After the Scarecrow patched me up, Glinda left us, saying she had business with Dorothy to attend to. The Scarecrow watched her go, sighing in admiration. “What a woman,” he said wistfully. “Do you think I have a chance?”
“No,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”
There were only a handful of Winkies left.
The Scarecrow brought out each of them in turn, pleading frantically for his or her life no matter how many times we explained we weren’t doing anything but improving them. “I don’t know why you couldn’t have gotten yourself appointed king of a people with more dignity,” he muttered. I ignored him.
We operated on six Winkies in total. All but two of them survived the process. The Scarecrow lined them up at the far end of his chambers as he finished, where they stood blinking and quiet, waiting to be summoned.
When we were done at last he cleaned the blood off his stuffed body with a rag. “Need to get an apron,” he remarked, dabbing at a tough stain. “This stuff is the devil to get out. You ready to show these fellows to Dorothy?”
I had been confident and sure of myself as we worked, but now that I faced the prospect of going before Dorothy again, I was flooded with doubt. What if she didn’t approve? What if the soldiers weren’t good enough? The Scarecrow was watching me sharply, and I was aware that my emotions must have been plain. I didn’t want to fail her again. I couldn’t bear it.
The Scarecrow ordered the Winkies to march, and they did so in eerie unison, moving their arms and legs as stiffly as robots and at the exact same time. We followed them out of his chambers. I flagged down a Munchkin servant, who eyed the Winkie soldiers with discomfort and told us Dorothy was taking the rays in her solarium. The Scarecrow let me direct the soldiers down the hall. They responded to my commands with the same mindless, automated precision they had to his, and I was reassured by their obedience. How could Dorothy not be pleased?
My beloved was reclining on a luxurious couch in her solarium, dressed in a long, soft robe and holding out one hand to a servant, who was painting her nails. Another girl behind the couch was brushing her hair. She still wore her glittering heels, and they glowed with an atomic-red light that called up in me an answering flare of clockwork emotion. A little black ball was curled up at Dorothy’s feet, and I belatedly recognized it as Toto. He jumped to his feet, barking excitedly, and raced to meet us, running around our feet in yapping circles. I stooped to scratch awkwardly behind his ears with my knives.
Dorothy looked up as we came in, her perfect face drawn into a scowl. “What on earth are you doing here? I didn’t send for you.” Her eyes widened when she saw the soldiers. “And what on earth are those? Woodman, I told you I never wanted to see those filthy Winkies again. What’s wrong with their arms?”
I sank down to one knee before her, but her expression didn’t change. “Dearest Dorothy,” I began, “you must understand, your safety is of our utmost concern. We’ve been working to perfect an army for you, as I promised.”
Dorothy’s scowl deepened. “I told you I wanted a real army, Tin, not this—this petting zoo.”
The Scarecrow stepped forward, interrupting smoothly. “Ah, Dorothy, of course. And that’s why the Woodman and I have worked day and night to create a new kind of soldier for you. Take a closer look, Your Eminence.”
The scowl lessened a little, and she stood up, sending the nail polish jar flying. The servant girl scurried after it frantically. She walked toward the mechanized Winkies, Toto racing back and forth between us, and studied them carefully.
“The Woodman will demonstrate their commands,” the Scarecrow prompted. I scrambled to my feet and ordered the Winkies to march around the room, and then to execute several coordinated maneuvers. Dorothy watched them with astonishment, clapping her hands in delight as they pivoted back and forth in front of her.
“But this is wonderful!” she cried. “You thought of this?” I began to answer, and then realized she was speaking to the Scarecrow.
“I had some assistance,” he said modestly. I waited for him to mention the hours I’d spent helping him, but he said nothing.
“You’ve done wonderfully,” Dorothy said, flinging her arms around him in an embrace that should have been mine. The ticking of my new heart pulsed faster, and I was filled with fury. I was the one who’d brought the Winkies, I was the one who’d had the idea to build an army for Dorothy, and I was the one who loved her. How dare he usurp the gratitude that should have been mine?
Dorothy released the Scarecrow and turned to face me. “Thank goodness I have someone useful around me.” She sighed.
“But, Dorothy,” I said quickly, “he couldn’t have done it without my help—or my Winkies. And the army was my idea, not his.”
“Oh, Tin,” she said, patting me gently on the shoulder. Her touch was wonderful. “I know you try, I really do. But you keep failing me. How can I possibly count on you? You have no idea how stressful it is trying to run an entire kingdom. It’s practically giving me a migraine, and I can’t even find a servant who can give me a decent foot rub. Do you have any idea the pressure I’m under?”
“No, of course not,” I said humbly. I felt awful. How could I live with myself if I was only adding to her burdens?
“So you see my problem,” she continued. “I need to trust you, Tin. You say that you want to defend me, and that’s very noble of you. I really do appreciate it. But you keep making silly mistakes, and people like the Scarecrow have to clean up after you. I want to appoint you head of my defense team, but I can’t give you that kind of responsibility unless you prove yourself worthy.”
I fell to my knees, clutching her dress. “I’ll do anything!” I cried. “Anything at all!” At that moment, Glinda swept smoothly into the room, her eyes full of concern.
“Dorothy, what on earth are you going on about? I can hear you all the way down the hall,” she said, looking from me to Dorothy to where the Scarecrow surveyed us, gloating. Then she saw the Winkies. “Oh,” she breathed, “what excellent work! Scarecrow and Woodman, you’ve outdone yourselves. They’re perfect protectors for the new ruler of Oz.”
Dorothy’s mouth snapped shut, and she looked at me in surprise. “You helped?”
“Yes, Dorothy,” I said quietly.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked impatiently. “Honestly, Tin, I don’t know what to do with you sometimes. Where are the rest of them?”
“The rest of them?”
“Well, this is hardly what I’d call an army,” she said, her voice cooling noticeably. “Surely there are more?”
“Dorothy,” the Scarecrow said, “we’ve only just begun. You have to give us time.”
“Hurry up, then,” she said. “I haven’t got all day. Just imagine what it will be like when I have an army of my very own!” She twirled around the room like a little girl, and my heart soared. I wanted to do what I could so that she’d always be this happy. And once she was happy, she’d really, truly be mine. I wasn’t going to fail her again. I knew what I had to do.
“I will build you an army, Dorothy,” I said. “I’ll build you an army the likes of which Oz has never seen. No one will harm you, or even dare to try.”
Dorothy stopped her dance and threw her arms open wide. “If only Aunt Em and Uncle Henry could see me now!” she cried. Behind her, Glinda was smiling, although the smile didn’t reach her eyes. The Winkies were frozen at attention, their grotesque metallic hands to their foreheads in matching salutes. The Scarecrow was snickering next to me, and Toto yapped and ran around the room. Inside my chest, my new heart swelled with such joy that I thought it might burst out of its patchwork housing, and I could almost see the pulsing glow that matched the flaring red of Dorothy’s shoes like a beacon shooting out from my chest. I turned to the Scarecrow.
“Prepare your workshop,” I told him, loud enough for Dorothy to hear. “The soldiers and I ride out into the countryside tomorrow. Dorothy’s army must have new recruits.”
“The people aren’t going to like that,” the Scarecrow said quietly.
I heard rather than felt the ticking of my heart. “The people don’t have a choice,” I said, and Dorothy laughed in delight. For her, I would raze the villages of Oz to the ground if I had to. Everything was different now, and everything was going to keep changing. Dorothy had come back to Oz at last.