The Lizard of Oz: Chapter Six
Egghead Land
“Gosh,” said Donny, “we must be getting near the restaurant. I see food walking all over the place.”
“Yes, the Library’s not far, my boy, not far at all,” said Sir Real. “But those are people: eggheads, to be exact.”
The car stopped, and the kids piled out.
A deep voice boomed, “To be or not to be? That is the question.”
“Who’s that?” asked Mark.
“Looks like an omelet,” said Donny.
“Yes, indeed,” confirmed Sir Real. “That’s Omelet, Prince of Denmark. The others are cheery sunny-side up eggs, or hard-boiled, or soft-boiled, or scrambled.”
Gaynell asked, “Who’s that leaning against the wall? He must be the saddest egghead in the world.”
Sir Real explained, “That’s Humpty Dumpty. He’s in the dumps right now. Really depressed. He’s in love with a wallflower, that light blue one up there on the wall. He and she were sitting up there for years, never paying attention to one another, just watching people go by and reading stories. Then one day, by accident, they got to talking; and Humpty fell for her, fell all the way down to the ground. And when he saw that he couldn’t climb back up, he was all broken up about it. And there he’s sat ever since.”
“Kevin and Eugene, don’t climb those trees,” called Miss Shelby. “Linda C., this is no time to go wandering off. Timmy, get off that wall.”
But Timmy stayed on the wall and walked up to the wallflower. “Can I take it home?” he asked. He was set to reach out and pick it.
“No, Timmy,” said Miss Shelby, “This is a very special flower. She has thoughts and feelings just like you and me, and it wouldn’t be right to hurt her.”
“You’re so nice to protect me,” said the wallflower. “But what’s the use? I was just a quiet little flower before I met Humpty. I was too scared to say a word. All I wanted was for nobody to pick me or step on me. And since I was on top of a wall, not many people walked near me. And since I was homely, not many people would want to pick me. And the homelier I was, the safer I’d be. Every day was the same as another, but at least I was safe. And then I got to know Humpty, and everything was different, and I came to life and started to talk. And more than anything in the world, I wanted him to pick me, even if it would be the death of me. But just as he started to reach for me, he tottered and fell. And I’ve been so alone and miserable that I just can’t go on. And I’d be glad if anybody would pick me and end it all.”
Miss Shelby answered, “I wish I could help you, miss. But I’ve never read anything about how to cheer up sad little wallflowers.”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Kathy.
“What is it?” asked Miss Shelby.
Kathy whispered to her and then to Mr. Shermin. (By now the whole class could hear Mr. Shermin.)
“Brilliant, my dear, brilliant!” Mr. Shermin exclaimed. “Kathy, lead the empty flowerpothead over to the wall.”
“Watch out now, Kathy,” warned Miss Shelby. “Remember, he can’t see where he’s going; and if he trips, he might hurt himself.”
Mr. Shermin ordered, “Mark, Eugene, fill that empty flowerpothead with top soil. Timmy, dig up the little blue wallflower — very gently. Be sure not to hurt the roots.”
Soon, they planted the little blue wallflower in the flowerpot.
Then Cindy poured in some of the water from the fishbowl.
Suddenly, the pothead started staggering.
Miss Shelby and Mark and Eugene and Kathy, who were all right there, tried to hold him up.
Humpty got up for the first time since his fall and came running to help.
The pothead reached for the flowerpot like he wanted to lift a great weight from his shoulders and said, “Heavy, man, heavy. Where’s my head at?”
“Somebody, stop him!” shouted Miss Shelby. “Fast! He looks like he’s going to pull his head off.”
Only they couldn’t stop him. And, with a sudden yank, he ripped the flowerpot off.
Joey and Peter and Linda C. screamed and hid their eyes.
“Gosh,” said Donny, “he’s got another head. Can you do that again, mister?”
Miss Shelby said, “What beautiful blue eyes he has.”
Mr. Shermin said, “Those are blue irises.”
“Yes,” explained Miss Shelby, “the iris is the part of the eye that is colored.”
She was very pleased that Mr. Shermin had reminded her so she could tell the class.
Mr. Shermin went on, “The iris is a kind of flower, too. That little blue wallflower is an iris. And it looks like planting the iris in his empty head made it so the pothead could see.”
“Man, I feel like a new man,” said the former pothead as he handed Humpty the flowerpot.
Mr. Shermin said, “Well, that’s what we’ll call you then, Mr. New Man.”
“He looks just like Paul Newman,” said Miss Shelby.
Kathy and Gaynell giggled, and Miss Shelby blushed.
And that’s what they called him from then on: Mr. New Man.
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Links to other chapters and the story of how this story was written.
