Dear Old Shiz, Part 10

“This one’s my treat,” Raijk said, leading me to the bar.  “What can I get you? Sex on the Beach? Leg-Spreader? Screaming Orgasm?”

“I suppose those are my only options, are they? Are you after bragging rights or something?”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it…” He grinned.  “No.  I rather thought I’d give you a real one before I started bragging.”

“What?”

“Sorry, that was the alcohol talking.  I’m sorry.  Fancy a walk outside?”

“I thought you were buying me a drink.”

“I don’t think you need any more alcohol—some fresh air might clear your head a little.”

I leaned against him for support and shivered; I wished I’d brought my coat.  He pulled me closer to him and tried to warm the goosebumps off my arm.  “Why’s it so goddamn cold?” I hissed.

He laughed.  “You are drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“You never curse when you’re sober.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve heard.”

His brown eyes were so much warmer than Fiyero’s cool blue ones.  Blue was pretty, but the brown felt like a rich dessert.  “Your eyes look like chocolate cake,” I said.

He laughed uncertainly.  “Um… thank you?”

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re drunk.  Come on, let’s go back in.”

“Mm-nm,” I said, grabbing his lapels and kissing him again.  He pulled me around the corner of the building into the alley, his hands exploring my arms and back, his lips on my neck and collarbone.  As his fingers tugged the buttons on the front of my dress, I pulled my lips away from his, breathing nervously.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he said.

I nodded, then shook my head.  “I—I don’t know.  It’s just that Fiyero—”

“What about him?”

“Nothing, never mind.” I kissed him before pushing his hands away again.  “Wait.  I just—I’m just—”

He hung his head.  “What?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t—we should just wait, okay?”

He reached a hand up my dress and I bit my lip, digging my nails into his back.  “Are you sure you want to wait?”

I awoke shivering with a racing heartbeat and hot sweat beading between my breasts.  I wiped moisture from my chin and turned to look at Elphaba in the bed next to me.  A moment of disoriented panic—there was no bed, I couldn’t see the window, the sheets itched unfamiliarly.  The disorientation faded to give way to solitary panic, though, when I remembered that Elphaba was gone and I was being kept in this awful cell in the sublevels of the Palace, all thanks to the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

I wanted to blame him for everything that had happened in the past day, but all I could think about was how she’d taken off and left me to deal with this alone.  It didn’t seem like her to want to save her own skin first and foremost, but then, maybe she was always selfish.  I threw the blanket on the floor.  Through the barred window on my cell door, I could see the weak flicker of a torch.  It had been there since I fell asleep a few hours ago.

The imprisonment, the abandonment, the disappointment, the disgust—all of it heaved and I got sick in the toilet.  Prison life, even this glorified version, was not for me.  I lay on the floor, alternately fighting chills and heat waves with the scratchy wool blanket.  After what felt like hours, but may well have been a third that, a key scraped the lock and my door swung open violently, almost hitting my knees.

“What are you on the floor for? Get up,” the guard said.

“I don’t feel well,” I said.

“The Wizard wants to see you.”

I certainly wanted nothing to do with him, but if it got me out of the dungeon, I decided I could manage.

When I was before the Wizard, the unremarkable man with graying hair and a dandruff-flaked scalp sitting informally sideways on his throne, I felt Elphaba’s scorn rise in me.  “What,” I said, “no dancing skeletons or floating green fire to talk to me today?”

“I understand you’re upset about being incarcerate,” he said.  “But you can hardly blame us, my dear—being associated with a terrorist, you know.”

“What?”

“She mutated that poor monkey right in front of you.  Surely you remember.”

“Because you asked her to!”

The guards at each door behind the throne stiffened, and the Wizard’s cheek twitched.  “My dear,” he said, “surely you don’t mean to suggest I’m responsible for the fate of those poor monkeys.”

I looked at the guards’ tight grips on their ceremonial spears and the warning glint in the Wizard’s eye.  I didn’t want to be killed for the kind of recklessness Elphaba wouldn’t have hesitated to display—or, worse, go back to the prison cell downstairs.  “No, sir,” I said quietly.  “I’m sorry.  It was my… my mistake.  I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Ah,” the Wizard said.  “Dreams.”

How did he know? I hadn’t said “dreams,” had I?

“Dreams of your friend, there, Elphaba?” he asked.

I could feel the trap the instant he set it.  And the thought of her sudden flight made me sick all over again; I swallowed with difficulty and nearly bit my tongue.  She’d taken the mutilated monkeys with her but left me behind to deal with her mess.  “She’s not my friend,” I said.

“My mistake.  My offer still stands, then; I’d love to have you on my staff here in the City.  Of course you can think it over for a few days, but I’d like you to get back to me as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll get more specialized training when I start, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then I’m sure.”

“That’s wonderful.  Alright, then, first things first—the name’s got to go.  Makes you sound like a hick.”

A what? I bowed my head.  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

“Don’t get all glum, we don’t have to chuck it completely—come on, brighten up.  What about… Glinda.  Like St. Glinda.  Great connotations, and it’s really not all that different, is it?”

“Glinda?” The missing a stuck a little in my throat.

The Wizard sat back in his chair, pleased at his own brilliance.

“It’s perfect,” I said, smiling uneasily.

“Wonderful.  Now, has Madame Morrible told you about what you’ll be doing?”

“A little, but—Your Grace, couldn’t someone else debrief me? I mean, other than yourself? When I came in, there was a very long line of citizens waiting to see you—”

He waved his hand and shook his head.  “They’ve waited half the day already, they can wait a little longer.  I want to get you started!” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

I glanced back at the closed door.  “Aren’t you going to help them?”

“Of course, of course I’ll help them, my dear.  And so will you.  It doesn’t take much for most of them, they’re quite simple people.”  At my frown, he laughed.  “A man brought me his hen saying she wouldn’t lay eggs anymore, and could I please cure her, so I took her behind that curtain and had one of my maids switch her out with a fertile hen.  Man never knew the difference.  Thought I was the most marvelous thing ever to happen to Oz! Swapping hens, that’s all it took!”

“You mean you couldn’t cure her?”

He laughed again.  “How could I?”

“There must be some spell—”

“Glinda, I couldn’t even cast the simplest of spells.”

My ears rang.  “What?”

“That’s why I need you.”

“You can’t do magic anymore?”

“Never could.”

“But you’re the Wizard.  What do you mean you can’t do magic?”

He shrugged.  “It’s all about illusion.”

“This is all just a trick.”

“No, my dear, it’s much more elaborate than that.”

My head spun and I clung to a pilaster for support.  “You’re a fake…? I don’t know if I can…”

“But you must!” He grabbed my hands and stared earnestly into my eyes with his dull hazel ones.  “Don’t you want to help them?” He gestured to the closed door.  “Without you, I can’t help them all.  I need you.”

“What about Madame Morrible? She’s got enough power for the both of you.”

“Her specialties lie elsewhere.  Yours are in your heart, I can see that, or I wouldn’t have asked for you to join me here in the Emerald City.  You were born to help people, Glinda.  I may not be a wizard, but I’ve always been good at reading people.”

If I didn’t agree to stay, who would protect those innocent people from the lies the Wizard and Morrible strove so hard to maintain? Part of me wanted to walk out that minute; if I stayed, I would be a part of the maintenance of those lies.  But, if I stayed, I could also help the people of Oz who needed me—really help them.  Besides, with the training and practice, someday maybe I could even show Elphaba up; wouldn’t that just kill her to see me better than her.  It would serve her right for leaving me here.

“I understand you’re hesitant, but—”

“No.  I’m sorry, it was just a moment of shock.  Of—of course I’ll help you.  Thank you for the opportunity, Your Majesty.”  I smiled.  “When do I start?”
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