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"Maybe you need to use your wand," suggested Lisa. "Or say an incantation?"
"Or make some kind of magical motions?" put in Tweaty.
"No," sighed Ozma. "This operation is not as basic as all that. The Forest Monster has grown so vast that my untrained abilities are not going to work. It may be weeks before I will be up to this challenge.
I'm afraid I'm just not used to being a fairy yet. But I think I could do it if I had an Anmars."
"A what?" asked Elephant. "I've never heard of an Anmars before."
"It's a standard magical tool that most wizards or witches would have.
But I don't think there are any more witches in the area. Allidap and her evil sister were both destroyed by Dorothy, and the Witch of the Deep South got rid of most of her old implements, saying that they reminded her of a time she'd prefer to forget."
"How about Glinda?" suggested Tweaty, who was still in the form of a small orange pachyderm. "She's a Good Witch, you know. Wouldn't she have one of those Mars things?"
"An Anmars," corrected Ozma. "Yes, I'm sure she would. But the last I heard from her, she was going to visit some place that was having a drought and try to correct it. A place called Yoraitia. I do not know where it is."
"Yoraitia?" echoed Tweaty. "I flew by there once! I know where it is, and it isn't very far from here. But there was a dark and shadowy place on the way. I didn't land there, as I thought it looked scary and dangerous. But I can lead you there, if you want me to."
"Then we are saved!" said Elephant with a loud trumpet blast. "Even if that shadowy dark place is dangerous, no one can stand up to our formidable Forest Monster!"
"Er," pouted the Monster, "I'd rather not be thought of that way any more. Like your Witch of the Deep South, there are things that remind me of a past that I'd rather forget."
"Of course," said Lisa. "I'm sure Elephant didn't mean to imply that you were mean any more."
"Certainly not," replied the pachyderm. "So can we be on our way? I so want to be reunited with Tiger and Pinky and the others."
"Of course," replied the Forest Monster (and it is actually getting hard to keep referring to him by that t.i.tle in light of his abrupt change of heart. I have to wonder, was he ever really all that monstrous?). "Why don't you ride on my back. I have very long legs, and it will make the going much faster."
They all agreed to this plan, and were off to find Yoraitia.
CHAPTER 14
ME AND MY SHADOW
It has been mentioned before that, although very comprehensive maps exist of Oz, there are areas that are totally uncharted and about which very little is known. One such area is the Land of Lost Shadows. In fact this may be the very first time that this mysterious land has ever been mentioned by any living human being. That is because no one has ever known where a person's shadow goes when he dies. It has always been a.s.sumed that when someone's physical form is no more, his shadow automatically disappears along with it. That is quite true, of course.
But does anyone ever stop to think where it disappears _to_!
Now, it is very true that if you are separated from your shadow when you are alive, it can be sewn back on again. Any child who has ever read the story of Peter Pan knows that this is so. But when a person's body dies, the shadow has no desire to be buried in the ground or to be burned up.
None of these things bother the body because it is not aware of anything. But the shadow is totally aware and is anxious to remain active and useful. Sometimes these shadows are helpful and good. Other times, the opposite is true. Scholars of Oz are already well aware of the time when the shadow of the Wicked Witch of the East made a ploy for revenge against the magical country. But no shadow can continue to remain alive outside of the enchanted lands. After all, it is but a shadow of its former self (if you'll pardon the pun). So it just zips off to Oz to reside in the Land of Lost Shadows. Now, the word 'lost' is a misnomer here. The shadow itself is anything but lost. In fact it is quite at home in its new abode. However, it is lost as far as the rest of the world is concerned. Well, enough of these explanations. Let us get back to our story. No created beings other than shadows had ever crossed the borders of Shadowland (which is the name used by the inhabitants). That is, no one had until Elephant, Ozma, Tweaty, Hootsey, Lisa, Nibbles and the Forest Monster happened to stumble on it by accident. And the way that happened was as follows: Each member of the little band was so preoccupied with his own thoughts--especially Elephant. He was still thinking how close he had come to being eaten by the Land Sharks and the miraculous change of heart on the part of the Forest Monster. As for the Monster himself, he was feeling bad about all the evil things he had done, and was contemplating what he would say in apology to all of the animals he had wronged. Since it was getting dark by this time, he failed to notice the thick, dark area looming up in front of him, when CRAs.h.!.+ He went straight into it. And since it was really dark now, the shadowy occupants were quite invisible. Hootsey suggested that there was no point in stumbling around in the dark, and that the best thing to do would be for everyone to lie down and go to sleep.
This seemed like a fine idea to Elephant, who promptly flopped down on the gra.s.s--almost squas.h.i.+ng Nibbles, who was already snoozing under him.
The Forest Monster also took a position of repose, but far enough away from his smaller charges that he knew he would not roll over and squish any of them. In the twinkling of an eye, he was fast asleep. But it was hardly a restful sleep that he experienced. It was a deeply troubled sleep. In his dreams, he saw the tortured faces of the many that he had mistreated in his angry power play. The wispy night visions experienced by his companions were hardly any more enjoyable, except those of Princess Ozma, who rated enough respect from the Sleep Fays that they would not allow any negative influences to disturb her sleep. Instead, she saw visions of the beautiful Love Fairy, and the lilting, music-like laughter of the Laughing Fay. These served to make her smile inwardly as she slept.
Ozma was the first to awaken. She felt refreshed and envigorated. The sound of birds chirping and the warm sun on her face brought her out of her deep restful slumber.
The first thing that her eyes focused upon was a two-dimensional shadowy shape moving toward her along the ground in much the same manner as the shadow of an airplane would. She instinctively looked up at the sky to see what flying object might be casting its shadow on the ground. But there was nothing to account for it. Then she became apprehensive, for it occurred to her that perhaps one of the land sharks had escaped her snailifying spell and followed them and that was what she was seeing.
But no; it was definitely just a shadow, for it had stopped right in front of her. Then the shadow stood up as it became a three-dimensional human being.
"Good morning," said the shadow, who had now taken the form of a very ordinary man. This awoke the others, who were surprised to see a man in a baseball uniform.
"Forgive me for startling you all," said the man. "But you see, when the sun comes up high enough in the sky, we shadows resume the forms of our previous selves. In fact, we are identical to our previous selves except that our bodies are composed of high-frequency molecules as opposed to the low frequency molecules of our earthly bodies." Seeing the quizzical look on everyone's face, he quickly continued: "It's quite simple, really. We are composed of the same material you are. After all, none of us could reside in Oz if we weren't."
"It makes sense, when you think about it," said Ozma. "But I am very curious as to why you are wearing baseball clothes. Have you just come from a game?"
"Yes, I have," answered the man. "Baseball is pretty big in Shadowland.
You see, we have a large population here of old baseball players and baseball fans. It's the biggest thing we all have in common, so we tend to congregate together. As a matter of fact, we not only have games between ourselves, but we invite teams in the United States to visit when the players are in rest.i.tude. We have a wonderful time together. Of course, the visiting players don't usually bring back the memory of the games when they awaken in the morning--Well, maybe some fragmented dreams--but that doesn't detract from the game or the great fun we have.
Those young whippersnappers think they'll show us old timers a thing or two, but boy, do they get a run for their money!"
"Might I inquire as to your name?" questioned Tweaty, rather timidly.
"Why yes," came the simple reply. "My name is Richard Marquard. Please, just call me _Rube_."
"Sounds like a backwoodsy hillbilly name to me," said Elephant, intending his words to sound like friendly teasing.
"Ha ha!" laughed Rube, equally friendly. "My nickname being what it is, you probably automatically a.s.sume that I must have been a country boy.
That's what most people figure. But it's not so. Fact is, my father was the Chief Engineer of the City of Cleveland, and that is where I was born and reared."
"Okay," said Elephant. "So then, why is it that you are called _Rube_?"
"Well, it's a long story," answered the ball player's shadow.
"Then we had better not take the time to hear it all now," said Hootsey.
"We have a very important mission to fulfill."
"Yes," agreed Lisa. "But perhaps Mr. Rube could help us. I think we should bring him along."
"A grand idea!" exclaimed Ozma. "Mr. Marquard, would you be so kind as to join us on our mission? I would like to hear your story, and then will be happy to tell you ours."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "_My name is Richard Marquard. Please just call me Rube."_]
"If I had been asked to join an undefined questing party by any other than the Queen of all Oz, I might have hesitated," came the reply. "But as it is from you, I will come along."
"Splendid!" said Elephant. "Then let us be off!"
Rube was lifted atop the Forest Monster, as were Elephant and the others, and from this high podium Rube began his unique tale. "It all started with my father," he explained. "Like I say, he was the Chief Engineer of the city of Cleveland. As far as he was concerned, the only important thing was for me to get a good education. But as far back as I can remember, all I could think of, morning, noon and night, was baseball.
"'Now listen,' Dad would say. 'I want you to cut this out and pay attention to your studies. I want you to go to college when you're through high school, and I don't want any foolishness about it. Without an education, you won't be able to get a good job, and then you'll _never_ amount to anything.'
"'I already have a job,' I'd say.
"'You've got a job? What are you talking about?'
"I'm going to be a ballplayer,' I'd explain. But Dad was not very receptive.
"'A ballplayer?' he'd say, throwing his hands up in the air. 'What do you mean? How can you make a living as a ballplayer? I don't understand why a grown man would wear those funny-looking suits in the first place.'