DOROTHY MUST DIE BONUS SCENE
I never told him this, but from the
second it first started beating, I could always hear it thumping through his
tin chest. Faint, but constant. And I could always hear it speed up whenever I
was near.
Stupid,
stupid, Tin. I thought you would guard that heart with all that you were. I
thought you would be the least likely to fall.
The memory of before pushed in and
there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was another time. When Tin’s heart
was newly and firmly in his chest. When his heart beat for me. And I thought it
was the most annoying sound in the world.
We were in the anteroom, fresh from
one of our very first battles. Tin was covered with munchkin blood. Together we
had made quick work of them.
“I was magnificent. Did you see the
way I froze that one? I had no idea I could do that. And I think we made the
right choice with the new axe.” Adrenaline was pumping through me, and my
cheeks were flush with the rush of the battle.
Tin held up the multi-headed axe
that had quartered one of the little dissenters in one downward blow.
I passed a hand in front of him and
magicked away the blood. I looked down at my own dress and checked it for splatter,
but there was none. The ruffled layers of my gingham dress were a little
deflated but blood free. I twirled my sequin encrusted fingernail in the air,
swirling the air beneath it and poofing the dress up.
“You are always magnificent,” he
whispered. When I looked up he held my gaze, despite what I had told him about
doing that.
I sighed, a heavy annoyed sigh.
“Tin, why do you have to do that? We were having such a good time. Why do you
have to be so ridiculous?” The apples of his tin cheeks burnished for a split
second.
Out there, he had acted without
hesitation. That was when I liked him best. But seconds later he was standing
too close, staring too long. And he was no longer my best warrior, he was a
hulking pile of awkwardness.
“You know why,” he said quietly, but
his voice echoed too loudly back to me.
It was the closest he’d come to a
profession of love. And I needed him to keep his words inside. If they passed
those metal lips of his . . . it would be different. We would be different. Now he was hopeful. I could let him have
that. But the minute he said out loud how he really felt, I’d have to reject
him. I could not have my number one soldier be a loser.
“You know why,” he repeated and put
his hand on his chest. “You can crush it or you can wield it.”
I shuddered at the idea of Tin and
romance in the same breath. I knew there had been a girl who loved him, once
upon a time. It seemed laughable now, but I had to remember that he did used to
be more human than tin. I’d even seen a picture of him once when he had all his
original parts. He wasn’t bad looking. But it wasn’t just the metal exterior I
objected to. When he wasn’t in battle, he was more stiff than any person I’d
ever met on either side of the rainbow. When he fought he seemed more alive,
more human, more real. But I would never tell him that. It would only encourage
him. “Tin, don’t make me have to wire your mouth shut right now.”
But like an idiot, he kept talking.
“I still remember what it was to be loved. It fills you up, it gives you
purpose, it gives hope. It does not have to be returned for it to have
meaning.”
“Tin, you can’t really believe
there’s a world where a princess ends up with scrap metal.”
“Anything is possible in Oz,” he
said under his breath, and held open the door to the Throne Room.
As I walked through, I thought about
turning back. I could transport him back to Munchkin Country, and leave him
with a long walk home to think about his stupidity. But something stopped me.
Something was wrong with Scarecrow and Lion.
When we entered, Scare’s
cloth-covered brow twisted in uncertainty. Lion’s tail twitched nervously like
I hadn’t seen in years. They were nervous, or scared, or both. And they were
clearly waiting for us.
“What is this?” I asked, looking
from Scarecrow to Lion and back again. Usually, Scare was playing with his
latest invention and Lion was admiring his newfound muscles. But today, they
were standing still and quiet. I didn’t like it.
Glinda popped in, in all her pink
glory. “Your friends have something they want to talk about.”
Glinda took her place beside the
throne, waiting for me to settle in, but I decided to remain standing.
“What you did out there, to the
munchkins. You didn’t have to do it,” Scarecrow said.
Glinda had warned me about this.
About my friends not supporting me. About the loneliness of power. But I had
never seen it. Until now.
“I don’t have to defend my actions
to you. They were prepared to storm the castle.”
“They were protesting,” Scarecrow
said.
“Who protests Happiness? They were
clearly under the influence of the resistance.”
“They were just munchkins,” Lion
whined. “They have no magic. All they had was an upside-down smiley-face sign.”
He pawed at the floor. “What Scare is saying is that perhaps there are other
ways to change their minds.”
I looked over to where Ozma was
curled up in the corner playing with Toto. Her expression was so vacant. It had
taken a lot of magic to do that to her. I was tired and my complexion was
sallow for weeks afterward.
“I’m not going to waste my magic on
them.” I scoffed, and turned to Glinda. “And you agree with this?” Her
bejeweled lashes fluttered innocently.
“Once something is gone, it’s gone,
even in Oz. And we may have plans for the munchkins yet . . . But you are the
princess and your word is law, dear Dorothy. I would never refute that. You certainly don’t need me to tell you
what to do,” Glinda said gently. Too gently. It was the voice she used when she
was teaching me magic. She liked to stop just short of where she wanted me to
be and let me find my own way there. Without bothering with a good-bye, Glinda
teleported away with a knowing PermaSmile.
Did she want me to exile my friends?
I looked at Scare, whose eyes
widened with curiosity. As smart as Scare now thought he was with all his new
brains, he couldn’t see the target that Glinda was painting on his burlap back.
Maybe she was right. Lion, Scare,
and Tin were the only ones in the land besides those dead munchkins and a few
witches who did not treat me like the princess I now was. It was because they
knew me before. When I was just a farm girl from Kansas. Before I made Ozma’s
brain mush. Before Auntie Em and Uncle Henry were taken from me. They would
always be looking for the old me. That wretched dress, that boring hair, all
that innocence . . . I had to deal with them.
“Do you want to go back to where I
found you cowering in the forest?” I looked at Lion, who curled up in a fetal
position at the memory.
“Or rusted and stuck?”
I looked at Tin, who smiled as if
the moment we met had been more of a first date than a rescue.
“Or dumb as straw?”
I looked at Scare.
“Either we are the ones who do things, or those things are done to
us.”
Scare blinked his button eyes hard.
He knew he didn’t have a counterargument. Lion jumped back to his feet but
gnawed on his tail nervously. I had made my point, but I could still see their
doubt.
Impatience swirled in me. Having
magic should have meant no more waiting. I could feel my shoes tighten on my
feet. Sometimes I had to look down at them to make sure they hadn’t fused into
my skin. Sometimes I didn’t know where they ended and I began.
I stamped my heel against the
emerald floor and a giant crack formed as the room began to shake. Tin
stretched out his weapons for balance. Lion hunched down on all fours.
The crack in the floor began to zig
and zag its way between us. Tin jumped to my side of the crack immediately, his
knees squeaking as he stood up straight to attention. I stifled a laugh. The
black abyss crept toward Lion and Scarecrow as I waited for their answer.
Scare jumped first, carefully
picking the smallest gap. The Lion leapt over the widest part bravely—but
stupidly—and had to scramble up to his feet.
Scare spoke first as always, “We
follow you like we followed the road.”
Lion repeated, “We follow you like
we followed the road.”
“We follow you like we followed the
road,” Tin echoed.
I took a step back from them. The
blackness I created beneath the floor began to swirl. It would be so easy to have
it take them away.
“You are stronger with us, than
without us. You don’t have to love us. You only have to use us. And let us love
you,” Tin said, and took a step toward me. He extended his hand.
I didn’t take it. But the room
stopped shaking. The blackness stopped swirling. I raised my hand and the crack
began to heal. Lion sighed with relief. Scare picked up his hat, which had
fallen in the drama. And the corners of Tin’s lips threatened to break into a
smile.
Glinda was wrong. Tin was right. I was
stronger with an extra brain, brawn, and heart at my disposal.
Tin walked me out of the room, his
hand hovering just behind my back.
I swatted it away.
I could hear his heart pick up the
pace. He was encouraged because I used his advice.
“Anything is possible in Oz,” he
whispered again. For his insolence, I decided to transport him all the way to
Quadling Country in a blink. He’d have a long walk back to the Emerald City to
think about talking to me like that again.
Stupid
Tin and your stupid heart. I thought it was the worst sound on either side of
the rainbow, until now. Damn silence.
I can see that pink-haired girl,
that horrible Amy Gumm, holding Tin’s heart in her hands thinking she’s won. One down, three to go . . . But she has
no idea what she’s up against. No idea.
“Anything is possible in Oz,” I
shouted into the void.
