Dorothys Mystical Adventures in Oz | Page 3

Perhaps people like her were mean because no one loved them. If
that were true, their bitter attitude only made matters worse. Well, thank goodness the
witch was dead. It seemed wrong to wish someone dead, but the Land of Oz was well rid
of her for she had brought fear and misery to everyone who came into contact with her.
The little Munchkins were no longer afraid now that she was gone, and could enjoy a
peaceful life once more.
"Even outside of Oz," thought Dorothy, "there are certain leaders who keep their people
in fear." She wondered how they had behaved when they were children.
She began to think of her friends again. She could not help but wonder how they were
and what they were doing right now.
She thought of Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. How /could/ they disbelieve her story? It
made her sad to think that no one believed her. It couldn't have all been a dream -- of that
she was sure. Everything was so real and vivid in Oz. All the events that occurred there
couldn't have been her imagination. Why, even the colors of the flowers were ten times
more intense than in Kansas. The flowers in her garden -- pretty as they were -- couldn't
compare. They seemed faded in comparison. In fact, Kansas seemed faded in
comparison.
A strange thought suddenly occurred to her: What if Oz was the real world, and Kansas
but a shadowy dream world? Oz her real home and Kansas just a place she was somehow
visiting in her dreams...? No, that couldn't be. Aunt Em and Uncle Henry and the others
were all a very real part of her life. But then, the Scarecrow, Tin Woodman and Lion
were all a part of her life, too. And so were the Munchkins, the Good Witch of the North,
and Glinda -- even the Wicked Witch of the West. They were all as real as anyone

in Kansas.
A feeling of utter confusion came over her. "Oh no, what if I can't distinguish between
the real and the unreal?"
*

Chapter Three
:
Dorothy Returns to Oz
*
Dorothy's head began to throb. She wondered if the injury that she suffered during the
tornado had caused some permanent damage. A feeling of extreme dizziness came over
her. She walked over to her bed and lay down again.
As she lay back, the room began to spin. Had she been standing she was sure she would
have fallen. She imagined she could hear a voice inside her head telling her she must
return to Oz. Suddenly it appeared that the floor gave way as she felt herself falling ...
falling ... twisting and turning over and over as she fell. She began spinning around very
fast. Her body felt like it was being torn apart. "Oh, no!" she cried. "What is happening to
me? Please! Someone! Help me!"
The thought raced through her mind that she was being sucked into a huge vortex by a
great evil force. A tremendous fear filled her heart. She visualized the leering faces of a
hundred wicked witches swirling around her. The faces were cackling with loud screams
of hideous laughter. A hundred pairs of ugly hands with long bony fingers clutched at her
as she fell.
"Now we've got you!" screamed the witches in unison. "You'll never get. away from us
this time, little Goody-Two-Shoes!"
"Help me, someone. Please help!" Dorothy cried.
As she called out for help, the witches' images began to fade; the screaming to diminish.
In their place a shining metallic substance appeared. It spun around her so fast it seemed
like a solid sheet of metal. Whatever it was, it appeared to slow her fall.
Gradually, the spinning object slowed. As it did, her image was reflected each time it
passed in front of her. Suddenly she saw two dangling arms and legs attached to the
spinning form, and a shiny face grinning at her.
"Nick Chopper!" she cried, recognizing the Tin Woodman and lunging toward him with

her arms outstretched.
CLUNK! There was a dull thud as the soft material of her body made contact with the
woodman's metal body. They both fell the last few feet to the ground, laughing
uproariously.
"You know," Dorothy said, when their laughter subsided, "before I realized who you
were, I kept seeing my face reflected as you spun by me. It is reflected now on your chest,
right where your heart is."
"Oh, Dorothy!" said the Tin Woodman, starting to cry. "I'm so happy to see you."
"Now don't you cry," said Dorothy, wiping his eyes with her handkerchief, "you'll rust up
again."
"It's wonderful to have a heart," the Tin Woodman said, "and to have all the feelings