from the 1900 novel by L. Frank Baum, re-set in 2026
adaptation by Scooter Willis (this chapter simulated by the assistant at the adapter's request, 2026-09-21/22)
An empty outdoor court on the edge of a small Kansas town. Dorothy, alone, in the 22 jersey and high-tops, dribbles once and puts up a long three from well behind the arc. Nothing but net. Toto sits under the hoop and watches the ball drop through. She gets it, walks back out, shoots again. Nothing but net.
Another three. Net. Toto's head follows the ball up and down. Dorothy does not smile; this is work.
DOROTHY
All net, and we go home.
She shoots. Nothing but net. Toto barks once and gets up. She scoops the ball, tucks it under one arm and walks for the gate without a glance back; Toto trots after her.
The red Mustang, top down, fast, radio loud, Toto upright in the passenger seat barking at the wind, Dorothy's braid whipping. A chain-link fence, soldiers at a gate, low gray buildings, a sign: QUANTUM LEAP - gone in a second, dust standing in the air behind the car. Then miles of corn, gray and failing, to the horizon.
The Mustang comes up the gravel drive too fast and a cloud of dust rolls over Uncle Henry, bent over the tractor's engine. As she passes, Dorothy honks twice and waves; Toto, upright in the passenger seat, barks at him. Henry straightens in the settling dust, gray from beard to boots, looks after the car, lifts one hand a little - the nearest he comes to a wave - and then looks up at the sky, which is grayer than usual. The Mustang stops by the house; Dorothy swings out over the door, ball under one arm, and walks for the kitchen door, Toto at her heel.
Aunt Em at the sink with her back to the door, thin and gaunt. Dorothy in the doorway in the jersey and high-tops, Toto pushing in past her legs. The radio still faintly from the yard.
AUNT EM
There are chores on this farm that don’t get done while a person throws a ball at a hoop. The dog stays outside. And take those shoes off—you’re tracking in dirt.
Dorothy puts Toto out on the step with her foot, does not take the shoes off, leans on the door frame.
DOROTHY
Basketball is my way off this farm. It’s a scholarship, if it’s anything.
AUNT EM
The school doesn’t even have a girls’ team.
DOROTHY
Then I’ll try out for the boys’ team. There’s no rule against it.
Aunt Em finally turns and looks at her: a woman who was young and pretty once, and does not smile now. Dorothy laughs - one short laugh - and Aunt Em's hand goes to her heart.
Uncle Henry sits on the doorstep looking up at the sky. Dorothy stands in the doorway with Toto at her side on the step and looks up too. Through the door, Aunt Em at the dishes. Aunt Em's phone lies on the counter beside her.
AUNT EM
The county alert went off an hour ago. I turned it off.
UNCLE HENRY
Sky says the same.
From the far north a low wail of wind; the long grass bows in waves. Then a sharp whistling from the south, and as they turn that way, ripples in the grass coming from that direction too. Toto's ears go back.
Uncle Henry stands up.
UNCLE HENRY
There’s a tornado coming, Em. I’ll go look after the stock.
He runs for the barn where the cows and horses are kept.
Aunt Em drops the dish and comes to the door. One look at the sky.
AUNT EM
Quick, Dorothy! Run for the shelter!
Toto bolts from Dorothy's side and hides under the kitchen table.
DOROTHY
Toto! Here!
Dorothy goes after him. Aunt Em runs out to the storm cellar beside the house, throws back the two slanting steel doors and goes down the steps into the dark. Dorothy gets hold of Toto; halfway across the kitchen the wind shrieks, the house shakes, and she sits down hard on the floor.
From outside, from a distance: the white house whirls around two or three times and rises slowly into the air, the cellar doors shut in the ground below it. No one visible. Wind only.
Dark. Wind. Dorothy on the kitchen floor, Toto beside her, the room tilting slowly; the house tips badly once, then rocks gently, like a cradle. She holds the table leg and rides it.
Toto runs about the kitchen barking, now here, now there. Dorothy sits quite still on the floor and waits.
DOROTHY
It’s all right. We wait.
The kitchen door has blown open on black roaring air. Toto too near it - and out.
DOROTHY
Toto—!
Her face. Then one white ear sticking up over the sill, held by the wind. She creeps to the door, catches the ear, drags him in, and forces the door shut.
Hours. Dorothy alone on the swaying floor, the wind shrieking, her hands over her ears. At last she crawls over the swaying floor to her little room at the back and lies down on her bed; Toto climbs up and lies down beside her.
Her eyes close, and she sleeps.