Page 4 of There's No Place Like Oz

I glanced upwards to assure the last of the homestead was done with its descent, then I turned cautiously on my heel to look around some more. Where I was or what had happened to Aunt Em, Uncle Henry, or Toto, I couldn’t begin to say. I knew forsureI wasn’t in Kansas though.

I could see massive, rocky, snow peaked mountains in the distance, first of all. And there sure as fuck weren’t anything that resembled real mountains in Kansas. The vast jungles across the horizon line, where I could see the fanned leaves of towering ferns and palm trees left me to think that this wasn’t somewhere in Colorado, either.

I touched my face to verify I could physically feel it, just to officially negate any remaining hope that this was a dream, while I slowly took in my more immediate surroundings. I seemed to be in a small town of some sort. There were little bitty houses that looked like they were built from bricks, mud, and grass. Very simple and very primitive. Almost Hobbit-like, really. Was I back on set for that straight to cable Cave Man RomCom? I’d already dismissed the possibility of a lucid dream, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t still be a lucid nightmare…

I dusted myself off, scattering wood shavings back to whence they came, and I began combing the wild mess of my highlighted and no longer straightened hair. The streaks of lighter and darker blond from my last bleach and style session shimmered in the sun like locks of pure gold, while the frizz of my never-quite-even curls was a lost cause under this heavy humidity. But still, I liked my natural curls. I’d straightened them for years to better match the aesthetic of the other models and actresses I saw in the waiting rooms, and it was almost refreshing to see them so loose and free for once.

Pretty.

I smiled silently at the thought that had become far too rare when I regarded myself. I kept combing, then I started braiding this rats nest best I could.

I’d nearly made myself presentable by the time people began emerging from the houses.

They were rather small figures, probably something like three feet tall at most. And they all gawked at me, wide-eyed, as if I’d just landed from the heavens. I suppose I kind of had. They all approached with slack-jawed wonder sparkling in their eyes.

I pursed my lips, not quite certain what was going on. Perhaps they’d never seen someone who towered as high as my wild and massive five foot four—a height that was far too diminutive for the runway modeling I‘d once dreamed of, yet made me a giant today.

I glanced down at my clothing again, reminding myself of the sheer amount of blood staining my sweater.Well, this probably doesn’t appear very kosher. Not sure how I was going to explain this.

I wrapped my arms around my sweater in an attempt to cover my crimes from the forty or fifty pairs of little prying eyes, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous and self-conscious.

They stared me down with their shock and horror, and I experienced stage fright far beyond anything I’d felt back when I first signed up for improv. I took one awkward step back, only to have them swarm in ever closer.

Small as they were, these folks weren’t proportioned like dwarves. They were more like kindergartners with adult facial features, complete with wrinkles and facial hair.

“You killed her…” A man with a twisty mustache muttered.

Fuck. “I-it was an acci—”

“You saved us all, great sorceress.” A woman with thinning white hair and the tiniest, cutest eye glasses I’d ever seen interrupted me. She shook her head without giving me a chance to process any part of that ridiculous statement. “What a battle. The way you fought for her broom and stabbed the Wicked Witch of the East again and again even once she was down. Why it was so savage. What a sight to behold!”

“I uh… That’s not…” I blinked rapidly.Not my proudest moment here.“No I—”

“Our hero.” One of the little people said.

“A great hero.” Another echoed the sentiment.

“Not even the Good Witch of the North dared to stand against Grunhilda of the East.” A younger looking woman professed with adoration.

And then they all got on their knees and they all bowed deeply with the utmost respect, while I continued to process what in the unholy fuck was happening. It probably wasn’t a good time to mention that I’d been trying to save the witch when I pulled that stick out of her. But better to be seen as a successful vigilante than a bumbling accomplice.

“Will you set us free, great sorceress?” The elderly woman raised her head. She took to her feet and stepped forward.

“Uh…”Well, this is awkward. “I mean… I’m not going to tell you how to live your lives or anything.” I attempted another step back, feeling awfully crowded all of a sudden. I wasn’t exactly privy to whatever this Grunhilda chick had put them through, but enslaving a bunch of itty bitty people shockingly didn’t rank on my list of morally acceptable activities. Not the least of which because I wasn’t a sorceress at all, so I’d be pretty easily overthrown if they ever got uppity.

This isdefinitelynot Kansas. Country folk were many things, but they were definitely not the types to bow to much of anyone for much of anything. I knew—assumed, rather—that they weren’t dangerous, but I was still at a total loss as to how I was supposed to react here. Their wide eyes were all jabbing into me like the staring equivalent of acupuncture, and I didn’t even know what Grunhilda did to deserve their hate.

“Sure. You’re free. You’re welcome.” I tried, hoping I’d read their social cues right.

Cheering and oohing and aahing erupted from the group. “How can we ever repay you great sorceress?”

“I just want to go home. I have no idea where I am or how I got here...” I stopped myself from saying much more on the basis that, right now, they respected me, and I felt it would be wise not to ruin that. My mouth wasn’t good for much beyond digging my own grave, as I’d discovered over the last decade. It got me a handful of auditions, I suppose, but that was usually less from reading the part and more from… Right, well, we don’t need to think about that right now.

Not feeling terribly comfortable with the way they were all still staring and crowding and making a commotion over me, I low key glanced around for an out—any out at all—but there were so damn many of these guys. Where was Toto when I needed him? He may not be big, but neither were they, and I could’ve used his inflated sense of size and protectiveness right about now.

“Where is your home?” The little old lady asked. She seemed to be the leader of sorts. She asked the most questions, and no one ever dared interrupt her. I hoped that when I was her age, I’d be able to command that kind of respect. Especially since I didn’t seem to get too much now. I would not look back on my twenties with any love lost.

“It’s in Kansas.” I tried first. They all glanced among each other with befuddlement. I couldn’t really blame them. If I didn’t have a need to know Kansas, I probably wouldn’t have ever heard of it either. “I would settle for Hollywood. Los Angeles? Do you know where that is?” I tried second. The one and only good thing I could count on about California was that most people in the world had at least heard of it. That, and the fact that, if I did make it back to LA, there were plenty of flightsout of it.

---