Episode #1: There’s No Place Like Christmas
“Follow the Yellow Brick Road, follow the Yellow Brick Road,” sang Tin Man as he danced toward the kitchen. It was the same dance he always danced on his way to sneak an early dessert: the Squeaky Shuffle. “Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the Yellow Brick Road!”
It was like any other shuffle, only Tin Man’s joints squeaked with every kick, pop, twist and untwist. A sure sign of much needed greasing.
He tilted his head back, raised his oiling pot, and guzzled a healthy serving of turkey grease. As the warmth spread from his throat to his chest and down his back, he wiggled the lubricant outward into his hips, knees, and elbows, and finally out to his tin tips. Then it was back to business.
“Because, because, because, because, because! Because of the wonderful things grease does!”
“Good tune,” said Scarecrow from the blue velvet armchair, positioned safely from the fire of crackling cedar. He conducted the gramophone with his pencil while he considered how to fill in the other half of his sudoku puzzle. “Never gets old.”
It’s been 85 years since the Yellow Brick Road Gang met on their fateful adventure. And every year since, they booked a lodge in the Rocky Mountains for a few weeks after Canadian Thanksgiving to eat turkey, laugh, and reminisce about the good ol’ days. And for some, the good times kept on skipping along and singing a song on down that witch-free road.
But while Scarecrow teased his brain, Tin Man danced his heart content, and Lion rested his nerve, they knew this Canadian Thanksgiving was going to be different. Scarecrow could feel it in his hay. Tin Man his bolts. Lion his dreams. There was a storm brewing, in fact, the storm was out getting cranberries as it were, and it was only a matter of time before that storm swept back through the front door.
For better or for worse.
“I’m leaving.” said Dorothy as she slammed the door behind her and Toto.
Scarecrow’s sudoku jumped from his grip and into the fireplace. Tin Man was kicking his legs to make it look as if he was running on the spot, when he froze like a deer in headlights. Both barely had time to regain their bearings before the pair of glittering slippers stormed into the kitchen, packed their basket, and idled beneath the timber archway connecting the two rooms.
Dorothy Gale stood locked, stocked, and heels at the ready. “Who’s coming with me?”
“Leaving?” Scarecrow rose from velvet armchair, the hay above his eyes pressed into a furrow, his tone was even and cool. “But where?”
“Nevermind, where! What about reminiscing about our adventure?” began Tin Man, then the desperation rushed through him. “And … and … and Halloween! What about the parade of Dorothys, Totos, Scarecrows, Lions, and Tin Men in our honor?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked, Tinny.” Dorothy stated as if she expected the question to come up. She paced in front of the fireplace. Toto followed her step for step. “Toto and I decided we don’t want to be involved this year. There’ll be enough Dorothys, Totos, Scarecrows, Tin Men, and Lions to go around. Enough to line the Yellow Brick Road all the way to the Emerald City and back again.” Dorothy reached down and took Toto into her arms. “And while they’re there, we’ll be at Christmas.”
Tin Man and Scarecrow looked to one another. It was exactly what they feared. They had only just arrived, hadn’t even got through the Wizard of Oz record once, and Dorothy was ready to leave. Needless to say, it wasn’t part of the plan.
Tin Man took a deep breath and flushed the nervous air out. “Come, Dorothy.” He tapped the seat of the velvet armchair. “Please, sit. Tell us what this is really about.”
“This IS what this is really about!” Dorothy released Toto and picked up her pace. “Halloween has changed, Tinny, and not for the better! Zombie Dorothy, Terminator Dorothy, and of course, my personal favorite, Hibachi Chef Dorothy! I mean, what’s next? Zombie-Terminator-Hibachi Chef Dorothy?”
Dorothy’s knuckles were white, her breaths fast and shallow. And to Scarecrow and Tin Man the reaction was understandable. It was the way of the new world after all. Scarebirds. Tin Women. No one was happy wearing original costumes anymore. There was always an added twist.
“It’s like … it’s like I’m not good enough anymore.” Tears welled in Dorothy’s eyes but she held her chin high and refused to let them fall.
Tin Man, however, had grown sensitive over the years, he was mostly heart and a bit of tin after all, and just the sight of his old friend in pain caused grease to leak down his cheeks as if an O-ring snapped around his eye. In between sobs he agreed to go to Christmas.
Scarecrow pulled a pack of tissues from his front pocket and handed them to his old tin friend. “We understand your pain, Dorothy,” said the man of hay, “but can we even go to Christmas?”
“Why not?” said Dorothy. “Everyone is already advertising. Amazon. Walmart. Even that cute little online store called The Tea & Spice Shoppe has their Christmas teas up. If they can magically transport their stores to Christmas, then there’s no reason why we can’t.”
Scarecrow rubbed his chin and nodded. There was a certain logic to Dorothy’s thinking, but still, he was reluctant to vouch for the idea until everyone’s opinion had been heard.
“Well, go wake Lion. It’d be awfully inconsiderate of us to decide without him. I’ll help Tin Man get cleaned up and re-greased.”
Dorothy celebrated as if it were Christmas morning. Truthfully, she never expected Scarecrow to even consider going along. He was very strict about tradition. As for Tin Man, well, she knew she could persuade him by pulling the right strings. And though Scarecrow still wasn’t sold on skipping Halloween for Christmas, she was confident she could bring Lion to her side too.
Dorothy leaned into the stairwell and called up to Lion. When she didn’t hear a reply or the weight of the floorboards creaking beneath his paws she and Toto ran upstairs and searched his bedroom. When they didn’t find his mane resting on the pillow, they searched all the other rooms, calling out with an inquisitive ‘Lion?’. A moment later, the glittering slippers thundered back down the steps.
“He’s gone.” But Scarecrow and Tin Man didn’t seem to hear her. They were busy whispering. What about, Dorothy couldn’t hear, but she was more concerned about what she had found. She called out again and they turned.
“Lion’s gone.” Dorothy held up what she found. “He left us a letter.”
“Well, what does it say?” Scarecrow came to Dorothy’s side as she unfolded the parchment.
Dear Dorothy, Toto, Scare, and Tinny,
I’m sorry for leaving without telling you, but I was offered the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to really test my courage. I hope you’ll understand.
See you at Christmas,
Lion.
Dorothy found it awfully vague and it wasn’t like Lion to up and leave without telling anyone. But to Scarecrow it seemed the answer was clear.
“Well, there you have it!” said Scarecrow. “It’s settled.”
“Have what?” said Dorothy. “What’s settled?”
“Christmas, of course! Right there. At the end of the letter.” Scarecrow underlined it with a straw finger. “‘See you at Christmas’. Lion went to Christmas! See!”
“I don’t think that’s …” began Dorothy before she realized her mistake and cut herself off. “Yes … I mean, of course! See you at Christmas. That’s exactly what Lion means. He’s already at Christmas, waiting for us.”
It was a ridiculous mistake. One Dorothy certainly didn’t expect Scarecrow to make. Yet, he had already rejoined Tin Man as if he was ready to go without contemplating the idea any further. And he was. Tradition or not, they were ditching Halloween!
“Come on, Dorothy!” Tin Man waved her over.
Without hesitating a moment longer, she picked up Toto and joined her friends on the bear rug in the center of the lodge. Scarecrow wiggled a straw arm into the nook of her left and the Tin Man locked a clunky arm with her right. And that was it. There was only one question stopping her from escaping Halloween.
“Scare, can you calculate how many times I’ll have to click my heels to get to Christmas?”
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just Halloween that changed. After 85 years of the Warlock & Witch Reserve’s inflationary policy, as well as the accumulative effect of market regulations and restrictions, among other considerations, one heel-click was only worth about 0.04 of one now. It was the simple consequence of warlocks and witches believing they could pull magic out of thin air without consequence.
So while travelling from Oz to Kansas only cost three heel-clicks in 1939, and even though the distance was the same, to go from Canada to Christmas cost much more today.
Scarecrow extended several straw fingers as he ran the numbers. “It’s going to cost around one hundred and three clicks.”
“One-hundred and three!” Dorothy looked at her slippers. “Why, I’ll have no heels left by the time I’m finished!”
Her face soured at the thought. She wasn’t even sure she had one hundred and three clicks in her ruby slippers. But there wasn’t time to wonder. This was her chance. And she wasn’t going to give Scarecrow or Tin Man an opportunity to change their mind. The time it would take her to click her heels would be time enough.
Click.
“There’s no place like Christmas.”
Click.
“There’s no place like Christmas.”
Click.
“There’s no place like Christmas.”
Yet, it all happened so fast. And Dorothy, desperate to escape Halloween hadn’t taken a moment to really consider what transpired. It was no more than five minutes ago that she stormed through the door in hopes of convincing Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion that this Halloween would be best spent at Christmas, when suddenly, it transformed into them convincing her to go.
Dread crawled up her back, like a spider that crawled towards the center of her web where her prey lay trapped. But it was too late. She had clicked her heels and spoken the magic words for the one hundredth and third time. There was no going back.
The room began to spin, the fireplace, the blue velvet armchair, and the rest of the lodge became a whirlwind and three seconds later, it stopped.
“We’re here!” Tin Man and Scarecrow rushed out the front door. Toto barked along behind them. Dorothy swallowed the sudden dread she felt, and told herself it was nothing more the excitement and anxiety of going to away. And what was there to be worried about? She was going to Christmas. Better yet, she was at Christmas!
When she stepped out the front door she was struck with a chill breeze carrying the scent of decaying leaves. But not Christmas. There wasn’t even a snowflake to be found. In fact, there was nothing resembling Christmas at all. Nothing except the long winding road that stretched from horizon to horizon. Nothing but a road of red and white bricks, arranged in long, alternating stripes, and next to it, a sign, with five words.
‘Welcome to Candy Cane Road’
