Tik Tock 2
The storytelling podium, in the center of the City, was the one island in the middle of a heaving mass of bodies. People lined the streets. Footsore and hungry, they lined the streets waiting for the festivities to officially begin.
It was dark and cramped inside the wagon. Nimmie had suggested that perhaps it would be safer for him and for her perishable wagon, if he hid in the back with Lion, while she and Jester fought through the masses.
Finally they had reached the Emerald Palace. Nimmie quickly dropped down off of the wagon and opened the back door.
"When the music starts, go into the palace. I'll be along in a few minutes." She instructed hurriedly picking up a few gadgets and unusual gizmos, along with a brightly painted tambourine.
"Obviously, you haven't done this much, have you? Do you know what they will do once they see me? They'll mob us both." The Tinman replied trying not to sound haughty.
"Believe me… they won't notice you. I guarantee that." Nimmie said with a sly smile. Tinman grabbed her hand and pounded it against his metal chest. The echo reverberated dully in the closed space.
"If you hadn't already noticed, I'm the only one here made of tin." He hissed in the darkness.
Her soft eyes fixed on him and with a sympathetic almost pitying look she said, "Trust me." It was not a command but a plead.
He nodded in assent despite the protestation of Lion. With a content smile of approval, Nimmie had disappeared from the back of the wagon, leaving the door wide open.
"Welcome one and all, my happy, faithful Ozians! Welcome to a brand new festival this year!" Nimmie said with a dramatic curtsy. A shout of glee spread through the crowd.
"I'm sure you're all looking forward to the festivities. Aye?"
"AYE!"
"Then, let us start off with a friendly dance and a happy song." Nimmie began shaking her tambourine back and forth
Let us be glad! Let us be grateful!
Let us rejocify, that goodness could subdue,
The wicked workings of you-know-who.
Isn't it nice to know, that good will conquer evil…
Tinman, in compliance with Nimmie's request moved towards the end of the wagon and stepped out as quickly as possible.
There were people all around but no one even looked at him. They're eyes were fastened on the Quadling girl, dancing and singing to the beat of her own tambourine. Lion padded softly after the Tinman and together they climbed the steps, never once being noticed, into the palace.
A red-mustached guard marched solemnly up to the pair and tapped his stick hard on the ground.
"Oh great heroes. Her Goodlyness, Glinda of the North, requests that before you go to your usual rooms, that she have a short audience with you."
Tinman would have blushed if he could, his eyes widened, he stood stock still, as if not believing a sudden change of fortune.
"Glinda, wants to see me?" he breathed.
"Us." The Lion corrected brusquely over Tinman's shoulder. The guard nodded sharply and led the way.
For the first time, Glinda actually wants to see me! Me of all people!
A giddy light-headedness settled over him as he walked nearer and nearer to the one memory that he given him comfort… after he had… well, been changed permanently. He took a sharp breath before slowly entering her room.
There Glinda sat. The years had treated her well, she wasn't tin, but there were barely any traces of worry lines or creases made by sad thoughts. Her plump full lips were still moist and round sitting in a coy pout as her blue eyes glittered with a slightly dimmer, wiser light. It was there that she had aged the most. Not as innocent, or as perky, Glinda's eyes bore the brunt of all her mistakes. They were the barometers of time.
She rose and put on a diplomatic smile, the kind you can feel isn't genuine, and quickly glided towards her guests.
"Welcome, our last two remaining heroes, I'm sure you'll remember me, I'm Glinda the Good. Witch of the North."
"Of course I remember you, Miss Galinda." Tinman said staring at her, gaping.
"Galinda? I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you, the 'GA' is silent, its merely Glinda, now," She looked wistfully towards the window, "I haven't been called Galinda in a very long time. Funny you should mention it."
The Tinman grew desperate; there she was, only a few feet away. Why was it that whenever he saw her he got so terribly tongue-tied? In fact he became so flustered he threw all sorts of tact right out of the window.
"Don't you know who I am?" He asked stepping forward quickly as he could. Glinda looked at him puzzled and then a cheery grin came over her face.
"Course! You're Tanman! I'd know you anywhere! You come here every year! I make a speech and you tell that story, over and over." She grabbed his arm and took the Lion's paw quickly drawing them in close.
"In fact," she whispered, "That's why I've asked to see you."
"The story?" Lion asked, completely destroying any attempt Tinman had been making to tell her about what had happened to himself.
"Yes, you see, I did a census of the people who came to festival last year and found that a very large percentage were children under twelve. And as I listened to your wonderfully… creative, rendition of your tale, it struck me that a lot of your imagery was… well…"
"Inappropriate time." Tinman mumbled talking to himself bitterly. All Glinda heard was, "Inappropriate."
"Exactly, Tuneman!" She said with a big grin, "You've come to the same conclusion, then."
"Naturally." He said quietly.
"Then you agree that the story needs a little censorship. No?" She levered.
"Of course…" He said, his eyes searching hers for some spark of recognition. For a minute he caught a glimmer of something behind her faux persona. She almost thought for a minute that, she might have known him. Then it was gone.
"Then it's settled," Glinda said with a flick of her wand, not bothering to ask Lion his opinion. There was silence.
"Tenman? You look a little green around the gills. Are you alright?" Glinda asked seeing that her hero looked absolutely miserable.
"I'll feel better when I'm cleaned and polished." He fought to speak and even the words "cleaned" and "polished" sickened him of his metallic state.
"Perhaps you should go and have that done." Glinda suggested feeling even less comfortable by every passing tik tock.
"I would do anything for you…Miss…Glinda." As quickly as he could muster he rushed from the room followed by a thoroughly confused Lion.
Glinda stood there her mouth hadn't dropped yet, but the sense of déjà vu was too strong to be a coincidence.
It couldn't be…could it? He told us… five years ago, that he was Nick, a woodcutter, turned to tin by an enchanted axe. Why would he say…THAT to me. Of all things, unless he knew that I would recognize it…
"Glinda, I'm back." A warm strawberry jam voice interrupted her.
"Amee?" Glinda asked turning quickly.
Nimmie smiled from the door. Glinda ran and gave her a big Glinda-is-happy-hug and motioned for her to sit.
"I simply must do your hair for tomorrow! But first, I know that business comes before fashion, so spill!" Glinda asked her voice falling back to it's excited squeak.
"You mean the work with the Animal Refugees? The Dillamond Charter?" Nimmie asked for personal clarification.
"Of course silly, what else has been bothering me for the last six months?"
"Your bust size." Nimmie replied half joking.
"That too, but tell me, tell me!" Glinda pleaded.
"Well, I had wanted to wait until, well… the festival was over to break bad news, but the Animals don't trust us and they dislike the whole idea of a charter. They say that it's some kind of contract to take what little they have away." Nimmie shook her head with a heavy sigh.
"Amee, they didn't sign?" Glinda asked bluntly.
"Not a paw print, nor Llama spit signature. Frankly, I don't blame them; after all, Morrible and her little lackeys did a number on them. Lucky for us, the human kid, and that black mop head with feet enlisted the Lion, and unwittingly scored us a victory. That Lion is now a national hero. And the freedom he enjoys may act as an incentive for the other Animals to come back."
"You mean, for them to want to accept the reinstated citizenship I'm offering them." Glinda said with approval.
"Exactly." Nimmie confirmed.
"Then, why haven't they accepted yet? They've had three years, since I came up with the charter and more than ten opportunities, since I assigned you as special courier." Glinda said flopping down onto a lounge chair and pouting.
"We've had a small trickle of Animals coming back in, the percentages get a little bit better every year, but not in the leaps and bounds that you had originally envisioned for the Dillamond Charter." Nimmie tried to be comforting.
"I want those figures to be exactly what I had calculated, if not better… and you know what happens when I want something. I get it."
"Easy there, I sensed a little bit of Morrible in that remark. Remember, her little coalition is still around too! Just cause she died four and a half years ago doesn't mean her doctrine doesn't live on in some twisted people. She fills the streets with her propaganda and frightens the Animals away. Stories of underground torture, ridiculous punishments, etc, etc, are rumors that spread fast, because that is what the Animals expect to hear. They still don't think that anything has changed, and that you personally, are trying to bring them back into slavery to the peoples of Oz." Nimmie explained.
"Then, how can we get those figures the honest way?" Glinda asked. Nimmie thought for a minute… certain tactics were definitely out, she and Glinda had both come to a reasonable consensus on what Nimmie would and would not do for Glinda's new governmental ideas. The only way would be to gain their trust, the hard way. Talking them into it. Even worse was the fact that it would still be up to the Animals to join or refuse to sign the charter.
"My contact lives within a major Animal Refugee Camp out in the Oogaboo Mountains. I have been using that contact to get me information and meetings with Animal Refugee leaders, to talk about the Charter.
"Unfortunately, according to my source, the camp used to be easier to get to, but after Morrible's little twister of fate caused the magissurequake, (the magical impact from a house from one world falling into another, especially on the Wicked Witch of the East a major magical pressure point.) it shifted and greatly enlarged the mountain range so that now it reaches from the most northeastern corner of Winkie Country, to the fork of the Munchkin and Winkie Rivers smack dab in the middle of Winkie country.
"As if that wasn't bad enough, the mountains bend further southeast from there, completely splitting Yips' Territory into two tiny counties. The camp, most probably moved after Morrible's stupid pressure shift and now, I'm sure that they would not be brave enough to come down the mountain on the Emerald City side…" Nimmie pulled out a handy map and traced the area she was speaking of with her finger, "So they would either stay in the mountains or they could be anywhere in there." She pointed to the expanse of land between the eastern Deadly Desert and the new border of the Oogaboo Mountains.
"That's quite a gamble. You intend to try and reach them?"
"If you want the Charter to go through, I'll have to try." Nimmie replied honestly.
"We don't have any other chance really, do we?" Glinda asked.
"No, we don't."
"Then do your best, Amee. Tell me if you need anything and I'll do what I can." Glinda instructed.
"I'll think about the whole thing tonight and get back to you with a list of supplies by tomorrow, day after, the latest. Good luck with the festival." Nimmie said with a reverent bow, leaving Glinda to officially commence the festivities.
