Chapter Five
DG was on a mission.
It was early on the first day of the cycle, and unlike most other days, this was a special day. It had taken over five annuals, but finally, the Ozian Market had returned to Central City. There had been many grand reopenings, dedications, and rebuilding ceremonies to attend since the fall of the Sorceress, and DG and Azkadelia generally performed most functions together. Today, however, was a day just for her. Azkadelia had never been quite as enamored with the market as DG had been, and besides that, security was a concern, or so Wyatt had reminded them both, so DG had graciously accepted her grand-marshal duties without her sister for once.
As usual, Wyatt had slid out of the bed before the suns were even up, and coffee had conspicuously appeared on her side table before she'd even realized he was gone. This suited DG fine, for she'd wanted to search her closet for something special to wear that day without Wyatt's prying eyes distracting her; she wanted something specific that might spark the Tin Man's memory.
"There's no way he forgot," DG mumbled to herself as she marched into the closet and flicked the light on with an absent wave of her hand.
It didn't take long for DG to be discovered, for as soon as she'd plopped down onto the floor in front of a massive oaken chest, two-year-old Lizzie toddled in, rubbing sleep out of her eye with one hand while she dragged her teddy bear behind her with the other hand. The toddler's shoulder-length curls were of a bright platinum like Wyatt's, with exception of wildness reminiscent of her mother's dark tresses. DG grinned at her small daughter, noting that after sleeping hard for eight hours straight, those wild curls always seemed to stick out at odd angles by morning, making Lizzie's chubby face appear as if it were framed in bright flames. In another nod to DG, she was in nothing more than her underwear and a t-shirt when she plopped down on the floor, and her blue eyes became quickly wide with wonder when she watched her mother swing the massive trunk open.
"Whatcha doing mommy?" Lizzie asked in polite curiosity, her eyes following DG's movements closely as she pulled one item after the next out of the trunk.
DG paused to smile on her daughter, and she placed a soft kiss among the girl's messy curls before she replied brightly, "Mommy is on a scavenger hunt for something very special. Can you guess what I might be looking for?"
DG scanned Lizzie's round face. This was a frequent hobby of DG's anyway, as she just couldn't ever seem to absorb how heartbreakingly adorable her own offspring was, no matter how many times she looked on her. Being only two, Lizzie's little face and body were just beginning to leave behind her toddler days, and were still somewhat squeezable and plump, and she was seldom without an expression of marvel on her face. There were times, however, that her expression would darken with concentration, and when this happened, her usually crystalline eyes would darken to aquamarine. This happened frequently, first when DG and Wyatt had coached her through her basic milestones, and now as she began to make sense out of the big world around her.
Everything was a puzzle it seemed, and Lizzie was always eager to solve it. It was as if Wyatt and DG's natural proclivity for problem solving had been distilled in her, and she frequently breezed through the riddles placed before her like she was playing a game. This morning was no different, and once again, DG sat back to enjoy watching how her daughter's mind worked.
Lizzie scanned what she could see of the trunk's contents with her eyes and found a random smattering of odd trinkets littered among various articles of clothing made haphazard by annuals of being shoved around. "I don't think it's a toy," Lizzie answered in near sadness, but her eyes hadn't even turned one shade darker when she added hopefully, "Is it for dress-up mommy?"
Lizzie's little face turned upward to rest on her mother's, and DG tried has hard as could not to smile. It was useless, though, for the small girl could always detect her mother's delight bubbling out of her. When Lizzie's face morphed into her own variation of joy, DG finally let go of her grin, and she laughed as she ruffled her daughter's hair.
"You caught me, Lizzie." DG replied playfully, and she added with a sigh, "but I can't find it anyway. Do you want to look for me while I put my other clothes on?"
Lizzie's eyes were wide and her face serious when she nodded back, and DG patted her head encouragingly before she scrambled into a standing position. DG watched her daughter put herself directly in front of the chest, and she smirked at how carefully she placed her teddy bear into sitting next to her before she focused on her task. With that, DG took one final note of the lid, being silently sure with a flick of her light that it would not budge from its position before she turned on a heel and marched to the other side of the closet, satisfied that her daughter would be fine while her back was turned.
Lizzie's eyes scanned the surface contents of the deep trunk, which to her, seemed almost like an ocean of colorful clothes and mementos. To the small girl, it felt as if she'd stumbled across a treasure trove, and each individual article was a precious piece of the marvelous picture that was her beloved mother. Lizzie fashioned herself an anthropologist in how she extracted one piece at a time, pausing to examine it before she placed it gingerly on the floor at her side, before returning to the cavernous depths for yet another gem. A child's apron covered in grease and paint came first, then an old porcelain doll in a green dress. Next, a picture book of flowers, a half-finished knitting project, and a worn-out sketch pad emerged and joined the rest on the floor. While these all delighted the girl, and her cheeks steadily became a rosy pink from the amount of smiling she did, none made her nearly as awestruck as the next articles to emerge. Being near the bottom of the truck, Lizzie could easily understand how they might be missed, but she had one unique ability that her mother seemed to lack. For some reason, articles otherwise lost or missed by others seemed to gleam in the little girl's eye, as if they were lit from the inside, and especially so when she put her mind to the task of finding them. She didn't even need a description of the lost item, for they would always make themselves known to her, almost like they wanted to be found.
In this instance, there were two such items that seemed to set the bottom of the trunk aglow, and Lizzie was very nearly giggling in excitement as she withdrew them from their confines. The first was a pale, blue lace dress that looked almost like it might fit her. Lizzie couldn't help herself, and tore her night shirt off, and stood up from the chest long enough to pull the found article over her head. It was long, but not so long that she couldn't see her bare feet wiggling in the deep pile of the carpet, and the flouncy shoulders felt like soft clouds in how they puffed up to try and reach her cheeks. Although somewhat big on her, the dress was near enough to her size that Lizzie jumped up and down excitedly, feeling as if she'd won a prize.
"Mommy, look, I'm pretty!" Lizzie proclaimed to DG, spinning in slow circles so a bell seemed to form around her legs.
Her enthusiasm was catching, and DG could no more hold a delighted laugh than she could forgo her usual caffeine ritual and stood transfixed while she watched her daughter's dance. When Lizzie slowed to a stop, DG stepped forward and replied with a happy sigh, "You look just like Alice in Wonderland, Lizzie, but may I help a little?"
Lizzie nodded her head eagerly and held her arms out as if she knew what was about to happen. DG seemed to accept this as common place, and hardly provided a reaction before she pointed in her daughter's direction, causing the material to shrink until the garment fit Lizzie perfectly. The small child was delighted, and beamed at her mother, while still standing absolutely still. DG, in turn, smiled in satisfaction, and she mentally calculated that the girl would only need a hairbrush, tights and shoes at this point. Then she frowned to herself; she herself would still need a bit more help than Lizzie, and she still hadn't found what she'd been looking for in the first place.
"Mommy, I found something for you too," Lizzie replied, almost as if she'd heard her mother's thoughts. She turned simultaneously to the trunk behind her, causing DG to gasp when she produced the second article that had attracted her attention.
DG gingerly removed the scarf from her daughter's small hands, and she clutched it to her chest before she stuck her nose to the fabric and inhaled deeply. Somehow, the sunset-shaded scarf still smelled like the apples that Emma had packed into her basket with it on her last visit to the market, so many annuals ago. It had been just a cycle after she'd successfully pushed Cain and Addy together, and she remembered that Emma had been oddly wistful when they'd reconnected that day, almost as if she knew that they would never see each other again.
"Mommy, are you okay?" Lizzie's small, sweet voice whispered, sounding concerned as she tugged on her mother's jacket.
DG's clouded sight cleared, and she shook her head slightly before looking down on her daughter, and then she smiled, remembering that she'd worn that very dress on the first day that she'd met Addy and Cain. It was almost as if the girl knew just how important today was to her.
"Yes, sweet girl, I'm fine," DG replied, and her smile became playfully serious when swept the scarf around her neck and added, "now why don't we go surprise Daddy, and get completely ready. He'll be so shocked that he'll fall over!"
Lizzie giggled, and skipped after her mother, who had already begun marching out of the closet as if she was some cartoonish band leader.
Elsewhere, the Tin Man was finishing his morning shower. As he stepped out of the stall, he gazed around the room in a near daze, realizing that he had been so wrapped up in his thoughts, that the room had become fogged over with a thick cloud of steam, and the fixtures were similarly dewy and clouded. He towel-dried quickly and only paused when he stood before the vanity, nearly forgetting why he'd stopped here in the first place despite holding his hairbrush in his hand.
Time is a funny thing, Wyatt mused silently, knowing that the moment he swiped the mirror clean of the steam, he'd once again be met with a much younger face than he expected.
He stepped back from the sink for a moment and took a deep breath before he did the math; two annuals since he married DG, four annuals since the eclipse and just as much time since he was released from the iron suit, thirteen annuals since he was imprisoned in the suit, and twenty four annuals since he'd first met DG, playing a game of hide and seek with her uncle at the Ozian Market. Wyatt sighed loudly after he worked it out for the thousandth time and he stepped forward to swipe the mirror and study his own face, now prepared for what he'd see: a healthy, thirty-five-annuals man in place of the weathered forty-four annuals he was supposed to have been. Wyatt tightened the towel around his bare waist and tilted his head to examine not only his face, but his entire reflection, deciding that this was at least one tradeoff he could live with. One might have expected the man to be accustomed to his own image, but the truth of it was that in the first annual of being released, Wyatt so seldom looked at himself in a mirror. It had been difficult to accept the fact that he hadn't aged at all during his time in the suit, and no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his stony expression, he had not been ready to face his new normal. After all, it had seemed unfair to the memory of his wife that he should remain so young while she would have begun growing old; and that he had been given a new lease on life, while Addy had lost hers. On top it that, it had been a difficult prospect for him to admit he might be falling in love with someone so much younger, except for the obvious truth, that she really wasn't. Not anymore.
Twenty-four annuals ago, he would never have guessed that he would be where he was now, and although he suspected that the Mystic Man had known all along, he was grateful that he had never told him what was coming. Either he would have believed Matthew, and he might have tried to change the outcome, or he would have thought the man had lost his mind, and their friendship could have been wrecked. Neither possibility was any more palatable than the reality, and although he had lost much in how things had truly worked out, he had gained so much more too. Adora had loved DG besides, and he was certain that she would have been thrilled to have a kindred spirit at his side since she couldn't be.
It was his return to the memories of twenty-four annuals ago that finally spurred the Tin Man, however, and he suddenly stopped his idle pondering and swiped his pocket watch off the counter. "Shit," Wyatt muttered under his breath as he gauged the time, "we're going to be late."
Wyatt turned then from the mirror while he still grasped the watch tightly in his hand, and he marched out of the bathroom, intent on determining what had become of his spritely wife and daughter. After pausing in his closet to throw on his usual uniform, Wyatt exited to his office, which was silent as a grave. He did not pause here but moved instead to the sitting room beyond the French doors, which was equally quiet. It was so still, that one might have been able to hear a pin drop, and while this should have made any busy parent sigh in relief for the opportunity of solitude, Wyatt could not help his natural suspicion. The combination of professional experience and fatherhood made Wyatt's hair stand on end, and instead of finishing his trek across the space to their bedroom, Wyatt paused to let his ears do the walking instead. Then he heard it; the muffled giggles of his two women, faint for the distance, and not in the direction he'd been walking. Wyatt's hand dropped then from the door before him, and he strode instead towards the front of the sitting room, where Lizzie's nursery door stood cracked open.
Pushing through the door brought warm light streaming onto Wyatt's face, and simultaneously, a happy grin replaced his usual neutral expression. For in the middle of the floor, DG and Lizzie stood, completing the task of getting ready for the day. DG was crouched before their daughter, strapping her glossy black shoes to her feet, while Lizzie had been rearranging a headband upon her neatly brushed curls, and both were smiling as if a rather funny joke had just been uttered. Wyatt was admittedly shocked at the sight, and part of his wide grin was due to the complete surprise of not having to chide either of them into movement.
Wyatt cleared his throat when neither of them seemed to notice him, and his deep baritone voice startled them both into turning in his direction. "Is it Father's Day and I missed the memo?" Wyatt asked in a warm, joking manner.
DG stood from her position and smirked before she swept forward to offer him a sweet peck on the lips. "No silly," She replied, "we just didn't want to be late today. What do you think of our outfits?"
Wyatt hadn't even bothered to notice their outfits yet, still finding himself entranced by DG's lips, and his eyes sparkled down on hers when he returned her kiss. DG stepped away from him then, causing him to sigh in mild disappointment before he inspected them as requested. Somehow, spying DG's rather expectant looking expression, he could tell that just telling them they were pretty would not be enough, and he smiled coyly at her before he uttered a word.
In truth, DG was always beautiful to him whether dressed or not, so it hardly needed to be said that when she wore anything remotely form fitting, he was smitten. This time, the uniform consisted of a form fitting pair of jeans and a teal blouse, over which she'd pulled on a blue blazer and multi-colored scarf. Wyatt's eyes narrowed on the scarf, and he finally had to say something, sounding somewhat curious when he spoke.
"Did I give this to you?" He asked as his hand reached out to finger the edge of the delicate scarf, letting his hands run along the fine woven threads like he was reintroducing himself to it.
DG shook her head in abject silence, causing the Tin Man's curious expression to morph into skeptical displeasure. Without a doubt, between DG's expression, and the very obvious addition of her dress on Lizzie's little body meant that she was toying with him, daring him to fess up to something that he'd been reluctant to admit. It hardly seemed the time, however, with Lizzie eyeing them both in curiosity, and Wyatt flashed DG a knowing wink before he answered brightly.
"You are both so dazzling, that I think I might go blind," Wyatt exclaimed to the ceiling, and he dropped onto his knees while throwing his hands to his face. "Lizzie, help me, I can't see you!" He cried in false alarm, causing the little girl to erupt in giggles.
"Daddy!" Lizzie chided her father, and she tackled him with a rather DG-like hug as she spoke, which caused the man to wrap his arms around her with a hearty laugh and swing her into the air as he rose with her.
Wyatt placed a gentle peck on his daughter's cheek when she'd settled onto his hip, and his eyes sparkled when he replied honestly to her, "You're beautiful, Lizzie."
Lizzie held her father's face in her little hands, and she searched his eyes seriously. "As pretty as mommy?" She interrogated him quietly.
"As pretty as mommy," Wyatt confirmed solemnly, and he turned them towards DG and stretched his neck out to kiss DG once more.
DG's eyes smiled even when she didn't, and he could tell by how they glistened how truly happy she was in that moment. It was almost as if she was committing the scene to memory, and her voice was somewhat cracked when she asked suggestively, "Are you guys ready to go?"
Lizzie nodded her head resolutely, offering her mother an emphatic "yes," before she pointed her fatherly steed towards the door, commanding loudly, "Forward Daddy!"
"Yes ma'am," Wyatt complied easily, with DG following in the rear, shaking her head at the comical pair.
Outings with the pair of them were always entertaining, primarily because with his daughter near, Wyatt could not help but to be as congenial as he was ordinarily cross. Adoration and pure joy just seemed to shine out of him because of Lizzie's mere proximity, and DG could hardly maintain a straight face, let alone focus on her duties for the pair at her side. It wasn't until DG was unencumbered by her marshalling duties that she could take part in her family's attention, and the trio happily strolled through the market, with Lizzie riding on her father's shoulders and DG clutching onto the crook of his arm.
The market was just as DG had remembered it, although for annuals, she'd believed the brilliant sights, jarring sounds, and intoxicating smells were merely a figment of her imagination. She'd drawn countless gypsies in rich fabrics, shimming out their own versions of the dance of the seven veils on her drawing tablets. She'd begged Emily to make shish kababs so many times after the phantom smell of roasted meat had nearly driven her insane. She'd even tried taking up knitting a time or two after trying to place the image of a woman's hands, shriveled with age, yet agile and strong as they masterfully manipulated the fine threads into breathtaking blankets, sweaters and scarves. It wasn't until her trunk had been returned to her, cycles after her light had finally been unlocked, that the memories reintroduced themselves to those disjointed images. It had been nearly overwhelming too, for with the confirmation of those experiences, she finally remembered some of her earliest and most cherished friends: Addy, Emma, and Cain. The only thing she couldn't understand was why Wyatt had never said anything.
This thought plagued DG, even in her good spirits, and her mood was very nearly soured by it, until a light, suddenly brilliant and blinding, struck her in the face and startled her from her thoughts. DG stopped suddenly to shield her sight and determine the source of the flash, when she realized that she'd stopped just at the threshold of a scrap dealer's stall. Scrap was always interesting to either of the Cains, and unsurprisingly, Wyatt and stopped just ahead of her to examine a bin full of old rings. He hadn't noticed DG's sudden bafflement for his own entranced shopping, nor did he see DG's face suddenly brighten when she discovered the cause of her near blinding.
DG stooped before a bin of random scrap, suddenly excited by the scrap of familiar, blue-tinged metal that peaked out from the midst of other random bits. After removing heavier parts that obscured it, she was certain she'd found it: The Tin Woodsman who had drawn her into Cain and Adora's life so very long ago. When she held it aloft, it gleamed in the sunlight like it was being freed from a prison, and DG hastily paid for it before Wyatt could see.
It was too late for Lizzie, however, and the small girl had nearly jumped off her father to catch a glimpse of the small figure in her mother's hands, and she gasped when she saw it. "Mommy found a little man, Daddy, look!"
Cain's face, as he turned to look, changed from one of mild interest to complete shock. His eyes were transfixed on the Tin Woodsman, and he never let it out of his sight as he reached up to pull Lizzie from his shoulders. He handed the small girl to their guard, Gates, who held her like a beloved doll in his hulking hands, while still staring at the object all the while.
When DG handed it to him, he sputtered somewhat and explained in a hush, "I never thought I'd see this fella again, I wonder how he ended up here?"
The group moved away from the stall and continued to stroll down the lane as DG and Cain continued to talk. "I don't know," DG answered with a shrug, "Maybe he never left. I mean, he wasn't at the farm when you were imprisoned, was he?"
Cain shook his head. "No," he finally replied darkly, "he was with us in our apartment in Central City until we had to flee. It was all pretty quick. We didn't get much more than ourselves, Jeb, and our clothes when we left, and we probably wouldn't have even been able to do that if it hadn't been for your uncle."
DG sighed, "I wish he had told me who he was when I met him again. I wish you had."
Wyatt stopped dead in his tracks and sighed to the sky, and when his eyes returned to the earth, he paused to signal wordlessly to Gates, who moved Lizzie out of earshot so they could speak. When the giant man had successfully engaged Lizzie in the wears of a balloon vendor, Wyatt reached out and stroked DG's cheek while his eyes met hers in bittersweet remembrance. "Dorothy," he explained quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but the truth is, that at the time, it felt easier to let that part of my life die with the rest of me." He paused when DG frowned at him, and he expounded further. "When you were murdered, everyone mourned you, but probably not nearly as much as the people who loved you. Addy cried for weeks on end, and Matthew was just about numb with grief. The only solace I had in all of it was that my mother hadn't lived to hear of it. Then everything fell down again, with Central City being overrun, Matthew being made into the Sorceress's puppet, and then Zero throwing me in that tin can." Wyatt paused to huff loudly, after which he charged on, "I figured that I'd just let that door rust shut. It hurt too much to feel, but then there you were again, refusing to let me do it."
DG tried her best to hide the smirk on her face, but it was useless, and she replied through a broken murmur, "Well someone's got to give you a kick in the pants, you know."
Wyatt's smile couldn't have been any brighter if he had tried, and he shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, you've always been a pain in my ass." DG began to scoff, but the sound of her retort was captured by Wyatt's lips, soft on hers, and pleading in how they pulled her away from her irritation. Wyatt had no intention of making love to her there, however, and so he drew back moments later, causing DG to faintly sigh in frustration. His lips were still close enough that his breath warmed her lips, and he added tenderly, "but I've always been real grateful for you all the same. I love you, Dorothy Cain."
Wyatt's eyes searched DG's sky-blue eyes, and finding them smiling at his, he smiled back and kissed her on the forehead before they returned to their stroll.
"So how long did it take you to finally marry Addy?" DG asked curiously as they walked on.
They were joined in short order by Gates and Lizzie, the smaller of which retrieved the Tin Woodsman from her father's hand as he replied warmly, "Not long. We wanted to make sure momma could be there for it. We wanted you there too, of course, but that wasn't really a possibility."
DG nodded in agreement, and might have said something in reply, except Lizzie cut in, in her sweet unassuming way. "Daddy, is he magic?" She asked in an awestruck voice, holding up the Tin Woodsman for her father to see.
Wyatt began to shake his head, except DG replied for him with an emphatic and resolute "Yes." Wyatt was dumbfounded, and his eyes widened on DG as if she'd grown another head for telling a fib to their daughter, which was so out of DG's modus operando, but then DG explained. "He led me to your Daddy a loooong time ago, so I'd say he has a very special kind of magic. Wouldn't you Wyatt?"
Wyatt grinned at DG and his smile dazzled her, causing her to smile sweetly back. "You've got that right, Princess. I guess he is a kind of little Mystic Man," he replied with a chuckle on his breath.
As Lizzie hugged the small figure in thanks, her father raised her back onto his shoulders, and the group continued to stroll along in the glow of that crisp, spring morning. They had barely begun to take in the wonders of the Ozian Market, which by all outward appearances, had picked up just where it had left off so many annuals ago. The Mystic Man had once said that anything could happen here, if one only knew where to look. If you were lucky, you could find a lost treasure, or a little bit of magic, but whatever it was, it was sure to be memorable if it came from that magical market in the center of the Shining City on The Hill.
The End... for now.
It seems we all need a kick in the pants from time to time... a small reminder to get back to work or to open our eyes to the world around us. It is so easy to get lost in the minutiae that we all are probably a bit guilty of forgetting to take in the little sights and sounds that make this life palatable. This story is dedicated to that little remembrance, as well to my own personal "kick in the pants," Blynkrayne, and the other friends and family that keep me smiling.
I pray that we may all find that little spark of childlike joy that reminds us to look for the light, especially when it seems so dark that we can't see our hands in front of our faces.
Best Wishes,
White Rabbit
