"If I run into a talking scarecrow, I’m outta here!" she muttered to herself.

She blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and looked around her to orient herself. A little frown settled between her eyes. Instead of the long stretch of road she remembered seeing just a moment before, she suddenly seemed to be standing in the center of a circle with five pathways stretching out in all directions around her. Five pathways, each marked with a mailbox, most of them faded and in poor repair, but one with a bright, shiny, new one. And on that box, like all the others, were letters spelling out "Ten Acres."

But what was more surprising than five Ten Acres mailboxes was the brown leather armchair smack dab in the middle of the forested circle.

She could easily picture the chair in front of a fireplace with a curled up cat in front of it on a hooked rug.

But instead, it sat rather incongruously in the middle of the circle, and in the chair was a tall, muscular redhead in his late forties or early fifties, elegantly dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit, calmly reading what looked to be an old, battered copy of The Secret of the Mansion.

Dorothy stared in fascination at the man for a moment or two, noting that the man was making notes with a rather sophisticated-looking pen in the margin of the book as he read.

He paid no attention to her but turned another page in the book and underlined a long passage.

"Ahem," she said, complete with a clearing of her throat noise.

The man sighed and tucked the pen into the book to hold his place and looked up reluctantly. "Yes?"

His eyes were a rich emerald green, flecked with gold, and Dorothy was mesmerized. A burst of excitement shot through her. Is this an older Bob-Whites universe? Is this Jim? Her eyes lit up, and she asked, "Are you…"

Before she could finish, the man shook his head firmly. "No."

Dorothy looked puzzled for a moment and then thought, Ooooh! Regan! "Oh! Are you…"

Again, before she could finish, the man interrupted and said, "No, I’m afraid not."

Her eyes lit as she remembered the husky redheads who she’d drooled over in Mary C’s universe. "Then, you must be…"

"No, not him," the redhead interrupted again. He gave her a small smile and held up his hand. "Or him. And before you ask, I’m no one’s father."

Dorothy stood for a long moment and ticked off her fingers. Win, Matt, Regan, Jim…Who else was a redhead in Sleepyside? She looked at the man hesitantly. "You wouldn’t be Jim’s uncle, would you?"

"No," he said cheerfully, "but many people have thought I was."

She threw up her hands then. "Well, I’m at a loss. I don’t know of any other redheads in Sleepyside. I don’t even know if James was a redhead. I just threw that in there because Jim and Win were."

"He wasn’t," the man said with a twinkle in his eye, "but it’s an easy mistake to make."

"Are you always this exasperating?" Dorothy demanded.

"No," the man replied. "Sometimes, I’m downright frustrating." The man leaned back in his chair and gazed at her thoughtfully. "You look differently than I expected."

"What? You were expecting me?"

"Mmm…yes. I have contacts in many universes. They told me you’d be here eventually," the man replied.

Dorothy felt like her head was swimming. Ten minutes in the man’s presence, and she wanted to throttle him. She eyed him warily, taking in the sprinkle of freckles underneath his emerald eyes and the well-built body lounging gracefully in the chair. Okay, he’s hot, but I still want to throttle him.

Finally, she asked, "What, exactly, did they, whoever they are, tell you?"

The man sighed and said, "Your name’s Dorothy. You’re from the tornado state. You’re lost, meandering through universes, and you’re trying to find out where Jixemitri is."

"Wow," she said softly. "Your contacts are good!"

"Yes, I know," he said with a small smile.

"So…where am I? Whose universe is this?"

"You’re not technically in a universe right now," the man said, the smile still in evidence. He gestured toward the five pathways. "Head down one of those. Someone ought to be able to help you."

"But what about…"

"I’ll be here when you get back," the man interrupted yet again. "Don’t dawdle. Heaven knows these universes are cluttered with extraneous words enough as it is."

Dorothy frowned but then turned dutifully to look at the various pathways. With a sigh, she chose an open, well-traveled one in front of her and headed past the faded mailbox up the driveway. As she walked, ahead of her, the driveway seemed to shimmer with color. Her eyes widened, and she hurried up further and said in a wondering voice, "Do they really have a yellow brick road in Sleepyside?"

When she reached the top of the hill, she noticed that it wasn’t yellow bricks she had been walking on, but gold coins.

"Oh, man!" Dorothy knelt down and picked up one of the shiny gold coins. "This must be Susan’s Treasury of Coins universe."

She reluctantly, but gently, replaced the shiny gold coin and headed out toward the clearing. She could see the fences erected around crumbled ruins of the old mansion. The house had obviously burned or been torn down in this universe.

Her face saddened as she stepped hesitantly into the clearing. She’d never realized how very…well, sad…the old place was.

A lone man stood near the ruins, staring at them unseeingly. The shock of thick red hair and the freckles quickly identified him as one of the famous Sleepyside redheads. She edged a little closer and was dismayed to see the etchings of a long, deeply-held grief on his face.

Before Dorothy could decide whether to go forward or retreat, the redhead, sensing her presence, looked up and over at her. A polite mask dropped over his face, and he said quietly, "I’m sorry. This is private property."

Dorothy flushed. I thought that redhead said they knew I was coming. "I’m sorry. I…well, he…that redhead, I mean. Not you, of course. The other one sent me."

A thundercloud crossed over the other man’s face. "You can tell Riordan Grant to leave me the hell alone."

"Riordan Grant?"

"Yeah. Riordan Grant. The redhead you talked to."

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t mean…"

The redhead had already turned back to look at the remains of the mansion, ignoring her, his entire body stiff and standoffish.

Dorothy let out a shaky breath and turned to go back down the path she’d come.

A few moments later, she was back at the circle again. Furiously, she turned toward the redhead in the chair, who was again reading Secret of the Mansion. "Riordan Grant?"

The man looked up with a grimace. "Ah. You went into Treasury of Coins, did you?"

She nodded curtly. "I think I saw Jim. And I don’t think he was happy. And he was very unhappy when I told him you’d sent me."

"Jim doesn’t like me much there, I must admit," Riordan said with a sigh. "And no, he’s not very happy in that universe. At least, not right now."

"Is Susan one of those torturers of the characters? I’ve heard there are a few of those at Jix."

Riordan’s lips quirked upward. "I wonder why everyone has this idea that Susan actually plans anything herself. As far as I know, we’re the ones running the show over here. Susan’s just a conduit."

"A conduit?" Dorothy asked.

"Never mind," he said with a shake of his head. "Try one of the other paths instead."

"Are you in all of the universes?" Dorothy asked, a frown crossing her face. "I don’t relish getting yelled at by Jim in every universe."

"Not every one," he replied with a wink. "And Coins is the only one he doesn’t like me in."

"Hmm…" Dorothy said disbelievingly. "We’ll see." She stomped past him toward another pathway and muttered under her breath, "I can see why Jim doesn’t like you very much."

A rich chuckle followed her as she disappeared down another pathway.

Again, she found herself walking out into a clearing around Ten Acres, and her eyes widened as she found that the old crumbling mansion was still standing.

"Just barely standing," she murmured.

The lure of the mansion drew her closer, away from the covering of the overgrown hedges that surrounded the clearing. Just the thought of seeing the mansion as Jim had when he arrived sent a little shiver of excitement creeping down her spine.

As she walked toward the house, she saw a tall, red-haired teenager standing with a shotgun behind a shorter, sturdier blonde. The blonde looked extremely agitated and was gesturing toward the bushes. Within a few seconds, the two of them had disappeared through the hedges toward the sound of a high-pitched wail. "Trix-ie!!!!!!"

A honey-haired teenager looked a bit bemused, staring after the two. Dorothy hurried forward, unmindful of the game hens that scratched at the remaining grass that littered the front lawn in small pockets. The girl started and then turned to look her direction with wide, frightened, hazel eyes.

"Hello! I’m sorry. I…shoo! Shoo!" Dorothy calmly shooed away the indignant hens and walked over to the teenaged girl. "I didn’t mean to startle you."

"No, I…it’s all right," the girl said in a soft, hesitant voice. "I…" she looked over her shoulder. "I shouldn’t be here anyway. I was checking on…um…hmmm…"

"On Jim?" Dorothy asked.

The girl’s eyes widened. "How do you know about Jim?"

"This is his uncle’s house, right? And Trixie just heard Bobby yelling?"

The remembered story tumbled over her lips, and she began asking about the falling books and the mold growing on the old leather sofa. The girl just stared at her, her eyes growing wider and wider.

"Is Bobby all right from the copperhead bite?" Dorothy asked.

"Copperhead?" the girl said in horror. "What? Where? Is that why he screamed?"

A moment later, the redhead returned through the bushes. "Hey, Honey! Where are you? I think he’s all right. Trixie said…" his voice trailed off, and his green eyes narrowed as he looked at Dorothy. "Who are you? And what are you doing here? This is private property, you know."

Suddenly, Dorothy knew all together too well what the girls had faced in that crumbling down mansion as she found herself facing the business end of the redhead’s shotgun.

With a bit of a yelp, Dorothy turned on her heel and ran back toward the pathway.

"Who was that?" she heard another, more feminine, determinedly curious voice ask as she hurried back toward the circle.

After she burst through the undergrowth and appeared back in the circle again, Dorothy leaned against a tree and gestured at Riordan who had merely raised an eyebrow at her dramatic entrance. "You didn’t tell me…the shotgun…Jim…he…" Dorothy bent over, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

"He didn’t point it at you, did he?" Riordan asked. At her nod, he sighed and shook his head. "I’m afraid he’s a little uncertain of what happens next. The tainted timeline universe is pretty undeveloped. They’re only on chapter four of the Secret of the Mansion."

Dorothy drew in a few more deep breaths and massaged a slight kink in her side. That’s what I get for eating all those pieces of pie at Crabapple Farm. How was I supposed to know I’d be running in this author’s crazy universes? "Only on chapter four?"

"Mmm…yes. And has been for quite some time." He waved his copy of the book at her. "I keep hoping that maybe if I read the book and make notes that Susan will take some hints and write about it." A scowl crossed his handsome face. "But she keeps politely telling me that I’m not in that universe, and she doesn’t have to listen to me there."

"Well, I’m all for her writing something in that universe. If for no other reason than to keep Jim from pointing his shotgun at innocent bystanders."

"Well, you were trespassing," Riordan pointed out dryly.

Dorothy’s mouth dropped open. "I was trespassing? And Jim, Trixie and Honey weren’t?"

Riordan thumbed through the pages of his book for a moment and then grinned. "Well, at this point, yes, I suppose they were. Jim doesn’t own the house yet." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "But he has way more of a right to be there than you do."

"You sent me up that pathway," Dorothy protested.

"I recommended it. You did the walking, my dear."

"I don’t know what your deal is, Mr. Grant," Dorothy said emphatically. "Susan’s universes seem like scary places. Can’t you just tell me where to go to find Jix so I can get out of this…this…Ten Acres circle?"

Riordan shook his head. "Sorry. I can’t." He gave her a wry, almost sympathetic smile. "You only have three left to go."

With a frustrated sigh, Dorothy set her shoulders resolutely and picked the next of the Ten Acres pathways and headed up the now-familiar path up to the clearing around Ten Acres.

Again, she reached the top of the hill and found a teenage redhead looking pensively over the ruins. Girding herself for battle, she carefully walked out of the clearing toward him.

The redhead felt her presence and turned to look at her, his face slightly wary.

"Hello, I’m Dorothy. I’ve…well…I’m kind of turned around and lost. I’m looking for a place called Jixemitri. Do you have any idea how I would find it?"

He looked at her, puzzled, for a moment and then he said, "Gosh. I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about that." He gave her a rueful grin. "But, to be honest, I’m a little turned around myself." He pointed at the mansion ruins in front of him. "That looks demolished to you, doesn’t it? Crumbling rocks and weeds and stuff like that?"

Dorothy gave him an odd look. "Um…yeah. Doesn’t it to you?"

He nodded and sighed. "Yeah, it does. That’s the way it’s supposed to look." Something dark flittered through his eyes. "At least, after my creep of a stepfather got done burning it."

Dorothy cautiously edged a little closer to the pathway she’d traveled up. I don’t see his shotgun anywhere, but I’m not going to push my luck. "So, why did you think I’d see something differently?" she couldn’t help but ask.

He ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish look creeping across his face. "You’re going to think I’m crazy…"

After the day I’ve had? Out loud, she said, "Of course, I won’t."

"Well, there was this man. Mart thought he looked like a leprechaun. And he took us here. Here. But the mansion was beautiful. All together. Painted. Restored." He shook his head. "I keep having these faint memories…like I was reading a story book or something. But every time I come over here, the mansion’s still gone." He glanced over at her and sighed. "Yeah, I know. I’m a lunatic."

"Mmm…I wouldn’t say that," she hedged. A genuine smile softened her face. "I hope you find what you’re looking for."

The redhead smiled back at her. "I hope you do too. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you."

"No worries," she said before she hurried back down the pathway, back to the circle.

Riordan hadn’t bothered to open the book and read during her absence. He looked at her, a smile toying on the edge of his mouth. "No shotgun this time?"

"No. No guns," Dorothy said. "But I think that might have been Susan’s Golden Pages universe." She sighed. "She never writes in that one. No wonder I’m caught up on that one."

Riordan shrugged. "She doesn’t write nearly as much as she should. Especially when she has five universes of people’s lives she’s toying with." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you find your answer yet?"

Dorothy groaned. "No. And this is the first Jim who would talk civilly to me." A frown etched her forehead. "Where are the other Bob-Whites, by the way? I thought she wrote all of them."

Riordan’s mouth twitched. "She does."

"So…why am I stuck with Jim over and over again?" she demanded. "Not that Jim isn’t…well…the most wonderful boy in the world, but…"

"You’ll see," he replied simply. With that cryptic comment, he picked up Secret of the Mansion and resumed reading.

Dorothy sighed. This day gets odder and odder and odder. Maybe Alice in Wonderland would have been a more appropriate theme for this set of universes. She tucked her hands into her pockets and trudged down yet another pathway toward the old mansion on the hill.

When she reached the top, however, instead of finding a crumbling ruin of a house, she found a gorgeous, immense dwelling that gave her a new appreciation of the word "mansion".

The house was nestled in a glen, beautiful even with its lawn blanketed with white sweeps of snow. Instinctively, she shivered, expecting an icy wind to trickle down her exposed legs. Yet, Dorothy wasn’t even cold.

She stared, frankly admiring the palatial estate that lay on a great deal more than ten acres, and was so enraptured that she didn’t hear the trudge of footsteps until they were almost upon her. Dorothy turned, startled, to see yet another redhead, leading a beautiful, black horse by the reins.

His look was questioning, to be sure, but not unfriendly. "Milady, I would be so bold to ask…aren’t you cold?"

Dorothy glanced down at her denim shorts and a smile curved her lips. "You’d certainly think I would be, wouldn’t you?" She shook her head. "Actually, no. I’m not even a little bit cold."

He stared at her and shook his head. "I must be seeing things. Or…hmmm…" The redhead gave her a sideways glance. "You aren’t American, are you?"

"Why yes, I am!" Dorothy exclaimed. "Aren’t you?"

The tall man looked taken aback. "Certainly not. I’m English. A duke, no less." He raised an eyebrow. "I don’t think they let you be one of those in America."

"No, I’m afraid they don’t," she replied.

"Ah, an American," he said with a sigh. "That explains a great deal."

Dorothy frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that…well…when I was in America one time…I had a…well…a vision of sorts. I was me, but I wore clothing like that." He gestured toward her clothes. "Bea and I never quite determined what had happened."

"Bea…Beatrix?" she demanded.

"Yes, my betrothed," he said, a tender look gentling the handsome planes of his face.

"You’re getting married, then?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, yes. As soon as possible," he replied firmly. "The sooner we rebuild my house, the better."

"Your house?" Dorothy asked, her face confused. "Your house looks in fine shape to me. Quite elegant, actually!"

"The house of Frayne, my dear," he explained with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh!" she replied inanely, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "That’s wonderful. I mean…I’m very happy for you."

"Thank you," he replied.

"So," she said, glancing again at the large estate below her before she looked back at him, "if we’re in England, then I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about Jixemitri?"

"Jixemitri," he said slowly, the syllables flowing off his tongue like honey. Languid, slow and delightfully English. Dorothy had to keep herself from swooning into a near snow bank.

"Yes, Jixemitri. I’m trying to find it, you see, and…"

He interrupted her with a smile. "I’ve heard of this Jixemitri."

"You have?" she exclaimed excitedly.

"It’s a very large place," he said quietly. "It spans the world." His eyes twinkled. "Even places like Surrey in England."

"But if it’s so big, how, exactly, is it that no one seems to know how to get there?"

"Everyone’s path is a little different, you see," he said with a smile. "But you’ll end there, to be sure. Everyone does."

"All roads lead to Jixemitri?" she asked wryly.

He didn’t reply right away, but mounted his horse in a fluid motion that nearly had Dorothy swooning again. He took the reins in one hand before he said with a wink, "All roads may not lead to Jixemitri, but Glen Road always does."

With that, he lightly tapped his heels against the horse’s sides and the two took off down the hill toward the well-lit mansion.

Dorothy watched him go for a few moments before she turned and headed back toward the path she’d come up earlier.

"Any luck?" asked Riordan as he watched her return.

She looked at him and sighed in frustration. "This Jim knew of Jixemitri, but all he told me was that Glen Road would get me there." Dorothy gave Riordan a pointed look. "Seeing as how all roads seem to lead to Ten Acres here, I’m thinking his advice wasn’t terribly useful."

"Mmm…maybe. Maybe not," he replied. With a smile, he gestured toward the last path, the one made slightly different from the others by the newly painted mailbox. "You’d best be on your way."

Dorothy slowly walked over to the pathway and then, sensing movement, turned to see Riordan getting to his feet and walking toward one of the other pathways. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"Back to my universe," he said. "My work here is done."

She frowned a little, finding that the frustrating redhead had actually grown on her quite a bit and that she didn’t want to see him go. Then she realized what pathway he was headed toward. "Wait! You’re going the wrong way!" she exclaimed. "That’s Golden Pages. I’ve read that universe. You’re not in Golden Pages."

"Oh, I’m not, am I?" he said with a wink. With a whistle, he tucked Secret of the Mansion under his arm and headed up the Golden Pages pathway.

She stared after him for a moment before she heard happy shouts and laughter coming from the last of the pathway. Her pulse quickened. Maybe I’ve finally found Jixemitri! Without another look back, she hurried up the pathway again and headed toward the clearing.

The bright sunshine of summer spread its cheery glow over the construction that seemed to be happening everywhere on the top of the hill. Several young men, their shirts off, were tossing old shingles down from their precarious positions on the roof.

Another shirt-free young man came out on the porch, a tool belt slung low on his lean waist. He noticed Dorothy standing near the edge of the clearing and waved. "Are you here for the painting crew?"

"Uh, hmm…no." She smiled a bit hesitantly. "It looks like fun, though." Dorothy gestured to herself. "I’m Dorothy."

"I’m Dan," he replied with a grin. "Nice to meet you." He glanced over his shoulder. "Jim should be around here somewhere." He shrugged. "He’s probably pulled Trixie off into some corner to neck or something." Dan rubbed at the sweat pooling on his forehead with a muscled arm. "I’m still getting to know all of their friends." He looked at her in inquiry. "Are you from one of their classes?"

She blushed and shook her head. "I…no. I’m actually…I don’t know Jim and Trixie. I mean…at least here. I’m lost. Sort of. I’m looking for Jixemitri."

"Ah!" Dan said with a grin. "A Jixemitri seeker. We get those around here from time to time." He leaned against the porch railing. "Does it help you to know you’re a lot closer than you think?"

She sighed. "It’d help me a lot more if you could point to Jixemitri and say, ‘See? There it is!’"

Dan laughed. "I’m afraid I can’t do that."

The door opened behind him and a tall, classically handsome, dark-haired man came out. His eyes widened appreciatively upon seeing Dorothy. "Who’s this, Mangan? Be a gentleman for once and introduce us."

"Dorothy, meet my idiot friend, Brian," Dan said with a grin. "Brian decided to grace us with his presence this weekend." He looked over his shoulder at his friend. "Dorothy is a Jixemitri seeker."

"Oh…fantastic!" Brian said with a warm smile. "I’m usually stuck with my nose buried in a medical textbook. I haven’t met too many of you."

"I’m glad to meet you," Dorothy said, trying to curb her impatience. "Really, I am. I’m just rather…anxious to find my way there. It seems like I’ve been traveling for hours…days even!"

"Time does travel rather quickly when you’re knee-deep in universes," Brian agreed. "Let me go find Jim. He might be able to answer your questions."

As Brian disappeared back inside, Dorothy turned back to Dan, a puzzled look in her eyes. "What is it with Jim in this set of universes? I mean…why does he have all the answers?"

"Jim’s near and dear to Susan’s heart," Dan said with a wink. "The rest of us don’t really try to fight that too much." His dark eyes began to dance. "Well, none of us except Honey, that is."

A few seconds later, Jim opened the screen door and gave her a warm smile. "Hello, Dorothy. We’ve been expecting you."

"Don’t tell me that Riordan Grant is in this universe too!" she exclaimed.

"Nope," Jim said cheerfully. "Susan thought his ego was big enough." He grinned and gestured at her. "So, how can I help you?"

"I’m all turned around. I’ve been to so many Ten Acres that my head is swimming. I’d just like to find Jixemitri. Do you know anything about it?" she asked, not really expecting a positive answer.

Jim’s grin gentled and a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Well," he said, "it’s a wonderful place. It has to be. People don’t generally leave once they’ve found it."

"That makes it awfully hard for other people to find it," she said wryly. "Who’s going to lead the way there?"

"Oh, there are marks on the trail here and there," Jim said with a soft smile. "Just look for the mansions."

"The mansions? Like…Ten Acres?" She gestured around her. "Is this Jixemitri?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "But it’s kind of like here." He looked at Dan in helpless inquiry.

"What Jim’s trying to say is…Jix is a place where you always have people at your back," Dan said quietly. "Whatever kind of fires have ravaged your mansion, you’ll always find someone there who’ll help you rebuild it."

Dorothy’s face softened. "I have got to get to this place."

"Most definitely," Jim said firmly. He gestured back toward the path she’d come up on. "If you go that way, you should hit Glen Road. That’ll take you where you want to go." His eyes began to twinkle. "Eventually."

Dorothy thanked them and then turned to head down the hill toward the driveway when she ran smack dab into a tall, golden-haired girl.

"Oh, I’m so sorry," the girl said.

After Dorothy caught her breath, her eyes widened. "Honey?" She glanced toward the door where Mart had just joined his friends on the porch. Curiosity gleamed in her eyes. "You wouldn’t tell me…just between us…"

Honey chuckled and shook her head. "Nope." She winked. "The only person who knows how that’s going to end is me."

Dorothy watched her head toward the house with a sigh. Ah, well. I tried!

With a last, wistful look at Ten Acres, she turned and hurried down the long driveway to find that, once again, she was headed down Glen Road.

Author Notes

This story was originally written for Jixemitri's 5th anniversary's author group story. Thanks and kudos to Kyrie for organizing it and getting gorgeous graphics and so many people participating.

The references to Dorothy, the scarecrow, the yellow brick road, etc. are from L. Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz story. No profit being made by their use here.

Secret of the Mansion, of course, was written by Julie Campbell and Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.

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This page last checked and updated on September 12, 2009.