The Lizard of Oz: Chapter Seven
The Library
“Man, I’m hungry,” said Mr. New Man.
“Yes,” echoed Miss Shelby, “it is high time we got something to eat.”
“No problem at all,” said Sir Real. “Right this way, folks.”
He walked through a door in the wall. Nobody had noticed the door before, but there it was — wide open.
Everybody ran in, because they were all hungry.
Donny said, “Gosh, this isn’t a restaurant. There’s nothing but books.”
“Here’s something,” said Kathy. “Miss Shelby, do you have any salt and pepper? I just found the biggest, most delicious-looking piece of bacon in the world.”
Everybody rushed to get a piece of the bacon.
“Cannibals! Barbarians!” hollered the bacon. “Who let this horde of ruffians into my Library?”
Sir Real introduced him, “This is Mr. Bacon, Francis Bacon, the librarian.”
“Excuse us, Mr. Bacon,” said Miss Shelby. “We didn’t mean any harm. We’re a class on a field trip to Oz, a very educational trip. We’re all hungry, and when we asked the way to a restaurant, this gentleman directed us here. Apparently, there’s been a mistake.”
“No mistake, no mistake at all,” insisted Mr. Bacon. “The Library is the best place to get food for thought. Help yourselves. We have a wide selection. Some books are to be tasted, others swallowed, and some few chewed and digested.”
Eugene grabbed the first book in sight, ripped out a page, and started chewing it. “This tastes awful,” he said.
“Barbarians! Absolute barbarians!” Mr. Bacon was sizzling with anger. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to eat a book?”
He picked up a little book from his desk and read, “ ‘Once upon a space, there was a time, a cute little time; her name was Now.’ That’s how to eat a book,” he said.
“But that’s reading,” said Miss Shelby. “That could never satisfy these hungry children.”
“And why not?” asked Mr. Bacon. “I myself find it very satisfying.”
“Miss Shelby,” hollered Timmy, “here’s one about Huckleberry Finn and his dog, Huckleberry Hound.”
“Hey, get this one,” said Eugene. “The Quest for the Golden Fleas. Why would anybody want fleas — even golden ones?”
Timmy suggested, “Maybe they want the dog who has the fleas.”
“What?” asked Eugene.
“Maybe it’s a golden retriever.”
Meanwhile, Mr. New Man asked Miss Shelby, “What’s all this stuff about books?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know, would you? You never learned to read when you were a Pothead.”
“What do you mean read? What’s this all about?”
“These marks are code for words that, together, make stories. If you know the code, you can enjoy the stories, as if someone were telling them to you. It doesn’t matter that you never meet the people who write the stories. They could have written those stories many years ago. And if you wrote stories, people might read your words many years in the future. You might say writing and reading are ways to talk across centuries.”
“Like people and fish talking to one another? Magic?”
Miss Shelby laughed in agreement. “Real magic, everyday magic.”
“Man, I like that. Every day should be magic. Teach me this magic, please. What does this writing say?”
“This one’s The Little Prince. It’s about a prince who loved a rose, just like Humpty Dumpty loves the Little Blue Wallflower.”
“I guess there are lots of flower children in the world. And what about this one here?”
“I don’t know that one. But it says on the cover that it’s all about King Arthur and Sir Ridesalot and other Knights of the Merry-Go-Round Table.”
“And this one?”
“That’s the story Mr. Bacon just read from. It’s called Now and Then. And here’s another by the same writer called The Lizard of Oz.”
Soon, all the kids were reading.
“Miss Osborne,” said Donny, “look at this one. It’s about the Trojan Rockinghorse and how people traded a whole city just for a chance to ride on it.”
“Rockinghorse?” asked Miss Osborne.
“Yeah, and here’s another one about an amusement park built by the same company. They call it The Oddest Sea, and it looks like it’s even better than Disneyland.”
“The Oddest Sea?”
“Yeah. You go sailing from one land to another, and there are wild rides and monsters along the way. There’s even a Circus Island where you not only get to look at the animals, you get to be an animal yourself. Can we go there, Miss Osborne? Can we, please?”
“That’s new to me, Donny,” she admitted. “I’ll have to read up on it.”
“Help me first, Miss Osborne, please,” asked Kathy. “I’ve been reading this story about a magic potion that makes you fall in love with the first person you see. I want to find out where I can buy some.”
“Miss Osborne, Miss Osborne,” Gaynell interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Isn’t it wonderful that there are lots of rabbit holes and potholes so people can fall through them to other worlds and have adventures to tell stories about?”
Nearby, Mr. Bacon and Sir Real were discussing the state of the world.
“Have you eaten today’s news?” asked Mr. Bacon.
“Yes, and I’m fed up with it,” replied Sir Real. “Things keep getting wars and wars and more wars.”
Miss Osborne added, “It’s hard to say just what it’ll all lead to. Only time will tell.”
“Where did you get that silly idea?” asked Mr. Bacon. “You should tell time, not wait for time to tell you. What do you go to school for but to learn to tell time?”
Miss Osborne didn’t know what to say to that.
A big, bearded man joined them. “What’s the world coming to? Children and even grownups reading fantasy, fairy tales, fables, and legends. You’d think there was nothing serious or important in the world, nothing worth seeing or doing, nothing worth studying and changing.”
Sir Real introduced the newcomer, “I’d like you to meet Mr. Marx, a frequent visitor at the Library.”
“How do you do, Mr. Marx?
“Are these your children, miss?”
“Yes, Mr. Marx, they’re my pupils.”
“Then why do you let them befoul their minds with mere stories? Why don’t you have them read about problems of social and economic injustice?”
“But stories are important for children,” Miss Osborne insisted.
“Only insofar as they relate to the real world.”
“Mr. Marx?” asked Mark.
“Yes, son?”
“Are you one of the Marx Brothers?”
“The Marx Brothers?”
“You know. The guys who make jokes.”
“No, son. My field is history and economics. And that’s no joke.”
“Can you teach me economics?” asked Kathy. “Please, Mr. Marx. Mommy says that the more economical you are, the more you can buy. And I want to buy lots of things. So I want to learn lots of economics.”
“No, my dear. You mean ‘home economics.’ That’s another field altogether.”
“Do you teach Ome economics instead?”
“No, no. You see, economics isn’t just a matter of what you buy in stores. It deals with work and money and class.”
“We’re a class.”
“Yes, but I mean a different kind of class, like the working class.”
Kathy insisted, “We work hard, don’t we, Miss Osborne?”
“You certainly do,” she answered.
“I’m sure you do,” Mr. Marx continued. “I’m talking about a different kind of class, about the economic barriers that determine the kind of life you can lead. And I believe that one day there will be a classless society.”
Eugene asked, “You mean we won’t go to school anymore?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mr. Marx replied indulgently.
“No, I like school. Miss Osborne, they aren’t going to stop us from going to school, are they?”
“No, my boy,” explained Mr. Marx. “Nobody’s going to stop you from going to school. All I mean is that, someday, there will be justice in the world.”
Donny said, “You mean the good guys will get goodies, and the bad guys will get spanked?”
“Something like that.”
Kathy added, “And will everybody live happily ever after?” asked Kathy.
“Look here, children,” said Mr. Marx. “I’m not talking about fairy tales. I’m talking about the real world.”
“You mean you’re not talking about the Underworld?” asked Donny.
“Underworld?”
Donny explained, “Like in the book The Oddest Sea — the place where there are judges and everybody…”
Just then, the clock struck two.
“My goodness,” said Miss Osborne. “It’s late. The school day will be over soon. Come along now, children. We have to get going.”
“But, Miss Osborne …” said Eugene.
“It’s two o’clock,” she insisted. “If we don’t get back quickly, your parents will worry, wondering where you are.”
“Gee whiz,” said Timmy, “I was just getting to the good part of this story.”
“Now, children, you heard Miss Osborne,” added Miss Shelby. “It’s time to go.”
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” pleaded Gaynell.
“Please?” added Kathy.
“I don’t want to go any more than you do,” said Miss Shelby, “but two o’clock is two o’clock.”
Miss Osborne said, “Thank you very much, Mr. Bacon, Sir Real, and Mr. Marx. It was nice meeting you. Thank you for showing us around. We all had a good time.”
“But, Miss Osborne,” asked Eugene, “what about our trip to Oz and to Ome? What about the Humbug and the disenchantment? Don’t we have to save the world?”
“I’m sorry, Eugene, but the world will have to be saved some other day by some other class. You children have to go home. Cindy, don’t forget the fishbowl. We don’t want to leave Mr. Shermin and Mrs. O’Rourke behind.”
So Miss Osborne and Miss Shelby pulled the kids away from their books and herded them back into the little green VW. And off they went, with two teachers, twelve kids, and two talking fish inside the car, and Mr. New Man riding on the roof.
The entire book is here at Medium, one chapter per posting. It is also available as paperback and ebook at Amazon.
Links to other chapters and the story of how this story was written.
