Chapter 8: A Time to Search

Elphaba paled so severely that Wilbur hurried over and took her hand, to keep her from falling from the chair. He gripped her tightly, gently pressing her head forward to help her remain conscious.

"Elphaba?" he asked in his low, steady voice, "Elphaba?"

Elphaba took a few long, deep breaths as the adrenaline coursing through her counteracted the initial shock. As her head cleared, she slowly stood and began to pace in her customary fashion.

"Child, sit down. We don't need you faintin' on us and hurtin' yourself," Mae instructed, although not unkindly.

Elphaba was undeterred. She wrung her hangs and tried to speak, "You don't understand…I have to…I mean if there's some possibility that…but there couldn't be. It just isn't possible…"

Mae tried to stop the pacing, taking Elphaba's shaking hands, "You're not making sense, child. What isn't possible?"

"I have to look…if he's out there, I have to find him…"

"Who?" Mae and Wilbur asked the question simultaneously.

Elphaba opened her mouth to answer, but found she couldn't bring herself to utter his name. The wound was still too deep, festering beneath the tough layers of scars that had unwillingly formed. The idea of his being alive was so very ludicrous, so beyond reason, that the possibility twisted the knife that was permanently lodged in her heart.

Instead of answering, Elphaba stood, openmouthed, for a long moment. Finally, she resumed both speaking and pacing, "Do you have horses? Surely, you must have horses. Could you teach me to ride? I've had very limited experience, although I'm sure I could pick it up. I have, after all, spent a great number of years riding a—" she stopped short of the word 'broom'. Even people as accepting as Mae and Wilbur were sure to question the idea of riding on brooms.

"I've ridden other things," she finished instead.

Mae stepped in front of Elphaba and took her hands, finally ceasing her frantic pacing, "Child, of course we'll teach you how to ride. I just hope that…" she paused, "I hope what you're looking for is out there," Mae finished softly.

Elphaba forced a smile, not at all confident that she could ever possibly find what she was looking for. However, the idea of having a purpose, having something to do, made this strange place seem less daunting.

So, for the next week, Mae took her out at dawn to ride the handful or horses she and Wilbur kept in their pasture. Mae was surprisingly adept with the animals, mounting effortlessly and moving fluidly with their gait. Two of the horses were powerful, black Shire horses, used for pulling the wagon and plows. Two were Arabian, Mae had explained, both shades of chestnut. The fifth was a beautiful, black and white Appaloosa that Mae called Lucy.

On the fifth morning, Mae mounted Lucy, settling herself into her favorite old and worn saddle. She directed Elphaba toward Jasper, the youngest, most spirited of the Arabians. Elphaba cocked an eyebrow upward, but she clutched the reigns and swung one leg easily over the saddle.

Mae led the way through the pasture, into the open plains beyond. They trotted easily, allowing the horses to graze and drink from the small stream that snaked across the edge of the property. Elphaba took to it naturally, drawing from her many years maneuvering a small, uncooperative, magicked broom across the sky. She fell easily into the rhythm of the horse, lightly holding the reigns as the powerful animal moved beneath her. She rode astride, as did Mae, finding the restraints of sidesaddle pretentious and ridiculous in the wide open plains.

"I'm much too old to care about an antiquated social custom that is entirely impractical in this frontier town," Mae had said, smiling as she swung her skirts over the saddle.

This day was bright and warm, bringing out the golden flecks in Jasper's coat. Elphaba spurred him with her heels, sending him into an easy lope. Mae followed easily, a gleam of pride in her eye as the wind whipped the horses' manes. Elphaba clutched the reigns a little tighter, glancing over at Mae as she leaned her body into the horse's. Mae gave a slight nod of approval, and Elphaba broke away into a full gallop.

A rush of adrenaline shot through her as Elphaba felt the thrill of the wind on her face. Not since she had flown had she felt this freedom, this connection to nature that seemed to be bred into her. So many things seemed to fade away as she thundered across the grassy landscape. She was so engrossed in the feeling of riding, she didn't notice she'd crossed the border of the property into a neighboring field until she saw a group of people gathered outside. They must have been having a luncheon gathering of some sort, as food was spread out on the long, wooden table before them.

As Elphaba thundered towards them, their faces registered surprise and shock. Her hair had pulled loose from its pins and flew haphazardly in a wild, black streak. To them, she must've looked as wild as the animal she rode, exotic and colorful, and riding with the confidence of the men who herded cattle beyond the borders of the town. As she rode past, Elphaba caught their looks of awe, mixed with a little fear.

"They surely hate me," she whispered, hardly able to hear her own voice over the pounding horse.

They don't know you, she heard suddenly.

She hesitated for a moment, shocked, before realizing it must have been Jasper who answered her.

Hold on, she heard him again, and without question she clutched the reigns.

Jasper stopped with the precision of a well-trained herding animal, and reared back on his hind legs. Elphaba clutched him tightly, melding her body with his as she had done many times when her broom kicked upward in a sudden updraft. Jasper let out a deep, guttural call before righting himself and taking off across the plain.

She left the crowd in the dust, to be shocked, angry, inspired, afraid or whatever emotion suited them. As Elphaba galloped away, one face in the crowd was pinched into a hateful grimace.

Myra Spinnaker was not amused.

"You nearly lost me," Mae chuckled as she trotted up beside Elphaba.

Elphaba didn't answer as they made their way back to the farmhouse. Finally, she asked instead, "Have you ever…spoken to your animals?"

Mae considered, "I suppose I talk to them all the time. I respect them for who they are."

"Do any of them answer you?" Elphaba asked.

"Not with words," Mae replied, "Sometimes with their behavior, but they don't speak."

"They speak to me," Elphaba offered, having been raised in a world where such an idea was not absurd.

Mae stared for a moment, not harshly, but in disbelief.

"You can hear them?"

"Not audibly, as it was in Oz. I can hear them in my mind. Even Bala, who's so young, has something to say," Elphaba explained.

They rode in silence for a moment, and Elphaba feared she might have frightened Mae. However, the older woman finally spoke, "That is a gift, child. A gift that is not understood. But I suppose I shouldn't expect any less from someone like you."

Elphaba considered this as they reached the farmhouse and put the horses to graze in the pasture.

"Even here, without magic, I'm different," She mused, as she stroked Jasper's nose before turning him loose.

Different is good, she heard clearly, before he trotted away.

Elphaba cracked a lopsided smile.

The following day was Thursday, and Elphaba was up with the sun. Her search for Fiyero would have to begin tomorrow, as she couldn't miss her meeting with Adrian. Mae simply nodded as Elphaba hurried through breakfast and announced she would be going to the library.

"Be careful," was all Mae said, planting an unexpected kiss on Elphaba's forehead.

Elphaba jerked backward, surprised, yet just a little grateful. With that, she breezed from the house and mounted Jasper, spurring him into a trot in the morning sun.

"She's not a child," Wilbur reminded Mae, coming up behind her as she watched Elphaba's retreating form.

"I know, but some of the people around here can be so…cruel."

"I think she can handle herself, Mae. She's hard as nails, at least on the outside."

Mae nodded, and returned to the kitchen.

Elphaba made it into town easily, negotiating the poor roads smoothly with Jasper's careful step. As she expected, the townsfolk appeared in doorways as she rode through the heart of town. Elphaba kept her focus forward, her head held high.

She stopped at the library, where Adrian stood at the base of the stairs. She dismounted easily, and he looked impressed.

"You're quite the rider. And riding astride, as well," Adrian smiled at her.

"I don't know any other way to ride," Elphaba threw out. She turned to Jasper and instructed, "Stay here, I won't be long."

I wouldn't leave you.

She nodded, indicating she understood him.

Adrian looked shocked, as Elphaba started up the steps without tying the horse to the post at the street.

"He won't leave me," she threw out as explanation, and then looked impatient as Adrian still did not move.

Elphaba had just managed to pull him to the top of the steps, when the spindly librarian from the previous week emerged, slamming the door behind her. She crossed her arms over her chest and declared, "There's no coloreds allowed in the library. Says so right there," She indicated the hand-painted sign hanging outside the door.

Elphaba's blood ran hot with rage, and she pulled herself up to her full height. Looking down at the other woman, she spat, "Madame, unless you claim to be invisible, I believe you are just as colored as I am. I am quite green, and you are a sickly shade of beige that, quite obviously, men do not care for."

The woman's mouth dropped open a little in shock, but she quickly recovered, "Sheriff!" she shrieked.

Both Elphaba and Adrian turned to see one of the members of law enforcement making his way over, with a small crowd following in curiosity. Elphaba recognized Lenny from the confrontation at the farmhouse.

"What seems to be the problem, Miss Kate?" the middle-aged sheriff drawled, adjusting his belt over his voluminous stomach and wiping the sheen of sweat that had already formed on his brow.

"Mae's colored woman refuses to heed the sign, here. She ain't allowed in the library!" Kate complained in a high, sharp voice.

"I was here just a week ago, and I have caused you no harm!" Elphaba argued.

"Ya tricked me!" Kate pointed an angry finger in Elphaba's face, "And you went against the law, too!"

"I don't see the harm," a young man piped up from the small crowd, "If my coloreds could read, I don't see why they shouldn't use the books. Don't make no sense to have a white library, and a coloreds library."

Elphaba grit her teeth together, "You should hear yourselves, speaking of other people as though they were your property!"

"They was!" an older gentleman barked, "Before the government got involved and gave 'em rights! Now I got to pay 'em to do the same job as before!"

The revolutionist in Elphaba flared to life, and in the moment, she was a young woman again, faced with Animals who were being decimated for simply being who they were. She strode over to the older gentleman, parting the crowd as she walked.

"And how did you come to this knowledge, that your skin color is somehow superior to mine, or anyone else's?" Elphaba hissed, locking eyes with the man.

"God made that choice, when he put the white folks in charge of this country," the man growled in an ominous tone,

"And what color is God, since you have obviously seen him?" Elphaba challenged.

With that, she strode over and seized Kate by one slender arm. She pulled the smaller woman to the center of the crowd, and withdrew a small blade from her tiny satchel of supplies Wilbur had sent with her. In one deft motion, she ran the blade across her forearm, and then across the librarian's arm. A thin line of rich, crimson blood formed quickly on both women and dripped into the dusty soil. Kate gasped and clutched her arm in pain.

Elphaba spoke before Kate could shriek, "I dare one of you," she shouted, "to tell me whose blood is whose once it's fallen to the ground! Tell me, so I can understand what great difference there truly is between us!"

The crowd was deathly silent, and Elphaba waited, her arm outstretched with the wound visible for all to see. Kate seemed riveted to the spot, too shocked to move. She, too, stared at the identical red stripes across their arms. Elphaba started to feel the smallest bit triumphant, as the fight seemed to have drained from the librarian. However, just as Elphaba turned to Adrian, the older gentleman seized her by the arm and twisted her around, clutching her so she could not run.

"You make a good speech, but it's a waste of education if you ask me! You're just as colored as the rest of 'em and you better mind your place in this town," the man's full beard concealed some of his expression, but his eyes were hard, "I'd hate to see you get hurt…"

The threat was not lost on Elphaba. When he slackened his grip, she wrenched away. Jasper snuffled in the distance, sensing danger for her. Adrian finally approached quietly.

"Come on," he whispered, "let me get some books and we'll find somewhere else to talk. It's not worth all this. We can't solve all the world's problems today."

Elphaba clenched her jaw and nodded, very slightly, hating the idea of giving in. She had, however, been given little choice.

The crowd slowly dispersed, with grumbling arguments breaking out amongst the people. They were clearly divided, and many stopped to stare at the tiny red droplets in the dust, clearly indistinguishable. Some of them led Kate away, nursing her arm.

"Watch yourself," was the only warning the Sheriff offered as he made his way back down the street.

Adrian returned after a time, and he and Elphaba made their way down the bustling streets. Elphaba's pulse quickened, her anger mounting as they were greeted by sign after sign stating 'No Coloreds Allowed'.

Sensing another impending explosion, Adrian led the way to a small patch of scraggly trees on the outskirts of the main part of town. They spread themselves out in the sparse shade. Jasper had followed willingly, and he sniffed amongst the dry grasses.

Adrian began to open books and talk animatedly about his research of the eleventh dimension. Elphaba tried to focus, since what he was saying was terribly interesting. However, her mind constantly went back to Wilbur's words from a week previous.

There was a colored man in White Springs some years back with that name. Always did seem odd…

"So you see…" Adrian was saying, "There could be an infinite number of universes, all unique, existing simultaneously in dimensions beyond what we can experience, as humans. They're all closer to us than our clothes are to our bodies, but we can't experience them. At least not all at once. Most of us never know more than the world into which we're born. But you…" he trailed off, sensing Elphaba's distraction.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba shook herself, "It's fascinating, truly, and perhaps it does explain Oz. And I want to know more, but…."

"But what?" Adrian looked genuinely concerned.

Elphaba sighed, " But I think what's on my mind right now may be much closer than a quantum leap into another universe. I must resolve this first. I need to know…" she stood and started to mount Jasper, "I will meet you next week, and perhaps be better focused." With that, she threw herself over the powerful animal and trotted away, leaving Adrian with his books.

The next morning, she was gone at dawn, with several bags Mae and Wilbur had wrapped for her. They had insisted on sending food and supplies, along with her clothing. Having always been one to come and go of her own accord, it was awkward for Elphaba. She itched for the freedom of the journey, yet it was nice to know it mattered that she returned.

White Springs was a day's journey from Amber Plains, and the road was as straight as Wilbur had described. Elphaba almost wished it had been more difficult, less well marked, or even cut through a dense forest. The likelihood of her finding Fiyero seemed somehow related to the difficulty of the journey. Instead, she found herself on the outskirts of the small, ramshackle town by sunset. She took a deep breath and trotted down the main street to find a meal for Jasper.

She was greeted by the usual shocked stares and wary glances as she rode through the dusty streets. Elphaba found herself travel weary, and her patience was thin as she approached what looked to be a hostel or rudimentary hotel of some sort. She dismounted and reassured Jasper before shuffling through the creaking wooden door.

"Do you have a room for a traveler, and possibly a place for my horse?" she asked the sharp-eyed woman behind an aging wooden counter. The woman studied her, raking her eyes over Elphaba from the tips of her boots to the top of her raven head. The woman was perhaps Elphaba's age, with dark, russet colored skin and rich, dark eyes that were almost black. Her jet black hair fell over her shoulder in a long, thick braid. Her dress was soft, intricately woven, and beaded. Elphaba couldn't help but stare at her in return.

Finally, the woman answered, "There is a shelter in the back, with hay," she pulled a key from the shelves behind her, "Room six. Do you have any money?"

Elphaba produced a few coins from what Wilbur had packed into her duffle. The woman took just two and pushed the rest back toward her guest.

As Elphaba turned to retrieve Jasper, the other woman threw out, "I am Maiara, if you need anything."

Elphaba met her eyes and nodded, grateful.

She returned to Jasper and led him around the three-story, clapboard structure to the rudimentary barn she found in the rear. She led him into a stall where there was fresh hay and water. The horse snuffled his thanks.

I am grateful to you. Sleep well.

Elphaba rubbed his nose before returning to the house. She found her room to be quite nice, and she slept well.

When she awoke the next morning, the sun was already bright, and she smelled the warm scents of food cooking downstairs. Dressing quickly in an unassuming dark dress, she tied her hair back securely and anxiously descended the stairs. She found the same woman from the previous evening in a dining room of sorts, with several wooden tables at which were seated an eclectic mix of people.

They all stopped talking when Elphaba entered the room, and a deafening silence followed. Maiara broke the silence by pulling out a chair and calling to Elphaba, "You can sit here, with Miss Tessy. Perhaps she can help you."

Again grateful, Elphaba made her way over to the small table and sat carefully in the high-backed chair. The woman across from her had skin like rich caramel, with lots of dark hair that was intricately braided atop her head. Strands of were trying to escape and create neat little corkscrew at her neck. She ate neatly, and studied Elphaba in a way that was not unfriendly. The others finally resumed their chatter.

Tessy set down her fork and said, "I suppose if I die tomorrow, I can truly say I've seen everything now," she took Elphaba's hand and studied it, as if trying to decide if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"Was you born this way?" she asked.

Elphaba nodded, holding back her usual snarky comments. Maiara set down a plate in front of her just then, and Tessy asked, "What's your name and your story?"

Elphaba snorted, "My name is Elphaba, and I believe my story is nothing you want to hear. And would take far too long."

Tessy returned to eating, "Then what brings you to White Springs?"

Elphaba took a few bites before answering, "I'm looking for someone. It is most likely an impossible idea, that I would find him here…" she considered for a moment, "His last name was…is Tigelaar."

Tessy nodded, as if in recognition, "There's a Tigelaar on the outskirts of town. There's a whole house of 'em, I believe. I can take you, if you think you'd be welcome."

Elphaba suddenly lost her appetite. She set down her fork and swallowed hard. Her stomach twisted and turned. She forced herself to confront the idea that Fiyero could indeed be alive, but also be living a good life with a new family of his own. She paled, as she was faced with the cruel reality that their time together had been quite short, with no lasting ties, save for the son she had never found the courage to claim. Why should Fiyero, if he had survived, cling to the memory of a young woman he'd carried on an affair with in his youth? Mistresses weren't the stuff of enduring feelings, or lasting memories. He was a man, and perhaps he had not clung to her the way she had to him. Perhaps she had loved him much more than he had ever loved her.

Elphaba suddenly realized Tessy was speaking, and that she'd been staring aimlessly for quite some time.

"Do you want to go?" Tessy was asking.

Elphaba tried to answer, but found her throat was thick and dry. She took a few sips of water and considered.

"Yes," she finally answered, and yet her stomach twisted painfully. Still, she had to know, even if fate was once again against her.

"You want to finish your breakfast?" Tessy asked.

Elphaba shook her head, nauseated.

"All right then," Tessy stood and led the way outside.

Elphaba headed toward the stable, where she found Jasper well rested and fed. She was surprised as Tessy retrieved a speckled mare from another stall, navigating the place as though it were her own.

"I live here," she finally explained, "I keep the place up for Maiara, in exchange for a home. I've not got a husband or family to care for me, and being colored, I ain't got many job prospects in this world."

"I understand," Elphaba answered, and she did, having seen the prejudice herself.

They mounted the horses, and Tessy told her the story of White Springs as they traveled.

"Town was settled by colored folks and Indians whose tribes had been wiped out or drastically relocated. It's unusual for such folks to own land, but they laid claim to it before the white folks could raise a fuss. Land is legally owned now, and even old Jim Crow can't change that. Not many white folks wants to live here, or even trade here, but we've got enough to keep us happy. We just want to live out our lives with our freedom, and hope for a better tomorrow for our children. We don't believe that separate but equal mess in White Springs. The white folks that live here support us. We've got one store for everybody, one restaurant, and so on. Hope that doesn't bother you none, but I imagine it wouldn't…"

Elphaba considered the story, her spirits lifted slightly at the idea of a town where there might be less hate.

"I came here myself because they shot my fiancé for wantin' to marry me. My father was a slave, and my mother was a white, child bride wed to a hateful man. They kept their relationship secret for nearly ten years. That was long enough for me to be born and for her husband to realize I was not the lily white child he hoped for…" Tessy told her story matter of factly, as though such torment was an every day occurrence in the world.

They arrived at a large farmhouse then, and Elphaba did not have time to comment. Tessy dismounted and Elphaba followed, her steps slow and unsure. Tessy rapped on the heavy front door and waited. A young boy answered, dark-skinned and wide-eyed with curiosity.

"Is your mama or daddy home?" Tessy asked.

The boy considered before hollering, "Ma! Ma! Some ladies is here for you!"

The heard footsteps, followed by a booming voice, "It's are here, Thomas! You ain't never gonna amount to nothin' in this world if you don't learn to speak better than your Ma…"

A heavyset woman pulled the door open all the way as she wiped her hands on an apron. Her hair was a cloud of corkscrews around her head, escaping from the ties she'd used to try to secure it. She startled slightly upon seeing Elphaba, but recovered.

"How can I help you, ladies?"

Tessy extended her hand, "Name's Tessy, this here's Elphaba. She lookin' for a man by the name of Tigelaar."

The woman considered this for a long moment, before opening the door wider and motioning for them to enter. They followed her to a large kitchen, filled with the sweet smell of apple and cinnamon and fresh dough. They sat at the heavy, wooden table, and the woman left the room. She returned momentarily with a young man of about seventeen.

"My name is Trudy, most calls me Ma. This here's Jacob. He's the most likely to help you. I'll be getting' back to my pie, if you need me," with that, Trudy crossed to the counter, and Jacob sat cautiously at the table.

"Why are you looking for my father?" the young man asked, guarded.

Elphaba felt her world spin, and she clutched the table to keep from fainting. She swallowed hard over the bile as her stomach lurched. She could say nothing. Both Tessy and Jacob stared at her until she finally choked out, "He is your father?"

"Only father I ever had. Only person who ever cared enough to be a father. What's it to you, anyways?"

Elphaba tried to find the words, any words, to explain what it all meant to her. There were none. She finally managed to get out, "Fiyero…was his name Fiyero?"

Jacob nodded, looking increasingly curious.

"Where is he?" Elphaba barely whispered.

Jacob swallowed and looked at his hands, "Would you like something to drink?" he offered.

Elphaba suddenly ran out of patience. She took Jacob's hand, realizing she was trembling as she stared him dead in the eyes, "I've had enough drinks and meals and journeys and confrontations and agonizing choices over the past fourteen years to take me to my grave. Sweet Oz…just tell me where he is!"

Jacob was a little taken aback by her intensity, but he pulled his hand away and began, "My father took us in ten years ago, when I was about seven. There are twelve of us, all ages. We come from all over, mostly abandoned or orphaned in the conflict between Abolitionists and slave traders. Boys and girls. He did right by us, gave us food and this house and let us work the land as family. It's ours…all fifty acres. We live here with Ma now, since father is gone…"

"Where?" was all Elphaba could say.

"Some white men took him about a year ago. Said they were taking him to Texas to be tried in some sort of court. They didn't like what he was doing. Didn't like that he was educated and spoke well and owned land. Didn't like it that he seemed so…different…" Jacob swallowed hard, "I heard them threaten to hang him…and we haven't heard a word in a year…"

Before Elphaba could speak, she realized a young girl was tugging at Jacob's shirt. She'd entered so quietly, none of them had seen her. "Jacob," she questioned, "Are you tellin' them about Yero? When is Yero coming back?" she looked up at the young man with the sad innocence of a child.

Elphaba felt her emotions reel so strongly she struggled to stay upright, "Yero?" she choked out, "You called him Yero?"

Jacob nodded, lifting the little girl into a chair, "It sounded less odd here, than Fiyero. And he said it was a nickname given to him by someone he loved. Someone he loved so much he refused to marry anyone else. That's why we have Ma."

It was too much for Elphaba, to hear how much she'd meant to him, and yet to know he might have died again. The joy and pain combined together until she trembled. The others gasped as she fainted onto the hardwood floor.