The Giant Garden of Oz

By Eric Shanower

When Dorothy visits Aunt Em and Uncle Henry's new farm in Oz, all the crops suddenly grow to gigantic, unmanageable proportions. Determined to help her aunt and uncle, Dorothy sets off at once with Toto, her faithful dog, and Billina, the spunky yellow chicken, to get help from the Emerald City. But when her companions mysteriously disappear, Dorothy must travel on alone, meeting old and new friends along the way, in an amazing adventure that takes her across the world and even underground.
Forty striking black-and-white pictures illustrate this enchanting addition to the Oz canon by Eric Shanower. Author and artist of five Oz graphic novels, Shanower is an Eisner Award recipient whose additions to the Oz canon are cherished by Emerald City enthusiasts.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Release date: Sep 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9780486808062

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Farm

DOROTHY GALE gripped the metal arm of the seat as the red wagon bumped down the grassy hill side. The girl gazed at the wide, bowl-shaped valley below, filled with golden afternoon light. In the center of the valley a wooden farmhouse, a bright red barn, and several smaller buildings stood in a cluster. The long ride was nearly over.

A yellow hen fluttered a wing against Dorothy’s right shoulder, struggling to keep her perch on the back of the wagon seat. Hmm, said the hen whose name was Billina. Nothing special as far as I can see. It looks like a regular, old-fashioned, made-in-the-USA type of farm. Why your aunt and uncle wanted to move out here after enjoying the comforts of the Emerald City is beyond me.

Dorothy shrugged. Uncle Henry says that after eighty-some years of living a life of luxury, a body just feels the need to work the earth again.

As the wagon reached the valley floor, Dorothy clicked her tongue as a signal for the sawhorse to pull the wagon faster. The wooden horse switched his tail, which was merely a branch growing from the rear of his log body, and increased his speed slightly.

The wheels rolled smoothly along the dirt road that led across the valley. Fragrant fields of earth spread out in corrugations on either side as if the teeth of an immense comb had parted the earth and swept long strokes over the valley floor. Dorothy knew the fields had been sown, but the young shoots of barley had yet to poke their bright green faces up through the surface. Beyond the valley the blue-green hills of the Munchkin Country rolled off and away into the hazy blue distance of the Land of Oz.

Dorothy’s little black dog, Toto, crawled from beneath the wagon seat. He cocked one ear at Dorothy, gave a yip, and propped his forefeet on the wagon’s dashboard. His stubby tail wagged. He sniffed the air and pointed his sharp nose toward the center of the valley.

As the wagon approached the white farmhouse, Toto barked. A thin woman, her gray hair shiny and neat, rushed out of the house onto the front porch, screen door clacking behind her.

Aunt Em! called Dorothy. She stood up in the wagon, then clutched the seat to keep from pitching forward as the Sawhorse halted.

Aunt Em stepped from the porch. She stretched her arms toward her niece, smiling, the fine lines in her face spreading from her eyes like rays.

Dorothy jumped out of the wagon. Toto raced past her and plowed into Aunt Em’s long gingham skirt. He sprawled on the grass, but an instant later he was up, dancing and barking. Aunt Em folded Dorothy into her embrace.

Dorothy, said Aunt Em, I’ve been watching for you all afternoon. Here you are at last. She kissed the girl’s forehead.

I’m so glad to see you, Aunt Em, said Dorothy. How is farm life after all this time?

A farm in Oz is quite a sight easier than one in Kansas, said Aunt Em. But the reason I’m so happy today is ’cause my niece has finally come to visit! The woman drew a deep breath, then took notice of Toto.

Sakes, Toto, said Aunt Em as she bent to ruffle his shaggy coat. I haven’t heard you bark that loud since . . . well, since I don’t recall when. And here’s Billina, too. Aunt Em knelt and extended one finger to the hen who gripped it with a claw and shook it.

Where’s Uncle Henry? asked Dorothy.

Sakes, said Aunt Em slowly straightening up. I was s’posed to ring for him as soon as I saw you approaching. He’s in the barn.

Before the woman could tug the cord of a bell fixed to one of the porch posts, a gray-bearded man trotted around the corner of the house, carrying a pitchfork. Wisps of hair clung to his head like the wisps of straw that clung to his shirt and to his dusty overalls. Dorothy ran to him and hugged him. Uncle Henry dropped the pitchfork, put one arm tenderly around his niece, and smoothed her hair with a rough hand.

Hey, there, Dorothy, he said.

Dorothy looked into his light blue eyes. You look just like a farmer again, Uncle Henry.

He grinned, then gave Toto and Billina each a salute.

Come along, everyone, said Aunt Em. Supper will be on soon.

Uncle Henry strode to the red wagon and pulled out a carpetbag which contained Dorothy’s clothes. Dorothy directed the Sawhorse to return to the Emerald City with the red wagon. But be sure to be back here in a week to pick us up, she said, then followed the others into the farmhouse.

The house was small, but clean and well-built. Most of the furniture was simple—sturdy oak and chestnut—and the braided wool rugs on the wooden floors were dyed warm colors. But the living room chairs were upholstered in velvet and the front doorknobs were large emeralds.

Two portraits hung above the living room mantel. One of a beautiful girl with scarlet poppies in her hair was entitled Ozma, Royal Ruler of Oz. The other, titled Princess Dorothy, was a portrait of Dorothy herself wearing her jeweled coronet.

Aunt Em went to the kitchen to see to supper and Billina joined her to chat. Uncle Henry showed Dorothy and Toto through a short hall to a small bedroom.

The setting sun flooded the room with a rosy glow, coloring even the shadows a deep maroon. In one corner stood a bed with precisely turned-down covers. Next to the bed was a basket for Toto. A wooden box packed with straw for Billina lay at the bed’s foot.

This is your room, Dorothy, said Uncle Henry. It’ll be here whenever you want it. He set the carpetbag down onto a chest of drawers. Come on along while I finish up in the barn.

Outside into the brilliant light of sunset, Uncle Henry picked up his pitch fork. He led Dorothy past blueberry bushes growing at the side of the house. Toto trotted after them. Ahead, the big, red barn glowed as the sun hovered over the western hills. From the open hayloft drifted the dry, toasty aroma of hay. A bright blue ox cart stood just inside the barn door. Toto ran in circles in the barnyard, chasing his tail and raising little puffs of dust.

Inside the barn the air still smelled hot, though cool, blue shadows draped the heavy beams of the ceiling and loft. Bits of straw and feed littered the cracks between the cobblestones. Harnesses covered the wall next to the wagon. Uncle Henry hung the pitchfork on pegs and tossed a pair of gloves into a wheelbarrow.

He pointed to rows of equipment arranged neatly on the wall and along the stone floor. The Wizard of Oz helped us develop a lot of devices so two old folks like your aunt and me could run this farm. See that plow? Turns rocks aside auto matically—plowing’s like slicing butter with a warm knife. And these scythes work by themselves when I recite a magic rhyme. We’ll see how they do come harvest time. The plumbing in the house and the irrigation system for the fields are magic, too. The Wizard’s still working on seed that’ll grow hay already baled. He hopes to have it ready for next year’s planting.

It’s all so much nicer than when we lived in Kansas, said Dorothy.

This isn’t Kansas, said Uncle Henry. This is Oz, so Em and me figured to set things up the way we like them. And this is only the start. The silo’s going up right next to the barn—got to get it finished before harvest time. Over there I’m planning to build a hen house and see if any of Billina’s daughters will come to lay for us. We want to find a few goats, too, so we can make cheese. The goats’ll be company for Snowball, our milk cow. She and my ox team are visiting friends on another farm, but they’ll be back next week, so you’ll meet ’em then.

It’s all so wonderful, said Dorothy.

Let me show you what’s really wonderful about this farm, said Uncle Henry.

Dorothy followed him out of the barn, into the sunset and across the cow pasture. Their shadows stretched over the barley fields, making long lines on the valley floor. Uncle Henry stepped from the pasture into the soil of a recently sown field, his boot heels sinking a little. He squatted and scooped up a handful of dark earth. He rolled it in his palm, held it to his nose, then held it up to Dorothy.

Smell this, he said.

Dorothy drew a deep breath. The earth smelled moist and spicy and alive, so thick and delicious that she nearly wanted to eat a mouthful of it.

Richest soil I’ve ever farmed, Uncle Henry said. There’s nothing like this Munchkin soil for growing things. I’m more grateful to Ozma than I can say for giving Em and me this valley.

I’m glad, said Dorothy. It makes me wish you’d started this farm long ago.

Dorothy, let me tell you something, said Uncle Henry. He crumbled the earth between his fingers. Em and I are grateful to you, darlin’, for bringing us to Oz when we lost the Kansas farm. You saved our lives. But life in the Emerald City is different . . . easy . . . easy to just go along and ignore parts of yourself that ask for something a little bit more difficult.

Uncle Henry looked at the sun sliding behind the hills. "So I lived the easy life—and it was good—but after a while I looked around at all the fancy clothes and jewels and things, and they just didn’t mean