by Various
The Queen of Hearts couldn’t BELIEVE how many tourists there were, and she had to cover her eyes because of all the FLASHING CAMERAS and also because most of them were dressed up like Alice. She ran through the crowds – past all the pop-up coffee shops and smoothie bars and a supermarket that only sold ORGANIC SEEDS – all the way to the palace. And she must have shouted, ‘OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!’ about five hundred times on her way (especially when she saw anyone with a weird, twirly moustache, because those were new, and she DEFINITELY didn’t like them).
But when she got to the palace gates she saw that they were locked. The CHESHIRE CAT was there, and so was the MAD HATTER and the CATERPILLAR and loads of other people, and they were all holding up SIGNS that said stuff like ‘TEA FOR ME, PLEASE!’ and ‘BRING BACK CROQUET!’ and ‘SAY NO TO SMOOTHIES’.
And that’s when the Cheshire Cat came over to the Queen and said that he had something to tell her. So she asked what it was. And he asked HER what is was. And she asked HIM what it was. And it went on like that for ages until the Cheshire Cat EVENTUALLY told the Queen of Hearts that Wonderland was OUT OF CONTROL (and not the GOOD out of control that Wonderland usually was). And then everyone started going on about how there wasn’t any GRASS left because of all the Parkour parks, and that the GOATS had started nibbling at everyone’s ankles instead, and that there was actually only HALF A PACK of guards left.
And then the Caterpillar said that he was EXHAUSTED because all the coffee was making the Dormouse WILD and that he kept throwing MIDNIGHT dance parties and screaming into his new KARAOKE MACHINE.
The Mad Hatter said that he hadn’t had a cup of tea in almost TWO DAYS because Lil’ Queen had BANNED TEA, and that’s when the Queen of Hearts shouted, ‘ENOUGH OF THIS MADNESS! OPEN THIS GATE!’
And when what was left of one of the guards opened the gate the Queen GASPED.
And it wasn’t because of the giant light-up statue of Alice OR the hundreds of little Alice garden gnomes OR the new SUBWAY STATION next to the garden shed. It was because Lil’ Queen had ripped up her CROQUET FIELD and replaced it with a CONCRETE Parkour park.
Well, the Queen of Hearts stormed RIGHT into the palace and up to her daughter’s bedroom. But when she got there Lil’ Queen was lying on her bed and she was CRYING because she said no one LIKED any of the new stuff, and that she’d got loads of letters from people COMPLAINING that they didn’t like the SMOOTHIES because it didn’t matter which fruit you used, they always ended up tasting like banana.
That’s when the Queen of Hearts told Lil’ Queen that she knew she’d faked the UNWRITTEN WRITTEN RULE and that SHE was back in charge. And then she said she hoped Lil’ Queen understood now that it WASN’T EASY being in charge of a place like Wonderland and that she was sometimes a TEENY bit grumpy because it was hard work.
Lil’ Queen nodded and said that she would never EVER try to take over Wonderland again. And then she asked if she was going to have her head chopped off, but the Queen said that she wasn’t, but that she WAS grounded for FOUR WHOLE Croquet World Cups, and Lil’ Queen was so upset that she screamed for SIXTEEN FULL MINUTES. But the Queen of Hearts just stood there and stared at her until she eventually stopped screaming. And then she said, ‘Are you finished now?’ And Lil’ Queen said that she was.
So the Queen of Hearts went back out into Wonderland and started kicking down the pop-up coffee shops and pouring all the smoothies down the drain, and then she went into the ORGANIC SEED supermarket and told everyone to ‘STOP EATING SEEDS, FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE’ and to eat a sandwich instead. And then she made them all bring EVERY SINGLE SEED that was in the supermarket and lay them down on top of the concrete Parkour park at the palace and water them until the grass grew back (which happened right away because it was Wonderland, and the grass actually grew so quickly that someone had to go and get the goats ten minutes after they’d watered the seeds).
The Queen of Hearts was DELIGHTED with the new grass because it looked even better than the old grass, and she couldn’t WAIT to play croquet.
That’s when the King of Hearts appeared, and he had one of the TWIRLY MOUSTACHES and was wearing a knitted hat and jeans that were a bit too short and tight for him.
The King of Hearts looked a bit scared, and it was obvious that he was worried that the Queen was going to be MEGA ANGRY with him because he hadn’t tried to do anything to stop Lil’ Queen from taking over. But the Queen WASN’T angry with him. She just told him to go and make her a cheese-and-ham sandwich and to shave his moustache off IMMEDIATELY.
And then she smiled a TINY SMILE, and it was a real smile. And the King of Hearts smiled back. And they were smiling at each other because the Queen had spotted his ‘YOLO’ bracelet, and she knew that HE was the one who’d given her the NOTE and also that he was her BIGGEST FAN.
As soon as the Queen finished eating her sandwich, everyone CHEERED and said it was good to have her back (and they waited until she was definitely finished with her sandwich to cheer because they knew better than to interrupt her when she was having her lunch).
After that, the Queen put Wonderland back the way it used to be. Tourists were only allowed to come ONCE A WEEK so that they could visit the giant Alice statue, which she’d decided she liked because she was going to have the feet turned into CAKE so that she could look out of her window and watch Alice’s feet get eaten every Tuesday.
And even though the Queen said that she didn’t LIKE any of the new stuff, every night she would wait until people were in their beds, and then she’d sneak out and run around Wonderland doing PARKOUR. Because she thought it was BRILLIANT jumping on and off stuff, and actually she was quite good at it.
The Sensible Hatter
by Maz Evans
A chatty, silly show-off who likes to drink tea all day? It’s hard to say what drew me to the Hatter! Wonderland is one of my earliest memories of a story transporting me to another realm as a bookworm child, and it is an immense privilege to spend some time here as a grown-up writer. Like the Hatter, I see the world in a slightly different way sometimes and not everyone sees it the way I do. My story is a chance to explore how the Hatter might be feeling inside, the side that perhaps his friends don’t see. It’s always good to step into someone else’s shoes and try to look at the world from their point of view. If everyone did, there would be far less arguing and far more time to do very important things. Like drinking tea . . .
Maz Evans
‘Anyone for gravy?’
The Hatter held his teapot aloft and watched his guests groan into their daffodil sandwiches. His heart sank. He just didn’t understand it.
Every day at six o’clock, he would throw a really fun tea party. He always had a great time, but lately the Hatter had started to feel that no one else was enjoying themselves quite as much as he was.
He looked around his tea table. The Dodo spat out the armchair quiche. The Mock Turtle turned up his snout at the sausage scones. And none of the playing cards were eating the cupcakes – even though they were made from real cups. This was a fantabulous tea party. He’d even taken away the chairs to make it less boring. What was he doing wrong?
‘I’ve got a splendaricious idea! Let’s sing a song!’ he cried. ‘How about “Ring a Ring o’ Noses”?’
‘No,’ said Bill the Lizard with a sigh.
‘OK . . . “Baa Baa Black Ferret”?’
‘Not again,’ grumbled the Gryphon.
‘“Old MacDonald Had a Cheesecake”?’
‘MAY B L8R,’ the Caterpillar spelled out with his smoke.
‘Hey – what did we say about smoking at the table?’ The March Hare coughed as he poured another cup of sweetcorn juice.
‘It’s a vape,’ huffed the Caterpillar. ‘I’m trying to quit—’
The alarm clock in the jelly rang, signalling that teatime was at an end. Everyone started to hurry away.
‘Same time tomorrow?’ the Hatter called after his Wonderland friends.
‘Oh, er, tomorrow?’ sai
d the White Rabbit, looking at his watch upside down. ‘I really have to . . . wash my fur.’
‘I can’t make it either,’ the Mock Turtle hastily declared. ‘I have to . . . water my garden.’
‘But – you live in a pond,’ said the Hatter.
‘Um . . . precisely!’ said the Mock Turtle. ‘Imagine if it ran out of water!’
‘I can’t make it for the rest of the week,’ said the Cheshire Cat’s head. ‘I really must go to the dental hygienist.’
‘All right,’ said the Hatter sadly. ‘I’ll see you, then, Caterpillar.’
‘NO,’ the Caterpillar exhaled simply. ‘GOT 2 GO.’
‘Oh. OK,’ said the Hatter quietly as everyone raced off. ‘Well, have a wondoodleful day!’
But everyone had already left.
‘What am I doing wrong?’ he asked the March Hare as he put his feet up on the dirty dishes. He hated cleaning up. It just wasn’t tremenderful.
‘Nothing,’ said the March Hare, tipping the sleeping Dormouse out of the teapot. ‘I think they were very rude. If they don’t appreciate your hospitality, that’s their problem, not yours.’
‘Well . . . not everyone said they weren’t coming,’ the Hatter mused aloud.
‘Er . . . they sort of did . . .’ the March Hare whispered.
‘So tomorrow, I’ll just have to . . . throw the best tea party EVER!’ said the Hatter. ‘Now where’s my recipe for welly-boot jam . . . ?’
At six twenty-two the following day, the Hatter and the March Hare were sitting alone at the table. The Hatter dipped his watch in the teapot to check it was working.
‘How strange,’ he said. ‘I wonder where everyone is?’
The Dormouse, who had been woken up by the watch landing on his head, yawned. ‘Aardvarks,’ he said.
‘Let’s just enjoy our tea,’ said the March Hare. ‘These dandelion biscuits look lovely . . .’
A peal of laughter from the other side of the wood caught the Hatter’s ear. Whatever it was sounded more fun than sitting at a nearly empty tea table.
‘Back in a minutsicle,’ he said, leaving the March Hare shaking his head behind him.
The Hatter hopped his way through the trees – he often hopped so that he didn’t wear both his shoes out. The noise was getting louder – it was coming from the White Rabbit’s house, just around the next corner . . .
As he arrived, he couldn’t comprehend the scene that greeted him. But, as his eyes adjusted, he realized that they weren’t deceiving him at all.
It was another tea party. And everyone in Wonderland was there.
He surveyed the tea table. There were cups of hot tea, finger sandwiches, pretty cakes and biscuits . . . It looked so boring. Why would anyone want to eat that?
‘Um – hi, everyone!’ he called over the happy hubbub, bringing it to an embarrassed hush. ‘I thought you were all busy this evening.’
A guilty murmuring came in response.
‘Look,’ said the White Rabbit eventually, ‘it’s not that your parties aren’t . . . interesting. It’s just we all felt that if we were going to go to a tea party, we’d all like . . . well . . . some actual tea—’
‘I do serve actual tea!’ interrupted the Hatter defensively.
‘With croutons floating in it,’ whispered Tweedledum.
‘Or in an upside-down cup,’ said Tweedledee.
‘Or not at all if it’s the fourth of May,’ grumbled the Gryphon.
‘Well, who wants tea on the fourth of May?’ scoffed the Hatter.
‘WE DO!’ everyone shouted.
‘Your parties are just a bit . . . silly,’ the White Rabbit declared. ‘Would it hurt to be a bit more . . . sensible?’
‘Sensible?’ the Hatter repeated. He’d never thought of that before. ‘Well . . . I suppose—’
‘Super! That’s sorted, then!’ said the Cheshire Cat’s grin. ‘See you at six o’clock tomorrow.’
‘Great,’ mumbled the Hatter as he hopped sadly back through the woods. Sensible, he thought. He had no idea how to be sensible. Sensible was . . . well, it was just too . . . sensible. It really wasn’t him. He couldn’t help being silly. It was like a condition—
Suddenly, inspiration struck. Maybe that was the problem! He needed to find a cure for his silliness if he was to become sensible. And if he wanted a cure there was only one person who could help him.
‘So how can I help you?’ asked Dr Liddell, the Wonderland Doctor, early the following morning. ‘You haven’t been eating oysters with the Walrus and the Carpenter, have you? They’ve had food poisoning for days . . . Or have you been running in the Caucus race? I keep telling them – if they won’t warm up, they will pull hamstrings . . .’
‘No, no – nothing like that,’ said the Hatter, balancing his hat on the end of his big toe. ‘I need to be more sensible. I need you to cure my silliness.’
‘Ah – the Sillies.’ The Doctor smiled. ‘There’s a lot of that about.’
‘Can you cure me?’ asked the Hatter.
‘Being silly isn’t something to be cured,’ the Doctor said. ‘It’s part of who you are.’
‘But what if I don’t want to be silly any more?’ asked the Hatter.
‘Well, that’s a different matter,’ said the Doctor. ‘Perhaps you can choose not to be silly. Although, are you sure you want to?’
‘Yes!’ cried the Hatter. ‘All of my friends think I’m too silly. If I change, they’ll come to my tea parties again.’
‘A friend who wants you to be someone else isn’t really friends with you,’ said the doctor.
‘But I want to be sensible,’ pleaded the Hatter. ‘Please.’
Dr Liddell gave him a long, hard look.
‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,’ he said eventually, reaching into his cupboard. ‘I’m going to give you two medicines.’
Dr Liddell pulled out two items. One was a pink cake with EAT ME written in currants across the top. The other was a small orange bottle, which had the words DRINK ME printed in green letters on its label.
‘The first,’ Dr Liddell told the Hatter, ‘will make you sensible. But, if you don’t like it, the second will change you back. I’ll leave the choice entirely to you.’
The Hatter gratefully took the first and read the instructions on the label.
‘Take two nibbles of EAT ME at four-hourly intervals to cure the Sillies,’ he read aloud. ‘Warning: possible side effects include sound financial planning and practical footwear.’
‘Two spoonfuls of this DRINK ME will reverse all the effects if you so choose,’ the doctor told him, handing the second medicine over.
‘Thanks, Doctor!’ said the Hatter, springing up from his seat.
‘My pleasure,’ said the Doctor. ‘One way or another, I hope you feel better soon.’
But the Hatter was already hopping out of the door.
The moment he was outside the Doctor’s surgery, the Hatter looked at the two remedies in his hands. He stuffed the bottle in his cardigan pocket.
‘Won’t be needing that,’ he said under his breath – and instead took two nibbles of the cake. He shut his eyes and waited to be sensible.
Nothing happened.
The Hatter stood there for he didn’t know how long with his eyes scrunched tight, but he felt no different whatsoever.
He opened his eyes and let out a big sigh. How very disappointing. He had so hoped that the Doctor would cure him. He started to hop home.
‘Actually,’ he muttered to himself, ‘hopping is a highly inefficient way of moving around. And it doesn’t actually save my shoes, as I hop on both feet equally. A brisk walk would make more sense. It’s excellent cardiovascular exercise while making fewer demands on my muscles.’
The Hatter walked home carefully. He looked up at the trees lining his route. The weather must have changed since he went to the Doctor – everything seemed rather . . . grey. Usually he enjoyed wiping the tears of a weeping willow or spreading jam on the breadfruit trees
. But, now he knew he’d never be sensible, that all just seemed a bit silly. Perhaps he’d come back and plant some nice plain fir trees. Why would anyone want gum trees blowing big pink bubbles at them?
The Hatter loosened his yellow necktie. Now he thought about it, a long coat and tie were impractical choices for the spring, when the weather was statistically likely to be fair. And a top hat was rather overdressed for a weekday – in fact, upon reflection, it was a silly item of clothing to wear every day. Perhaps he should take it back to the shop? Thank goodness he’d had the good sense to keep the receipt. Besides, a shopping trip might cheer him up. Yes, he might never be sensible, but at least he could dress more practically for daily life. He walked up to the crossroads, ignoring a catkin trying to purr at him on the way, and headed for the Wonderland clothing shop.
‘Wow – what happened to you?’ said the March Hare as the Hatter walked through his front door.
‘Nothing much,’ said the Hatter. ‘I just thought I’d buy some new clothes. My others were silly.’
‘If you say so,’ said the March Hare, looking at him curiously. ‘I liked them. And . . . a brown cardigan?’
‘It’s a sound choice for this climate,’ said the Hatter. ‘Paired with this beige shirt, I have the option of its warmth, or I can discard it in pleasant weather.’
‘Where’s your hat?’ asked the March Hare.
‘I exchanged it for these sturdy walking shoes,’ said the Hatter, demonstrating the solid brown footwear. ‘These will make my thirty minutes of daily exercise much easier.’
‘I see,’ said the March Hare. ‘Hatter, I—’
‘And that’s another thing,’ the Hatter interrupted. ‘I’ve been thinking about my name. It feels silly to be called by my job – after all, who is named after a description of themselves?’
‘Er . . . the Cheshire Cat, the Caterpillar, the Queen of Hearts, the White Rabbit, all the cards, me . . .’