Abducted to Oz

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

  JEANNE-MARIE

  Graham sat down upon the ground and sighed. He was glad to have escapedfrom the Wicked Witch yet again, but he felt sorry for his companion. Hewondered what that awful old woman might have done to poor Telly. Couldshe have locked him away in a torture chamber someplace? Some terriblewinding maze such as he had just left? It made him feel sick to evenimagine it. He absently sat and drew a picture of Telly in the dirt."Where are you, Telly?" he asked aloud. He spoke his question into theair, and no answer seemed to be forthcoming. "What has she done to you?I have to know. I miss you, Telly! You are my best friend in thisstrange land. I love you! Where have you been taken?"

  "Who is Telly?" came an unfamiliar female voice. Graham turned about tosee who had spoken. He was looking as much into the sun as into the faceof the speaker. It was hard to distinguish her features. But she lookedlike a fine white horse.

  "Hello?" said Graham uncertainly.

  "Hello," replied the voice. Whoever she was, she sounded gentle andunderstanding. "My name is Jeanne-Marie. Why are you so glum?"

  "My friend has been taken prisoner by a bad Witch," explained the boy,who felt an inexplicable trust for this equine newcomer. "Oh," shereplied. "I am sorry. I had thought that Queen Ozma had done away withall such vile Witches."

  "Well," he sighed, "she doesn't know about this one. This wicked oldWitch has created a very clever illusion that has made Ozma unable tosee her or to find out about her. I was fooled, too. I had been underthe impression that Ozma was as wicked as the Witch. But I was wrong. Ifonly I could find Ozma. The real Ozma, not just an illusion that waspassing itself off as the real Ozma. Then I could tell her what wasgoing on. If all that the Woozy told me is true, the real Ozma would beable to make things right again. As it is, I can't help Telly, and I cannever go home to America again, either!"

  The horse nestled down beside the boy. Only then did he realize thatthis was no normal horse that was speaking to him. She was differentfrom all horses in all Graham's experience. She was as pure white as thedriven snow, and her mane was a shiny silver. From the top of her headgrew a long, beautiful horn. "Wow!" exclaimed Graham. "Are you a realunicorn?"

  "So I've been told," laughed Jeanne-Marie. "But I am a long way from myhome, just like you are. I left that area because the other unicornsdidn't seem to understand my views on things. They thought I was strangeand that I was not worthy of the name of the unicorns. But I cannot helpwhat I am. I yearn to see all that there is to see of this Land of Oz inwhich I live. And I wanted to find someone who could understand myphilosophies, too. None of the stallions of my breed took me seriously,and I have never once felt true love. At least, not until I metMacDonald Lindsay."

  "Who is that?" wondered Graham.

  "Well, I haven't actually met him in person," she admitted. "But Ioverheard him talking to his helpers one day. He was telling them aboutthe need for all sentient beings to have a purpose in life. No one canbe fulfilled if he is not in some way making his existence count foranything. He himself is in control of the finest dairy farm in Oz. Hehas vast fields of milkweed that his helpers harvest for him in exchangefor their housing, food, and the occasional game of quoits."

  "That sounds fair, I suppose," replied Graham, realizing that this groupwas not one which was accustomed to using any form of money.

  "Very much so," she said. "And the helpers--a unique tribe ofwarthog-like amphibians known as wartfrogs--are highly contented withtheir lot. MacDonald Lindsay allows them to come and go as they please,and he has given each of them a home that is far more luxurious than hisown little lodging. Actually, MacDonald's farm is the only thing he hasthat is luxurious. His personal abode is a simple cleft in a rock thatyou can see from here in that little hill." She pointed with her horn.

  "I see it," said Graham. "This MacDonald fellow sounds like a goodenough guy."

  "Oh, he is very good," said Jeanne-Marie. "But very mysterious. I havenot had any real opportunity to ask him, but I think I could be veryhappy working in his fields alongside the wartfrogs."

  "Have you ever tried to go to him to ask for a job?" questioned Graham.

  "No. But I have been in his fields. Indeed, his milkweed is the best inall the land. It is not just an ordinary dairy-farm product. It isspecial. It is chocolate milkweed, and it is as smooth as Chinese silk.I have been following the wartfrogs and sneaking an occasional taste ofany chocolate milkweed pods that they overlooked."

  "I see," said Graham.

  "You are welcome to have dinner with me," said Jeanne-Marie. "I have atleast a half-dozen pods that I am willing to share with you."

  It was at that point that Graham remembered how long it had been sincelast he had eaten. Even then, he was not sure the food had been anythingmore than an illusion conjured up by the Witch. It was not more than asecond before he heard himself accepting the invitation. Indeed, thechocolate milkweed was the most delicious thing Graham had ever tasted.He thanked Jeanne-Marie over and over for sharing this delightful newtaste-treat with him. He and the unicorn talked for a long whileafterward. He was not sure just how long it was, but he awoke the nextmorning feeling quite refreshed.

  The unicorn had already gone on her way. But she had left a note forGraham explaining that she had gone to watch the wartfrogs in MacDonaldLindsay's fields, as was her usual morning activity. The note informedhim that she would seek him out later that afternoon, if he cared tostay in the vicinity, and that she was happy to have met him should hechoose to move on...

  After thinking it over, Graham decided that he was going to need helpif he planned to rescue poor Telly from the false Allidap. Hence, hedecided to wait for Jeanne-Marie. He could spend the day formulating aplan that would allow them to get Telly away from the Witch withoutendangering their own lives.

  MacDonald Lindsay was a fellow who was in high position on his farm, yethe gave all of the finest of his yield to others. He was a man who hadfew needs, only the knowledge that his crops were bringing happiness toothers. That was all he had ever asked. Yet there was something missingin his life. Something upon which he could not place a finger. Yes,indeed MacDonald Lindsay had fingers. Three of them on each hand, infact! He was a powerful and muscular troll, for all intents andpurposes. That is, he was from the waist up. From his waist down,instead of the usual troll waist and legs, however, he had the neck andbody of a mighty black stallion. Anyone born under the astrological signof Sagittarius might recognize him as a relation to the centaur. ButMacDonald Lindsay claimed no such heritage formally. "Lambert," he said,putting a beefy hand on the shoulder of one of his workers, who happenedto be a foreman among the wartfrogs.

  "Yeah?" asked the amphibian.

  "Who is the little unicorn? The one I see out there in my fields? I haveseen her other times, too."

  "I know no name for her," sighed the wartfrog. "My boys and I have seenher before, though. She only takes a few pods--and only those extremefew that my boys don't consider worthy of picking or trading in yourname. Those that she takes are all too small or have already been pickedover by the crows. We had once considered making a scarecrow--aninanimate one, of course. Not like the guy who usually comes to mindwhen we think of scarecrows. But that little unicorn seems to get whatshe needs from our leftovers, so no one has bothered to send her on herway."

  "So she only takes that which is rejected from my farm?"replied MacDonald doubtfully.

  "Well," began the worker, "please don't be angry with me. There havebeen a couple of occasions that I have taken pity on the poor creatureand left a few better pods for her to find. Please don't get angry, sir!I only did it because I felt sorry for the poor little thing. She lookedso hungry, and we have so much."

  Within minutes, the mighty centaur-like man was looking into the eyes ofthe young unicorn. "I--I'm sorry to intrude on your farm," she saidtremblingly.

  "Listen, my dear," he said. "You are welcome in my fields any time youwish to be here. You are welcome to take any milkweed you want or tohelp y
ourself to any of my other crops. I have asked my wartfrogs toignore you. You no longer need to feel like an intruder."

  "You are very kind," she replied. "You know that I am not from aroundhere. I am not understood amongst my own kind, so I am something of anoutcast, you might say."

  "Not here, you're not."

  "Thank you, sir!" The unicorn seemed to be near tears. "Thank you somuch!"

  When Jeanne-Marie returned to the little clearing where she had leftGraham, she brought him several milkweed pods, as well as a few cookiesshe had picked from the bushes around the base of MacDonald's rock. "Heis very sweet," she said. "The moment I saw his eyes, I knew that he wasspecial. Graham, do you believe in love at first sight?"

  "I don't know," he said to her. "But I sure do love these cookies!"

  And so it went for the next day and the next. By day, Jeanne-Marie wentto the fields, where she grew more and more fond of the odd stallionthere. By night, she plotted with Graham as to how they might go aboutlocating Telly. The problem seemed to be that the Witch could havemagically zapped him off as far away as Santa Monica, California, hadshe wanted to do so. Finding him would not be an easy task. To makematters worse, poor Jeanne-Marie had become a tad too taken withMacDonald Lindsay. The wartfrogs had begun to mistrust her.

  "She isn't even the same kind of animal!" said Lambert, the wartfrogleader. "She doesn't have any troll features--not even a little aroundthe eyes! They are totally incompatible! She must only be out to get hismilkweed! To think that I once felt sympathy for that wretched littleunicorn! Why, that cunning little crook even has Lindsay entranced somuch that he has begun giving her some of the good stuff! She is nolonger contented with the scraps and rejects of our fields! She has gotto go. But how shall we do it? It will have to be handled in a sneakyenough way so as to keep Lindsay from noticing. He has been placed underthe spell of that little siren, and I know that he would never grant uspermission to shove her away from the area."

  It was the very next day that the wartfrogs made their move. Under thedirection of Lambert, they went about their work, and it was business asusual. Then, when one of the amphibious pigs saw the small unicorn inthe field behind them, Lambert called for a halt. The wartfrogs turnedaround and went back toward Jeanne-Marie. She was not looking in theirdirection, so she did not notice that they were coming toward her untilit was too late to escape. They were already upon her and hurled herunceremoniously into a harvesting-bag. This they tossed onto their cartand carried away. "I will sell her to a zoo in some other land, wherethey are not so kind to thieving horse-creatures!" giggled Lambert,showing his teeth. "Now we can get rid of this little troublemaker onceand for all! Old Mickey-D will never know what became of his dear littlecharity-case!"

  Indeed, it would have been curtains for poor Jeanne-Marie had not Grahamhad a sudden inspiration which he wanted to tell her about right away.He felt certain that he had formulated a plan by which they would beable to save Telly from the Witch, and he had run into the milkweedfields to find her. He had seen the terrible wartfrogs capture her andhad even overheard what they planned to do to her. "I can't let them doit!" he whispered angrily. "Why, this is the second time I've made afriend in Oz who has met with foul play!" He would have cried, had hissadness not been so highly overcompensated for by his anger. His firstinstinct was to run to her and try to fight for her freedom. But he wasa wise enough boy to know full well that this would be folly. He was nomore than one little boy against a whole farm's worth of strong andmuscular laborers. If he were to pick a fight with this bunch, he wouldbe sold alongside his friend. No, he would need another plan of rescue.But he had already come up with one such plan. Now he could give it atest-run. However, he knew that he could not hope to carry it out all byhimself. No, he would have to have help. And Graham knew from whencethat help must come. With a swallow of anxiety, he headed for the homeof the ranchero.

  MacDonald Lindsay was as amiable a fellow as the unicorn had said. Thisfact instantly put Graham's anxiety to rest. "Do come in, my friend,"said the ranchero. "What can I do to make you happy?"

  "It's about Jeanne-Marie," said Graham.

  "That poor little waif of a unicorn?" replied the troll-horse.

  "That very one," said Graham. "Your workers have taken her prisoner, andthey plan to sell her to a zoo or a circus or something like that."

  The troll creature looked at Graham and frowned. Then he began to laugh."Ha ha!" he said. "You take me for a complete and utter idiot! No, youcannot be telling me the truth. My boys are under orders to let thelovely little waif alone. They would not do such a cruel or vile thingto anyone, I assure you."

  "But I was there, sir," pleaded Graham. "I saw it all with my own twoeyes! They put Jeanne-Marie into a great big grain-bag and hid her on acart that they carried along behind them. The big fat one said he wasgoing to sell her to a zoo! I heard him say so! He said, 'Old Mickey-Dwill never know what became of his little charity-case!'" As he quotedthe line, he did his best to imitate the wartfrog's voice. "Please, Mr.Lindsay, you just have to believe me! I'm telling you the truth!"

  "Now, now," answered the troll voice, which was sounding less patientthan before. "I know better. No one on my staff would ever do such athing ... And no one on my staff would ever ... Wait a minute. Did yousay 'Old Mickey-D?' My, my. Only Foreman Lambert ever called me by thatannoying name. And no one but he would have the audacity to...." Hisheart pounded so loudly that Graham could hear it from across the room.Then the troll-horse let out a couple of loud exclamations. "MercifulFrances of Grand Rapids, Minnesota!" he bellowed. "Judy in the sky! Whata fool I have been to overlook it! Lambert has been trying to hide itfrom me, but he has been showing signs of resentment against thatunicorn! I should have seen this coming. But you have opened my eyes, myboy. I have strived--er, striven? Er, I have always made it my strivencein these fields to ensure that every visiting child and familysuccessfully explores his own particular creative abilities. I had seenso many fine qualities of leadership in Foreman Lambert that I closed myeyes to his darker side. But I can no longer look the other way. It maynot be kosher, but I am going to have to fight against my own right-handman."

  The ranchero started angrily for the door.

  "Wait!" shouted Graham, taking on the role of the calm and collected boywith a plan.

  "Wait for what?" asked Lindsay. "I'll wait for nothing until I see thatlousy Lambert get his just rewards!"

  "He will," spoke the boy. "Yes. But not that way!"

  "What ..."

  "If you try to fight all of those thugs at once, you'll just beoutnumbered. I have a better idea. I know of a way to save Jeanne-Mariewithout anyone getting hurt."

  "Then spill it, my boy! What is this plan?"

  Foreman Lambert took the rest of the day off. He carefully researchedthe best place to sell a captured unicorn. He planned to get enoughwealth to buy the entire farm and spend the rest of his days sippingstrawberry daiquiris and conversing with MacDonald Lindsay about thejoys of being affluent. As he sat and pored over the pages of _TheEncyclopedia of Places Where Unicorns Can be Successfully Sold on theBlack Market With No Questions Asked Except When the Salesman Happens tobe a Mangaboo: Vol. 224_, he heard a peculiar clattering noise outside.Fearing it might affect his own happiness in some way, Lambert ranoutside to see what was the matter. The sight that met his eyes washardly what he would have expected. There before him was a huge Oxtethered to a wagon. One wheel had fallen from the wagon, and thewagonmaster was jumping up and down, shouting angry expletives at theox. "You filthy pile of oxtail soup!" shouted the young man. "You are asable to locate the proper roads as Dorothy was in _The Road to Oz_! Nowjust look what your lack of brains has caused us! You dragged us off theroad, and now we have another busted wheel to bother about! You are justa lousy old coot!"

  "Now, now," said Lambert. "You needn't speak so unkindly to this fineanimal. I'll be happy to take him off your hands if he's such a ... acoot, I think you said?"

  "Yeah!" begged the ox. "Let him ha
ve me! I can work on this big farm!"

  "Not a cotton-picking chance!" blurted the human. "I need a work-horseto pull this wagon. If I had another animal, maybe a horse or a pony,I'd gladly unload your crummy old worthless hide in a heartbeat! Butsuch beasts are sure to be expensive in these parts, especially to astranger like me. And all I have are these forty-eight diamonds, a bagof square emeralds, and a couple of rubies to spare."

  Lambert lit up and became more alert than he had ever been before.Standing straight up and trying to look as businesslike as a wartfrogcan possibly look, he said, "That is the exact price I planned to askfor a very pretty unicorn that I have recently acquired by perfectlylegitimate means."

  "Are there any other kind?" asked the stranger with a sly wink.

  "Of course not." He ran inside to the closet and grabbed the bag withJeanne-Marie inside. Coming back to his customer, he handed it over andgreedily grabbed the precious gemstones. "Thank you, oh thank you!" hesquealed gleefully. "And can I get that ox, too?"

  "You can get me, all right," said the ox. "But I'm not sure you wantwhat comes with me." Stepping toward the wartfrog and ramming his faceagainst one of Lambert's tough tusks (which, consequently, broke off andfell to the ground), he broke off what became obviously a papier machemask. Beneath it, he was actually the owner of the whole ranch,MacDonald Lindsay.

  "Oh oh...." gasped Lambert. "Er, hi, master. I knew it was you allalong. That is why I went along with your silly little game. Had it beenanyone but you, I'd not have left my work for a moment to play such agame. But no harm done, right? Here, take these little gemstones away. Idon't really need them. All part of the game, though, you know. Well, Ido have work to do now ... Toodle-oo!"

  "LAMBERT!" roared the troll in a voice that would have shamed thekingliest of lions. "You have no work to do here."

  "Oh, but I do," said Lambert. "I must take this darling unicorn back towhere she belongs. Oh, yes, yes! Please do not hinder us. I must get heraway from here, where she is such a lovely distraction. Yeah, that'sexactly the problem, my master. Gotta get her home now. Later!"

  The troll placed a powerful and majestic hoof on one of Lambert'sflippers. "Excuse me," he said. "But I told you that you have no furtherwork to do here. Please pick up your toys and get off of my ranch. Andtake your disobedient helpers with you. Also, you may have as manymilkweed pods as you can carry. I'll never let it be said that I amheartless."

  "But, master!" stammered Lambert. "You can't do this! You mustn't! We'vecome such a long way already! I was up for a raise next year!"

  "I'll raise a few things for you if you aren't out of my sight beforenightfall." Lindsay was suddenly calm. "And if I ever see you aroundthis innocent waif again, I will ... Well, I don't rightly know whatI'll do. But you can rest assured that it won't be very much fun foreither of us."