Yes, O’Melk went to New Mexico. The boy - despite his aging body, there is something about him that sounds absurdly childish - would jump at Chance, anytime she would stumble down Happenstance Lane.

(Pay close attention: were he not still a boy, he would not, in most probability, be able of such delinquent and juvenile act of jumping upon somebody - specially Chance) 

It is a funny thing, people’s idiossyncrasies. O’Melk was not any different in that, for although he knew all too well that there are no such things as witches and fairies, he still would look under the airplane’s wheels for beautiful red boots. Yes, boots: -“No way a witch would show her feet to anyone - unless she wanted to scare somebody to death, that’s certain. Pump shoes? Not a possibility I can fathom, no, no; for fairies, mayhap.”

He did not trust houses when it came to journeys: they have the horrendous habit of landing wherever they find so fit which, usually, is nowhere near the places he wants to visit. He would rather keep his own feet, unafraid.

And that was exactly O’Melk’s mood when he came across those remarkable red shoes at an art store, in Albuquerque. He thought, ”Are these shoes like that magic ring, that one that fits to any finger size? What if it’s appearance changed, as well as its size? Could this be Dorothy’s shoes?”

One never knows; the shoes should be tried on. Frankly, O’Melk did not wish to do so: Albuquerque was far too interesting to risk being taken home.  

Nevermind. It’s about the stripes this story should have been all about.

(only much later he did remember that Dorothy’s shoes were not red, but silver; and that it was necessary to say magic words - magic or no, he thought the enchantment was untrue, if not an overstatement - in order to really, really cast the tripping spell)