Off to see the wizard

Dylan Hostetter, Opinions and Humor Editor

The end of the semester brings with it a wave of emotions. I was walking through the Compass one afternoon last week soaking up all the sights, half-listening to the street preachers talk and feeling nostalgic for another semester passed, when a large gust of wind hit me and knocked me right into the path of a passing bicyclist. 

When I regained consciousness, everything was different. The brick beneath me was now a bright yellow, and all of the buildings shined an emerald green. I opened my eyes enough to notice a crowd gathered around me — it was the street preachers, though now they had high-pitched voices and were dressed in wild outfits.

I asked them where I was and why everything looked so different, and they happily told me I was in a land called Oz. They then all crowded around the spot where the bicyclist lay, though they were no longer there. In their place was only their bicycle and a single pair of ruby-red sneakers.

The street preachers placed the sneakers on my feet and told me I must follow the yellow brick road and travel to the City Commons to meet with the Wizard, for he was the only one who could tell me how to get home. This was honestly a lot of information at once, but I agreed. I could not be stuck in some strange land when finals were right around the corner.

Soon after departing for the City Commons, I found myself in a large cornfield where I happened upon a scarecrow. To my surprise, he jumped to life and asked to join my quest to find the Wizard, as he wanted to wish for a new brain — his was fried from all of the essays he had been writing. This seemed a little forward, especially coming from a sentient pile of straw, but I agreed.

The scarecrow and I then met a tin man who was also, oddly enough, alive. The tin man joined us in search of a new heart — his had been crushed by all of the summer internships he was denied. Finally, we met a lion who happily joined our group in search of courage. This was for no special reason — I mean, what college student isn’t gripped with anxiety in April? 

The four of us soon came upon the great Monroe forest. As we walked deeper into the forest, we came across a great water fountain. We did not have time to admire it, though, for the sky suddenly became very dark and we began to hear the faint noise of tiny wheels on asphalt.

Suddenly, from the bushes, a large group of monkeys on electric scooters came bolting towards us. Leading them was a scowling green witch. As the scooter monkeys surrounded us and the fountain, the witch skulked slowly towards me with her eyes glued to my ruby sneakers.

“Those shoes are mine, my pretty. Give them to me!” she demanded.

“First of all, these were a gift,” I said. “Second of all, don’t call me ‘my pretty,’ getting catcalled by a witch is not something I’m cool with.”

“They were no gift,” she said. “They were my sister’s, who you killed. She promised me those shoes.”

I was surprised to learn that for some reason, those weirdly-dressed street preachers had given me women’s shoes, so I graciously agreed to give them back. As I tried to remove them, though, it became clear they were stuck to my feet. The witch grabbed ahold of them herself to help, but they still would not budge. Then, pulling as hard as she could, she lost her grip, flew backward into the water fountain and melted.

After that fiasco was over, we continued on our journey to meet the Wizard. Following the yellow brick road out of Monroe forest, we finally reached the grand City Commons. This place had everything — exotic cuisines, great markets and a basement with pool tables. I was in awe.

We were then escorted by the Commons guards into a chamber housing a pair of giant ram horns. Between the horns arose a large plume of smoke. In the smoke was a giant face — a familiar face. “Kneel before the great Wizard” he commanded. As I knelt, I could not shake the feeling that I had seen this man before. 

“What brings you to my great City Commons?” he asked, “What wishes do you bring me?”

“I’m trying to get back home,” I said before I abruptly stopped talking. It had finally dawned on me where I had seen this man before. I stood up and asked, “Dr. Rao?”

A confused look crossed the giant face before it disappeared into the smoke. Then from a small booth in the corner of the chamber appeared President Michael Rao, who seemed surprisingly happy to see me considering we had never met.

“Are you from VCU?” he asked. “You’ve got to take me with you. I’ve been trapped here for way too long, they think I’m some kind of wizard or something.”

“How are we supposed to get back?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Click those ruby sneakers together or something. I’ve seen that work before.”

So that’s exactly what I did. I clicked my sneakers together and the next thing I knew, I was waking up back on the ground in the Compass. The brick was regularly colored again and the buildings were, well, also brick. 

A few random students helped me to my feet as the cyclist who hit me dusted herself off. She called me a string of nasty names before riding away, but I did not care — I was glad to be back because, after all, there’s no place like VCU.