As soon as he got to the hospital, Bryson rushed in, speed walking and scanning the place, immediately approaching the desk and asking to see Tommy, stating his name and that he had been called about the situation.
Once everything was checked over, he was let into the room.
He gave a brief explanation of how he knew the kid, he himself curious as to why when asked, Tommy had just given Bryson's name, the doctors tracking him down fairly quickly.
He was then asked if he had known of any medication Tommy might have, a main reason as to why they called him down, but Bryson said no, that he had no real relationship with the kid, just that they had met a few times.
The nurses and doctors had been met with the similar confusion Bryson faced, wondering why out of all people, Tommy named him when the doctors asked if he knew anybody.
Eventually, he was informed that Tommy was awake and that he wanted to see him.
Bryson was still surprised and confused as to why Tommy wanted to see him so badly, but he didn't mind it at all, he was more than happy to help the kid out, especially as it seemed he really did need a friend.
He felt awful for him, however, at the same time. It seemed as if Bryson made have been the only person in his life that could truly help him.
The whole revelation made Bryson realize that perhaps he needed to check in on the boy more often..
As he was guided into the room, a female nurse approached him and led him to the room, beginning to explain things more in depth. "So there's a bump on the back of Tommy's head and it looks fresh. We recently drew some blood from him and ran a C.T scan on him. Still waiting on the results. He looks okay right now, but he may have another episode. He's being looked out carefully. We'll have to escort you out of the room if anything else occurs." The nurse explained as Bryson was taken closer to the room.
"So, do you know what happened yet?" Bryson asked, worry clear in his voice.
"Not yet. He's drowsy. Still waiting to see if he says anything. But maybe he'll tell you something?" The nurse suggested as they walked.
"Yeah, mayb-" Bryson started before his phone began to buzz in his pocket, making him flinch again. No matter how many times his phone rang, it almost always startled him after that one specific, creepy phone call.
He lifted his phone up, not intending to answer it as the situation was important until he realized it was his mother.
His mother always got extremely worried if he didn't answer right away. Perhaps it was left over paranoia from when he had gone missing for a few days five years ago, or just the fact that his sister had moved to New York and his father was sick with cancer that she was worried about losing him too.
With all this in mind, Bryson knew he should answer her, but only if first, he knew Tommy would be fine for a few more minutes without him.
"You think he'll be okay if I take this? I don't think I'll be all that long."
"I think you should be fine. Just make sure you have permission to go in after you're done."
Bryson nodded and answered his phone, pressing it to his ear.
"Hey, mom!" He greeted, trying to sound as happy for her as possible, as he knew she needed that kind of atmosphere with how gloomy things had gotten. But try as he might, his voice was shaky and filled with an uneasiness that was impossible to hide from his own mother.
"Sweetie, hi, hi. Wh-what's wrong?" She asked. He could hear how tired she sounded through the phone and his heart ached for her.
He tried not to sigh, though. His mother could always tell when something was up, it was that classic mothers intituion.
"N-nothing.." He said, his voice still shaky.
"Bryson.." she started sternly.
He didn't even try to mask it any longer, knowing it was useless.
"I uh.. I'm at the hospital." He explained, his mind still rattled.
"HOSPITAL?!" His mother exclaimed over the phone, getting the most energy he had felt from her in a long time.
He realized quickly that the way he worded it was terrible and he already felt awful. She already had her husband sick, he thought. He quickly clarified his statment.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay!" Bryson rushed out in a quick mumble, desperate to prove she had nothing to worry about as he never liked worrying his mother. "It's not for me, it's not for me.." He promised in a nervous chuckle.
"Oooh.." his mother sighed out, giving the biggest sigh of relief he had ever heard, feeling relieved himself that she didn't need to worry any longer. "Thank god.. I just.. I already have.. your father sick I couldn't deal with two sick family members I just.. and the money, ugh.."
Bryson could see how overworked his mother was and he wished he was there to calm her down. Moving here really was a mistake in a lot of ways, he had come to realize.
"Hey, listen, it's okay." Bryson assured her in a calming and soft voice.
"You promise? I just.. I don't need that. Who are you there for, anyway? Not someone we know I hope?"
"No it's um.. well, it's interesting, really. It's this kid I met. Got a bump on the head or something.. I think he'll be okay.." Bryson said, downplaying the situation a bit when he spoke about it, knowing his mother had too much going on to be worrying about this.
"Oh, well.. let me know how that goes.." His mom replied, obviously distracted.
"Yeah.. um. So how are you?" Bryson asked. He was constantly worried about his mother and he knew how stressful things were, always wondering what she was doing or how her life was.
His mom gave a deep sigh in response and it felt like a punch to the gut to Bryson. He knew it was unrealistic, but he was hoping that just for once that maybe things would be looking up.
"Look.. I won't beat around the bush. Your scripts.. I mean.. they keep getting rejected... your sister... is in New York.. in her own little world. And my job.. it's not enough to keep us alfoat.. at all. Which is why I called you.. I wanted to let you know that.. I'm selling the house." She confided.
Bryson was a bit taken aback. The house he had lived in since he was four years old was getting sold?
He felt himself twinge, his heart sinking when she mentioned his rejected scripts. They both knew it was hard to get a studio to accept a script from a complete unknown, but Bryson felt large twinges of guilt all throughout his body.
He knew it was his fault. Making the quick decision to move all the way out from Tennessee to California just to send in scripts that would never be sold.
He cleared his throat. "Oh.. wow.. you're.. you're really selling the place?"
"Yes.. I.. I had no choice, really. I didn't want to.. really. I didn't.. but.. with how your father has been growing sicker and sicker with each passing day.. with the lack of money from my job and everything it's just.. I need to do this. Your sister already fought me on this, so please don't delve into it, it's not like you or your sister are even here to be in the house, just please. I need to do this in exchange for your father's treatment. I can't afford it otherwise."
Bryson could tell how upset she was, how almost.. bitter she sounded, shooting down any argument immediately, which Bryson couldn't really blame her for. If his sister had already given her a hard time over it, he wasn't gonna chime in and make it worse. His mom had too much going on to be stressed about that.
"Okay, okay. I won't. I promise. You have enough on your plate. Don't worry about it. Hey. You do what you need to, alright?" Bryson assured her, sounding as calm and soft for as he could.
"Alright.. thank you." His mom sighed out, seeming relieved at his words. "Um.. listen. There was another reason I called you. I wa-"
Suddenly, Bryson could hear some coughs in the background.
"Oh god, I have to go. I need to take care of your father."
Bryson gave a worried look and his mind feared the worst. "Is he.. is he okay?!"
"Yes.. yes. He's okay, he's okay... I mean. You know.. as okay as he can be.. just another coughing fit. Listen, I'll call you back later. You're busy anyways. I love you."
"I love you too, mom." He said, the sincere nature of his words clear in his voice.
With that, his mother had hung up and he sighed.
Selling the house?
He had a lot of bad memories of that house, with how he had grown up with an abusive father.. but he also had good ones, ones of studying Oz in his room, of playing with Lucky, his beloved dog who he still missed dearly, still concerned about him and his health, just as much as he was with his father's, which have seemed strange, but he valued animals in the same regard as he valued humans, especially after going to Oz and seeing talking animals that behaved just the same as humans, such as the close companion he had made on his journey, Finley.
But aside from all that, that was the house he had fled from all those years ago, into the old, broken down farm before the twister swept him up.
He didn't want the house to be sold, all his old memories being practically auctioned off, but his mother had to do what she had to do.
Besides, he was still shaken up about his recent discoveries of Oz with his Professor, still needing to look up more about the story, and also worrying about Tommy.
He realized he now needed to see Tommy. He had kept him waiting long enough.
Just as he was about to ask the doctors for permission to enter Tommy's room, he heard some heels clicking quickly against the floor and turned his head to see a woman speed walking over to the desk, breathing heavily.
"Hi, yes! Was there a little boy brought in here recently?" The woman asked, a worrisome and panic striken tone clear in her voice.
"Oh, yes a-" The nurse at the desk began before being interuptted by the woman.
"Kinda longish blonde hair? Blue eyes?!" She asked, exclaiming and desperate for answers.
The woman was talking about Tommy.
Bryson was a bit surprised, wondering who this woman could be that knew Tommy. Nevertheless, he was relieved to see there was seemingly someone else in Tommy's life who cared about him.
"Yes, ma'am." The nurse at the desk responded.
"Is his name Tommy Davis?" The woman asked, slowing her breathing and visibly trying to calm herself down.
Bryson listened in even closer as his suspicions were confirmed that this woman was in fact looking for Tommy.
"Uh, yes ma'am. Ma'am, how do you know this boy?"
"I'm his aunt! My name is Claire Davis. Listen, I need to know if my nephew is okay! Is he okay?!" The woman exclaimed, her desperation drawing a few stares from people around the room.
"I'll che-"
"I need to know right now, damn it!" The woman yelped, lightly pounding her fist into the desk, the nurse jolting back in surprise for a minute.
Bryson knew he had to interfere and let the woman knew what he knew, knowing what it was like to be in a panic from the frequent attacks he had suffered from when he was younger.
He walked over, approaching the woman. He looked at her for a second and quickly took her in.
The woman, who apparently was Tommy's aunt, was dressed in a black business jacket and pink button up shirt, complete with a black skirt and high inch heels, Bryson figuring she must have been in business or have some sort of office job.
Looking at her, she must have been in her mid 20's, maybe early 30's at the most, Bryson presumed.
Physically, she had a very buxom figure, Bryson noticed.
She had fiery red hair, which was an instantly captivating feature, and her hair was in a shorter bob, complete with light blue eyes and plump pink lips. Overall, she was quite attractive, Bryson thought.
Bryson looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat. "I know what happened to him. Doctors told me they drew some blood and ran a CAT scan on him, something like that. He has a bump on his head. May be result of a seizure. He's been awake and out again.. last time I checked, he was awake." Bryson explained.
As Bryson spoke, Claire instantly snapped her head in his direction, her blue eyes pouring into him and listening in on every word, scanning him like a machine, her mouth wide open.
"How do you.. how do you know all of this? Do... do you.. do you work here?" She asked, looking him over, seemingly trying to spot some sort of badge or something to show he was a worker here.
"Uh, no. no." Bryson said, gesturing for her to walk with him away from the desk, walking along the hallway very slowly with her. "I met Tommy recently and-"
"You did?! How do you know him?" Claire interrupted, clearly desperate and anxious for answers.
"Well, maybe a month or so ago, I was walking and I came across him. He was getting picked on by these kids and I helped him. I bumped into him again later on.. and today I got a call saying that Tommy Davis was in the hospital and that when they asked if he knew anybody who could come, he mentioned me. So here I am." Bryson explained.
Claire looked at him for a second, seemingly dumbfounded. "He... mentioned you? But.. I don't.. I.." She sighed, staring down at the white and squeaky clean hospital floor, stuffing her hand in her face for a moment before turning her attention back to Bryson. "I haven't been there like I should have.. it's my fault. I've tried, it's just... ugh. And it's just hitting me now. Like a ton of bricks." She spurted out, shaking her head, seemingly at herself, visibly disappointed in herself.
Bryson understood how she felt. Just now he felt as if he hadn't been there enough for his own family.
"I know how that feels.."
Claire pursed her lips a little, giving a small sigh and shrugging, giving him a half hearted smile. "I gotta say.. thanks you.. so much. For looking out for him, though. Really. At least someone has been there for him. I don't know what I would do if something happened to him.." She breathed out, biting her lip and looking off at the distance, seeming distraught at the very idea.
The woman was cleary distressed as she moved some of her fiery red hair away from her face.
"Don't mention it. But I mean... hey. Don't worry about it. I've felt like I haven't been there enough for my family myself. I'm sure you have your own reasons." Bryson told her, wanting to comfort the red head.
She gave another shrug.
"Oh!" She chuckled out, giving herself a bump on the head. "I didn't catch your name, I don't think."
"Bryson Scott." He greeted with a warm smile, offering his hand to shake.
Claire stopped for a bit as if her name was familar to her. She simply gave a smile once she seemed to realize she was giving an odd look and shook his hand back. "Claire Davis."
She paused for a moment, chewing on her lips, seemingly in thought. "I have to ask.. have you seen Scott around whenever you've been with Tommy?"
Bryson squinted. He didn't know a 'Scott.' It was his last name, but he didn't actually know anybody with that name.
Claire seemed to notice his confused expression and quickly corrected herself. "Oh, yeah. Scott.. that's.. Tommy's dad." She explained, looking down at the floor again, once again chewing on her lips. It seemed to be a nervous habit of hers, Bryson noted.
Bryson thought about it for a second and suddenly remembered it. "Oh, yes. Just one time.. he had come home and..." Bryson paused, thinking back to how strange Tommy's father seemed.
Being a victim of his own father's abuse, Bryson suddenly thought of something. What if Tommy's dad was the person that brought this on?
He shuddered at the thought.
He hated seeing kids abused or mistreated.
Not only did he know how it felt, but he also couldn't stand to see any innocent creature of any kind in harm.
"He's not always home." Claire suddenly remarked, breaking Bryson from his train of thought and causing him to look at her. "Sometimes he leaves for days at a time.." She trailed off.
Bryson shuddered.
This child was a victim of neglect and probably abuse as well, based on how offstandish Tommy's father had acted in their previous brief interaction.
He had assumed in that moment that he was just letting his mind play tricks on him.. assuming the worst because of his own history.
He should have listened to his own intuition, he mused.
"Claire." Bryson started in an extremely serious tone.
She seemed to respond instantly, a look of nervousness in her eyes as she slowly looked up at him, her mouth open in anticipation.
"I have my suspicions that Tommy is being abused." He stated upfront.
Claire seemed to have a hint of guilt in her blue eyes and she slowly nodded, wrapping her hands together to fiddle with her thumbs nervously. "It.. that is true. Yes." She stated, clearing his throat.
Bryson took a deep breath and stepped back.
He could see himself in Tommy.
An innocent, shy young kid.. that seemed to like Oz based on the book he carried with him.. with an abusive father.
He hated this situation and all he wanted to do was help.
Ever since he had gotten back from Oz, he wanted to help constantly. It was like second nature to him at this point, a sharp contrast to the young, timid boy he once was.
"Ever since my sister died.." Claire began suddenly, clearing his throat. "My sister being his wife.." she clarified before continuing, a lump forming in her throat, causing her to clear it again.
"Ever since she passed.." she repeated, seeming to struggle with telling the story. "Scott's been like this. My sister.. Karen.. she.. she lost a battle with cancer when Tommy was just five. And ever since then, Scott has been punishing him for it."
Bryson looked at the ground. He had heard a few sad stories the past few weeks, with the lost boys of Tennessee who vanished, to the boy who an abusive family (and wound up going to Oz - something Bryson was still eager to get to the bottom of), this was the most heartbreaking. It wasn't in the past, nor was there any happiness or any real glimmer of hope. It was happening now.
And it also reminded him of his father who also had the horrible disease.
The thought of his father passing like Tommy's mother horrified him.
"I don't know how it happened, either.." Claire stated, her voice trailing off, her head turned, facing the wall, her eyes filling up with a small yet visible amount of tears. "Scott had been the nicest guy. He was so good to my sister.. and he had been a good dad, too! It just.. the whole thing. It brought out the worst in him." Claire explained, turning her back to Bryson.
"It's funny.. how one thing can make a good person snap." Bryson mused.
His mind instantly went to his old foe, Rabadan. How he had been a good person turned into a monster when Glinda sent him back to the real world, to the war.
"I know.. he.. he isn't the man my sister fell in love with, that's for sure." She spat out, bitterness clear in her voice. She had gone from a more weak voice to a bitter, slightly angry one. "My sister would be so ashamed.."
Bryson thought about it all for a second.
"I don't understand, though. If you know about all this abuse.. why don't you do something? Call the cops.. or try to take him to a safe place? Legally, of course."
Claire seemed guilty once more.
"I know.. I've been trying to call the cops but.. I just.. I'm so scared to. I'm worried he'll find out and hurt both me and my nephew."
Bryson wasn't going to judge her.
After all, when he was 14, he left his mother to be assaulted by his father.
It took his trip to Oz to gain the realization he needed to step up to the plate in these siutations.
He wasn't Oz, but maybe he could help Claire realize what he himself had learned.
"I know he's still grieving, but that doesn't give him the right to use my sister's death as an excuse to mistreat Tommy. When Tommy's discharged, I'm going to legally adopt him and give him the life my sister would want him to have." She said in confidence with a nod, sucking in on her lip and clasping her hands together. "I've never been a parent or a gurdian.. but I could do it for him." She said, determined.
Bryson smiled widely.
Maybe she already had it figured out after all.
He just hoped it could be resolved soon.
He would step in if he had to.
But at the same time, he did feel twinges of guilt.
Tommy had already lost his mother. He didn't want his father to be taken away too. But if it had to come to it, it had to come to it.
Suddenly, a nurse emerged into the waiting room.
"Mr. Scott? Mrs. Davis? He's awake again."
Claire shuddered and lifted up her chin, her posture showing more pose and confidence now.
She turned to Bryson. "We should go see him."
Bryson agreed and they slowly approached the young boy's room.
It was so nice to see Tommy again, Bryson thought. His longer blonde hair had dipped into his face and his blue eyes.
Claire instantly rushed over to her nephew, leaning down to be on level with the hospital bed.
"Tommy! It's me, it's me. It's Aunt Claire! I'm here now. I am so, so sorry!" She exclaimed, tears falling down her face as she wrapped her arms around the boy through the bed, clutching to him and cupping his face, looking back to stare at him. "Ugh, yes. You're here. You're alive." She said, her voice cracking as she yanked the young boy into a tight hug.
Tommy was clearly still dazed, but nevertheless, seemed happy to see her. "Aunt Claire! You're here." He mumbled into her.
"Yes, I'm here, sweetie. Shh lay back and relax." Claire ordered, Tommy happily obliging as Clarie's bottom lip trembled, her hand reaching over to stroke along Tommy's arm, petting through his hair, shaking her head. "How could I let this happen.." she whispered to herself.
"It's okay, Aunt Claire." Tommy mumbled lazily. "Can I have some water?" He requested with a soft, light voice.
"Yes, honey, of course, of course!" She responded, turning over to the nurse who nodded, coming back in just a few seconds with a small cup of water.
Bryson couldn't but give a small smile. It was bittersweet, but Tommy really was a sweet kid.
He didn't deserve any of this.
After a few more moments passed, Bryson decided to take a seat in the corner of the room, across Tommy's bed, Claire scooting a chair right next to his bed. He decided to keep his distance and not impose on the family reunion, wondering if he should leave soon to give them space or if he would be viewed as an extra help.
Claire and Tommy engaged in some small talk. The typical kind of conversation expected between a young boy and his aunt.
"Aunt Claire.. can we turn on the TV?" Tommy asked weakly.
"Of course, baby." Claire said sweetly, searching for the remote eagerly on the table, picking it up and squinting as she tried to figure out how to work it, aiming it at the TV.
The TV was an average size, the typical kind you would find in any average family home. Nothing too fancy, but also more well set up than what many hospitals probably had, Bryson being grateful that Tommy was lucky enough to be placed in this room.
The TV was stuck on a table towards the middle of the room, mainly angled towards Bryson's direction, but Tommy and Claire could both easily see it themselves.
Claire would flip through it, asking Tommy softly what he'd like to watch, landing on various cartoons.
Bryson, with his lack of sleep due to stress of school and staying up late doing his Oz research, along with the mental exhausation from all the stress from his family, slumped in his chair and his eyes began to shut.
...
"Why, Zeke, - you're just as scared as I am!"
Bryson immediately opened his eyes and sat up in his chair.
He knew that voice anywhere.
That familar, rich, vibrant, yet vintage voice, with a hint of a Kansas, 1930's accent anywhere.
He snapped his head around the room in an excited and confused manner.
Where did that voice come from?
He continued snapping his head around the hospital room until his eyes landed on the TV.
Bryson squinted, confused for a second before it all made sense. He recognized that old sepia tone anywhere.
On the TV was Dorothy Gale.
It was always amazing to him. Seeing her again.
This definitely was not the first time he had watched the movie since his trip from Oz.
In fact, he had went back and watched it just a week after, his mind blown after realizing he really went there.
He had watched it several times after, in fact. At least a few times a year, until the past year where he had just become too busy.
And perhaps was trying to avoid the breakdown that might occur after fully viewing it.
As much as he researched Oz, there was something about watching this particular film that just did something to him.
It was the first time he had seen it since leaving Tennessee.
On the screen, Dorothy had just got taken out of the pig sty by the three farmhands of the movie. Hunk, Hickory, and Zeke. Bryson knew it by heart at this point. It was burned into his brain.
He watched Dorothy move, his mouth suddenly going agape.
God, she was mesmerizing to watch.
He frequently would watch videos of Garland whenever he could.
Both from his own fascination but also due to the fact it was the closest he could get to seeing Dorothy again.
He wished he could see her in real life and know how she was doing, assuming she existed.
It always put him in a trance, watching the late songstress, but there was something about watching her as Dorothy in particular. It never felt like he was watching the actress, it felt like he was seeing his old friend's adventure play out in front of him.
He wished she were still alive. If she perhaps knew her character was off in some other realm using her exact same apperance from when she was younger.
He decided to not go into questioning it again and to just watch the screen in bewilderment.
How could someone so pure and so flawless ever exist?
He watched as Dorothy continued to talk to the farmhands, anxiously telling everyone she could about the mean ole' Mrs. Gultch trying to take Toto away from her.
He knew every line. It was as easy as breathing to him.
"Oh, I see you're up." A voice called out to him.
He turned over in surprise.
He completely forgot that Claire and Tommy were there. He had just gotten up and had been to focused on the TV.
Claire had greeted him. She was still in the same chair, her arm wrapped around her nephew.
It was endearing to see how close they were right now.
"Don't worry, you were only out for about 30 minutes or so? We just stumbled across this. His favorite movie." Claire beamed, pointing to the TV with the remote, kissing Tommy's head and patting his back, Tommy beaming up at her, although lazily. He was still visibly lazy from all that had happened but he still seemed happy, something Bryson was very glad to see.
Tommy looked on with a glisten in his eyes and Bryson couldn't help but grin in amazement.
Years later, Oz entranced kids all over the world, it seemed.
It was the same kind of bliss and wonderment Bryson felt all those years ago whenever he looked at Oz or anything relating to it.
It was such a charming sight and it made him forget about all the bad around him.
"Yeah.. mine too, actually." Bryson said softly.
"Oh, really?! See, Tommy? It's Bryson's favorite, too." She said with a nod.
Tommy looked over and gave Bryson a shy smile.
This was such a nice moment, Bryson thought. He wished he could stay in this moment forever and not have to come back down to the real world.
It seemed even when he wasn't actually in Oz, it found a way to sweep him up from the real world and make him forget about everything for a while.
Suddenly, everything began to stop as everyone focused on the movie.
"Now, Dorothy, dear. Stop imagining things. You always get yourself into a fret over nothing." Auntie Em's more shrill and old voice scolded.
Bryson felt as if those words rang true to his current Oz situation.
Once again, he could completely and totally relate to Dorothy.
Dorothy didn't feel as if anyone understood her.
I understand you, Dorothy Bryson thought to himself. He felt a bit silly. Yes, this was an 80 year old movie, but he had just seen her five years ago. It felt more real to him.
He still felt that no matter how many people he met, only the farm girl he had known for a few days understood him completely.
He wondered if she felt the same way.
Bryson, Claire, and Tommy all seemed to focus in more on the movie as Dorothy began her little monolouge to her dog, Toto.
Bryson knew what was after this and he always greatly anticipated it. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Some place where there isn't any trouble." Dorothy mused on the TV screen, tossing her dog a piece of food, walking around, her lips pouty. "Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be...it's not a place you can get to by a boat.. or a train."
Bryson listened in closely, leaning in forward closer to the TV.
"It's far, far away."
Bryson was almost ready to tear up, realizing further how much this whole sequence resembled his current situation.
"Beyond the moon... beyond the rain."
Bryson looked in closely at Dorothy's big doe eyes, filled with enchantment and innocence.. wonder and longing for something more filling them.
"Tell me, Dorothy." Bryson whispered to himself, his hands placed on his cheeks as he watched on.
Suddenly, the farm girl on the screen began to sing and Bryson closed his eyes for a second, sighing in content, completely in bliss.
"Somewhere.. over the rainbow... way up high." Dorothy began to sing.
As soon as she started singing, a single tear fell down Bryson's face.
"There's a land that I heard of.. once.. in a lullaby."
Dorothy began to swing around the farm equipment as she sang, something Bryson always found so charming and loveable, eating up every little second on screen.
"Somewhere over the rainbow.. skies are blue... and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.."
Her singing voice truly was the most gorgeous sound he had ever heard. So angelic, so full and emotional. She was a teenager but her voice was much too strong for her own age, adding to the magic.
Dorothy started swinging on the wheel of the rake, walking forward around it. Toto sat on the rake and Dorothy reached over to pet him as she sang, Bryson mesmerized by every small little movement.
"Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are behind me... where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops.. that's where you'll find me. Somewhere.. over the rainbow. Bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow.. why then... oh, why can't I?"
This was the part of the song that killed him, Bryson thought.
As Dorothy sat there, Bryson was enchanted by her doe eyes and her voice.
Every word was ringing so true to him.
He wanted to get out of here. Out of this hell hole known as earth.
He wondered why he even left Oz for a brief moment.
Yes, he had to to see his family again, but there was still that part of him that wished it could have been done another way.
He was trying to beyond his own hurdle and get to his own rainbow.
And as Dorothy sang, it was if he was back with her and they were discussing Oz again, how much they related to each other and took the words out of each other's mouths.
He just wanted that again.
"If happy little bluebirds fly... beyond the rainbow... why, oh, why.. can't I?"
With that, the song concluded, Dorothy with her wide eyed look, nuzzling against Toto, Bryson's heart feeling full and his stomach in knots.
He looked over at Tommy who had leaked a few tears.
He couldn't help but smile a little. This song always seemed to have that effect on people.
It truly was the most magical song he had ever heard.
Suddenly, the movie was interruptted by commercial break. This annoyed Bryson a bit, but he supposed he did need a break to take everything in, shaking his head and stretching in his chair.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I brought your book." Claire suddenly said at the commercial break begain, turning to Tommy, pulling out a yellow book with big red text over it.
Bryson looked over curiously for a second and almost gasped when he saw the title.
"THE SCARECROW OF OZ."
Bryson felt his body explode.
On the cover was The Scarecrow.
He had that familar woozy burlap face and abnormally long and skinny straw limbs, making him stretch out in an awkward position.
Memories of checking out the same book in a library years ago flooded his brain.
Brain. How ironic, he mused.
He remembered actually meeting The Scarecrow. His favorite companion of the bunch. He didn't look quite as eccentric as what was on the cover, almost identical to his movie design. Bryson wondered why different designs in the land he had visited differed.
This was so strange, he thought, as he looked at the book.
Oz really had been following him everywhere.
He couldn't help but feel some kind of force of the universe was trying to send him a message.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
He remembered suddenly he really needed to look up more about this whole 'Aiden Parker' situation, the boy who had, according to the story told by Professor Walker, traveled to Oz.
As he took out his phone, he began to search the name, but was instead met with a notification.
"GRADES UPDATED."
It was a notification for the app the school used to let students see their grades.
Bryson gulped.
His heart almost raced a little and he feared to see what his were.
He closed his eyes as he clicked on the notification, his phone loading up the screen for the grades.
He slowly opened one eye, than the other.. aaaaand...
He was failing two classes.
He had a 50 in one class and a 54 in the other.
His others were all C's with the exception of two A's. Film studies and English.
His heart sank.
It was November. Only a month left to pick up his grades before the semester was over.
Once again, time was his enemy.
He couldn't believe it.
He had only failed one class in his life, Math in the fifth grade, but even that was only for one segment for the year, and didn't matter nearly as much.
He had moved exactly 2 159.5 miles to abandon his family, his father and dog sick, to go to some university he wasn't even happy in where he was gonna fail two classes and waste all the money anyways.
Bryson sighed and ruffled through his hair, beyond frustrated.
Had he not been so desensitized to shock with all that had happened recently, it may have had a bigger impact on him, but nevertheless, it still put a lot on his already large plate.
"Can I just have one break.." he mumbled, looking up at the sky as if he would be given an answer.
"Something wrong?" Claire asked as she began to read Tommy the Scarecrow book during the commercials, Bryson noticing. Had it not been a more private moment, he would have come to take a look himself.
"No.. I mean.. well. Yeah. Just school stuff.. but it's no big deal.. there's more important things going on right now." He said to her, lying at first as he had just been used to pretending to be okay when he wasn't.
But there were more important things going on. Oz, of course, but he was also still deeply concerned for Tommy. Yes, he had been awake and seemed okay, but he couldn't help himself. The boy was still clearly weak and Bryson wanted to make sure he was alright.
Claire eyed Tommy. "He's getting tired. I think I should try and see if he needs to get some rest.. then get more info from the doctors. I still don't know exactly what happened."
"Tommy. Come here a second, love." Claire urged softly, Tommy reaching towards his aunt with a yawn.
"Somewhere... over the rainbow..." Claire began to sing softly.
Bryson couldn't help but smile. It wasn't like his Dorothy, but it still sounded nice and it was relaxing to him.
He couldn't help but fall asleep along with Tommy at the comforting lullaby.
"If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow.. why, oh why, can't I?"
And with that, Bryson's eyes began to falter once more.
The dream that was beginning to form in his brain would prove to be a very crucial part of his journey.