The hammers rang out by the stables. They had been at it for three days, working in shifts, without ceasing. Dorothy had freed the Winkies, the people of the West. They had ransacked the

witch's castle, delivered summary justice to the witch's collaborators, and feasted on the

spoils she had rung from them for years. They were nearly worshipful when it came to Dorothy,

putting her in the place of honor, but they could read the pain on her face. She said she was going home soon,

but the tin woodman and the scarecrow would never go home. They would never get their heart and their

brain. The Winkies were confused, and Dorothy explained everything about Nick Chopper and his

emergency tin appendages.

And it wasn't until they had recovered his body and had him in the workshop that they told Dorothy.

And it wasn't until the end of the third day

that Dorothy heard the man laughing and joking.

With his tinsmiths slash physicians.

Minutes later, the door opened

and the tin woodman walked out. He was patched and

polished, and he was alive, in a relative sense. He held Dorothy in tears, in his arms. She was so

happy to see him. With the Tin Woodman's resurrection, the scarecrow seemed almost trivial,

and he was.

A winky rescue team climbed the tree, and, 15 minutes after they got back to the stables outside the castle, the scarecrow was restuffed, and talking about how if he had organs, he would have had to live marooned as a piece of cloth on a tree in a fate worse than death.

Dorothy could see his knowledge

of human biology was still bit spotty, and she hugged him too. On the day they left the yellow

castle, as it was now called, it was a cool one, and Dorothy had gone through the witch's things

looking for supplies when she chanced upon a golden cap.

Now, maybe Dorothy thought that it looked nice, and, since it was a cool day, she could use it.

...