Witchy Tales: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fairy Tale (19 page)

“Everyone shut up and run,” Landon said. “There’s the door.”

“What do we do when we get inside?”

“We find Aunt Tillie and sit on her until she sends us home,” I said. “I’m out of patience.”

“And I want bacon,” Landon said, hopping up the steps and throwing his body weight against the castle door to open it. “This is it. This is going to be the end. If it’s not, I’m sitting down on the floor and never moving again. This is all I can take. This is … good grief. Will you look at this place?”

If your inner voice tells you something is too good to be true, tell it to shut up. Inner voices don’t know anything but how to rain on your parade. They’re real downers most of the time.

–
Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up

“Whoever said you can never have too much green was lying,” said Thistle as she screwed up her face while glancing around the castle foyer. “This is … just … horrible.”

The castle had undergone yet another transformation. This one looked as though someone had put the Hulk in a blender and forgotten to put the top on before hitting the “puree” button.

“Look,” Clove said, pointing at the floor. “The yellow brick road is back.”

“I knew we were going to end at Oz,” I said.

“You’re very smart, sweetie,” Landon said.

“And you always have to be right,” Thistle added.

“Shut up, Thistle,” I said.

“You shut up.”

“Both of you shut up,” Landon said. “This is crunch time, people. We need a touchdown. We all have to work from the same playbook.”

“Have I ever told you how turned on I get when you use sports metaphors to rev us up?” I asked.

“No.”

“There’s a reason,” I said.

Landon rolled his eyes.

“I think the bloom is off the rose for all of us,” Marcus said. “We’re struggling here. Landon is right, though. We’re close. We only have to get through one more story. Can we please try to refrain from killing each other until we’re all back in the guesthouse?”

“I can’t make that promise,” Thistle said. “I’ve been through a lot today.”

“We’ve all been through a lot,” Clove said.

“Not really,” Thistle replied. “You got shoved in a tower for a bit and then got insulted by some dwarves who didn’t like the way you sang. I had to kiss a frog.”

“Thanks again, honey,” Marcus said.

Thistle ignored him. “I also had to kill a wolf,” she said. “I ate poisoned food and passed out. How does your day compare to mine?”

“You don’t want to start comparing experiences,” I warned.

“You definitely don’t,” Landon agreed. “You’ve all had it easy compared to us.”

“Wah, wah, wah.” Thistle danced around a little, something that was out of the ordinary – even when we weren’t trapped in a book.

“We’re being affected again,” I said. “I’m not sure by what, but this is the last obstacle. We can’t succumb to it.”

Landon cracked his neck. “How can you tell?”

“Thistle just danced while insulting you,” I said. “She’s not big on dancing.”

“She’s right,” Thistle said, glancing down at her feet. “I have horrible rhythm. I don’t dance unless it’s a slow one and I can let Marcus lead.”

“It’s the only time I get to lead,” Marcus said.

“Join the club,” Landon said, rubbing my back. “Okay, everyone, bite your tongues. Let’s not talk unless we absolutely have to.”

Everyone nodded and snapped their mouths shut. After a few minutes of staring at each other and hopping from foot to foot, I couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s not going to work.”

“I’m sorry,” Landon said. “That was a bad idea.”

“Let’s find the great and powerful Tillie and get out of here,” Thistle said. “If I jump on her, someone pull me off before I kill her. I’m afraid we’ll be trapped here forever if I kill our ‘Get Out of Oz’ talisman.”

“I’ll let you get in a few good licks first,” Landon said. “What? She has it coming.”

“Did someone say my name?” Aunt Tillie materialized out of nowhere, popping into existence a few feet from us. She was no longer dressed as a fairy godmother, instead wearing a camouflage dress with a wide belt cinched at her waist. Her face was serene as she bowed in front of us. “Welcome to my home.”

“I’m going to kill you, old lady,” Thistle said, launching herself at Aunt Tillie and falling flat on the ground when Aunt Tillie disappeared.

“Where did she go?” Clove asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Don’t do that again,” Landon ordered, wagging a finger in Thistle’s face. “She obviously doesn’t like being attacked.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Aunt Tillie said, blinking back into existence on a velvet settee in the middle of the room. She glanced at her fingernails, feigning boredom. “Besides that, you can’t catch me. I’m quick … like a ninja.”

“I can if I make a really big rat trap and bait it with essence of evil,” Thistle growled.

Aunt Tillie was nonplussed. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“I do.”

“I don’t.”

“I do.”

“Let’s get back on target, shall we?” Landon said, focusing on Aunt Tillie. “We’re ready to go home.”

“And where is your home?”

“Aren’t you the great and powerful Tillie?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“Who says I don’t?”

“Why would you ask if you didn’t know?”

“Why do you care?” Aunt Tillie asked. She was so annoying. Even her alter egos were obnoxious.

“We want to go home,” I said. “We’re really tired. We’ve worked our way through all the stories. I think we’ve earned our ruby slippers … or whatever weird thing you’re going to give us to get us home. I’m guessing with you we’re going to be tapping combat boots together.”

“What makes you think I can get you home?” Aunt Tillie asked. “I’m very good at what I do, but I’m not omnipotent.”

“That’s not what you usually say,” Clove grumbled.

“Did you say something, dear?”

“I said your dress is beautiful,” Clove said.

“That’s what I thought you said.”

“We’ve learned our lessons,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Now we want to go home.”

“I’m not sure you have learned your lessons yet,” Aunt Tillie said. “You might have one left to learn.”

“No,” Landon said, emphatically shaking his head. “No more lessons. We’re good.”

“Come on,” Aunt Tillie purred. “The last one will be easy. I promise.”

“What is it?” I asked, resigned.

Aunt Tillie pointed to a door at the far end of the room, and as if on cue a group of people moved through it. I recognized each and every one of them – and I actually wished I had a camera.

Marnie was there, struggling to move through her tin outfit as the joints made rusty creaking noises with every step. Chief Terry, dressed as a lion, held her steady at one side while a scarecrow that looked suspiciously like Twila gripped her other arm. A green-skinned witch (my mother is going to be furious when I tell her how she looked in this one) cackled like a mad woman while several flying monkeys – which bore a striking resemblance to Aunt Willa, Rosemary and Lila – flanked her.

“What are we supposed to do with them?” I asked, rubbing my forehead.

“Can someone tell me why I’m even here?” Chief Terry asked. “I wasn’t part of any of this. This is embarrassing.”

Landon shot him a sympathetic look. “I think she just had a leftover role to fill.”

“At least you can walk,” Marnie said. “Why am I the one who doesn’t have a heart? I’m a very loving person.”

“At least you have a brain,” Twila said, miserable. “Why does everyone think I’m stupid?”

“Hey! I’m the one with green paint seeping into my pores,” Mom snapped. “Do you have any idea how hard this crap is going to be to get off? Not to mention this is the second ridiculous outfit I’ve been dressed in – and both characters have been less than flattering.”

“That’s a nice way of saying you’re a villain,” Thistle said. “Don’t feel bad. Everyone’s been hinting that I’m a villain for the past … what … twelve hours? I’m beyond it.”

“Clearly,” I said. “It’s not as though you’re dwelling on it at all.”

“Shut up, Bay,” Thistle said.

“Can someone explain why I’m a monkey?” Lila asked.

“I think it’s an improvement,” I said.

“I’m never going to forget this,” Aunt Willa said. “I have a long memory, and I’m going to make whoever did this pay.”

“Shh,” Aunt Tillie said, lifting her finger to her lips. “No one cares what you have to say.”

Aunt Willa scowled. “This is so disrespectful.”

“I kind of like it,” Rosemary said, running her fingers over the fur. “It’s warm and cozy.”

“Shut up, Rosemary,” Aunt Willa said. “No one asked you.”

“I honestly don’t get it,” I said, shifting my attention back to Aunt Tillie. “What are we supposed to do with them?”

“You can kill me if you want,” Chief Terry said, raising his hand and causing Marnie to pitch forward.

“Get me out of this outfit right now!” Marnie struggled to avoid toppling over.

“I have an idea,” Thistle said, striding over to a table on the far side of the room. She yanked the green carnations from a vase and tossed them on the floor before walking over to my mother. “I’m really sorry about this.” She tossed the water in Mom’s face and took a step back.

“What the hell?” I couldn’t believe she did that.

When Mom didn’t immediately start melting I relaxed, if only marginally. “I don’t think that worked.”

“I’m going to ground you all within an inch of your lives,” Mom said. “I’m going to put a whole list of punishments together and I’m going to love doling out each and every one.”

“Ignore her,” Aunt Tillie said. “She’s talking nonsense – like always.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Thistle said, shoving the vase onto another table and flopping onto the settee next to Aunt Tillie. “I’m out of ideas. I want to go home.”

Aunt Tillie smiled. “I didn’t say you had to solve a puzzle,” she said. “I said you had to learn a lesson.”

“What lesson?”

“I can’t tell you what the lesson is,” Aunt Tillie said. “You have to figure it out yourself. That’s how Tillie’s World works.”

“You named the book world after yourself?” Thistle asked, incredulous. “That’s so … .”

“Genius?” Aunt Tillie supplied.

“I was going to say narcissistic,” Thistle replied.

Aunt Tillie glared at her. “I don’t need this. I’m a very busy woman. I don’t have to sit here and take your abuse. I’m not the one who wants out of here.”

“Oh, please, Aunt Tillie,” I said, hating how whiny I sounded. “We’re sorry. We’re really sorry. We’re sorry we yelled at you. We’re sorry we threatened you. Heck, we’re sorry we ever laughed at you. We’re sorry for every rotten thing we ever did to you.”

“Go on,” Aunt Tillie said, clearly enjoying herself.

“We just want to go home,” Landon said. “I’ve never wanted any one thing more than I want to be able to roll over … in a bed … and realize that I’m not alone and we’re not about to be attacked by something or threatened by something or even simply annoyed by something.”

His words tugged at my heart – and pricked at my brain. “We’re ready to go home,” I said, grabbing Landon’s hand. “After all, there’s no place like home.”

Aunt Tillie jumped to her feet. “See! Was that so hard?”

“That’s it?” Thistle’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “That’s all you wanted?”

“I’m easy to please,” Aunt Tillie said.

Thistle looked as if she was about to argue but Marcus wisely clapped his hand over her mouth. “You’re very easy to please,” he said.

Aunt Tillie winked at him and then waved her hands dramatically. After a brief burst of light, the rejects from Oz who resembled our family disappeared – along with the horrid green interior of the castle – and we found ourselves standing in an almost empty parlor. The only things in the room were two pedestals. A pair of ruby slippers sat on one and a gold lamp rested on the other.

“Which way do you want to go?” Aunt Tillie asked.

“Which one is quickest?” Landon asked.

“The shoes.”

“We’ll take the shoes.”

“The lamp is more fun, though,” Aunt Tillie said. “It involves a magic carpet ride through the heavens before you land back home in your beds. I hear it’s to die for.”

“I don’t really care,” Landon said. “I … really? A magic carpet ride?”

Aunt Tillie nodded.

Landon glanced at me. “One more adventure couldn’t hurt, could it?”

I smirked. “I don’t think we’ll ever run out of adventures,” I said, linking my fingers with his. “I’m in for the magic carpet ride, too. I can’t think of a better way to get home.”

I BOLTED
to a sitting position, my eyes searching the inky black for a hint of movement or familiarity.

I was in a bed, although the quiet didn’t offer any hints about whether or not it was my own. I instinctively reached to the other side of the mattress, almost crying when I felt the empty spot. Something moved beside me on the other side, and I felt Landon’s arm wrap around my waist. “I’m right here, Bay.”

“I … where are we?”

“Home.” He sounded sleepy.

“Did you just … ?”

“Go to sleep, sweetie,” he said, pulling me tight against him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“But … .” Did that happen? Was it real? Was it a dream?

“Come on, princess,” Landon murmured, settling me next to him and burrowing his face against my neck. “We’ll have a new adventure to grapple with in a few hours.”