alone & leave the rest of this grammar to be tackled in thefuture life. 

With our kindest remembrances to you & yours

Yrs sincerely, S. L. Clemens

Hotel de l'Ecu de Geneve Sept. 8/78

My dear Mr. Taylor:

I have learned the German language & forgotten it again; so I resumeEnglish once more. I have just returned from a walking trip to MontBlanc--which I was intending to ascend, but was obliged to give up theidea, as I had gone too early & there was still snow on it. I find yourletter here; if you will be so kind as to forward Slote's letter to theabove address I think it will be in time to catch me--& in any case Iwill make arrangements to have it follow me. (I am going to try toenclose the necessary stamps in this, but if I forget it--however, Iwon't)

We have been poking around slowly through Switzerland for a month; aweek hence we go to Venice--to Rome & other places later; & we arebooked for Munich Nov. 10 (for the winter. ) One of these days I am goingto whet up my German again & take a run to Berlin, & have a talk withyou in that fine old tongue. 

Yrs Ever

S. L. Clemens

No. 1a Karlstrasse, (2e stock) Munich, Dec. 14 [1878]

My Dear Mr. Taylor:

When we were poking around Italy 3 or 4 weeks ago, I was told that youwere ill, but straightway saw it contradicted in a newspaper. Now comesthis paragraph in Galignani which not only shows that the contradictionwas erroneous, but shows how ignorant one may be in this country aboutwhat is happening only a few hundred miles away; especially when one isburied in work & neither talks with people or often looks in the paper. We three folks are heartily glad to hear that you are coming happily outof it; & we are venturing to hope that by this time you are whollyrestored. 

We are located for the winter, --I suppose. But the children are havingsuch a run of coughs & diptheria [sic], that I can't tell at what momentMrs. Clemens may take fright & flee to some kindlier climate. However, Istick hard at work & make what literary hay I can while we tarry. Ourlittle children talk German as glibly as they do English, now, but therest of us are mighty poor German scholars, I can tell you. Rev. Twitchell (who was over here with me a while, ) conceived a prettycorrect average of my German. When I was talking, (in my native tongue, )about some rather private matters in the hearing of some Germans oneday, Twitchel said, "Speak in German, Mark, --some of these people mayunderstand English. "

Many a time when teachers & dictionaries fail to unravel knottyparagraphs, we wish we could fly to you for succor; we even go so far asto believe you can read a German newspaper & understand it; & in momentsof deep irritation I have been provoked into expressing the opinion thatyou are the only foreigner except God who can do that thing. I would notrob you of your food or clothes or your umbrella, but if I caught yourGerman out I would take it. But I don't study any more, --I have given itup. 

I & mine join in the kindest remembrances & best wishes to you & yourfamily. 

Sincerely Yours

Saml. L. Clemens

We are going to try to run over to Berlin in the spring_. 

As Graham finished Mark Twain's last letter--the one to Mr. Fields, dated 1874--he noticed that the next letter from Dickens to Mr. Fieldswas dated 1867--seven years prior. He wondered if the two famous writershad actually crossed paths or had just known the Fields independent ofone another. Either way, it was interesting to note that they werecontemporaries. He had always imagined that Dickens had lived in a muchearlier era than Twain. Well, to continue:

_Westminster Hotel, New York Sunday, Twenty-ninth December, 1867

My Dear Fields:

When I come to Boston for the two readings of the 6th and 7th, I shallbe alone, as the Dolby must be selling elsewhere. If you and Mrs. Fieldsshould have no other visitor, I shall be very glad indeed on thatoccasion to come to you. It is very likely that you may have some onecome with you. Of course you will tell me so if you have, and I willthen re'mbellish the Parker House. 

Since I left Boston last, I have been so miserable that I have beenobliged to call in a Dr. --Dr. Fordyce Barker, a very agreeable fellow. He was strongly inclined to stop the Readings altogether for some fewdays, but I pointed out to him how we stood committed, and how I must goon if it could be done. My great terror was yesterday's Matinee, but itwent off splendidly. (A very heavy cold indeed, an irritated conditionof the uvula, and a restlessly low state of the nervous system, wereyour friends maladies. If I had not avoided visiting, I think I shouldhave been disabled for a week or so. )

I hear from London that the general question in society is, what will beblown up next year by the Fenians. 

With love to Mrs. Fields, believe me, Ever Affectionately yours, And hers, CHARLES DICKENS_

Following this letter to Mr. Fields was the note dated 1869 and therecipes for the brewing of pleasant beverages. Last was the program forthe two plays at the Tavistock House Theatre. Graham was really lookingforward to bringing all these things back with him. 

As Graham got to the last line of the last letter, his eyes began tofeel heavy. The whirlwind of activity since his abduction had caught upwith him. Just as he was falling asleep, the sound of the captain'svoice on the intercom jerked him awake. "Ladies and gentlemen, we areapproaching Historicalfigureland International Airport. We hope you hadan enjoyable flight and hope to see you again on Oz Airlines. Oh, and toour young guest from America, you are welcome to visit your friends hereany time. But I'm sure you want to continue with your mission, and youwill be glad to hear that we will be making an immediate turnaroundafter the disembarkation of our other passengers. I believe you werebrought on board for the sole purpose of delivering some importantdocuments back to America, but you are certainly welcome to stay as longas you wish. "

At that, the plane landed with a slight bump and soon taxied to theterminal. The doors opened and everyone began to file out--many, anticipating that Graham would soon be returning, didn't engage him inconversation, but shook his hand warmly and wished him well. Mark Twaingave him a hug and said how much he had enjoyed his company. He saidthat Graham reminded him a lot of Tom Sawyer who, he said, currentlylived down the street from him. Seeing Graham's puzzled expression, hequickly explained that any imaginary character an author dreams up isactually a person that the author has tuned into. And that an authorrarely has an original thought in his head but is really very good atcatching glimpses of activities (present, past or future) somewhere increation. 

As Mark Twain turned to the exit, Graham suddenly remembered a questionthat he had wanted to ask. "Oh, Mr. Twain, " he called. "I wanted to askhow you came to use the name Mark Twain. I know your real name is SamuelClemens. . . . "

"Well, " responded Twain, "no one has ever asked me that questionbefore--Just kidding, " he added quickly, seeing Graham's expression. "Yes, I am asked it all the time. The name was first used by an oldMississippi river pilot named Isaiah Sellers, who used to write itemsfor the _New Orleans Picayune_, in which he told of his adventures. Hesigned them Mark Twain, which in the parlance of pilots is a leadsmancall meaning two fathoms, or twelve feet. When I was a cub pilot, Iwrote a burlesque on Captain Seller's articles and published it in arival paper under the signature of Sargeant Fathom. Unfortunately, thecaptain was so hurt by the burlesque that he never wrote anotherarticle. I still feel badly about it to this day, for I would never haveintentionally hurt the old gentleman's feelings. Anyway, in 1863, when Iwas working for the _Enterprise_ in Virginia City, Nevada, I wanted agood pen name and, while I was trying to think of one, I received thenews of the death of the good captain. This brought to mind the nameMark Twain, and so I adopted the name in his honor. I signed it first ina letter from Carson City to the _Enterprise_ on February second, 1863. So now you know, my young friend, " said Twain as he handed him anautographed photo of himself. "Something to keep for yourself, inremembrance of your visit here. " He hugged Graham again and wavedgoodbye to the boy as he descended from the plane. 

Several distinguished-looking gentlemen stopped to introduce themselvesto Graham. One said his name was Ralph Waldo Emerson and another, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Yet another, Isaac Newton, who said Graham wouldprobably become a scientist. 

"Undoubtedly a physicist, " said Albert Einstein. 

"Oh, no, " interjected Eugene O'Neill. "There's no question that he willbe a writer. " This last remark was overheard by Charles Lindbergh, whoinsisted that Graham would be a flyer. Then two deep resonant voicesspoke in unison: "It is obvious that the boy is a born actor. " Thespeakers were Lionel Barrymore and John Gilbert. But Senator CharlesSumner had the final word: "Whether he becomes an actor or not isimmaterial: I can assure you that this young man's ultimate destiny isin the political arena. "

After the distinguished group finished arguing about Graham's futurevocation, they said that, since he seemed to be starting an autographcollection, they would be glad to add theirs to the list. Even JohnDickens, father of Charles Dickens, signed the sheet. Then Emerson alsohanded him a note that he had written to--of all people--Mrs. Fields!"Don't mention this to Dickens or Twain, " he said. "They'll just bejealous. "

Turning to make sure Emerson had disembarked, Nathaniel Hawthorne winkedat Graham and whispered, "Here's a little note that I, too, wrote toMrs. Fields. Not a word now to Emmy, Dickybird, or Marky-Mark. " Grahamlaughed out loud at the nicknames being given to Emerson, Dickens, andTwain, as well as the schoolboy-like antics being displayed by thesegreat men. Then Edward Lear, who wrote _The Owl and the Pussycat_, alsohanded him a handwritten note to Mrs. Fields. Graham could not help butthink what a popular lady this Mrs. Fields must have been in her day. Hewished he could have known her. 

Hawthorne then handed him a signed photograph, as did Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Thomas Alva Edison, Albert Einstein, and H. G. Wells. Even Stephan Crane and Rudyard Kipling produced photographs. 

Mr. Shakespeare was the last to leave. He had gone back to his seat whenMessrs. Twain and Dickens were vying for Graham's attention. He, too, hugged the boy as he said goodbye, then handed him a piece of paper. "Ihave written down the verses I recited to you earlier, my friend--justin case you are not able to remember them all. It is important that thisbe given, simply because so many people doubt my authorship. I supposeafter it is published there will still be doubters, but so be it. Skeptics have always existed and, I assume, always will. Some peoplelike to doubt the reality of certain phenomena that appears quiteobvious to others. I suspect it makes them feel secure: something theyno longer have to deal with. Well, good luck, my little friend. I'm sureyou will find your way home. Oh, incidentally, I almost forgot. I didn'twant to one-upmanship Dickens and Twain in their presence, but I was anactor too, you know--long before those two. You might also like to havemy autographed sketch. You will note the difference in my spelling of myname and the later versions. " He stuffed a piece of paper in Graham'sshirt pocket as he exited. 

As the plane's doors closed behind Shakespeare, the flight attendantbrought Graham a refreshing glass of lemonade. His thoughts turned toTelly, who had been so sad at being left behind. He eagerly lookedforward to seeing the little guy again. 

Graham slept the entire trip back. He awoke just as the plane taxied tothe terminal. And who should be waiting in exactly the same place as heleft him but Telly, who was so glad that Graham had returned that he ranup and hugged him for the longest time. 

"I knew you'd come back, " he said. "That's why I waited. I knew that theplane couldn't be going to America. In fact, I still don't believe thatthere was any plane or airport or anything. I think it was all sometrick of the Witch to confuse us. Planes simply cannot exist in Oz. Transportation is either by foot or via some magical contrivance such asthe animated Gump or the famous Red Wagon. "

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, " replied Graham, waving the bundle ofletters, photographs, and drawings in his hand. "But where do you thinkthese came from if the whole thing was some kind of hallucination? Andhow could I read German words if the words weren't in my consciousnessto begin with? And I certainly couldn't have made up Shakespeare'swords. "

"And I hate to disappoint YOU, " answered Telly, quite tartly, "but youmight wish to look behind you. "

Graham turned to look behind him to catch a glimpse of the entireairport fading away. Not only that, but the papers in his hand had alsofaded away to absolute nothingness. "Oh, no!" cried the boy. "Now I haveno proof of my experience!"

"That's because it never happened, " Telly replied dryly. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

THE WINKIE COUNTRY

Oz was as unlike America as it could be, yet also familiar. It was notvery long at all before Graham began to feel almost at home among thesoft yellow countryside of the vast Winkie territory in which the pairnow found themselves. In fact, Graham had come to feel so comfortablethat he had all but forgotten about the evil Witch. He might haveremained content and carefree indefinitely, had he not heard the growlthat came forth from a nearby top-hat bush. It was a most deafeninggrowl that sounded as terrible as a buzz-saw and as alive as an unfedzoo animal. Graham shuddered. He wondered what sort of macabre beingcould possibly make such a horrendous noise. Then a voice rang out. Itwas not a human voice at all, and this made Graham shudder even more, whereas Telly seemed quite unfazed. (That was only because he waswalking and napping at the same time. ) Apparently he had switched toautomatic pilot, then closed his eyes as he drifted into a state ofoblivion. 

"Do you remember how the Wicked Witches sent the terrible Forest Monsterafter the Wizard?" said the voice. 

"Of course I do, " answered a second voice, equally unhuman-sounding "Andwho could forget the time Allidap sent forth those fearsome gray wolvesafter little Dorothy? They could easily have ripped her to shreds. "

Both of the voices sounded distinctly throaty and animalistic. In fact, they sounded as a wild beast might sound, could a wild beast speakEnglish. It occurred to Graham that this was Oz. Wild animals COULDspeak English!

"And do you think that Witch pulled a good scare when she sent thoseangry birds to attack Dorothy and her friends?" said one of the wildcreatures. 

Graham could take no more of this. It was obvious that they weresurrounded by hidden animals sent by the Wicked Witch to eat them (atleast him; he doubted they would attempt to eat Telly, since he would behighly indigestible). He quickly jabbed Telly in his rib-cage to awakenhim to the imminent danger and, at the same time, he stooped over tograb a yellow rock from the ground. It was not much of a weapon, but itwould have to do. He held up the rock threateningly. 

"Okay, wolves or monsters or whatever you are!" he shouted. "I hear youconspiring. And I know that you are working for the Wicked Witch! We'renot going to give up without a fight, so I suggest that you all goaway!" He smiled with a hint of pride in his brave speech. But suddenly, there was a rustle of leaves behind him, and a huge creature sprang outfrom behind a bush and leaped at the pair. Graham, not wanting to beattacked from behind, swung himself around to face the creature. As hedid so, he absently lowered his weapon at the sight of two rows ofgleaming white fangs and claws that could easily have torn a little boylike himself apart in an instant. He realized that the rock in his handwas a puny weapon indeed for confronting such a ferocious beast. Butnevertheless, he raised it again as a sort of reflex action and thrustit directly at the teeth of the creature. At that moment, out of thecorner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of another set of jagged teethand claws attacking from his right. It raised a huge paw and knocked himoff balance. The rock fell to the ground, out of reach. The little boywatched in horror as one of the two animals stepped forward and lookedat his face. The other one was watching Telly. 

"What do you think?" asked one of them. 

"Looks like a little boy and a tin can with arms and legs carrying a TVset, " said the other. 

"The boy's not all dressed in yellow, so he's not a Winkie. "

"Nor is he all in blue, like a Munchkin. "

"Or purple, red, or green. He matches none of the Oz colors. I wonderwhere he came from. "

"Maybe he's from Ev. Or Ix. "

"Can you speak, boy?"

Graham struggled to sit up, while Telly just stood and glaredat the beasts. He was not happy with their description of him and wasseriously considering giving them a tongue-lashing, but thoughtdiscretion was the better part of valor, at least for the moment. 

[Illustration]

When Graham was able to collect himself, he discovered that the twobeasts walked on all fours and were of the feline persuasion. These wereno hungry wolves or monsters at all. Actually, they were a lion and atiger. 

As Graham jumped to his feet, the lion sprang backward. "Yikes!" hescreamed, jumping behind the tiger. "Is he g-going to h-hurt us?"

"I don't think so, " answered the tiger. "I imagine he's just getting upto look for some din-din. " At this point, as if on cue, a loud growlechoed from the vicinity of the tiger. Not from his mouth or throat, butfrom the deepest recesses of his tummy. 

Graham looked at Telly, and Telly looked at Graham. 

"Apparently, " said Graham, "the angry growling that we heard was nothingmore than the sounds of an empty stomach. So you aren't slaves of thebad Witch, or sent to kill me?"

The tiger looked a little sheepish, which is not easy for a tiger to do. 

"Of course not, " he said. "Don't you know who I am? I am the HungryTiger of Oz. Everyone's heard of me. There have been volumes of bookswritten about me! I am always hungry, but I am not a carnivore. I amafraid I would feel just awful if ever I ate up one of my fellow beings. Here in the Land of Oz, as you know, all creatures are treated equally. I can't stand the thought of eating up any organism that mightultimately become a friend. This makes me feel bad, too. I am reduced toa strictly vegetarian diet. I yearn to gobble up a few scrumptiouslydelicious fat babies, yet I am reduced to struggling through meals oftofu-strips and Loveburger. Oh, if only my conscience would let me feastupon a fat baby just once! But, alas, I am cursed with a very strongconscience. "

"Then I am not afraid of you, " said Graham. "What about this lion?"

"He is the Cowardly Lion of Oz, " explained the Hungry Tiger. "He's gota pretty good conscience, too. "

"Then why did he attack me like that?" Graham wanted to know. 

"I didn't attack you, " replied the Cowardly Lion. "I heard you say thatthere were some wolves or monsters or something-or-others who wereworking for the Wicked Witch. You announced that you were going to fightthem, so I naturally jumped behind you to cower in fear. "

"Oh, " said Graham. "I misunderstood your actions. "

"So, " continued the Lion, "are there really slaves of the W-w-w-witcharound here?"

"I heard them talking about how a Witch sent a forest monster and somewolves to attack innocent people, " said Graham. "But . . . "

"That was us, " explained the Tiger. "We like to talk about Oz history alot. We were in the bushes looking for some yummy kiwi fruits to helpsatisfy my never-ending hunger when you came along. "

"So the Witch isn't after me after all?"

"Guess not, " replied the Tiger. "Should she be?"

"Well, " he said meekly. "I played a couple of rather crude tricks onher. I suspect that she'll be pretty peeved when she does find me. Ileft her admiring herself in a . . . Well, a kind of self-induced trance. It's kind of hard to explain. But when she finds a mirror . . . Well, Idread to think what will happen. "

The Lion and the Tiger looked at one another. The Lion stood to his fullheight, which was actually somewhat larger than most of the lions we cansee in zoos, and smiled a toothy smile. "I'll protect you, my son!" hesnarled. And how he could snarl and smile at the same time was beyondGraham, but let it suffice that he did do it. "No Wicked Witch will get'hold of any pals of mine! I'm a raging lion, after all! I am big! I amstrong! I'm the unchallenged King of the Beasts! I am the--" He dovebehind a bush when the Tiger tapped him on the shoulder. 

"Er, excuse me, " said the Tiger, "but I only wanted to get yourattention. "

"Sorry, " the Lion said meekly, slinking back into the open. 

"I think we should learn about our new chum, " suggested the HungryTiger. "After all, now that you've vowed to protect him, aren't you justa little bit curious as to who he is?"

Graham, seeing that he was expected to introduce himself, told the twocats who he was and how he came to be in Oz, how he had tricked theWitch, and how he met Telly, and how they had conspired together totrick her again, et cetera, et cetera. 

The Cowardly Lion shuddered. The Hungry Tiger swallowed hard (an actthat normally comes quite easily to him). Even Graham became a littlenervous as he recounted his dealings with the Witch and was remindedthat he was in imminent danger. "If you two would care to accompany us, you are certainly very welcome, " Graham said to the Lion and Tiger. 

"Well, I don't know about that, " replied the Lion. "At the moment, theold Witch isn't bothering us. And if she sees us with you two, she mightdecide that birds of a feather flock together, if you know what I mean. "

"Oh, don't be such a coward, " admonished the Tiger. "She'll see rightaway that we're not birds. "

At that, everyone laughed as the four headed off into the sunset. 

CHAPTER TWELVE:

THE MEETING WITH PRINCESS OZMA

Graham knew that he would need to have a good plan of action if he wasgoing to get home in spite of the Witch. He looked beseechingly at histwo new-found feline friends. Both were certainly both powerful andagile. Still, the boy knew only too well that the four of them were nomatch for the Wicked Witch. She, after all, had the ability to transportherself to any land she wished. Possibly even to other planets! If sheyearned to take them in tow as her prisoners, it seemed impossible tostop her. 

"It's terrible!" roared the Cowardly Lion. "I remember when that greenWitch appeared at the parade. She scared the living daylights out ofme!"

"But, " added the Hungry Tiger, "what I can't figure out is why QueenOzma never did anything about her. She could easily have looked into theMagic Picture to find the villainess, made a wish or two on the MagicBelt, and PRESTO, no more Wicked Witch. "

"That's puzzling, indeed, " agreed the Cowardly Lion with an obviousshudder. "Could the Witch have done something to Ozma? Maybe Ozma isunder some awful spell like she was that time when she lost her memory!Oh, dear oh dear oh dear! We have got to save her!"

"Now let's not jump to any wild conclusions, " replied the Tiger, a lowgrowl issuing forth from his stomach. "I suggest that we hurry back tothe Emerald City to ask Queen Ozma for her help. If she is under anyspells, the Wizard or Glinda will help us. If she is not under any vileenchantment, then her Magic Belt can easily wish away the Witch. She canalso send Graham home with the Belt. "

"But what if the Witch has enchanted the Wizard and Glinda, too!"bellowed the Lion, tears running down his face. "What if she's madethem all into little candy corns or tea bags or Jell-O Jigglers orsomething?"

The Tiger's stomach roared at the sound of these food words. "Pullyourself together and stop talking about food!" he said. "We can't golosing our heads over things that we don't know for sure. Maybe thewhole Witch-thing simply slipped Ozma's mind. "

The Cowardly Lion looked at his chum in a reproachful manner. "Tige, " hesaid, "do you really believe that our beloved Queen is so absent-minded?I think we owe her a bit more respect than that. We all saw thatrepulsive old woman. You saw her, too, Tige! And that th-th-threat! Youheard it, t-t-too! No, our Ozma would c-c-certainly have done somethingto stop that Wicked old W-w-witch by now! And so would Glinda! And theW-w-wizard, too! None of them would have forgotten about all of that!Let alone all th-th-three of th-th-them! No, I can feel it in my bones. She's done something dreadful to them all. They are enchanted or cursedor destroyed or--"

"Are you trying to scare yourself?" said the Tiger. 

"I d-d-don't have to try!" wailed the Lion. 

"Can't we go to your Emerald City to find out?" asked Graham, who feltthat all this talk was doing nothing for anyone. "We have to go there. It's the only way to find out for sure. "

"Our young friend has a good head for logic, " said the Tiger. "Let'shurry and get to the Emerald City. "

The two jungle-cats could move almost as swiftly as the wind. Graham, ofcourse, could not possibly have hoped to keep pace with them had he hadto walk on his own. But fortunately, the beasts were willing to allowGraham and Telly to ride upon their backs. This made the journey go muchmore quickly. 

In only a couple of days, the green of the city was in sight. In shortorder, they got to the front gates which led into this amazing andphenomenally beautiful capital of Oz. Graham could not conceal his aweat the sight of the place. 

"Home again, " said the Hungry Tiger. 

"Now we get to go in and see what poor Ozma and the Wizard have beent-t-turned into!" sighed the Cowardly Lion. 

Imby Amby, the Guardian of the Gates, met the trio with a smile ofgreeting. "Hello!" he said cheerfully. 

"Imby, " retorted the Tiger, "will you kindly tell my dear boy here thatour Queen has not been transformed into a gelatin mold?"

"I should hope not!" replied the Guardian. "Last time I saw her, she wasplaying checkers with Betsy Bobbin. Seemed to be winning, too. "

The Tiger smiled knowingly, then nudged the Lion in a friendly way. "Come on, " he said. "Let's go see our Queen. She will certainly setthings right straightaway. "

The trio hurried into the palace and quickly located the young ruler. She was gaily sipping a cup of herbal tea and having a livelyconversation with the Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl. As soon as shesaw her two old friends with the strangers, she stopped in mid-sentence. 

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look upset about something. "

The Hungry Tiger bowed low before the little girl. "Your Majesty, thisyoung man, Graham, has come from America and has escaped the clutches ofa very wicked Witch. Surely you remember the parade and the horriblethreat that this Witch spoke!"

"Surely, " replied Ozma. The Patchwork Girl impulsively did fivehandsprings and landed on the Tiger's broad back, where she proceeded torecite the following in a sing-song voice:

 "_The Wicked Witch was bad, indeed! Her evil soul was full of greed! To show her powers she did try, and on her broomstick she did fly! She tried to capture everyone; she thought that it would be such fun! But clever Ozma and the Wiz would never let her do this biz! A wholesome spell has now been cast, so that old Witch's time is past. The good old Wizard cast a spell that changed the Witch into a bell! She now can make a bathtub ring, but cannot do another thing!_"

Ozma smiled sweetly. "What Scraps is telling you, in her own spiritedway, is that your Witch was already dealt with a day or two ago. I sawwhat she had done in my Magic Picture, and I had the wonderful Wizard ofOz take care of it in his unique manner. He transformed the Witch into acow-bell. She will remain in that form until such time as she has achange of heart. When she becomes truly repentant and is willing tobecome a law-abiding citizen of Oz, she will magically become a silverChristmas bell instead of the old cow-bell. At that point, we willrestore her to her human form and allow her to live a brand new life asa new and changed individual. "

"A cow-bell, " echoed the Lion, all trace of fear having suddenlyvanished from his heart. "How interesting! I remember a time years agowhen the Wizard did a similar trick with some troublesome Imps. He madethem into buttons which would change color when they repented. "

"Yes, " said Ozma. "As for you, friend Telly, I am sure you will becomefast friends with the Tin Woodman and Tik-Tok. The two of them areupstairs right now, admiring their similarities and differences. Wouldyou like to have me summon them?"

"Oh, please do!" put in the Scarecrow. "I'd love to see Graham's metalfriend meet them. If his heart is as pure as that of my dear friend NickChopper's, I know that he will be a very good and wholesome person. "

They all agreed and, within minutes, the two metal men stepped into theroom. Nick Chopper, the famous Tin Woodman of Oz, had been recentlypolished, and so was feeling especially bright and chipper. Tik-Tok, who was a clockwork man made out of copper, was always very bright--solong as his clockwork was kept wound up. Telly seemed to be very happyin the company of these new friends. 

[Illustration]

"I think that it's time to organize a big celebration to commemorate theoverthrow of the Wicked Witch and to honor our new friends!" suggestedthe Patchwork Girl. 

"A grand idea!" agreed the Scarecrow. 

"And I'd like to hold it in the cabin that Tattypoo made for us near hermountain retreat!" interjected the Patchwork Girl. 

"Indeed!" agreed the Scarecrow. "There is plenty of land there. We couldhave games like potato-sack races and a big parade and a band or two, and. . . . "

"It sounds great!" said Scraps, leaping up, grabbing a chandelier andswinging from it while bursting into song:

 "_A party is the thing to do whenever something pleases you! I'm awful glad the Witch is belled, for lots of troubles she'd have spelled! And I am glad to meet young Graham, I hope he won't think I'm a ham! And Telly is a funny man! I hope he'll be there if he can! A lovely time we all will spend! We will not want it e'er to end_!"

She sang in her most dignified manner. Of course, Scraps and dignity areabout as compatible as oil and water, but her words were certainlyfitting to the occasion. 

The celebration was a great success. Celebrities from all over Oz werethere. Even the former Good Witch of the North put in an appearance. Itwas a celebration of nearly the magnitude of that which had caused thearrival of the Wicked Witch in the first place, except that there wereno large floats. There had been no time for the Oz folk to constructany. Besides, it seemed to everyone involved that they would not beespecially apropos under the circumstances. 

When the festivities were over, Ozma approached Graham. "Well, " she saidin her youthful but queenly voice, "have you enjoyed your little trip toOz?"

"Oh, yes!" replied the boy. "And I'm so glad to have met you. Wait untilI tell my little brother about all of this! He'll be so surprised!"

"Graham, " replied Ozma, "you can't tell your little brother about any ofthe things you've seen here. Even about meeting Dorothy or theScarecrow. "

"But . . . " began the boy. 

"Graham, " she continued, "Oz is a place that would be very interestingto some of the people back in America. So long as they know of Oz asonly a fantasy, they will not come to look for us. But our continent andits surrounding regions are very big. Our territory makes your mortalcontinents look like Rhode Island. Because some mortals do not have yourvalues, and think of no one but themselves or their bank accounts, theywould begin to seriously search out our continent. As it comprises somuch land, they might eventually break through our magical barriers andinvisibility spells--even the spell that diverts them off coursewhenever they try to reach us. These barriers have been crossed byaccident in the past, as you know. If a wicked mortal were trying to doit intentionally, he might find a way. "

"But no one has ever done it before, " said Graham. "And my brother wouldso love to hear about Oz. He'd never do anything bad. I promise. "

"I am not doubting the righteousness of your brother. But secrets getout, and people pass them along. I know this is true. I cannot allow youto tell anyone back home about Oz being a real place. I want it to beconsidered only a silly fairy tale for children. This is our greatestprotection. "

"I understand, " said Graham. "I won't tell him about it. "

"But you have proven yourself by your love for Telly, " said the Queen. "You can stay and live in Oz forever. You will be a citizen here, whereyou will never have to grow old. You will never again know sickness, andyou will never have to die. "

Graham was taken aback by the offer. "You mean it?" he said. "I can stayhere and be with Telly and the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tigerforever?"

"You can. "

Graham still seemed overwhelmed. "That would be super, " he said. "But. . . My family! I love my family. Can't you bring them here to live as well?"

"No, " Ozma said solemnly. "That is not possible. You are invited onlybecause you have proven your value. Even the Shaggy Man had to prove hisworth before staying on in Oz. Your family has not proven itself worthy. You alone may stay in Oz. "

"Then I want to go home right now, " said Graham. "I can't leave them. "

"I thought you'd say that, " sighed Ozma. "But you already know too much. I can't send you back there. It isn't that I don't trust you. But I fearthat someday you may let the secret slip. Maybe you'd talk in yoursleep. Maybe you'd grow older and be taken in by the terrible drugs andalcohol which are so common in the mortal lands. These might make yousay things that you'd normally never say. I'm sure it could never happento a boy like you, but what if. . . I'm sorry, Graham. You must stay here. I have already arranged for you to have a lovely mansion not far fromhere. Or you can stay with Telly or whomever you please. You can takeany apartments you might desire in the palace if you prefer. In fact, you are free to roam as you please. I don't want to have you think ofyourself as a prisoner. I know it will seem that way at first. But Ipromise you that the benefits of living in Oz will soon drive thoseideas from your mind. "

Graham looked at Ozma. Any sympathy he might have felt for her was gone. He saw her point, but he did feel more like a prisoner than a citizen ofOz. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

A WINDOW, A WINDOW

Graham's apartment in the palace was not at all palace-like, and itlooked as if it had not been lived in for some time. But he agreed tolive there. He had no desire to live in Ozma's palace, but he wanted tohave the ability to visit his friends on occasion. He still saw Ozma asa captor. All he had ever wanted was to go home, and now he knew that hewas never going to achieve that goal. In his heart, he hated Ozma fordoing this to him. The very least she could do would have been to bringhis family here! Why was she so structured about things? This was hardlythe stuff that nice fairy tales were made of!

Graham's apartment was in a very secluded part of the palace where hewould not have to see anyone unless he elected to. There were noneighbors to speak of. Graham sort of preferred it that way. He did notwant to speak his mind about the cruel little Queen to anyone. She wasso mean that he feared she would make a cow-bell out of him if he seemedthe least bit insubordinate. . . . So he sat in an old settee and brooded. He had a good supply of books to keep him company, and all of the Oziancelebrities had agreed to visit him often. At the time, he had agreed tothese visits. But now, as he sat staring at the wall, he wished thatthey would not come. He yearned only to be left alone. But one can, after all, only be left alone for a short while before he becomeslonesome. And Graham was not so very long in becoming anxious for somesort of companionship, or at least some form of stimulation. He went toa bookshelf and perused the titles on the various tomes that were there. _The Emerald City of Oz_ was among them. Graham sullenly took it in hishands and flopped it open. To his astonishment, he found there areference to Dorothy's aunt and uncle being allowed to come and live inOz to be close to her. Not only that, but it recounted how Dorothy hadcome to visit Oz on many occasions, gone back home to Kansas, and eventold people about Oz while she was there! This really made Graham feelinsulted. If Ozma could trust a girl, why not a boy? For the next coupleof hours, Graham pored over the many books that he found in the palacelibrary's vast collection. Each and every time a person, adult, boy, orgirl, came to Oz, Ozma had always treated him as she had Dorothy. Infact, the very Shaggy Man that Ozma had mentioned actually had to beg tostay in Oz! Ozma had practically insisted that he be sent home! Why wasshe acting so cruelly toward himself, but toward no one else? He stoodup indignantly and decided then and there to make his way back to thethrone room and have a word with Ozma. That mean little girl would havea darn good explanation for this, or she would have a black eye!

Graham walked the corridors of the palace for about twenty minutes. Butthey seemed to have twisted and turned around. They were not as heremembered them at all. He wondered at this. Could Ozma have done thisto permanently entrap him? He grew to hate Ozma more and more as theminutes ticked away. The corridors seemed endless! And none seemed tolead to anyplace in particular, either. "Ooh!" he said, gritting histeeth in frustration. "When I find that little twirp of a Queen, I'mgoing to show her what-for!" But three more hours of frustration broughthim no closer to this goal. At last, he flung himself to the ground andlooked up at the ceiling. "I hate you, Princess Ozma!" he grunted. "Ihate you!"

[Illustration]

Then, from sheer exhaustion, he fell asleep. He remained asleep for anundeterminable period of time. He was awakened by a shaft of light inhis eyes. A window! There was a window! He had overlooked it in hisfrustrated exhaustion, but now it was evident to him. Oh, it was a bithigh, but he felt that he might be able to jump up to it. He pickedhimself up. His body was still a bit exhausted, but he was a young boy. And in good shape. He made his leap. Then he picked himself up and triedagain. It took him sixteen tries to make it, but he finally managed tograb hold of the edge of the window. There was no glass, so he pulledhimself through. The land outside was a barren mass of crowdedprickle-weeds and gnarled old trees. Obviously not a part of the EmeraldCity that would be mentioned in a travel agent's brochures. But Graham wasdetermined to find Ozma. He pushed aside the prickling weeds as best hecould and trudged through the dust and muck of the area. It nauseatedhim, but he moved on. He thought how odd it was that the Emerald City ofOz would have such an unpleasant area in it. But he let these thoughtsdissolve as he recalled what an unpleasant queen the place had. Afterseveral hours of fighting against the weeds, most of which were twicehis size, he was surprised to hear a small voice. "Who are you?" itsaid. 

[Illustration]

"I'm Graham, " he replied. 

"Really?" said the voice. "I love your crackers. Where are you?"

"I'm in a bunch of weeds, " he said. 

"Oh? How come?"

"I was trying to find the front of Ozma's palace. Can you help me findit?"

"I could, " said the voice. "But you are about four thousand miles outof your way. "

"What?" said Graham. "You're wrong! I just escaped out of a window inOzma's palace a few hours ago! And I know I haven't made any progresshardly at all!"

"I'm afraid it's you who are wrong, " replied the voice. "Ozma's palaceis a long, long journey from here. Ah, here you are!"

A burst of sudden fire appeared out of nowhere; it burned away a numberof the weeds, and Graham saw a clear tunnel through the weeds to openair. In addition to that, however, he saw the most unusual creature hehad ever seen . . . It was not very large, but it looked as if it werecomposed of several different-sized squares and rectangles. All straightedges, nothing rounded. It had thick, leathery skin, and threeglistening hairs grew from the tip of its rectangular tail. The creaturespoke: "Now that I have a face to go along with the voice, I can seethat you are a stranger in these parts. Allow me to introduce myself. Iam he who is called the Woozy. To the best of my knowledge, I am theonly Woozy in the world, so I've never had need of any other particularname. Happy to meet you, Graham. I hope that you are a nice fellow, andnot some meany who will say Krizzle-Kroo to me. "

"N-no, " stuttered Graham. "I wouldn't say a thing like that, I'm sure. But--I have just climbed out a window of Ozma's palace. I couldn'tpossibly be as far from there as you say!"

"Yes, you are, " replied the Woozy. "You must be mistaken about thewindow. "

"But Ozma was there! And the Scarecrow, and the Tin Woodman, and thePatchwork Girl, and Tik-Tok, and . . . And everyone!"

"I'm sorry, my friend Graham, " said the Woozy. "There is no palace here. The only building here that I know of is that one that was built by theold Wicked Witch of the West. The Winkies say that she used to have abunch of winding corridors in there that were meant to drive her slavesnuts if they ever were sent there as a punishment. "

"But how did I get there from the Emerald City? Ozma was really mean tome, so I locked myself away in a room there. "

"Ozma was mean to you?" the Woozy said with obvious shock. "Are you avillain?"

Graham quickly related the whole story to the Woozy, who seemed to bethe only friend (however unfamiliar) he had had around him in an awfullylong time. 

"My, " replied the Woozy. "That is quite a story. But I fear you wereduped, my friend. "

"Duped?" echoed he. 

"I think you were never in the Emerald City. Somehow, the Witch sent youhere and created a very elaborate hallucination for you. She uses theseweeds for that sometimes. That's why I was burning them away. I can makefire come out of my eyes when I'm angry, and these wicked weedscertainly make me feel that way! Want to see?"

"No, " sighed Graham. "So you mean that wasn't Ozma who talked to me?"

"Certainly not!" The Woozy was indignant. "Our dear Queen is not likethat at all! I can assure you that you spoke to a hallucination causedby an infusion made out of these dratted weeds!"

"Yes, my little square-boxed squiggley!" came the voice of the Witch. "You have assessed the situation very well. " The Witch appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "Did you really think I was fooled by thatruse? You must think I'm a real moron! But I have won! Telly is disposedof for good!"

"Allidap!" shouted the Woozy. "The fake one from the parade! It's her!"At the sight of the hated individual, a huge blast of fire burst forthfrom his eyeballs. The Witch ducked aside, but not before getting herface badly blackened and her clothing ruined. "You just wait!" spat theWoozy at the evil creature. "Ozma will look for you in her Magic Pictureyet! You just wait! She'll make a spell that will send you away forgood!"

"Nope, " smiled the Witch. "That's covered. You remember how realisticmy illusionary Emerald City was? Well, I watched and waited for atrusted friend of Ozma's to look into that silly old Magic Picture. ThenI gave it to him. A very beautiful hallucination! He saw me fall into ariver and dissolve completely. So as far as Ozma is concerned, I amdestroyed. She'd have no further need to suspect otherwise, so she willnot seek me out. "

The Woozy was taken aback. But he quickly composed himself and added, "And Glinda will read about you in the Magic Book of Oz!"

"Similarly handled, " grinned the Witch. "Any other bright ideas?"

Another blast of fire issued forth from the Woozy's eyes. The weeds wentup in a towering inferno. 

"Let's get out of here!" said the Woozy to Graham. "Contrary to whatsome people think, I am not made of wood! I have to breathe, and I fearthat this smoke might be as hallucinogenic as the stuff she makes fromthe weeds!"

The two ran away as fast as they could. At such time as they were farenough from the smoke to breathe easy, Graham stopped running. The Woozydid not seem to notice, and he just kept right on going and going andgoing. Graham was alone again. But at least he was out of the terribleWitch's reach. Indeed, the Witch was presently having a most excitingdream about plush animals which could be inflated to the size of a houseand then used as potato-mashers in the thermostat of life which likes tothink about groovy butterflies with red and purple and yellow and violetwhispers in the dark backward uprising theme of the way it really was inthe thunder of the goat farm with lots of yams and a shovelful of finewhite powder that looked like the side of a barn with lots of clocks andfleas with orange earrings in their hazy green and blue and pinkwalking-sticks which were married to some tortilla chips and aboutthirty-five orange and brown cabinet-makers with green feathers and pinkfur. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

JEANNE-MARIE

Graham sat down upon the ground and sighed. He was glad to have escapedfrom the Wicked Witch yet again, but he felt sorry for his companion. Hewondered what that awful old woman might have done to poor Telly. Couldshe have locked him away in a torture chamber someplace? Some terriblewinding maze such as he had just left? It made him feel sick to evenimagine it. He absently sat and drew a picture of Telly in the dirt. "Where are you, Telly?" he asked aloud. He spoke his question into theair, and no answer seemed to be forthcoming. "What has she done to you?I have to know. I miss you, Telly! You are my best friend in thisstrange land. I love you! Where have you been taken?"

"Who is Telly?" came an unfamiliar female voice. Graham turned about tosee who had spoken. He was looking as much into the sun as into the faceof the speaker. It was hard to distinguish her features. But she lookedlike a fine white horse. 

"Hello?" said Graham uncertainly. 

"Hello, " replied the voice. Whoever she was, she sounded gentle andunderstanding. "My name is Jeanne-Marie. Why are you so glum?"

"My friend has been taken prisoner by a bad Witch, " explained the boy, who felt an inexplicable trust for this equine newcomer. "Oh, " shereplied. "I am sorry. I had thought that Queen Ozma had done away withall such vile Witches. "

"Well, " he sighed, "she doesn't know about this one. This wicked oldWitch has created a very clever illusion that has made Ozma unable tosee her or to find out about her. I was fooled, too. I had been underthe impression that Ozma was as wicked as the Witch. But I was wrong. Ifonly I could find Ozma. The real Ozma, not just an illusion that waspassing itself off as the real Ozma. Then I could tell her what wasgoing on. If all that the Woozy told me is true, the real Ozma would beable to make things right again. As it is, I can't help Telly, and I cannever go home to America again, either!"

The horse nestled down beside the boy. Only then did he realize thatthis was no normal horse that was speaking to him. She was differentfrom all horses in all Graham's experience. She was as pure white as thedriven snow, and her mane was a shiny silver. From the top of her headgrew a long, beautiful horn. "Wow!" exclaimed Graham. "Are you a realunicorn?"

"So I've been told, " laughed Jeanne-Marie. "But I am a long way from myhome, just like you are. I left that area because the other unicornsdidn't seem to understand my views on things. They thought I was strangeand that I was not worthy of the name of the unicorns. But I cannot helpwhat I am. I yearn to see all that there is to see of this Land of Oz inwhich I live. And I wanted to find someone who could understand myphilosophies, too. None of the stallions of my breed took me seriously, and I have never once felt true love. At least, not until I metMacDonald Lindsay. "

"Who is that?" wondered Graham. 

"Well, I haven't actually met him in person, " she admitted. "But Ioverheard him talking to his helpers one day. He was telling them aboutthe need for all sentient beings to have a purpose in life. No one canbe fulfilled if he is not in some way making his existence count foranything. He himself is in control of the finest dairy farm in Oz. Hehas vast fields of milkweed that his helpers harvest for him in exchangefor their housing, food, and the occasional game of quoits. "

"That sounds fair, I suppose, " replied Graham, realizing that this groupwas not one which was accustomed to using any form of money. 

"Very much so, " she said. "And the helpers--a unique tribe ofwarthog-like amphibians known as wartfrogs--are highly contented withtheir lot. MacDonald Lindsay allows them to come and go as they please, and he has given each of them a home that is far more luxurious than hisown little lodging. Actually, MacDonald's farm is the only thing he hasthat is luxurious. His personal abode is a simple cleft in a rock thatyou can see from here in that little hill. " She pointed with her horn. 

"I see it, " said Graham. "This MacDonald fellow sounds like a goodenough guy. "

"Oh, he is very good, " said Jeanne-Marie. "But very mysterious. I havenot had any real opportunity to ask him, but I think I could be veryhappy working in his fields alongside the wartfrogs. "

"Have you ever tried to go to him to ask for a job?" questioned Graham. 

"No. But I have been in his fields. Indeed, his milkweed is the best inall the land. It is not just an ordinary dairy-farm product. It isspecial. It is chocolate milkweed, and it is as smooth as Chinese silk. I have been following the wartfrogs and sneaking an occasional taste ofany chocolate milkweed pods that they overlooked. "

"I see, " said Graham. 

"You are welcome to have dinner with me, " said Jeanne-Marie. "I have atleast a half-dozen pods that I am willing to share with you. "

It was at that point that Graham remembered how long it had been sincelast he had eaten. Even then, he was not sure the food had been anythingmore than an illusion conjured up by the Witch. It was not more than asecond before he heard himself accepting the invitation. Indeed, thechocolate milkweed was the most delicious thing Graham had ever tasted. He thanked Jeanne-Marie over and over for sharing this delightful newtaste-treat with him. He and the unicorn talked for a long whileafterward. He was not sure just how long it was, but he awoke the nextmorning feeling quite refreshed. 

The unicorn had already gone on her way. But she had left a note forGraham explaining that she had gone to watch the wartfrogs in MacDonaldLindsay's fields, as was her usual morning activity. The note informedhim that she would seek him out later that afternoon, if he cared tostay in the vicinity, and that she was happy to have met him should hechoose to move on. . . 

[Illustration]

After thinking it over, Graham decided that he was going to need helpif he planned to rescue poor Telly from the false Allidap. Hence, hedecided to wait for Jeanne-Marie. He could spend the day formulating aplan that would allow them to get Telly away from the Witch withoutendangering their own lives. 

MacDonald Lindsay was a fellow who was in high position on his farm, yethe gave all of the finest of his yield to others. He was a man who hadfew needs, only the knowledge that his crops were bringing happiness toothers. That was all he had ever asked. Yet there was something missingin his life. Something upon which he could not place a finger. Yes, indeed MacDonald Lindsay had fingers. Three of them on each hand, infact! He was a powerful and muscular troll, for all intents andpurposes. That is, he was from the waist up. From his waist down, instead of the usual troll waist and legs, however, he had the neck andbody of a mighty black stallion. Anyone born under the astrological signof Sagittarius might recognize him as a relation to the centaur. ButMacDonald Lindsay claimed no such heritage formally. "Lambert, " he said, putting a beefy hand on the shoulder of one of his workers, who happenedto be a foreman among the wartfrogs. 

"Yeah?" asked the amphibian. 

"Who is the little unicorn? The one I see out there in my fields? I haveseen her other times, too. "

"I know no name for her, " sighed the wartfrog. "My boys and I have seenher before, though. She only takes a few pods--and only those extremefew that my boys don't consider worthy of picking or trading in yourname. Those that she takes are all too small or have already been pickedover by the crows. We had once considered making a scarecrow--aninanimate one, of course. Not like the guy who usually comes to mindwhen we think of scarecrows. But that little unicorn seems to get whatshe needs from our leftovers, so no one has bothered to send her on herway. "

"So she only takes that which is rejected from my farm?"replied MacDonald doubtfully. 

[Illustration]

"Well, " began the worker, "please don't be angry with me. There havebeen a couple of occasions that I have taken pity on the poor creatureand left a few better pods for her to find. Please don't get angry, sir!I only did it because I felt sorry for the poor little thing. She lookedso hungry, and we have so much. "

Within minutes, the mighty centaur-like man was looking into the eyes ofthe young unicorn. "I--I'm sorry to intrude on your farm, " she saidtremblingly. 

"Listen, my dear, " he said. "You are welcome in my fields any time youwish to be here. You are welcome to take any milkweed you want or tohelp yourself to any of my other crops. I have asked my wartfrogs toignore you. You no longer need to feel like an intruder. "

"You are very kind, " she replied. "You know that I am not from aroundhere. I am not understood amongst my own kind, so I am something of anoutcast, you might say. "

"Not here, you're not. "

"Thank you, sir!" The unicorn seemed to be near tears. "Thank you somuch!"

When Jeanne-Marie returned to the little clearing where she had leftGraham, she brought him several milkweed pods, as well as a few cookiesshe had picked from the bushes around the base of MacDonald's rock. "Heis very sweet, " she said. "The moment I saw his eyes, I knew that he wasspecial. Graham, do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I don't know, " he said to her. "But I sure do love these cookies!"

And so it went for the next day and the next. By day, Jeanne-Marie wentto the fields, where she grew more and more fond of the odd stallionthere. By night, she plotted with Graham as to how they might go aboutlocating Telly. The problem seemed to be that the Witch could havemagically zapped him off as far away as Santa Monica, California, hadshe wanted to do so. Finding him would not be an easy task. To makematters worse, poor Jeanne-Marie had become a tad too taken withMacDonald Lindsay. The wartfrogs had begun to mistrust her. 

[Illustration]

"She isn't even the same kind of animal!" said Lambert, the wartfrogleader. "She doesn't have any troll features--not even a little aroundthe eyes! They are totally incompatible! She must only be out to get hismilkweed! To think that I once felt sympathy for that wretched littleunicorn! Why, that cunning little crook even has Lindsay entranced somuch that he has begun giving her some of the good stuff! She is nolonger contented with the scraps and rejects of our fields! She has gotto go. But how shall we do it? It will have to be handled in a sneakyenough way so as to keep Lindsay from noticing. He has been placed underthe spell of that little siren, and I know that he would never grant uspermission to shove her away from the area. "

It was the very next day that the wartfrogs made their move. Under thedirection of Lambert, they went about their work, and it was business asusual. Then, when one of the amphibious pigs saw the small unicorn inthe field behind them, Lambert called for a halt. The wartfrogs turnedaround and went back toward Jeanne-Marie. She was not looking in theirdirection, so she did not notice that they were coming toward her untilit was too late to escape. They were already upon her and hurled herunceremoniously into a harvesting-bag. This they tossed onto their cartand carried away. "I will sell her to a zoo in some other land, wherethey are not so kind to thieving horse-creatures!" giggled Lambert, showing his teeth. "Now we can get rid of this little troublemaker onceand for all! Old Mickey-D will never know what became of his dear littlecharity-case!"

Indeed, it would have been curtains for poor Jeanne-Marie had not Grahamhad a sudden inspiration which he wanted to tell her about right away. He felt certain that he had formulated a plan by which they would beable to save Telly from the Witch, and he had run into the milkweedfields to find her. He had seen the terrible wartfrogs capture her andhad even overheard what they planned to do to her. "I can't let them doit!" he whispered angrily. "Why, this is the second time I've made afriend in Oz who has met with foul play!" He would have cried, had hissadness not been so highly overcompensated for by his anger. His firstinstinct was to run to her and try to fight for her freedom. But he wasa wise enough boy to know full well that this would be folly. He was nomore than one little boy against a whole farm's worth of strong andmuscular laborers. If he were to pick a fight with this bunch, he wouldbe sold alongside his friend. No, he would need another plan of rescue. But he had already come up with one such plan. Now he could give it atest-run. However, he knew that he could not hope to carry it out all byhimself. No, he would have to have help. And Graham knew from whencethat help must come. With a swallow of anxiety, he headed for the homeof the ranchero. 

MacDonald Lindsay was as amiable a fellow as the unicorn had said. Thisfact instantly put Graham's anxiety to rest. "Do come in, my friend, "said the ranchero. "What can I do to make you happy?"

[Illustration]

"It's about Jeanne-Marie, " said Graham. 

"That poor little waif of a unicorn?" replied the troll-horse. 

"That very one, " said Graham. "Your workers have taken her prisoner, andthey plan to sell her to a zoo or a circus or something like that. "

The troll creature looked at Graham and frowned. Then he began to laugh. "Ha ha!" he said. "You take me for a complete and utter idiot! No, youcannot be telling me the truth. My boys are under orders to let thelovely little waif alone. They would not do such a cruel or vile thingto anyone, I assure you. "

"But I was there, sir, " pleaded Graham. "I saw it all with my own twoeyes! They put Jeanne-Marie into a great big grain-bag and hid her on acart that they carried along behind them. The big fat one said he wasgoing to sell her to a zoo! I heard him say so! He said, 'Old Mickey-Dwill never know what became of his little charity-case!'" As he quotedthe line, he did his best to imitate the wartfrog's voice. "Please, Mr. Lindsay, you just have to believe me! I'm telling you the truth!"

"Now, now, " answered the troll voice, which was sounding less patientthan before. "I know better. No one on my staff would ever do such athing . . . And no one on my staff would ever . . . Wait a minute. Did yousay 'Old Mickey-D?' My, my. Only Foreman Lambert ever called me by thatannoying name. And no one but he would have the audacity to. . . . " Hisheart pounded so loudly that Graham could hear it from across the room. Then the troll-horse let out a couple of loud exclamations. "MercifulFrances of Grand Rapids, Minnesota!" he bellowed. "Judy in the sky! Whata fool I have been to overlook it! Lambert has been trying to hide itfrom me, but he has been showing signs of resentment against thatunicorn! I should have seen this coming. But you have opened my eyes, myboy. I have strived--er, striven? Er, I have always made it my strivencein these fields to ensure that every visiting child and familysuccessfully explores his own particular creative abilities. I had seenso many fine qualities of leadership in Foreman Lambert that I closed myeyes to his darker side. But I can no longer look the other way. It maynot be kosher, but I am going to have to fight against my own right-handman. "

The ranchero started angrily for the door. 

"Wait!" shouted Graham, taking on the role of the calm and collected boywith a plan. 

"Wait for what?" asked Lindsay. "I'll wait for nothing until I see thatlousy Lambert get his just rewards!"

"He will, " spoke the boy. "Yes. But not that way!"

"What . . . "

"If you try to fight all of those thugs at once, you'll just beoutnumbered. I have a better idea. I know of a way to save Jeanne-Mariewithout anyone getting hurt. "

"Then spill it, my boy! What is this plan?"

Foreman Lambert took the rest of the day off. He carefully researchedthe best place to sell a captured unicorn. He planned to get enoughwealth to buy the entire farm and spend the rest of his days sippingstrawberry daiquiris and conversing with MacDonald Lindsay about thejoys of being affluent. As he sat and pored over the pages of _TheEncyclopedia of Places Where Unicorns Can be Successfully Sold on theBlack Market With No Questions Asked Except When the Salesman Happens tobe a Mangaboo: Vol. 224_, he heard a peculiar clattering noise outside. Fearing it might affect his own happiness in some way, Lambert ranoutside to see what was the matter. The sight that met his eyes washardly what he would have expected. There before him was a huge Oxtethered to a wagon. One wheel had fallen from the wagon, and thewagonmaster was jumping up and down, shouting angry expletives at theox. "You filthy pile of oxtail soup!" shouted the young man. "You are asable to locate the proper roads as Dorothy was in _The Road to Oz_! Nowjust look what your lack of brains has caused us! You dragged us off theroad, and now we have another busted wheel to bother about! You are justa lousy old coot!"

"Now, now, " said Lambert. "You needn't speak so unkindly to this fineanimal. I'll be happy to take him off your hands if he's such a . . . Acoot, I think you said?"

"Yeah!" begged the ox. "Let him have me! I can work on this big farm!"

"Not a cotton-picking chance!" blurted the human. "I need a work-horseto pull this wagon. If I had another animal, maybe a horse or a pony, I'd gladly unload your crummy old worthless hide in a heartbeat! Butsuch beasts are sure to be expensive in these parts, especially to astranger like me. And all I have are these forty-eight diamonds, a bagof square emeralds, and a couple of rubies to spare. "

Lambert lit up and became more alert than he had ever been before. Standing straight up and trying to look as businesslike as a wartfrogcan possibly look, he said, "That is the exact price I planned to askfor a very pretty unicorn that I have recently acquired by perfectlylegitimate means. "

"Are there any other kind?" asked the stranger with a sly wink. 

"Of course not. " He ran inside to the closet and grabbed the bag withJeanne-Marie inside. Coming back to his customer, he handed it over andgreedily grabbed the precious gemstones. "Thank you, oh thank you!" hesquealed gleefully. "And can I get that ox, too?"

"You can get me, all right, " said the ox. "But I'm not sure you wantwhat comes with me. " Stepping toward the wartfrog and ramming his faceagainst one of Lambert's tough tusks (which, consequently, broke off andfell to the ground), he broke off what became obviously a papier machémask. Beneath it, he was actually the owner of the whole ranch, MacDonald Lindsay. 

"Oh oh. . . . " gasped Lambert. "Er, hi, master. I knew it was you allalong. That is why I went along with your silly little game. Had it beenanyone but you, I'd not have left my work for a moment to play such agame. But no harm done, right? Here, take these little gemstones away. Idon't really need them. All part of the game, though, you know. Well, Ido have work to do now . . . Toodle-oo!"

"LAMBERT!" roared the troll in a voice that would have shamed thekingliest of lions. "You have no work to do here. "

"Oh, but I do, " said Lambert. "I must take this darling unicorn back towhere she belongs. Oh, yes, yes! Please do not hinder us. I must get heraway from here, where she is such a lovely distraction. Yeah, that'sexactly the problem, my master. Gotta get her home now. Later!"

The troll placed a powerful and majestic hoof on one of Lambert'sflippers. "Excuse me, " he said. "But I told you that you have no furtherwork to do here. Please pick up your toys and get off of my ranch. Andtake your disobedient helpers with you. Also, you may have as manymilkweed pods as you can carry. I'll never let it be said that I amheartless. "

"But, master!" stammered Lambert. "You can't do this! You mustn't! We'vecome such a long way already! I was up for a raise next year!"

"I'll raise a few things for you if you aren't out of my sight beforenightfall. " Lindsay was suddenly calm. "And if I ever see you aroundthis innocent waif again, I will . . . Well, I don't rightly know whatI'll do. But you can rest assured that it won't be very much fun foreither of us. "

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

CAN'T STAND IN THE WAY OF LOVE

"Well, now!" cackled the Witch. "You thought you'd seen the last of ol'Allidap, did you? You were so wrong! Ha ha ha! Now I have you in myclutches once more, and you won't be escaping from me again, I can tellyou! To think, you tried to trick me with a photo of some televisionstar. But you won't be able to fool me again quite so easily, my littlebasket of nuts and bolts!"

The evil woman had chained Telly to a large black platform and wasstanding over him in a most menacing manner. "You showed me a picture ofsomebody else to make me think I was a ravishing beauty. You lied to me, you electronic hunk of junk!"

Telly struggled to free himself of his chains, but they proved to be toostrong for him. Giving in, he stopped struggling and tuned in to an oldrerun of _Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color. _

"Let me see now, " muttered the false Allidap. "I must think this over. Ihave to do something appropriate to punish you for your deceptive ways. Maybe I should turn you into a candy cane and gobble you up?" Shescratched her chin. "No, that would be much too kind. I must think of apunishment that is more fitting to a ROTTEN, MEAN LIAR such as youhappen to be. Hmmm. Maybe I could transform you into a little brown warton the left foot of a slimy old toad? Or a bucket of rotten peas? Butthat still seems hardly enough punishment for a creepy little crawlerlike you. Oooh! Of all the disgusting luck! If I had only beenmanifested with the ability to read! Then I could find a perfectlylovely little spell to cast on you that would satisfy my need to punishyou!" She stalked to a nearby shelf which was covered with variousbottles of herbs and tinctures. Each of these had a faded yellowinglabel, but none of these labels did her any good. It became clear to herthat the inability to read was indeed a great setback. As she ponderedan appropriate course of action, she heard a rustling sound outside. "What is that annoying noise?" she spat. "Maybe your little pal Grahamhas come to let me capture him as well? I will make short work of him, let me tell you! He was a fool to come here!" She stepped lively to thedoor and stamped her way outside. "Okay, little boy!" she called. "Iknow that you are out here someplace! Come on out of hiding. Trying totrick me will only make it worse on yourself. Come to me quietly, andlet us get this messy ordeal over with quickly. Being that you are sofond of reading Oz books, I think I will turn you into a copy of_Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz_. Then, as a book does me no good, I willtoss you into my fireplace and watch you burn!"

There was no reply. 

"I see, " sighed the Witch. "So you want to make things difficult, doyou? Well, I am willing to go along with your silly little game ofhide-and-go-seek. But just remember, my fine and dandy little gentleman, that once I do find you, I will not be so lenient on your crummy hidinglittle hide!" As she searched the scraggly brush that surrounded herhome, she grew more and more agitated. "You may be a pretty good hider, "she bellowed. "But I'll get you in the end, you just wait and see!" Shesearched for a solid half hour before she decided that Graham was not tobe found. "The little fruitcake must have run off in fear and horror, "she determined. "Well, I will concern myself with his punishment someother time. Right now, I have the television set to attend to. I willmiss my soaps, but I think it's high time I put that nasty old creep inhis proper place. I think I'll make him into a nice bowl of lumpyspider-flavored oatmeal and have him for a snack. " So saying, shesauntered back into her home. Once inside, she was met with a sight thatmade her more angry than ever. There, on either side of the platformwhich held Telly captive, were the two huge jungle-cats. The CowardlyLion was trying in vain to unshackle Telly's chains. The Hungry Tiger, who had been standing guard, saw the enemy and instantly prepared tospring on her. "You'd better leave us alone, you yucky old Witch!"growled the Tiger threateningly. "We are taking Telly to the realEmerald City to meet the real Queen Ozma. Once Ozma hears what you'vebeen up to, she'll transport you to some place where you can never causeour beloved Land of Oz any further grief!"

"Is that so?" chuckled the Witch, quickly regaining her bearings. "I'dlike to see the stumbling, demented child queen try that! Maybe I shouldturn her into a toadstool to show you that I am the all-powerful onehere. Your foolish little girl is no queen! She's just a flimsy excusefor a bad one-liner. In fact, you know what I'm going to do to her? Ithink I should enjoy making her into a little sugar cube and drinkingher in my tea. But first, I think I should take care of you little kittycats. I have heard a story about a little brat named Sambo who made sometigers into butter. I think this tawny scrawny beast would be a finespread for my toast. Yes, I think that should be quite delicious. Andthe little lion could become the toast! How delightful it would be toeat the two of you together!"

The Lion was visibly shaken by this idea. "I d-d-don't want to bet-t-toast!" he bellowed fearfully. 

"And I will not become a pat of butter, either, " added the Tiger, quickly springing on the antagonist and knocking her over. 

The Witch struggled for a few minutes and finally freed herself, only tobe knocked over a second time by the Lion, who had summoned up a fewgrams of courage in just the nick of time. "You pestery creatures!" sheblurted. "You filthy rotten haggard beasts of bumbling stumblingstupidity! I will see you both destroyed and I'll laugh about it, yourotten dirty crummy hateful old things!" Summoning in her rage astrength she had never before known, she hurled the Lion on top of theTiger. Then, grabbing a huge net, she threw it over the two of thembefore they had any time to move out of the way. "Now I have you all, mydearies! All three of that foolish kid's friendies! And I'll see you allinto your demises right now!" the Witch said in a whisper. She was aboutto carry out this threat when there was a knock on the door. "Oh, dratit all!" said the Witch. "Who could that be? If it's your sillyScram-Graham, I'll allow him the honor of watching me destroy all of therest of you!" She went to the door. There, she saw a strange creaturelooking at her and wearing a painted smile on his face. "What thedickens are you?" she said. "You look a little bit like a troll, but youhave a horse's body growing out of your waist. "

"I am a sort of horse-troll, " he replied. "But that is not importantright now. What is important is that this may be your lucky day!"

"My lucky what?" asked the Witch, not quite understanding. 

"Is this the home of Bastinda Slinky Myrna Evillene Allidap?" asked thestranger. 

"Er . . . I guess so, " replied the Witch. 

"Splendid!" replied the ranchero. "And would you happen to be BastindaSlinky Myrna Evillene Allidap?"

"I think so, " she said, not sure she remembered all of those names thatwere being applied to her. 

"Delightful!" said the stranger. "Then I am here, Ms. Allidap, to tellyou that today is the luckiest day of your life!"

"Is it?"

"Indeed so! Ms. Allidap, you were selected out of the five hundredbillion applicants to receive a prize of twenty-seven million dollarsand thirteen cents! And, since you were home when I arrived, you may beeligible for more prizes!" He turned around and whistled through histeeth. "Oh, boys! She's here. Bring in the cameras. " A small, horse-likecreature and a young man with a television camera in place of a headcame running up. "Oh, good. You're here. Mr. Camerahead, let's get somegood footage of our lucky winner in her home. Let's go inside. It willlook more natural if our winner is in a comfortable place on her sofa. "

"But . . . " began the Witch. "But . . . I didn't even know there was a TVstation in Oz. "

"Well, of course there is, " said the horse. "Where else would Ozitesturn to see their favorite Rankin-Bass Oz cartoon episodes?We are broadcasting from the peak of Some Summit. Now, come on, let'sbe lively about this. We haven't got all day. We have a commercial toshoot for _The Ozmapolitan_ newspaper at ten after three. "

[Illustration]

"Why don't you stand here in front of your television set?" suggestedthe camera man. "But we'll have to unchain it from this thing here. Thiswon'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 metalclippers, 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 thisall goes well, you may be eligible for an all expense paid trip to WaltDisney 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 anyadvice 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 eatit than butt it. But to each his own. I think we need some extra colorin this place. It looks too gloomy. " She picked up a bucket (which hadbeen carried in by the centaur) in her teeth and began to splash somerainbow-colored paint all about the room, some of which went directlyinto the Witch's eyes. Allidap tried to cry out in rage, but she onlygot 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 thatused 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 thatbeautiful smile. "

"Yes, " added the centaur. "And hop up and down screaming, 'I won! Iwon!' if you think you can handle it. "

The Witch was having trouble following all of this--especially with thepaint 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 herbest to do as they asked. When they seemed satisfied with their TVfootage, 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 hismask. Of course, as you may have already guessed, it was actually Grahamin disguise. And with him were MacDonald Lindsay and Jeanne-Marie. Theplan had worked, and they had rescued not only Telly, but also theCowardly 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 puther on television. I wouldn't have actually wanted to televise an imageof 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. "TheWitch will eventually be out hunting me down again. "

"A good thought, " agreed the Hungry Tiger. "We shall go and find herstraightaway. "

The centaur looked solemn. "I would so love to meet our dear ruler, " hesaid. "But I fear I may be in for a rude visit from those wartfrogs, andI think I should be there when it comes to pass. However, I will joinyou in the Emerald City as soon as I have sent the wartfrogs away forgood. I will be sorry to be apart from this dear unicorn, however. Wehave been talking, and we agree that we belong together. I will beanxiously looking forward to seeing her again very soon. "

"No, " replied Jeanne-Marie. "I shall come back to the farm and help youto rid yourself of those former employees of yours. Then we shall traveltogether to the Emerald City. "

This was a sad parting for all, after all of the adventures they hadshared together. But it was as it had to be. So they all said theirgood-byes and parted, and the two equine-type creatures headed in onedirection 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 treespartially camouflaged a quaint little cottage. By this time Graham wasfeeling quite thirsty and thought it would be a good idea to knock onthe cottage door and see if he could obtain a nice drink of water. Thecottage was surrounded by a garden full of flowers and a white picketfence, and it was all so pretty it could have come right out of a fairytale. Graham knew full well that no evil person could possibly reside insuch a picturesque place, so he boldly opened the gate and walked alongthe little winding path to the front door, where he knocked loudly. 

A minute went by with no response, whereupon Graham knocked again, butthis time quite a bit louder. 

"Why don't you just knock my door down?" said a voice behind him. Grahamabout jumped out of his skin as he spun around to see a very kindly ladywith a twinkle in her eyes approaching from the back of the house. "Iwas pruning my roses in the back garden, " she continued, "when I heardwhat I thought must be a very rude person banging on my front door. Igather you must be here on a very urgent matter. "

"Well . . . Not exactly, " Graham said rather sheepishly. "I was feelingvery thirsty and thought that perhaps I might be able to obtain a drinkof water"

"Hmmm, I think that can be arranged, " replied the lady. "And what aboutyour friends?" she asked, looking rather curiously at Telly and a littlenervously at the Lion and Tiger. 

"Oh, Telly here is an electrical-mechanical person and is not verypartial 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 ableto 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 sheobliged by spraying some glass cleaning liquid on Telly's screen andwiping it with a dry cloth. "Ouch! That stuff stings my eyes!" Tellyprotested loudly. But he was happy that all of the dust had been removedfrom his screen. 

"How about the lion and tiger?" asked the lady. "Would they like adrink? They don't bite, do they?" Without waiting for an answer, thelady led them to the back of the house, where a well was located. Shehauled up a bucket of ice-cold, crystal clear water, which Graham took along drink of from a ladle which she handed to him. The Lion and Tigersaid they were not thirsty, but the Tiger asked politely if there wereany fat babies residing with her. Graham coughed and choked as the waterwent down the wrong way. Fortunately, the noise drowned out the Tiger'squestion, and the lady did not hear him . . . 

With his thirst more than satisfied, Graham proceeded to introducehimself and did his best to explain his current situation and Telly'sunique abilities. The lady replied that her name was Doré and that shewas both an artist and a storyteller. She then went into the house andbrought out several unique pen and ink drawings, as well as somebeautiful watercolors, which everyone greatly admired. She lookedintently at the Hungry Tiger and said he was a magnificent animal andthat she would like to sketch him. The Tiger could not resist smirkingat the Lion, who just rolled his eyes. 

"Now, " continued Doré as she sketched away, "I'll tell you one of mystories if you like. "

Graham and his friends nodded vigorously. After all, they all loved tohear stories. Everyone sat down on the soft velvety grass by the well asDoré proceeded to tell the story. She had no sooner started when lots oflittle animals appeared as if from nowhere and gathered around tolisten. They somehow knew that there was nothing to fear from the Lionor the Tiger. 

"The title of my story, " said Doré, "is 'Helen's Smile. ' I hope you likeit:

Today was a special day. Not only because the sun was shining, butbecause 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 daythroughout winter, summer, fall, and (his favorite time of the year)spring. 

He was a people-watcher all right. No question about that. And almosteveryone 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 whowent in early. You could tell a lot about people by the schedules theykept. This was a particularly beautiful day. Fall nipped the air, and itfelt crisp to the skin. The leaves were just hinting at the change incolors. He liked this time of the year almost as much as he likedspring. 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 hisblood surge through his body. Food seemed to taste better, and the airsmelted 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 hewas only twenty-seven years old. He had never really lived in the usualsense of the word, but he was wise beyond his years. People always wavedand said "Hi" to him, but few approached him. They knew he was ahandicapped person because he was always in his wheelchair, and youwould think people would want to chat and be cheerful around him so hewould 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, whoalways carried a cloak of guilt about her. His eyes were set very farapart 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 loudcroaking sounds. They never knew the pain it caused him. A few children, however, were far more sensitive and loving and would wave and smile andsometimes 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 hadforgotten 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. Hisshriveled body was even sadder to observe. This day, Clive sat andwatched Helen pass by. He thought she had to be the most beautifulperson in the world. Surely a prettier girl could not exist. He watchedher intently, as he had done for the past six years. She walked by anddid not look his way, as usual. She always knew he was there. She hadsneaked a peak at him once and was so repulsed that she could not bringherself to look again. Yet she knew how he felt about her. She couldfeel it as she walked by. At first she felt afraid passing by. She eventried taking a different route to the station. But after a while shefelt silly. So she passed his house with her head held high and her eyesstraight ahead. 

As the years passed, she found out about the "cripple" who sat on hisporch all day. It was a sad story: Apparently, the father couldn't copewith a deformed baby, so he deserted the family. The mother was a simplecountry-girl. She was forced to take in wash and to clean other people'shouses. But she managed to support herself and her deformed child. Shewas a quiet woman who minded her own business. She rarely spoke. But shecould polish silver and furniture like no other person and so she hadplenty of work. In time, she was able to afford her own house. They hadlived in that house on Mulberry Street for twenty years. It was alwaysclean and neat. On rare occasions, Helen saw the mother shopping. Themother was so thin and gaunt. How did she manage to lift that son ofhers?

As Helen passed the house that bright fall morning, she wondered if theman could stand up or walk. "Helen! Helen! You look so pretty today!"The young woman stopped dead in her tracks. Who spoke? She looked aroundher. No one that she could see was there--except the person on theporch. Was it him? No . . . It couldn't be. She had heard that he knew howto speak, but that he was very difficult to understand. But this voicewas pleasant and articulate. Very masculine, too. _Is someone hidingbehind a bush? No. I'm being silly_, she thought. _I must have imaginedit. _ She looked around one more time, yet carefully avoiding looking atthe 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 talkto you. It has taken me years. Can't you turn around just this once andsmile at me? It won't hurt you. You are so lovely, more lovely than eventhe moon, the stars, and all the flowers in the world. Today I am goingto die. Yes! Really! I am so happy. It is such a special day. I knew Iwas going to die three days ago, and I prayed to God that, before Idied, I could just see Helen smile. He gave me the 'gift' of speakinginto your mind for just this one special day. And He promised that Icould speak articulately if what I said came from the heart. I know youcan hear me. Please. I love you so much . . . Won't you turn and smile atme? Just this once?"

Helen stood rooted to the spot. She knew she was experiencing somethingabnormal. 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 yourhead, and I know I'm hearing it! Oh, God! Dare I do it? Can I look athim? He's so ugly--so unbearably ugly! But how sad. It was a beautifulthing he said to me. What if I do smile? Will he expect me to smileevery day? No! I can't do that. Next he'll ask me to come up to theporch and chat. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't!_ Yet her heart went outto him. _What loneliness he must feel. I'll smile just this once, andthen tomorrow I'll take the other route_. She gathered all her willpowerand slowly turned around, smiling. At that moment she could feel atremendous surge of love radiate towards her and envelope her entirebeing. The sun was shining so brightly that it momentarily blinded her, so she really couldn't see his face, but nevertheless she kept smilingfor 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 wasconvinced that she had only imagined the voice. Yet she could not bringherself to walk down his street again. It was another glorious day. Helen had the day off and was going shopping. She was standing at thecheckout counter when she felt a light touch on her arm. She turned anddrew 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 theporch as usual when he called out to me and told me you had smiled athim. 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. Itwas a blessing. He did not believe that death was the end. He believedthat 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 hewill meet you again and it will be a different story. Your smile madehis life worthwhile, and he died a very, very happy man. "

Helen felt a sadness creeping over her. _It was only a smile_, shethought. _Now I am sorry I didn't smile before. It was such a littlething for me to give. But from now on I will smile more often. I'll doit for him_. "Thank you for telling me, " she said aloud. "Your son musthave been a good man in his heart. If there is anything I can do, pleaselet me know. " They both smiled at each other, for each knew that she hadfound a new friend. 

The End"

"What a lovely story, " Graham said. "Don't you think so, Telly?" heasked, turning to his friend. But Telly was crying like a baby. Tearswere flowing in gushes down his screen and splashing off his metallicboots. 

Doré produced a wad of tissues and dried his eyes. "You're likely to geta short circuit, " she said. "By the way, I'd be delighted to have youjoin me for supper before you continue on your journey. " With that, everyone went inside, with Telly asking question after question. Aftersupper, everyone went out to the porch to talk. Graham sat on one ofthose swinging seats and became lost in thought as he swung gently backand forth. "Penny for your thoughts?" said Doré, sensing that the boywas a little sad. 

"Oh, I was just wondering if I will ever find a way to get home. I thinkOz is a very interesting place, with lots of incredibly wonderful people(except for that old Witch), but I am getting very homesick, and I missmy family terribly. Not only that, but they are probably worried sickand have probably called the police about their missing child. "

"Well, " replied Doré, "you just happen to be in the right place . . . Yousee that old well where you quenched your thirst? Well, it's a wishingwell. A real, true wishing well. And if you throw in a coin and make asincere unselfish wish, your wish will come true instantly. Of course, you only get one guaranteed wish, but if you make a second wish, youhave an eighty percent chance of that coming true, also. "

Graham immediately perked up as Doré's words sank in. Then he becamecrestfallen as his eyes fell upon Telly's forlorn face, not to mentionthe disappointment reflected in the faces of the Cowardly Lion and theHungry Tiger. He had made a wonderful new friend in Telly and was justgetting to know the others, and now they were going to beseparated--perhaps forever. 

Doré, quickly realizing what the situation was, offered her condolencesbut assured Graham that if he were to make that second wish with greatsincerity, 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 bighug. He then threw a penny into the well as he made his two wishes. "Iwish to go back home, " and "I wish to come back to Oz someday for avisit. " Then, as he waved goodbye to everyone, he slowly becameinvisible, only to reappear for a second, then slowly disappear again. This happened two or three times as Doré explained to Telly that themagic was working all right but that Graham's mixed feelings on thematter were delaying the final teleportation. Just then, there was alarge black shadow overhead and a sudden WHOOSH! as a projectile whizzedpast Graham's head. Back and forth it went, to reveal none other thanthe Wicked Witch on her broomstick, grabbing for Graham as she passedhim. 

"SO, LITTLE MAN. THOUGHT YOU'D ESCAPE FROM ME, EH? I DON'T THINK SO, MYFINE FEATHERED FRIEND!" She wailed like a banshee as she finally grabbedhim by the shoulder and shook him as he desperately tried to escape. Inthe distance Graham fancied he could hear his mother's voice callinghim. 

"Graham! Graham!" His eyes--which had been shut tightly as the Witchshook him--opened to see with great surprise his mother's face as shealso 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 havingserious words with you in the morning, young man. Now, up to your roomimmediately!"

Graham had not been expecting to come home to such a tongue-lashing, buthe was very happy to finally be back home after so many harrowingexperiences. Ever since he had first been abducted to Oz, he hadconsidered it his mission to get home again. The wishing well had madeit possible. 

But as Graham turned out the light beside his bed that night and laidhis head against his pillow, he began to think over the events that hehad experienced in Oz. Of course he had wanted to get home to hisfamily. It only made sense that he would. He was only twelve and heneeded them. Not only that, but they would be worried sick. He had madea sensible wish. Or had he? As he lay on his bed, it occurred to him thathe 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 pennyto desert his friends when they needed him most? He realized then what aselfish act that had been. _Not entirely selfish_, he thought. _I wasthinking of my family as much as myself_. But he knew that he was makingexcuses and that he should have wished more wisely. As he slowly driftedoff into a troubled sleep, he saw images of the Cowardly Lion, theHungry Tiger, Telly, Jeanne-Marie, MacDonald Lindsay, Doré, and manyother Oz folk pass before his eyes. 

[Illustration]

The following day, Graham's mother was sorting the boy's dirty clothesfor the wash when she noticed an ink stain on his shirt pocket. Shechecked the pocket and found a piece of paper with some kind of smudgeddrawing and words below the sketch that she could not make out withouther reading glasses. It looked like, something . . . Speare. Without athought, she crumpled it up into a ball and threw it in the trash. 

TO BE CONTINUED . . .