Dimensional Reality: Oz (Chapter 13)

  “What does all this have to really do with me? Why am I here?” Dorothy blurted out, her eyes as wide as hubcaps.

  Joseph looked up and into her eyes.  Dorothy looked back at him for a few moments before dropping her eyes.  She felt like he was boring into her soul with that look.  She could feel his eyes on her even after she averted her gaze. When time started to seem indeterminate, Joseph spoke.

  “Your great-grandmother was a mortal when she first arrived here.  But as she lived here many years, the magic of Oz began to infuse itself in her being.  Fairy blood ran through her veins.  That same blood runs through your veins.  You are the twin of your great-grandmother during her time in Oz.  The Fates have brought you here, possibly in hopes that you will save Oz as your ancestor did.  That is your decision.  I am here to make sure that you have that decision.  I have the ability to take you back home right now. Or, if you decide to stay, I am here to assist you in saving Oz.”

  Dorothy looked frightened, felt frightened.  She was a year shy of even having a driver’s license.  What did she know about saving an entire dimension.

  “I don’t know how to do any of that.  I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  Joseph just smiled softly, almost tenderly at her.

  “Neither did your great-grandmother.  She came to Oz with only a small dog and a lunch basket.  And all she wanted to do was to get back home.”

  The bird gave a low, soft whistle.  Joseph stood up, grabbed his bow and fitted an arrow to the string.

  “Get dressed.” he whispered softly.

  Dorothy, frightened at the quick transition of his deamenor, dropped all modesty as she flung the cloak aside and ran over to the line her clothes were hanging on.  She scanned the forest as she whipped clothes off the line and hurridly put them on.  She whispered to Joseph,

  “What is it?  What’s going on?”

  “Blaze sensed something.”

  “Blaze?”

  “Your guard while I was gone.  Blaze is a Mastari phoenix, raised and trained for combat.”

  “Phoenixs are real?”

  “Yes, now take this and be quiet.”

  Joseph handed Dorothy a long dagger and returned to holding the bow with arrow ready.  Suddenly Joseph turned to his left and loosed the arrow.  He lowered the bow and spoke in the direction he shot the arrow.

  “You’re getting sloppy old friend.”

(cont. next entry)