Oz Revisited

Dorothy was no longer a sweet young girl in blue and white gingham. She was seventeen now. Her long brown hair had graduated from her carefree pigtails of girlhood to a tightly wound bun of womanhood. She felt she looked like a younger version of her Aunt Emm in her faded calico dress.

Toto had also grown older. He was unable to follow her on any merry adventures - not that there were many to be had anymore. Instead, the small terrier spent most of his days napping on the floor by Dorothy's bed. He had little energy to do much else.

Chores around her aunt and uncle's farm kept her busy now. Either she was tending to the housework, or she was working in the garden, or she was seeing to the chickens and other livestock. It was never-ending and tedious. When she was younger, she used to be comforted by the same old routine. That way of thinking had changed for her over time. She desperately wanted a way out but felt horribly trapped in the life of a Kansas farmer.

The only thing keeping her going were memories of Oz. When she lay down at night, thoughts of the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion danced across her dreams, making her wistful. She wondered how they were doing and if they missed her as much as she did them. It grew to be a fierce longing in her soul. She could tell no one about the adventures she once had experienced. In her heart of hearts, she wanted very badly to go back there. Though she loved her Aunt Emm and Uncle Henry to bits, she was secretly terrified of becoming tired and gaunt like them. The unchanging landscape of Kansas was slowly wearing her down, taking away her youth.

One late spring morning, they all awoke to a dismal leaden gray sky. The air was heavy with the scent of ozone. Her aunt and uncle went about their morning chores with watchful eyes on the gathering clouds.

Though Uncle Henry muttered darkly about the possibility of twisters, Dorothy trembled in anticipation. Hope flared in her as the wind began to pick up around noon.

They were standing on the porch drinking lemonade when Aunt Emm noticed the rotation in the sky. She yelled out a warning to her husband and her niece. Uncle Henry quickly shuffled off to see to the livestock.

As her aunt dashed down into the storm cellar, Dorothy didn't follow. She felt like she was caught in a dream. Instead, she let her feet lead her toward the oncoming cyclone. Her patched and faded dress flapped wildly around her slim body. Bits of dirt and debris struck her face, making her eyes water involuntarily. She lifted her thin arms up as if to embrace the wind. A single word escaped her lips.

"Oz..."

She closed her eyes and let the tornado overcome her.