The Lizard of Oz: Chapter Twenty-Two
Miss Osborne’s Dream
All these things had worked strangely on Miss Osborne’s mind. That night her sleep was restless.
She dreamed that she was home in Winthrop, and everything was as it had been before. In the dream, she thought that the trip to Ome had been a dream.
Then she found herself in the middle of a wasteland, lying on the floor of Daniel Boone’s cabin.
Next she was in Windsor.
No, it was Camelot and her name was Miss Oz Born. It was the day of a tennis tournament. Thousands of people had gathered in the grandstands at King Arthur’s court to watch the finals. She paid Attention at the gate, then found a seat in the back.
In the championship match, E. B. White was playing against Alfred Lord Tennyson. They had very different styles. Tennyson rushed the net, with hard smashes and fancy spins. It was hard to imagine how he could catch his breath, running the way he did. White played a leisurely, effortless game from the back line. He would tap the ball so it dribbled over the net, or he’d lob one high over Tennyson’s head. It was a close match with long volleys, as they struck and struck again. Then, suddenly, the match ignited, and the stadium was on fire, with people running and screaming. And there stood Miss Oz Born, all alone, weeping, amid the charred ruins.
“There was a flaw again,” said a deep sad voice. In her dream, she knew that was Merlin speaking. He was a tall old man, wearing a pointy black hat, like the sorting hat in Harry Potter. “Nothing to do but keep trying.”
It rained heavily. A thick fog moved in. Miss Osborne was standing in a cloud, and the cloud was Cloud Nine.
Gaynell went riding by on a unicorn, and Kathy was reading Merlin’s book of charms.
Nearby lay Mr. Carroll, sound asleep. Miss Osborne stepped up to him softly, kneeled and kissed him.
He woke but didn’t see her.
She couldn’t see her own hands or legs, anything of herself. She screamed, but made no sound.
“Miss Osborne?” he asked. “Where are you, Miss Osborne?”
He looked fragile and helpless.
She reached out, but couldn’t touch him. She wasn’t actually in the cloud. She was dreaming. She was asleep somewhere on the road to Ome and Home.
The clouds went away, but the sun didn’t come out.
Miss Osborne screamed again, this time loud and clear, “Help! Help!”
But there was nobody around to hear her — nobody but Merlin.
“I’d like to help,” he said, “but I’m old and tired. Arthur and his knights would like to help too, but they’re caught on that Merry-Go-Round Table, that carousel of time.”
“Will they ever get off?” asked Miss Osborne.
“Arthur will return. His day will come again. But don’t hold your breath. For one brief shining moment, we had it, and the world was ablaze with the fire that doesn’t burn. Then it was gone, and many of us chased false fires to fill the emptiness. But we had it for that moment, and it was splendid. Ah, those were the days.
“But there’s no need to wait for King Arthur. The world could be enchanted and disenchanted dozens of times before he returns; and chances are he won’t be back for long. In the past, whoever saved the day did it only for a day. There has always been a flaw, but that doesn’t mean there always will be. Now it’s your turn in the relay race of mankind. Take this stick and have a go at it, Miss Oz Born.”
It was the same stick that Plato had given her.
“But . . .” she started.
Merlin was gone, and she had a book in her hands. She knew it was about Arthur, but was shocked by the contemporary cover, with a non-Arthurian title — “They’ve done it; you can do it.”
She opened it and read. It was about Arthur. She looked again at the cover, and under the title was an epigraph in Victorian type: “They’ve done it; you can do it; Whither you’ve known the shadow of its secret glow.” Or was it “sacred glow” or “secret vow” or “sacred vow?”
She woke up trying to remember the words. The more she tried to remember, the more muddled her memory became, until all she knew was that she and the class could do it. Why or how she didn’t know, but they could and would bring back the fire of enchantment.
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.
