I was okay with that. I had actually been pretty much expecting it. But something about the way he said it got under my skin. Also, I was trying not to think too much about the implications of running into another visitor from the real world in that place. Of course, it could be that whatever video game thing I was in was just multiplayer, and he was bullshitting me about having been stuck there for decades. Or it could be that I… had actually been transported to the magical land of Oz?

  Whatever. I was almost out of there anyway.

  The following day, I heard nothing from Oz. My friends all seemed happy and content—the Scarecrow insisted that he was having all kinds of amazing, secret thoughts in his head, and the Lion declared that he now feared nothing, and would gladly fight a hundred Kalidahs. The Woodsman, of course, discovered his new heart to be far kinder and more tender than the flesh one he used to have. They were all a little quiet and nervous around me, though—partly, I think, because they didn’t want to make too big a deal about their rad gifts when they knew I hadn’t received mine yet, and partly because they didn’t want to see me go.

  Finally, just after dinner, Oz sent the beardy soldier to fetch me and escort me to the throne room. The Wizard was sitting on his throne, with huge sheets of green silk in every shade piled up all around him.

  I narrowed my eyes. “That’s not a balloon.”

  “The balloon,” he said, “will be made of silk, and coated with glue to keep the gas in. I have gathered up all the finest materials in the palace! Now all we have left to do is construct it.”

  “What do you mean we? You have like a million people at your command. Order them to make the balloon.”

  “But surely you see I cannot!” I was starting to figure out his pattern. The more full of shit he was, the more he spoke all old-timey like the rest of the people in Oz. But when I had him flustered, he reverted to his natural speech.

  For now, he was in full bluster. “The wondrous flying contraption was the very thing that convinced the people I was a wizard to begin with. If any of them discover it’s something they can make themselves, I’ll be found out!”

  “So? You’re leaving anyway. Why do you even care?”

  “I have my legacy to think of! Also, what if the contraption fails? Though I’m quite certain of my design, it is the first balloon I’ve ever technically constructed.”

  Ugh. “Fine, what do I need to do?”

  “I shall cut strips of silk into their proper shape, and you shall sew them neatly together.”

  “Fuck that,” I said. “I’ll cut and you sew.”

  “But I’ve never stitched anything in my life. I’d surely make a mess of it.”

  “Neither have I! What, you think women just sit around and have sewing circles? Come on. I know you’re from the 1980s, at least.”

  “We’re only wasting our time by arguing about it,” Oz said. “It will take us three whole days to finish the task as it is.”

  What? “The hell it will. Let me get my friends in to help. They already know you’re full of shit.”

  “I’m afraid they’ll be no use. The Tin Woodman’s mechanical fingers were not built for such a delicate task, and the Scarecrow’s stuffed mitts couldn’t even hold a needle. As for the Cowardly Lion, an animal such as he certainly lacks the manual dexterity.”

  Manual dexterity? That gave me an idea. It might not be the wisest use of my two remaining wishes, but I’d be damned if I was going to spend the following three days sewing.

  I pulled the golden cap out of my basket and stood on one foot. “Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke.”

  “What is this?” Oz looked befuddled. “Are you throwing a fit?”

  “Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo.” I finished my hopping. “Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik.” There was a low, rumbling sound, and the entire throne room shook. Then, with a crash, dozens of Flying Monkeys burst through the chamber doors.

  Oz screamed and scrambled behind his screen, stumbling on the way and half-sliding across the throne room floor.

  “You’re not welcome here!” he howled. It sounded like he was trying to do his booming Wizard voice, but it just came out like a desperate yelp. “Begone! Go back to your… wherever you go!”

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  The Monkey King landed on the floor and bowed. “This is the second time you have called us,” he said. “What do you wish?”

  “Build this balloon for me,” I said. “The silk needs to be cut into the shape of that pattern over there, and then all stitched together into, like, a balloon shape. Super delicately.”

  “As you wish.” They got to work, and with their little opposable monkey thumbs, turned out to be magnificent seamstresses. Between the whole troop of them, they finished the job inside of forty-five minutes. The resulting balloon was massive, more than twenty feet from top to bottom. I had them spread it out to show the Wizard, who hadn’t come out from behind his screen the entire time.

  “How’s it look?” I asked. “Are we done?”

  He risked a tiny peek. “We still have to put the glue in there,” he said. “I haven’t had a chance to mix it up yet! I thought it… I thought we had like three days!”

  “Well, get to it,” I said. He slowly made his way across the room to his secret closet, keeping his back against the wall. Meanwhile, the Flying Monkeys were getting restless without a task to keep them busy. They started chattering and fluttering around, picking emeralds out of the walls and peeling the upholstery off the throne. By the time the Wizard finished cooking his adhesive, they had pretty much trashed the place.

  I was okay with that.

  I ordered them to spread a thin coating inside the balloon, then hang it up on the domed ceiling to dry. I had to admit, it looked magnificent, with alternating patterns of silk, and flawless workmanship. The Wizard begrudgingly agreed, and deemed the craft skyworthy.

  With another bow, the Monkey King spread his wings and flew out through the window, followed by each of his subjects in turn.

  “Okay, are we set?” I asked. “Is it ready to fly?”

  “It will need to sit overnight for the glue to dry,” the Wizard said. “And we’ll need a basket. I think the great baskets they use in the laundry room will do nicely.”

  Of course he made his servants cart his dirty clothes around in baskets big enough to ride in.

  “And then there’s the matter of filling it with gas, for there is no hydrogen or helium in the kingdom of Oz.”

  “So, what do we use? Fairy dust? Kalidah farts?”

  “Oh, there is another, quite natural way to make it float, which is to fill it with hot air. It’s simple physics! When air is heated it becomes lighter than the cool air around it, and shall cause the balloon to rise.” With the monkeys gone, he was becoming his old, pompous self again.

  “Whatever, dude.” I left him to his pontificating and went to check in with my friends, then settle in for what would hopefully, FOR THE LOVE OF MOTHERFUCKING GOD, finally be my last night in Oz.

  The next morning, what looked like the entire city had gathered to watch the launch. The Wizard was already in the basket when I arrived. He had attached big, canvas fins to the sides of the balloon, connected with pulleys, apparently to give him the ability to steer it. The whole thing was strapped down to a wooden platform by a few thin ropes that seemed woefully inadequate for the task.

  Oz was addressing the crowd. “Today I leave to visit my great brother Wizard who lives in the clouds,” he pronounced, to thunderous applause. “While I am gone the Scarecrow will rule over you. I command you to obey him as you would me!”

  The citizenry was eating it up with a spoon. “Come, Dorothy!” Oz said. “Hurry, or the balloon will fly away!”

  The thing was, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. In the movie, the balloon accidentally launched without Dorothy, and she had to use her slippers to get home. But the magic slippers were the first thing I tried, back when this whole thing started. Could it be I was supposed to take the balloon in this version? Should I just make the goodbye speeches now, and get on with it? The Scarecrow, Tin Woodsman, and Lion were at my side, all looking terribly forlorn.

  “Wait!” the Scarecrow said. “Where is Toto?”

  Chasing a cat, if I remembered correctly? “He’s actually the least of my worries right now.”

  The Wizard had his arms out, beckoning me to come aboard. “But you can’t leave your dog behind,” he said. “You must take him home with you!”

  Must? “He loves it here. He’ll be fine. Or do you mean I have to take him to finish the story? Like it’s some sort of victory condition?”

  The ropes creaked, and the balloon made a small lurch toward the sky. Now the Wizard was starting to panic. “I don’t know the rules! Forget the dog! The ropes are breaking!”

  “Wait!” None of this felt right. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to go.”

  “You have to!” Now he was utterly freaking out. “I’ve been trapped here for so long—I need to find out why! I can’t do it by myself! I never would have even gotten the idea for this stupid balloon if you hadn’t brought it up!”

  There was a loud crack as the cables snapped, and the balloon careened into the air. “No!” Oz shouted. “I can’t bring it back down until the hot air cools on its own!” In mere moments, the balloon disappeared into the clouds, and the Wizard’s cries disappeared along with it.

  Which was fine, right? He goes up in the balloon, I get all upset and pout for a minute, then the Good Witch of the North shows up to teach me how to work my shoes, and boom, it’s happily ever after. The Scarecrow, Woodsman and Lion were doing their part, orating mournfully about the injustice of it all. The assembled cityfolk were also quite upset, having realized that their Wizard was, in all likelihood, never coming back. I just closed my eyes and stood there, waiting for the Witch.

  The Good Witch of the North never came.