'Dorothy. Dorothy, darling, wake up.' Someone was speaking. Dorothy opened her eyes to see a woman's face. Her skin was brown; the lips looked bruised; the flesh around the eyes was dark. 'Hello, Dorothy. I'm your Aunty Em.'
Toto gave one fierce bark of alarm and wriggled his way back onto Dorothy's lap. Dorothy was confused and rubbed her eyes.
'She's tired,' said another woman. Dorothy remembered who Etta was.
'Of course, it must have been a terrible odyssey for her. I was so sure she would be on the number five! Dorothy, are you all right?'
Dorothy nodded yes and slipped down from the bench. Aunty Em moved away from her. 'Etta give me some chicken,' explained Dorothy.
'And a great kindness that was! Why, Etta, you must have been here for hours!' Aunty Em had a face like a horse, strong and full of bone. She had huge gray teeth. She stood still, her attention fastened on Etta. Bloated with sleep, Dorothy was confused. Were they supposed to be going?
'It was no trouble,' said Etta. 'Johnson Langrishe told me she was here, and I remembered how I felt once upon a time.' Etta glanced at Dorothy.
'All the way from College Hill,' said Aunty Em, grabbing Etta's hand, her face crossed with concern. 'In your condition.'
Etta's smile went a bit stale. 'My condition isn't so very delicate. I'd gone to market, it was easy for me to bring some food.'
'The whole county knows how hard you work. Oh, Etta, I'd just love to set and talk, but we've got to get going before dark. Dorothy? Are you ready to go home?'
Dorothy solemnly nodded yes, she was.
'Well, then, come along. Etta, I'll give you a hand.'
'I don't really need one,' chuckled Etta.
'Of course not,' said Aunty Em, but didn't let go. They walked toward the door.
My trunk, thought Dorothy, looking behind her. What was going to happen to her trunk? She saw her dresses folded inside it.
'Dorothy dear, come along.'
'My trunk,' said Dorothy and found that she was near tears.
'Oh!' said Aunty Em and put a hand across her forehead. 'Yes, of course.' She pushed open the door and called, 'Henry? Henry, please to come and give our little girl a hand with her trunk?'
Aunty Em kept talking, standing in the doorway. 'I was just saying to Henry the other day that we don't see enough of you good people out on the west side of the city.' Aunty Em's smile blazed, her eyes were hooded. 'How is your Uncle Isaac? We never see him these days, running the entire state of Kansas by himself it seems!'
There was a clumping of boots. Aunty Em stood aside for a terrible, looming man who walked past her without speaking.
'Miss Etta Parkerson, Henry,' said Aunty Em, in a gentle, chiding voice.
The man had a long beard of varying lengths and his hair was plastered to his scalp, curling at the tips. He wore a somewhat striped shirt and an open vest with patches of food on it.
'Morn',' the man said. There was a distinct whiff of manure. Toto hopped up onto Dorothy's trunk to defend it. He began barking, bouncing in place.
'Here, dog,' said Dorothy, so softly only Toto could hear. He came to her whining, and she picked him up and hugged him and buried her face in his fur. Uncle Henry grunted as he lowered her trunk to the floor.
'Out of the way, dear.' As Dorothy turned, Aunty Em ushered her through the door. The very tip of her finger touched Dorothy's shoulder and then jumped back as if from a hot skillet.
Dorothy knew that Aunty Em had just remembered the Dip. She thought Dorothy carried disease. She didn't want to touch her.
And Dorothy, who wanted everything to be pretty, soft, full of lace, stood outside on the veranda and looked at the street and a rough, gray, unpainted wagon. Toto wriggled free and dropped to the floor of the porch. Etta pulled Dorothy to her and hugged her.
'Isn't she a little heroine, though?' said Aunty Em. 'All the way from St. Louis by herself.'
'I'd say it was an epic journey,' said Etta, giving Dorothy a little shake, and spoke to her alone. 'And it's not over yet. You've still got to get to Zeandale.'
'Oh, you know Henry and I regard ourselves as Manhattanites!' Aunty Em corrected her with a chuckle.
Uncle Henry came backward through the door, pulling the trunk. Toto began to bark again and harassed Henry's heels.
'Gone'n brought her dog,' muttered Henry.
'I can see that, Henry,' said Aunty Em, voice low, her eyes avoiding Etta. Her hair was raked back tightly into a bun, and her hands pulled at it. There was a row of curls across her forehead.
'Zeandale's nice too,' murmured Etta. Toto whimpered, circling Dorothy's heels. Everything was confusion.
'Can… can we give you a lift up the hill, Etta?'
'Very kind of you, Mrs. Gulch, but I have my uncle's pony and trap.'
'You mustn't overtax your strength, dear.'
