Dorothy's Mystical Adventures in Oz Part 30

The witch moved ever so slightly, but did not awaken.

"Well, she's still alive, all right," said Dorothy.

"That's amazing," said the Lion. "But what is even more amazing is that the water didn't melt her away like it did her sister. We must have all temporarily forgotten about that in our excitement."

"She must be made of a different material," said the Tin Woodman.

"I wonder why we're trying to save her," the Lion said. "If she recovers, she'll just attack us again."

Dorothy, ignoring the Lion's remarks but bracing herself, began mouth to mouth resuscitation. Sure enough, the witch began to stir.

"She's coming to," said the Lion, stepping back slightly.

The witch's eyes opened and looked evilly from side to side. She looked around her, but could see only a few blurry shadows.

Gradually, her eyes focused on Dorothy's pretty features. Hatred began to well up inside her. She stood up shakily, then collapsed in a faint.

"Quickly!" said Dorothy. "More water."

The Lion ran to the stream and filled the Tin Woodman's hat to the brim.

He carried the funnel in his mouth as he ran back to Dorothy, spilling most of it on the way.

Dorothy sat the witch up and pressed the rim of the funnel to her lips.

"Drink," she said as she tilted it. The witch took a sip, then collapsed again.

"I don't think she's going to make it," said the Tin Woodman.

"We must try to save her," said Dorothy, as she sprinkled the few remaining drops of water on the witch's face.

The witch opened her eyes again, then sat up by herself. She looked incredulously at Dorothy, and, shaking her head in disbelief, said, "You are trying to save me?" Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"You must get some rest now," said Dorothy. "We'll talk later."

The witch closed her eyes and seemed to go into a peaceful sleep.

"Well, what shall we do now?" said the Lion.

"At least she didn't get mad at us," said the Scarecrow.

"We'll let her rest," Dorothy said. "Then we'll see what she has to say."

The girl lay back and closed her eyes. Presently, she drifted into sleep. She began to dream of her adventures in Oz: of meeting her friends for the first time, and of meeting the Wicked Witch of the West in her terrible anger after Dorothy's house fell on the Wicked Witch of the East.

She dreamed of returning to Oz for the second time and meeting the Wicked Witch of the Deep South. Then she dreamed that all three witches were attacking her at once. The Wicked Witch of the West screamed at her: "So, you thought you'd get away from me, eh? Well, I've got you now, my little pretty!" She screamed again with that horrible cackle that all witches seem to have. As her scream tapered off, the Wicked Witch of the West's ugly, one-eyed face loomed up right next to Dorothy's face.

She glared at Dorothy and screamed, "You thought you'd liquidated me, didn't you, my pretty? Well, I'm right here! And two of my sisters are here, too. And we have a nice little surprise for you." At that, the Wicked Witch of the Deep South cackled loudly behind Dorothy. As Dorothy spun around, the witch threw a rope around her and tied her arms tightly to her side. They all grabbed the little girl and pushed her roughly into a chair. Then they tied her wrists to the arms of the chair.

Directly above the chair was a big black pot, bubbling and steaming. It was suspended by two chains on pulleys. A rope was tied to an iron ring at the base of the pot and looped through another iron ring on a big wooden beam. The end of the rope lay coiled on the floor.

The Wicked Witch of the West picked up the rope and began to tug on it gently. The black pot tilted slightly. Seeing the alarm on Dorothy's face, the witches cackled in s.a.d.i.s.tic delight.

"Now, we'll see how you like this, Deary," screamed the Wicked Witch of the West with heinous laughter. "We'll teach you to interfere with us."

With that, she gave a big tug on the rope.

Dorothy screamed as the thick black steaming liquid hit her face. But, instead of being scalding hot, it was icy cold. She awoke with a start to find that the Scarecrow was splas.h.i.+ng cold water in her face. "What happened, Dorothy?" said the Tin Woodman. "Are you all right? You were crying out in your sleep."

"Oh," said Dorothy in relief as she recognized everyone. "Thank goodness it was only a bad dream. The witches were about to scald me to death."

"We couldn't wake you," said the Lion. "That's why we sprinkled the water on her face."

"Oh, what a terrible nightmare it was," said Dorothy. "Thank you for waking me when you did."

Just then, the Wicked Witch of the Deep South opened her eyes and sat up. She looked around, slowly. Dorothy stiffened, expecting to hear the usual barrage of abuse. Instead, the Witch spoke quite softly. "So, my little one," she sneered, "you decided to help me, eh? Well, it won't do you any good."

"You would have died, if it hadn't been for Dorothy," said the Scarecrow.

"Really now?" said the Witch. "Is that true, Dorothy dear?"

"Yes, it is," replied Dorothy quietly.

"Why would you want to save me?" said the Witch in the same mocking tone.

"Because all life is precious," said Dorothy. "Even yours."

"Precious to whom, might I ask?"

"Well, isn't it precious to you?" replied Dorothy.

The Witch didn't answer. Instead, she stared straight ahead, as if mesmerized. "Well, isn't it?" asked Dorothy again.

"No," said the Witch, her voice shaking as if she were about to cry.

Dorothy was quite surprised by the turn in events. She had never seen the Witch so docile, so dejected. Her voice softened. "Is there any way we can help you?" she asked kindly.

The Witch stared at Dorothy. Suddenly, tears began to roll down her cheeks. "No one has ever been kind to me before," she said. "Why are you?"

"Because we love you," answered the little girl. "We couldn't show our love to you before because you expressed so much hatred towards us that it made us fearful of you."

"But how can you love someone who hates you?"

"Do you still hate us?" asked Dorothy.

"I don't know," replied the Witch, uncertainly. "I've never known anything but Hate."

"Well," said Dorothy, "we've never known anything but Love. You see, when people are unkind towards us, we try to respond with understanding and sympathy. And although their att.i.tude can be quite disturbing to us, we know that to return hatred back towards them would only intensify the situation. To return Hate with Hate wouldn't help the hateful person in the least. And it most certainly would not help us."

The Witch thought for a moment...."You know, I have never talked quietly like this before. Not even to my sisters. It gives me a good feeling inside. Now I am beginning to experience a strange feeling I've never felt before. I think it's a feeling of compa.s.sion, almost of love.

"This is very difficult for me to say, Dorothy. But I am very sorry for all the anguish I have caused you and your friends."