Cedar POV

I hadn't expected to meet him like this. To be completely honest, I hadn't really expected to meet him at all. I was completely unaware that he even existed. But, on a late Thursday afternoon, there he was, in the front of an art studio that I sometimes went to.

He was tall and handsome. He wore a flannel button-up shirt and tattered jeans that had patches in various areas. On top of his dirty blonde hair rested a knit beanie. But the oddest thing about him was that had no face. He had only a stitched nose and stitched ears and faded details of what once was, I assumed, a face.

I looked at him with a dumbfound expression, unable to hide my feelings. Then, after a while of silence, I realized that he was trying to mumble something, but since he had no mouth, was unable to do so. So, I came back to reality and said, "Oh, you can't talk! Let me get you a piece of paper and a pen, okay?"

The boy nodded and started feeling around for something. "Here's a chair," I said quickly, pushing a stool behind him, "Just plop down."

I hadn't expected him to take it so literally. It was as if he was a doll and went completely lifeless when he went down. He bounced on the chair and fell off.

"Uh, you need any help?" I asked, putting my hands out for him to grab onto.

The boy sullenly nodded and grabbed my arms. Once he got up, he started feeling around for the chair, found it, and placed himself on the seat. I didn't even tell him he was only on the edge.

I grabbed a page of my notebook, tore it, and found a stubby pencil. I returned to the boy who had nothing else to do but sit. I put the paper and pencil in his hands and said, "Here You're just gonna have to do the best you can, okay?"

He took the pencil and started to write. Once he was finished, he raised his head as if to look at me and stuck his arm out with the paper in it. I took it and read, with a little difficulty, "I heard that you were a good artist and that you could paint me a face."

I looked at the boy, "I can do that. Do you have any references you'd like me to paint?" I then realized what I said and smacked myself in the head, "That was dumb of me to say that. Would you just like me to do an interpretation of a typical face?"

The boy nodded. "Okay, you're gonna have to sit very still for me to work," I said as I grabbed a stool and pulled over a nearby table with paint on it. "Do you want blue eyes?"

The boy shook his head.

"Brown eyes?" Another no.

"Green eyes?" The boy nodded eagerly.

"And I assume that you don't really care about the mouth?"

Another nod. I grinned, "Okay, let's start!"

I dabbed my paintbrush and started to paint. As I was essentially making his face, I couldn't help but notice that his skin was like that of a potato sack. Like someone had made him of a rough fabric.

I finished his eyes first. When I was finished, I was surprised that they actually came to life and began looking around the room at once, taking everything. But it was most unexpected when his eyes settled on my face and conveyed something that I couldn't put my finger on.

"And now, your mouth," I announced. And in a few minutes, since mouths aren't that hard, it was finished.

"Aah," he said, relieved that he had his mouth back, "Thanks for doing this. Name your price."

I looked at his with surprise. "Well, I don't really have a price . . . But would you mind answering a few questions?"

"Certainly!" he said with excitement. His voice was peculiar. Despite his tall appearance, his voice was high-pitched and boyish. He also had a child-like enthusiasm that showed in the way he talked.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Gage Scarecrow, and I'm from the Land of Oz!" he smiled.

"The Land of Oz? I've heard of that!" I exclaimed, "But what are you doing here, in Ever After?"

"Well, I couldn't find any artists that were available in Oz that would help out a scarecrow. So I asked the Witch of the North if there were any artists that weren't in Oz. She told me that there was one exceptionally talented artist in Ever After. Of course, at the time, I didn't know what Ever After was, so I asked my friend, whose name is Jimmy but we call him Jittery, what it was. But by that time, my eyes were so faded that I couldn't read. So we had to come here at once and along the way, Jittery told me all about it, and boy, does it sound neat!"

I nearly laughed, "You're really talkative, Gage! By the way, my name's Cedar Wood, daughter of Pinocchio."

"Pleased to meet'cha, Cedar!" Gage stuck out his hand, "I'm the son of the Scarecrow! Well, technically I was made by a scarecrow maker in the Land of the Munchkins, but the Scarecrow raised me!"

"That's really interesting," I said, "My father was the one who made me. But usually when my paint is chipping, I do it myself."

"Cool! I wish I could do that," Gage rested his elbows on his knees and placed his chin on his palms, "I wish I could stay here a little while longer. It just seems so . . . so different than Oz, and I just barely got to see it."

"Then why don't you stay and explore?" I asked.

"Well, because I'm already missing a little bit of school by coming here, and it being a Thursday and all, I have to get back there as soon as possible," Gage explained.

"What school do you go to?" I asked, not helping to hide my curiosity.

"Shakespeare Academy," he said, "I'm not very fond of it, though. It's not as diverse and some of the teachers can be very confusing to understand! With all the 'thou art late!' and 'hath not ye completeth thine homework?' It's so confusing in a boring way!"

"Yikes," I patted his shoulder, "Where I go to, Ever After High, a few teachers are from Wonderland, and sometimes they speak Riddlish. I have a few friends who speak it too. It's like a language that you're supposed to know what it says only vaguely. There's no real way to translate it."

"Really? You're not pulling my tail?" he looked up and asked.

"I've been cursed with a truth spell," I said, somehow sounding amused and not annoyed, "I can't really lie."

"Oh, well, I guess that sucks and doesn't suck at the same time," Gage shrugged.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, you wouldn't be able to lie in general, so if you needed an excuse, you aren't exactly the one who could do so," Gage said, "But, since you can't lie, you'd never get in trouble for lying, and then your friends can trust you more."

"That's a good way to think about it," I smiled.

"Yeah. Pretty good for a guy with no brains, huh?" laughed Gage.

"No brains?" I asked.

"Part of my story. I can't get brains until I visit the Wizard of Oz," the scarecrow explained.

"Makes sense."

"Well," Gage stood up, "I'd best be going now. I don't think I should keep Jittery out there for much longer. Who knows what he'll do when he's scared!"

"Wait!" I held out a hand, "Maybe I could show you around the Village of Bookend while you're here? At least for a little while."

Gage considered this for a moment, and then said, "Sure! Why not?"

"Awesome!" I smiled wide and saw Gage smiling back nearly twice as big.

"Onward!" he shouted, taking my hand and nearly dragging me out the door. Little did I know what I was in for.

Hi, those of you who have read my fanfics before, and those of you who haven't! I'm really excited for this new story. I know it's not 100% original, but I read the Wizard of Oz just for kicks, and after I finished it, I wanted to incorporate the characters into a story! Please review what you think of Gage, and thanks for reading!