Blast From The Past

913 words

She could have sworn someone had knocked on the door, but when she opened it no one seemed to be there. She was about to close it and return to her coffee when a squeaky little voice said, “Down here, Miss Gale.”

She looked and saw the bedraggled weary flying monkey on the step, looking forlorn, with its crumpled fez in its hands. “You are Miss Dorothy Gale, aren’t you?”

She stepped back in some trepidation. “Mrs Newess now, but I was called Gale before my marriage and widowing.”

The monkey sensed her trepidation. “I mean you no harm. I no longer serve the witches, no bat-winged monkey does. We were made redundant when they started using drones instead. They don’t have to feed a drone.”

Dorothy sighed. “Oh, you poor thing. Come in, out of the rain, and have some coffee.”

“Thank you Miss …. Er, Mrs.”

“Just call me Dorothy.”

“As you wish. It was very hard to find you. I thought you’d still be on your old family farm.”

“No, as you can see, I’m not in Kansas any more. Welcome to Wisconsin.”

She passed the simian a tea-towel to dry himself with and put the kettle on. Her arthritis was forgotten in the unexpected opportunity to be the perfect hostess to her unexpected guest. “What brings you this side of the Rainbow, Mr…”

“Erasbos,” the monkey said, with a little bow. “I wanted to ask you if you might care to return to The Emerald City to help put things right since the New Wizards of Spin moved in and took over.”

“The Wizards Of Spin?”

“Yes, the paths to Oz have been found and your people now pour in on us in droves. We are a major tourist attraction, but everything is getting spoilt. There are Starbucks and Macdonalds on every corner. Traders are selling gingham clothing, and pieces of straw from the one true Scarecrow. There’s no Emerald any more, just rose tinted glasses. Apparently, it’s the same in Narnia, Shangri La, Atlantis and Hobbiton, among others places. Oz isn’t the same since they twinned-towned it to Mammon. Remember the Yellow Brick Road? Now every road is yellow. The visitors expect it.”

“Oh my, it sounds simply dreadful,” Dorothy lamented. “I don’t see how I can help though. As you can see, I am much older now than I was last time the tornado took me to your realm.”
“I see that,” Erasbos said. “I’m so sorry. “ He saw the lady was now in jeans and a big thick white woolen jumper. He felt so dumb for expecting her to still look the same over eighty years on. “I take it poor Toto is no longer with us?” he said.

“Long gone, yes. I have no pets now. I can barely look after myself any more, let alone care for an animal. What of my old friends and fellow adventurers? Are they still alive?”
“Tin Man rusted up years ago and they scrapped him when the neo-droids were rolled off the 3D printers. Scarecrow was set ablaze when we had our first Burning Man Festival.”
“And Lion?”

“His fate was the saddest of all. His new-found courage medal made other lions want to fight him and make him prove it all the time, and he fought well until age made him punch drunk and he died in the ring.”

“Simply dreadful. What about Glinda? Surely she has enough magic to fix things?”
“She tried, but she was a witch, so she was as vulnerable to the effects of water as the Wicked Witch you dispatched. She started waving her wand round to turn the department stores back into emerald minarets when they turned the hoses on her. The Munchkins rioted in anger over it and most of them were shot, or imprisoned. The few survivors are currently displayed in carnival freak shows.“

Dorothy wept. “I don’t know what I can say. My people have ruined your wonderful world just as they are destroying ours. I’m powerless to do anything to save either.”

I see that, Erasbos agreed. “I’m sorry I came ahead of the storm to call on your aid. All I have achieved is to break your heart as well as my own.”

Dorothy’s eyes lit up. “The storm. How severe is it?”

“Extremely intense. I was thrown forward more than I flew. It will get worse before it gets better.”

“Is it a hurricane or tornadoes?” Dorothy said, with a strange, mad hope in her eyes.”

“A mixture of both. I guess it’s an effect of your global warming. It is not the typical season for such inclement weather.”

Dorothy laughed. “Let me get my old Ruby slippers on, and we’ll go out together.”

“Where to? Oz?”

“Wherever the winds take us. Hopefully a new land and new dreams. There’s no hope for my World, or yours or either of our lives.”

“But we might just be dashed to pieces by the vortex.”

“I thought that once, but I ended up in Munchkinland. Frankly, even if we end up in Heaven or Hell it’ll be better than growing old in the ruins of the places we knew. Are you up for it?”

Erasbos nodded, and once her old shoes were on, he clutched her hands and they stepped into the swirling spirals.

“There’s no place like Home, thank God,” Dorothy shouted as the storm carried them into the unknown. There’s no place like Home …”

Arthur Chappell