Chapter Four - The Tinman

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AS WE PASS by an old pile of metal, we hear groaning. We all freeze, looking around for the noise.

"What is that?" Dorothy asks quietly.

"I'm not sure, but it sounds like something we should probably stay away from." I reply.

"It's comin' from over there," the Scarecrow says, pointing towards the sound.

"What should we do?" My cousin asks, uncertain.

"Go over there," the Scarecrow points in the opposite direction and begins walking away.

Dorothy looks at me for help. "Seconded," I say, following the Scarecrow.

She sucks her teeth and grabs both our arms. "Someone's in trouble!"

"What that got to do with us?" I grumble, stumbling along behind my cousin.

"Well, I've seen some dope fresh crockpots in my day, but nothin' ever like him!" The Scarecrow says, while Dorothy desperately tries to hush him.

There's what seems to be a man made of tin, frozen midway through climbing up a tower of metal.

"He's tryna say somethin'," Dorothy says, getting closer to the Tinman.

He says something inaudible, and Dorothy asks: "What was that?"

The Tinman rolls his eyes and tries again: "I need oil!"

"He said he needs oil!" I announce. I guess he's all rusted up, and can't even move his jaw. After a brief search, the Scarecrow finds a can of oil, with a little spout on it. I take it and oil the Tinmans' jaw, so he can tell us what else he needs.

"Whew!" He sighs in relief, flexes his jaw, then sings a cool song about where we need to oil him and how he's been there for a while. It takes a minute, but we get him oiled up so that he can move properly again. At one point during his song, he chucks Dorothy under her chin, which is endearing to me, because I do that to her all the time. The Tinman does a dance break in his song, so that he can really move around his joints. He has a really great singing voice, reminding me of Chump back home. He was always singing or humming something, and he always sounded great. At the end of the song, he goes down on one knee, takes my hand, and kisses my knuckles, which is pretty charming. Damn, I think to myself, he's hot, charming, and he can sing? He's like the whole package. Dorothy and the Scarecrow burst into applause.

"How can I ever thank you?" The Tinman asks me, eyes sparkling.

"Well, you can start by saying goodbye," the Scarecrow takes my hand away from the Tinman and begins walking away. "Come on, girls, let's go."

"Wait," Dorothy calls after us, and I drag the Scarecrow to a stop.

"Come on now, Scarecrow, just give him a chance." I tell him quietly. "How did you get all rusted up like that ?" I ask the Tinman.

"Uh, well, would you mind?" He offers his elbow to Dorothy, and she and I help him up. "There we go! Well uh, I was out here fixin' stuff, tinkerin' one night when the strangest storm blew in. 'Fore I could duck for cover, I's rusted solid."

"That's terrible," Dorothy says, as I shake my head in pity for the poor Tinman.

"Yeah, well, that's life," the Scarecrow says, "c'mon girls, let's go!" He grabs both of our hands and tries to pull us away, but we both let go at the same time and turn back to the Tinman.

"I gotta say," I give the Scarecrow a look, "I've never met a man made of tin before."

"Well, you never met a talking Scarecrow either. I guess it's just one of those days. Can we go now?" The Scarecrow asks desperately, pointing away from the Tinman.

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