Bently McQuinn Saves Literature

“Ding, dong, the witch is dead, hi-dee-ho, the witch is dead!”

The rousing chorus of this song could be heard all throughout the Emerald City.

The chickens were gone, the people of Oz had been un-zombie-fied, the lights were all back on, and everything was back to its normal colour.

“Bently, we did it!” yelled Meggie, excited, over the crowd as they stood on the steps of the Wizard’s palace.

“Yeah,” said Bently, grinning. “WE FREAKING DID IT!”

“We banished Meyer forever!” added Lucy.

“And killed all the fairy vampires!” shouted Pansy.

“And we have a new master writer,” said King with a smile.

“Yes, yes we do indeed.”

Bently had no idea where this voice came from. The crowd went silent and parted, and through it walked Albus Dumbledore.

“Professor Dumbledore!” said Bently and Pansy at the same time, and they both knelt, Bently with Gryffindor’s Sword in front of him. His arm had been healed by Lucy, hopefully for the last time, and it held the sword with pride.

“Rise, children,” said Dumbledore. “Bently, on behalf of the entire world of literature, I cannot possibly thank you enough.”

Bently rose and looked at Dumbledore. His blue eyes were twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. “Well, erm, you know… no problem,” said Bently awkwardly. He really didn’t know what to say to his favorite professor. “Oh! Professor! I used your office when I wrote Pansy back from the Blank World, and I… sort of made a mess,” he confessed, turning a little pink.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Not a problem, my dear boy. And I would like to reward you, although it may seem trivial compared to what you’ve already done… give me your right hand, Bently.”

Bently held up his maimed hand. It had been electrocuted, burned, and a finger and a good part of it cut off. Dumbledore handled it gingerly, and Bently felt insecure giving Dumbledore his gimp hand.

“For your services to the literary world, Bently, I will grant you your hand, full and complete.”

“Really, sir?”

Dumbledore nodded. Bently was astonished. Could he really do that?

“If you would like, Bently.”

Bently was silent for a moment. “No,” he finally said. “No, I’ll pass.”

“You will, will you?”

“Yes,” said Bently, nodding firmly. “It’s a reminder of everything I’ve been through. Although, if you could make something… so that the Muggles don’t notice?”

Dumbledore chuckled lightly again. “Good choice, Bently. Indeed I shall.” He waved his wand, and the missing part of Bently’s hand filled itself in with a pale white replica of that section of his hand. “Only when you come to the literary world will it shine. In your world, it will look and function like a normal finger, but it won’t truly be.”

Bently examined it, thrilled. “Thank you, Professor Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore nodded to him slightly, and then turned to Pansy. “For you, Pansy Parkinson, you have shown bravery and skill beyond what anyone expected of you. You will receive an award for special services to the school, and I’ve heard the Ministry is looking for someone to lead their Cross-Dimension Affairs office.”

Pansy’s jaw dropped a bit. “R-really, Professor?”

“I wouldn’t lie,” he said a bit gravely. Pansy swallowed and nodded. “As for the other three of you, there is no reward I can give you, but perhaps your own people can.”

“That’s good enough for me,” said Lucy. “Although, I would like to go home now.”

“So would I,” added Meggie. “I miss Mo.”

“When you are ready, I will send you home.”

The five companions stood looking at each other awkwardly for a moment. “Well, I guess this is it,” said Pansy, breaking the silence. “Good bye, everyone. It was, well, interesting, to say the least.” Everyone smiled at her.

“Good luck at the Ministry, Pansy,” added Meggie.

“Thanks,” she replied. She looked at Bently, then gave him a quick hug. “Bye, Lightning McQueen.”

“Bye Pansy. Come get me if the Crazy ever show up again,” Bently joked.

She smiled, and then turned on the spot. She was gone.

“Looks like it’s me next, then,” said Lucy. She gave everyone a hug. “I’m going to miss all of you.” She was getting teary, along with Meggie. “Bently, try not to hurt yourself anymore, I won’t be around to heal you,” she reminded him with a weak laugh.

“I’ll try not to, but you know me,” Bently said, pulling her into a tight hug.

She smiled again, wiped some tears from her eyes, and when she turned, she too was gone.

“Me now,” Meggie said, barely able to control her tears. “It’s been a wild ride.”

“Sure has been,” Bently agreed, hugging her. “Read lots of books, okay?”

“And you write a lot of them,” Meggie replied. Then she was gone too.

Now it was just King and Bently. They shook hands as Bently fought back some tears. “Bently, you’re going to do great things,” King said, smiling. It made his eyes wrinkle up.

“You’d better keep writing, King, or else things might fall apart again.”

They turned to Dumbledore, who smiled. “Just turn on the spot, like you’re Apparating, and you’ll go home.”

King did so, and was gone. Bently was ready to go, too. He had had enough adventures for now.

“Goodbye, Professor Dumbledore.”

“Goodbye, Bently.”

And he turned on the spot and left Oz far behind.

-

“I’ll take Rothberg.”

Bently opened his eyes to find himself in the gym at school. In his original cloths, without a sword at his waist or a notebook and pen in a hidden pocket.

“Aidan, I guess,” said Robert Downs.

Bently looked down at his right hand. It was whole, but the flesh he had gotten back was slightly lighter than the rest of his hand.

“That’s not fair! I don’t want to be stuck with the Fairy Boy!” called out Landon angrily.

“Well, I don’t want him either!” Robert yelled back.

This was Bently’s cue. He looked up at Russell, who looked unsure.

Russell spoke up. “Hey, Robert, Bent can just play with us…”

Robert rounded on him angrily. “Shut up Russell, this is my team, not yours.”

“Boys, stop arguing!” shouted Coach Dunbar. “Bently, just join Robert’s team and let’s play!”

They went to their assigned half of the gym, but instead of standing over with Russell on the sidelines, Bently took up a position in the middle of their section.

“What do you think you’re doing, Fairy Boy?” asked Robert snidely.

“Playing dodge ball,” replied Bently coolly. Robert didn’t say anything back, but he did narrow his eyes at Bently.

The game started, and Bently’s reflexes he had built over however long he had been on his crazy-ass adventure kicked in. He got more people out on the other team than any other person on his team did, including Landon. Landon’s face was one of pure shock when Bently nailed him in the stomach with the dodge ball.

“Time! Robert’s team wins!”

They all stopped, panting, except for Bently. He was standing firmly, smirking. Russell rushed up to him. “Dude! I didn’t know you could play dodge ball!”

“A few months ago, I couldn’t,” said Bently mysteriously, and he left to go change.

He left the locker rooms and started for Mrs. Grist’s room to serve his detention. “There you are, McQuinn, sit down and finish taking notes,” she barked at him from over her desk when he entered. He sat down without question and pulled out a notebook and pen from his bag. But when he opened it up and looked at the page for a few moments, he didn’t want to take notes. He wanted to write. And so he did, his hand racing across the page until the bell rang that ended lunch.

“It was a sunny day, but not too sunny. More like one of those mediocre sunny days, ones that only normal things happen on. But today was a day that was far from a normal one…”