Heyo! Here's Chapter 2!

Elphaba Lover 101 - A very likely possibility!

Dog Lover 645 - Thank you!

Fae's Flower - You'll find out soon enough!

Story time!

Chapter 2

Elphaba

"Fabala, I'm bored! C'mon, let's play twenty questions!"

I sighed. "I told you, Nes-sa. I have to read The Oz-i-ad."

"Please, Fabala?"

Our father's voice came from the front of the carriage. "Elphaba, put down that book and play twenty questions with your sister!"

"Al-right, fine," I said, putting my book aside. "Nes-sa, would you like to go first?"

"Sure," she said. "I've already thought of something!"

"Okay. Is it an an-im-al?"

"Yes."

"Is it an An-i-mal?"

"No, of course not, Fabala!"

"Just check-ing. Is it a hu-man?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is it fe-male?"

"Yeah."

"Is she dead?"

"Yes."

"Is she Oz-ma?"

"No."

"Is she our mo-ther?"

"Yes! Good job, Fabala!"

I grinned. "You're pret-ty ea-sy to fig-ure out, Nes-sa. Okay, my turn now." We kept playing until we arrived in the Upper Uplands. And why were we going to the Upper Uplands? Long story. Basically, it's because I'm pretty screwed up. First of all, I have cerebral palsy, which means I can't walk, do simple things for myself, or speak clearly. And, as if that wasn't enough, I'm also green. Not seasick, not green with envy, I mean truly grass green. All over. But I was hoping that this conductive education program run by immigrants from Ix would at least lesson the CP problem. I would find out tomorrow.

When we arrived at the Ozma House in the Upper Uplands (Father liked to travel on the cheap), my Nanny was still fast asleep. "Should we wake her up?" Nessa asked, concerned. "Is it right?"

"I'm go-ing to an-y-way," I said. "Nan-ny, get up. We ar-rived. Nan-ny!" I shook her as hard as I could.

"Father's already gone in with the luggage."

"Then go in with him if you want. NAN-NY!" Finally, she stirred.

"What d'you need, Fabala?" Nanny asked sleepily. "Are we there yet?"

"Yes! That was some nap you took! Can you stead-y my chair on the ramp, please?"

"Sure thing, Fabala." She stood up and held onto my rickety, cheap power chair as I drove down the portable ramp. If someone doesn't hold onto my wheelchair when I go down even the slightest slope, it skids majorly, I lose control, and Father gets irate.

Nessa, Nanny, and I arrived in the lobby as Father was finishing the check in process. "What took you so long?" he barked. "Elphaba, were you holding up your sister?"

"No, Fa-ther," I said. "But we had to wake up Nan-ny."

"I'm sending you to this program for one reason."

"I know. To be-come more in-de-pen-dent."

"And you better become less of a bother by the end of these five weeks."

"Yes, Fa-ther." Father was like that sometimes. I guess he has good reason. My mother chewed milk flowers every day while she was carrying Nessa, so the baby wouldn't be … well, like me. Nessa was fine, but our mother almost didn't even live to give birth, she was so sick. And the reason for the whole mess? Me.

Father had booked us two rooms at the Ozma House: one for him and Nessa, and one for me and Nanny. Both rooms were simple, with two double beds, a nightstand, and the tiniest bathroom in Oz. Honestly, I knew it would be useless even to attempt getting my chair in there. And this was the supposedly "accessible" room.

"Well, at least it's cozy," Nanny remarked during dinner. "Just be glad you can bear weight, you, because if I had to carry you into that bathroom, I would force your father to take us back home. Nanny just can't lift at her age."

"I know," I said. "But I guess that's why we're here. Hope-ful-ly it'll soon be ea-si-er on all of us."

"I hope so, too. Just don't believe everything your father says, Fabala."

The next morning, Nanny and I woke up around 5. Father and Nessa were still asleep, so we dressed and ate breakfast in silence. We finished this at about 6:30, and the program didn't start until 8. So, for a half hour, Nanny unpacked the rest of our things, and I read The Oziad. I wasn't proficient enough to read it in its original Nital, the ancient language of Oz, but I was getting there.

"Are you sure you can drive the car-riage, Nan-ny?" I asked while she was tying my chair down.

"Oh yes!" Nanny said confidently. "Do you think I don't watch your father? Don't worry, little Fabala. It'll be a smooth ride."

30 minutes, 12 potholes, and two almost accidents later, we arrived at the Conductive Learning Center. "Smooth ride, huh?" I asked sarcastically once I had caught my breath.

"Oh, be quiet, you! Let's get inside."

We were met inside by an Ixaan woman who would have been elegant had she not been wearing tight athletic pants and a running shirt. "Elphika!" she exclaimed. "You must be Elphika! I'm Frau Abakkar, the program director. Wonderful to meet you! Szia, draga! Hogy vagy?"

"Um, I beg your par-don?"

"Oh, I forgot! You're new, so you don't know any Ixaan! 'Hogy vagy' is 'how are you.'"

"I'm do-ing well. And your-self?"

"Nagyon jo! Very good! And this is your grandmother?"

"Oh no, miss, Nanny's just hired by the governor to see to his Fabala," Nanny said. "I hope you'll make Nanny's job easier, miss."

"That will up to Elphika. I'm sure she will work very hard during these five weeks. Now, szia Nanny! You may go!"

Nanny leaned down to my ear. "I'm not sure how I feel about her. Try to survive, will you, Fabala?"

"Good-bye to you too, Nan-ny."

There you go. The next chapter will probably be from Elphie's POV again, just because I'm better at writing Elphaba than Galinda.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers,

Elle Dottore