Friday, November 30, 2007
Under the Rainbow
Dear Auntie Em,
It’s been eight long months since the tornado picked up me and the farmhouse and swept us out of Kansas.
I hope you and uncle Henry still aren’t living in the root cellar, and have since found a new place to live. I haven't seen the farmhouse in awhile.
I just wanted to let you know that I got home late that day because I’d met a very important-looking man named Professor Marvel on the way home from school. He claimed to be able to see the future. Then he gazed into a crystal ball and told me that certain things were inevitable. That didn’t seem right to me, so I got out of there as fast as I could.
I ran home, but once I got there, the tornado was in full force, and no one could hear me stamping on the root cellar door.
And that’s when the tornado picked me up and took me away.
After a pretty wild ride, it eventually dropped me in a strange and miraculous place called the Land of Oz. At first I felt all alone - like I stood out like a sore thumb - being from another place and all.
But I wasn’t alone for long. I soon made some friends who didn't think things were inevitable, either. So we decided to stick together.
Like I said, Aunti Em, Oz is a very strange place. There are wicked witches, good witches, flying monkeys and Lollipop Guilds. Perfectly nice looking trees throw apples at us. And then there are the lions and tigers and bears. Oh my!
Everywhere in the Land of Oz, Auntie Em, vast fields of poppies spring up out of nowhere. They look so beautiful, and smell so lovely, that many people cannot help but to lie down and fall asleep, where they dream of wondrous things.
But I’ve learned that those poppy dreams can quickly turn into nightmares. And when you wake up, all you have is a big headache.
Sometimes Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, helps us out with the poppies. Sometimes all it takes is some fresh clean air and the truth.
So, in June I thought it would be a good idea to start a journal, because I didn’t think anyone would believe all the strange things I saw and experienced here in Oz if I ever made it home again. And I let everyone read it.
Mid-way through July, my friends and I started traveling down the Yellow Brick Road. This road took us to some faraway places, where I met many wonderful people, and made even more friends.
But, at the end of July, things got really crazy in a place called Munchkin Land. A plane flew overhead, and I was sure it was someone come to rescue me and take me back home. But it was not to be.
So, I dusted myself off, and prepared to be stuck in the Land of Oz for a while.
In August I found out that when the tornado dropped our farmhouse, it landed on top of the Wicked Witch of the West’s equally wicked step-brother. This is not as bad as it sounds. He was really pretty wicked - and not in a good way. All that was left of him was an orange t-shirt and a gray ponytail.
But the Wicked Witch was pretty ticked off at me about it, and, for some strange reason, my little dog, too. I'm not sure why she was so angry at me. I’d just been a passenger in a hijacked farmhouse after all. It wasn’t my tornado. And I was just telling people what I saw going on in Oz.
At the end of August we made it to the Emerald City to ask the Wonderful Wizard of Oz for his help. I thought he must be a truly wonderful wizard to live in a city like that, but he turned out to be nothing but a big disappointment. He wouldn’t even grant us an audience. Then, in September, he started sounding a lot like the Wicked Witch of the West. I suspect poppies are involved.
In October we followed the Yellow Brick Road all the way to the Capitol of Oz. There we met people like us from all over the world.
In November I watched 17 great and powerful people, from kingdoms all across the Land of Oz, stand up to the Wicked Witch of the West, and tell her what she could do with her poppies.
But the Flying Monkeys still come at us at every turn. They spit at the Tin Man, hoping his mouth will rust shut. They throw flames at the Scarecrow, hoping he'll burn out. We’ve even intercepted some of their communiqués - which hint of dastardly deeds.
I don’t know why they do these things, Auntie Em. I have no special powers. I can’t make poppies grow by waving my hand, or draft public policy or sign million dollar agreements. I don't have easy access to bazillions of dollars. I’m not a good witch or a bad witch, and so I don’t have my own broomstick to carry me to high places where I can get lots of attention. All I am, is farm girl from Kansas. I can’t do great and powerful things. So I just tell the truth - and watch great and powerful things happen.
So maybe that's why.
Well Auntie Em, I’ve got to go. I can’t see the end of the Yellow Brick Road yet, but don’t worry, my red sequined ballet flats were built to last. Glinda likes to tell me that all I have to do is click my heels together three times to get back to Kansas and the life I used to know. But I know better. I’ve learned that sometimes it takes a lot of hard work to do the right thing. But it’s worth it. Because there’s no place like home.
Take care, and say Hi to Uncle Henry for me.
P.S. Please send money. The flying monkeys stole all our signs.
Posted by Gladys Kravitz at 10:05 AM