By Hannah Christensen
“It looks like rain,” said Eeyore.
He started to step out of his house, but the wind blew so hard that it wrapped his ears around his head. “Or hail. Though I suspect it’s too hot for snow. Might as well stay in today. I don’t expect anyone will stop by to ask if my roof is leaking or not.”
He backed inside again. “And it’s no use trying to eat thistles in this weather. The wind blows them away from your mouth and pushes their prickles into your nose. Might as well try to get a little sleep.”
But the wind was much too blustery and loud to let anyone sleep. It wanted someone to fight with, and blew faster and harder until it was chasing its own tail. Swirling around, it picked up Eeyore and his house as it rushed past. Roaring too loudly to hear the donkey’s shouts, it ran faster and faster until it got to a land where the sun was shining so cheerily it grew ashamed of its bad weather. Dropping everything, it turned tail and slunk home.
Eeyore fell with a crash.
After a moment of silence, he poked his nose out.
A cheer almost as loud as the runaway wind surrounded him.
“Hip-hip-hooray to the one who saved us from the Very Fierce Heffalump!” said a small man in a grand coat and hat.
“Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray!” cheered a whole crowd of little people dressed in very bright colors.
“How can we ever repay you?” cried the grand little man. He squashed Eeyore around the neck with a hug.
“A little Peace and Quiet would be nice once in a while,” he answered. “It might be too hard to manage every day, but helps to keep away the headaches, if you know what I mean.”
“I say.” Owl glided down and lighted on a crimson bush. “Did you know that your house has landed on the Very Fierce Heffalump? You seem to have quite crushed it.”
The cheering that followed shook the air so hard that the little house collapsed. Eeyore studied the pile glumly. “Not that anyone asked if my house was strong enough to squash Heffalumps,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll think of it later, when the thunderstorms come. They’ll say, ‘I wonder if it was a Good Idea for Eeyore to squash a Heffalump with his house. He may be feeling damp.’”
“It does appear that you need a new home,” said Owl, hopping closer.
“The wizard!” cried the grand little man. “You must see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz!”
“Yes, yes, the wizard!” cried all the rest of the little people.
“If you wish to find home, you must follow the yellow brick road.” Owl took off from the bush and began to circle away.
“Follow the Yellow Brick Road!” cheered the little people. “Follow the Yellow Brick Road!” And Eeyore found himself pushed to the edge of their town and standing on a yellow brick road, which he decided to follow, since this place did not seem to be the type of place a thistle would want to grow.
He had not plodded far when he came to a field full of corn.
“Hallo!” someone called. “I seem to be stuck.”
In the middle of the field was a bear in a red shirt tied to a pole. A crow sat on his head.
“It would appear that those ropes are keeping you up there. Perhaps if you would untie them, you could come on down. I would offer to help, but hooves aren’t so useful for untying knots. Not enough fingers, if you know what I mean. Not what you might call Flexible. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Oh, bother.” The bear tugged at a knot. “I’m not sure paws are useful at untying either. Whenever I look, it muddles my head and I don’t know whether to go this way or that way.”
“That’s what comes of not having what one might call a Brain.”
“I don’t suppose I do,” said the bear humbly. “If only I knew where one found them. They should be rather useful in getting honey.”
“Not all of us can be Intelligent,” said Eeyore. “We all have our problems. You haven’t any brains to speak of, and I haven’t a house. I don’t suppose this Wizard really does know how to make houses for donkeys.”
He circled the stake thoughtfully to show the bear that Real Brains could find a way to get free of knots even without Proper Paws to untie them, until a crow perched on his back and tried to peck his tail free, and he decided now was not the proper time for Finesse, but charged the pole down instead which should have been quite enough to free the bear, but the ropes did not feel quite ready to let go and wrapped around the donkey as well. When they had become quite untangled and found and reattached Eeyore’s tail and made proper introductions, the bear decided to go see the Wizard too so as to ask for some brains. And so Eeyore met Pooh, who joined him on his journey along the Yellow Brick Road.
The road came to the edge of a forest where an old orchard stood. Not far into the trees Eeyore and Pooh began to hear someone hollering, “Help! Help!” They rushed to the voice to see what was the matter and found a strange, stripey creature thrashing about in a mud puddle.
“Hallo,” said Pooh. “Was it you calling for help?”
“I suspect he’s stuck,” said Eeyore, inspecting the new creature closely. “The problem with these mud puddles is one can never tell—Eeonk!”
The creature had seized him around the neck. Eeyore sprawled flat, splashing into the puddle himself, while the other creature crawled out over him.
“Saved!” cried the stripey creature, kissing the ground. “I thought I would never feel the terra furball beneath my feet.”
“Don’t bother to thank me,” said Eeyore. He pushed himself back onto his feet and plodded out. Mud streamed down him.
“It was horribibble!” The stranger used Eeyore’s tail on his big nose for a honking blow. “I was bouncing along, and this mud puddle yanked my tail out from under me and tried suffercate me.” He mopped his eyes with Eeyore’s tail, which pulled off.
“Poor—I don’t seem to remember your name,” said Pooh.
“I’m called Tigger. T-I-double ‘g’- er.” This seemed to cheer the stripey fellow up, for he got up and began to bounce. “The most wonderful that ever was.”
“Some might call knocking one down and dragging one into a mud puddle more heartless than wonderful,” said Eeyore. He stood by a tree, trying to repin his tail by backing into it where he had hung it on a bark snag.
“Haven’t you got a heart, then?” asked Pooh.
Tigger looked all about, but couldn’t discover one. “My heart!” he cried. “It’s gone!”
Pooh patted him consolingly. “You could join us. We’re going to see the Wizard of Oz. He’s going to give me a brain, and help Eeyore go home.”
“Follow the Yellow Brick Road,” said Eeyore.
“Woo-hoo-hoo!” Tigger bounced in circles around the two companions. “Thanks, buddy bear!”
“Yes, thank you,” Eeyore echoed gloomily. Tigger plowed into him with a big hug. “EE-Yonk!” yelled Eeyore as the tack for his tail lodged firmly in place. “You’re the bestest buddies ever,” said Tigger.
And so they continued on their journey. The forest got darker and more crowded around them until the little forest noises got tangled up in the shadows and rattled about so much to get free that they sounded much larger and and fiercer than before.
“Is that a rumbly in my tummy,” asked Pooh, “Or is that bush sounding hungry?”
“Yeah,” said Tigger, creeping closer. “Or it could be a Jagular.”
“A Jagular?” asked Pooh.
“Yeah.” Tigger gulped. “These woods are full of Heffalumps and Woozles and Jagulars.”
“Oh, my,” said Eeyore.
“Heffalumps and Woozles and Jagulars? Oh, my,” said Pooh.
They edged their way around the suspicious sounding bush. The bush began to shake.
“Heffalumps and Woozles and Jagulars!” yelled Tigger.
“H-h-heffalumps?” cried the bush. “Help!”
With that, everyone began to run. But as it was dark and they were all so close together, they did not get very far before everyone’s legs became tangled up with everyone else’s tails and arms and they all fell down together in a heap. When Pooh looked up, he saw a small pink creature huddling on his tummy, pulling his big pink ears over his eyes to hide.
“Oh, hallo,” said Pooh. “Who are you?”
“Say,” Tigger shook himself free and picked up the little fellow by the scruff. “You’re no Heffalump. What do you think you’re doing, hiding in a bush and spooking us all?”
“H-h-heffalump?” cried the little fellow. “H-help!”
“It’s all right,” said Pooh, taking the little fellow. “It was only a bush that sounded hungry when you were in it.”
The little fellow looked fearfully about in case there were any more hungry bushes around that might feel he would be just the snack they were looking for. “Do you think I could go with you?” he asked. “This is a very scary forest for such a small animal.”
“Of course,” said Pooh. “We are going to see the Wizard of Oz to find brains for me and a heart for Tigger and a home for the Eeyore.”
“And I suppose you’re going to ask him to give you courage,” said Eeyore.
“D-do you think he could?”
“Of course!” Tigger bounced in circles around the path. “Why, he’ll probably give you so much courage, you’ll need bigger boots to hold it all in.”
And so Piglet joined the party following the Yellow Brick Road.
When they finally left the forest behind them, a harsh crying sound could be heard ahead.
“W-what do you think that is?” asked Piglet, hiding behind Pooh.
“Probably an earthquake,” said Eeyore.
“Nah,” said Tigger. “We’re almost to the Field of Wild Vegebibbles. No earthquakes would dare to go there. Why, all the carrots and zucchinis might fall in. Yech!”
Slowly they climbed the hill until they could see down the other side. A vast field spread out before them in front of a great green city, but it was impossible to tell if it was a vegetable field or not for it was completely covered with hoarse black birds. Even the Yellow Brick Road disappeared beneath their cawing bodies.
“Oh, bother,” said Pooh, plopping down.
“I suppose we’ll never be able to follow the road now,” said Eeyore.
“Yeah, I heard that the field is cursed so that anyone who steps on a vegetable has to—” Gulp. “—eat it,” said Tigger.
“But how can you stay on the road if you can’t see it?” asked Pooh. “I should think you would need to fly.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea, buddy bear,” said Tigger, and he bounced back to the trees with a “Whoo-hoo-hoo!”
Soon he returned with an armload of branches that he used to disguise Eeyore as a giant piece of broccoli.
“I fail to see how this helps,” said Eeyore.
“The little buggers love vegebibbles,” said Tigger. “When they see one this big, they’ll just have to carry it off—and take us right across. But first,” he turned to Piglet, “Someone to let them know.”
“Me?” squeaked Piglet. “B-but I can’t—”
“Ah, of course you can,” said Tigger, scooping him up. “And you’re just the right size for the job.”
“But—”
“Remember to flap like a crow!”
Tigger sent Piglet flying through the air toward the largest black bird. Piglet squeezed his eyes shut and tried to convince himself he was too pink to be mistaken for a vegetable. He was just wondering if he would splat like a vegetable when he landed, when he did land, and it was softer and more feathery than he had thought. He was just thinking that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all and opened his eyes, when he saw that he had landed on the back of the biggest bird of all who turned to look at him with beady black eyes and a very sharp beak.
Piglet clung tightly to its feathered back and yelled, “H-help!”
The bird jumped into the air with a loud “Caw!” and began circling. As Piglet had landed on the King of the Crows, the rest of the birds began to lift as well.
“Here they come!” shouted Tigger. “Hold on!” He bounced into Eeyore, throwing him off his feet and sending him sliding downhill along the Yellow Brick Road, crashing into Pooh and sweeping him along. They tobogganed along the golden path, gaining speed until they crashed into the gates of the green city beyond.
“We made it!” crowed Tigger.
“But Piglet’s still flying with his message,” said Pooh. “He’s going very high.”
“Look on the bright side,” said Eeyore. “He’s headed this way. We can wave as he goes by.”
The crows had indeed circled around, spiraling up until they were even with the tops of the trees, then turned and flew straight at the city. He had his eyes closed again and was wondering whether the crows planned on dropping him or feeding him to their young, and which he would mind the most, when something loud and orange burst through the cloud of birds and snatched him away.
“Tigger!” cried Piglet. “How did you get up here?”
“Bouncing is what Tiggers do best!” And then they fell back, where a very large pumpkin caught them.
Pulling himself out of the squashed insides, Tigger oozed onto the ground. “Vegetabibbles!” He wailed. “I’ll be eating them my whole life!”
“There, there, Tigger.” Piglet slid down the shell to join him. “I’m sure—”
With a sob, Tigger heaved the monster pumpkin, uprooting the whole plant and dragging a tangle of vines and smaller pumpkins behind him. They caught and pulled along more vegetables as he trudged back to the city gate.
“Pooh!” cried Piglet, running around to hug onto his friend. “I’m back!”
“Very good, I’m sure,” said Eeyore. “Not that we have anywhere to go now. No one seems to be opening the door. We may be stuck here forever. Not that I’m complaining. It’s a very nice city to look at from the outside.”
Tigger threw himself against the gate. “Doomed!”
Just then a little door in the gate popped open and someone darted out.
“Hurry up, everyone. We haven’t much time.” He rushed about, pushing green spectacles on everyone’s faces, his long ears straight back and business like.
“All produce must go through customs,” he said, pushing Tigger’s pile of vegetables through the door and into an alcove. “Come along, come along, don’t dawdle until they come back.”
Tigger, greatly cheered by the removal of vegetables, led the way into the city. “Say, the houses are green in here. And the roads. And the sky. And even my stripes!” cried Tigger.
The businesslike stranger whipped the door closed behind them, then bustled in front. “Now then,” he said, frowning at Tigger’s antics of trying to twist around so as to see all his stripes at once, “My name is Rabbit and I am the doorkeeper of Great and Marvelous City of Oz. You must all state your names and business before entering.”
“I’m confused,” said Pooh. “Didn’t we already come in?”
“Not without stating your name and business,” said Rabbit. “It says so right here.” He pulled out a large, forest green Book of Regulations and leafed through it. “Now what is your name.”
“Pooh,” said Pooh.
“Aha!” Rabbit wrote furiously on a notebook. “And what is your business?”
“I don’t know.” Pooh scratched his head. “I just came to see the Wizard of Oz. I wanted to ask for some brains.”
Rabbit made more “Aha”s and knowing noises as he continued to note all of the companion’s names and desires. At the end he closed his notebook with a snap.
“Right this way,” he said. “The Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz is quite busy, so if you want to see him, you’ll have to begin waiting right away.” He led them zig-zag through the city, from one street to another path until they got to an impressive palace in the center of the city.
“Behold the Home of the Great and Mighty Wizard,” announced Rabbit and led them into a long, mint green hallway. “Wait right here until the gong rings, and then come in—one at a time.” He dashed away before Pooh could ask about dinnertime.
Tigger had tried bouncing up all the green marble pillars and was licking the wall to see if it tasted like mint ice cream when the gong rang.
Eeyore pushed the door open with his nose and came into a giant room domed with glittering emeralds. At the far side of the room sat a large throne, and on the throne sat a giant cabbage head.
“I am the Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz,” said a voice from the cabbage head. “Who are you, and why do seek my audience?”
“I’m Eeyore,” said the donkey. “My house got smashed up by a Heffalump that stood underneath when it landed. I was hoping to find a new one, but I don’t suppose that matters to you.”
“A Heffalump?” said the cabbage head. “Then you are the destroyer of the Very Fierce Heffalump?”
“My house landed on it. Inconvenient, I call it, but one can’t complain to the wind. It hasn’t got any ears, you know.”
“If you wish my help,” said the giant cabbage head, “You must help me in turn. First, defeat for me the Wicked Woozle of the West, who keeps sending those Winged Monsters to defile the lands about my city.”
“Yes, of course. Next house I get I’ll make sure lands on your Wicked Woozle. If I ever get a house, which I don’t suppose I ever will. Thank you very much anyway. I’ll be standing outside in the rain if anyone wants me. Not that they will.”
He turned and left the room. Back in the waiting hallway, Tigger sent him tumbling nose over tail and bounced up and down on him, asking what the Wizard had said. Tigger was still bouncing while Eeyore complained about how No One really knew how to Listen when the gong rang again.
“Who do you suppose is to go next, Pooh?” asked Piglet.
“I shall,” said Pooh, standing up. “And then, when I am done, I shall see if my brains can help me find some honey.”
When Pooh entered the room, he saw on the throne a giant golden bee with a sparkling crown on her head and a scepter in her lap.
“I am the Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz,” said the bee. “Who are you, and why do you seek my audience?”
“My, what a lot honey you must make,” said Pooh.
“I said, who are you, and why do you seek my audience?”
Pooh scratched his head. He wasn’t sure about the audience bit, so he decided to stick with his name. “I’m Pooh, and it’s nice to meet you, too.”
“What is your business—oh, never mind. If you wish my help, you must first help me. Defeat the Wicked Woozle of the West and all your dreams will come true.”
“But how does one go about that?”
“Go now, and do not seek my face until the Woozle is dead.”
Out in the waiting hall, Tigger was waiting to bounce Pooh as soon as he came out. “Buddy Bear! The Wizard’s gonna get Donkey Boy a home! Just as soon as he defeats the Wicked Woozle of the West.”
“Yes,” said Pooh. “That’s what the wizard said. Unless it was a bee.”
“But Pooh,” said Piglet, “A woozle is not a bee.”
“Yes, Piglet, I know. But a wizard is.”
The gong rang again before Pooh finished explaining about bees, and Tigger bounded in to see the wizard. He hadn’t been gone long before he burst back in and crawled across the floor.
“It was—he had—and the giant teeth—it was horribibble!” he sobbed into Eeyore’s tail.
“Oh d-d-d-dear,” said Piglet. But when the gong sounded, Pooh and Tigger helped him go through the door. Eeyore was too busy staring at the ground under his feet. Something was bothering him, but his green spectacles made thinking difficult. “Giving me a headache, no doubt,” he said to himself as the door clanged shut behind Piglet.
Piglet did not dare to look about at first, but when nothing pounced out on him, he slowly peeked out. The room he stood in was very large and beautifully shiny, but he could see no one. In fact the only thing he saw in the room was a large contraption of pipes and kettle spouts and brass doors. It took up nearly all of the far part of the room.
“My, someone needs to tidy up in here,” said Piglet, trotting over.
He had made his way half way across the room when the contraption roared to life. “I am the Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz!” Steam screamed out from the pipes and the brass door flung open to reveal a burning furnace which looked a great deal like a mouth. “What is your name and your—”
Piglet squealed in terror and dashed away, but so great was his fear he could not remember how to escape from the room and kept running from one wall to the other. It was to his great relief when Tigger bounded into the room with Pooh close behind him.
Eeyore was still in the grand hallway, staring at the ground. Through the open doorway drifted the noises of Tigger challenging the contraption and the bangs and crashes of the confrontation. Eeyore put his head down and braced the spectacles against his front feet and pried them off. He looked about him. “Ah, I knew something wasn’t right,” he said. “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.”
“No, no, no, stop it!” he heard Rabbit yelling in the other room. Ignoring it and the giant crash that followed, Eeyore turned around and walked out of the palace. “I can explain everything.” Rabbit’s voice drifted out, but then the palace door closed and Eeyore was on his own. After some wandering around, he came across a familiar looking road that he followed to the very back wall of the city, where it ran up the wall and curled over into a yellow brick curlicue. Inside was snug and warm and dry and just big enough for a donkey.
“Well, looky there,” said Eeyore. “My house.”
And he smiled.
Octopencil 