"Why, you can talk," Dorothy said."Of course I can talk. I have a mouth." The Scarecrow winked. "And I know how to use it, too." Oh, really?" Dorothy ...reathed, coyly."Yeah!" The Scarecrow wiggled on his pole. "How about getting me off this stick so we can get it on?"Dorothy had long since stopped being shocked at what was going on in this strange land. She set down her pack, and stepped over the low fence into the cornfield. She slipped through the coarse corn stalks up to the Scarecrow's. The problem was, he’d left me with a “mattress-in-a-box” that weighed a couple hundred pounds right here on my front porch. I figured I could wrestle the awkward thing through the front door, but getting it upstairs was something I hadn’t thought about.I was just about push-and-pull it into the house at least when a red Mustang convertible came around the corner and swung into the driveway next door. Behind the wheel was the neighbor kid Brian.Brian was twenty-two and had just graduated from. More

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