Chapter 2: The Scarecrow of Gender Confusion

Chapter 2 of a tale set in Oz

I’ve landed in Oz, and it’s nothing like what I expected. If you want a recap, you can go back and read this:

And so our story continues. Don’t think I haven’t warned you….

The morning progressed and I tried to process as instructed but process what?

At some point I hit an intersection of a half-dozen paths. Along the edge of the intersection was a huge field of corn and dozens of crows ignoring a scarecrow attached to a post while they ate undisturbed.

The scarecrow hung there with a very confused look on his face. A crow was sitting on his head munching on a piece of straw sticking out of the scarecrow’s head. Neither seemed upset as I approached.

With my back to the scarecrow, I stood in the middle of the crossing paths and said to no one in particular, “Which path should I choose?”

A scratchy voice spoke over my shoulder, “Well some people go that way, while others go that way and even a few go this way.” At this point nothing was startling me so a talking scarecrow seemed entirely rational. The crow continued to munch on a piece of straw on his head, studying me closely.

“But which one is the Path of Gender Enlightenment?” I asked.

“Why all of them.” He stated with confident authority.

“But which one should I choose? I responded.

“Why the one that makes the most sense for you. It really doesn’t matter really. You will still wind up in the same place in the end. You will be where you will need to be.”, said the crow who finally decided to join the conversation.

I hated being indecisive but I was totally confused. The scarecrow saw the look on my face and offered, “If you help me down from here, I would be more than happy to help you decide. As you can tell, I am entirely useless where I am.”

The crow on his head nodded in full agreement.

Lifting the scarecrow was easy. The straw weighed so little. As I helped him down, I noticed that there was a bra under his flannel shirt. Wobbly at first, he was able to finally stand.

“Thank you.” he said.” I have been hanging there forever.” He picked pieces of straw off me noting that “you never know when you might need some additional stuffing.”

He stuck them in his bra and noted my new confusion. “When I was made, they decided to use whatever clothing was available, the bra, the flannel shirt and this ripped pair of pants. I know I am a scarecrow but I have never figured out whether I was a boy or a girl. Hanging up there on the post it never seemed to matter.”

The crow still sitting on his/her head added, “It never mattered to me either.”

I looked at the scarecrow and laughed. Now the scarecrow and the crow looked at me confused.

“I have the same problem”, I said. “I am built like a boy but I know I am a girl inside. I think I wound up here to resolve this confusing problem. I am hoping to find the answer as I continue to process, process, process on the Path of Gender Enlightenment.”

He/she asked, “May I walk with you? I need my answer as well and I will never get it here.”

I thought for a moment and realized that other than the bubble shooting gun there wasn’t much to do walking this path alone.

“Absolutely!” I cheerfully responded. “My name is Emma.” And I held out my hand.

“My name is Andi/y. With either a “Y” or an “I”, I was never sure of the spelling, so say it anyway you want.” Andi held out a ball of straw sticking out the sleeve of the shirt and we shook. Andi then pointed to the crow and said, “This is Neverknow.”

Crow waved a wing and said “I am not at all confused. I am a guy and there is no need for me to follow that path. I am definitely staying here.” With that he flew away down one of the paths into another field.

“But,” I said. “I still don’t know which way to go.”

Andi answered, “Well, that’s easy. We just have to follow which way the crow flies,” as he watched Neverknow fly into the distance.

It seemed totally logical and I had no better answer. So off we started on our journey of the Path of Gender Enlightenment on a path chosen by a crow named Neverknow. The sun was still shining as I shot a stream of bubbles from .44 Magnum bubble gun, still humming “I Go to Rio”. It was still stuck in my head.

Off to my right I heard Andi suddenly sing along:

“When my baby When my baby smiles at me I go to Rio De Janeiro, my-oh-me-oh I go wild and then I have to do the Samba…”

Andi knew the words. I felt like Humphrey Bogart walking from the airplane hangar with Claude Raines in Casablanca.

I thought to myself, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

(end of Chapter 2)

Writers Note: OK if you read this second installment then you either followed my advice about the wine or you are just a glutton for punishment. If I get no further positive feedback, I know I have reached critical mass for the collective patience of you all. I am not sure I have enough wine to continue this story but fortunately the liquor store delivers.

(For full disclosure I am not encouraging the excessive use of alcohol. You may choose to substitute chocolates, popcorn or Dancing with Stars reruns to dull the pain.)