She gently pushed him back and walked down the hall to her room. She sat on the bed and reached into her nightstand, fumbling around until she pulled out a new syringe. Tying her arm off, she pulled out her lighter and heated the heroin in a metal spoon. When everything was finally ready, she injected the needle and let the drug take her away to somewhere distant.
Chapter 11
“I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” Cheshire remarked, trotting across the meadow to Avia in his cat form.
In the years since their meeting, Avia’s powers had evolved to sculpt the magic of the Spirit World to her every whim. She sat on a throne of cotton candy, licking a lollipop the size of her head. Surrounding her were her loyal soldiers.
She had transformed her favorite deck of playing cards into a legion of loyal servants, ready at her beck and call. At the present moment, one fanned her with a palm leaf while another massaged her feet. They each resembled shirtless male models. Each card’s symbol was tattooed in the center of their chest. That same symbol appeared smaller on different parts of their body. On their backs were the imprints of the original card.
“What’s up, Ches?” Avia asked. “Want some cotton candy?” She offered him the handful she’d just pulled from the arm of her throne.
“No, I’m good,” he said, absently pawing at a daisy.
Standing up, Avia waved her hand and reverted her soldiers back to a deck of cards. After securing the deck in her back pocket, she stepped down from the throne and squatted in front of him.
“Cheshire?”
“Remember when I said there were other spirits here?”
She nodded. “We see them all the time. This is the Spirit World after all.”
“Yeah, but I’m talking about the Free Spirits; the ones that normally don’t stick around too long.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember you said they were a little crazy. I mean I’ve seen a couple pass through every now and then, but they normally don’t stop to chat.” She waited for a reply, but he was silent. Even without his human features, she could read him like a book. He was fidgeting far more than usual and had already scratched a small clearing in the grass. He also hadn’t looked up since he arrived.
“Something’s bothering you,” Avia said gently.
Cheshire sighed. “I think there may be someone who can help with your… problem.”
Avia’s eyes widened. “You mean about not being able to stay here?”
He nodded and turned away. “There’s sorcerer I met a long time ago. He can travel between Earth and the aether as he pleases and stays as long as he wants.”
“Why haven’t you told me about him before?!” Avia yanked the cat up to meet her glare.
“Because he’s the embodiment of what I meant by ‘We’re all mad here!’” Cheshire faded out of her arms and reappeared on the ground. “The man lives entirely in his own mind. Anyone who’d try to reason with him would have to be just as gone.”
“Then why bring him up now?”
“Because at this rate, you’re going to find yourself in the same state he’s in!”
Avia froze. Cheshire ran his paws down his face and took a deep breath. “Do you remember what I told you when you first came? You. Can. Not. Stay. Here. Yet, every night you put yourself at risk of tearing your soul to shreds!”
She was speechless. As long as she’d known him, Cheshire had never questioned her actions. No matter what, he was a neutral party. She figured he probably wasn’t an advocate of her life choices, but she would never have guessed he was that concerned.
Avia felt a sting of guilt for putting him in that position, then another when she realized she’d have to do it again. She hated herself for it, but regardless of who, or what, this sorcerer was—her mind was made up. She looked down at the cat, his head hung low.
“I have to meet him, Cheshire. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know,” he whispered.
“Where do we need to go?”
“There’s a part of the aether that’s been abandoned by the spirits. It was cut off from the rest of the Spirit World when the magician made it his home.”
“Then how are we supposed to get there?”
He looked off into the distance. “If I rest on your shoulder, I can take us there in an instant. Our spirits will pass through the barriers like air.”
“Okay.” She exhaled. “Let’s go then.”
“Alright. But I want to warn you, when we arrive, we’ll appear in the very center of the Dark Forest. If he finds you interesting, he may be inclined to help. If not… Well, let’s just hope your personality charms him.”
“Ches,” Avia said, kneeling in front of him, “why should we be so scared?”
“He’s unstable; his mood is ever changing. He could grant a wish, knowing full well it’d kill the asker. Or, furious that he was disturbed, he could snap his fingers and watch the person be eaten alive by piranhas. Or, he could fulfill the request and everyone leaves happy. Years ago, I—” He wiped his face with his paws again and shuddered.
Avia placed a hand on his small frame. Her breath caught at the pain and fear in his eyes. “What has this guy done to you?”
“Do you trust me, Avia?”
She nodded.
“Then trust me when I say this. I pray that you never find out.”
Avia nodded again, noting the graveness in his voice. She had never seen him afraid; something about this sorcerer sent chills down his spine. She knew she was being selfish, and was possibly putting both of them in danger, but that small voice of guilt was quickly lost by the booming staccato beat of her heart. But she had to meet him. She had to know if there was hope beyond just the small glimpse at every high.
“What’s his name?” she asked as Cheshire disappeared again. She couldn’t physically feel him, but she knew he had perched himself upon her shoulder. It was like his spirit itself had a weight to it. His head appeared next to hers and he woefully turned to meet her eyes.
“He’s known by many names, but here, it is simply the Mad Hatter.”
Avia had always wondered how Cheshire vanished like a phantom. Her body disappeared from the bottom up, thinning into the atmosphere like wisps of smoke. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but was surprised to find that she didn’t feel anything at all. Before she could process what was happening, they were somewhere else entirely.
The bright, golden sun had been replaced by a veil of mist. Fog sank downward to flow between bare, claw-like branches of the twisted trees surrounding them. What light penetrated the forest floor was pale white and cast ominous shadows on everything it touched. Spirit bats screeched as they flew overhead while hundreds of glowing eyes stalked them from the darkness.
The forest encircled them for at least a hundred feet, leaving them in a clearing littered with dead leaves and broken sticks. Before them was a large, round table covered in a worn, white tablecloth. Saucers, cups, teapots, amongst other delicate china, decorated the table. The strangest thing was that the table didn’t have legs. Instead, it floated in the air, slowly spinning in a clockwise motion.
Avia looked away and wandered about the clearing. She felt incredibly small in the looming darkness that surrounded them.
“This is it, huh?” she asked absently.
“Yeah,” Cheshire breathed. He stayed as close to Avia as possible.
“I’m glad you made it!” a loud voice boomed from behind.
Jumping, they both whirled around, shocked to see a man sitting cross-legged on the table. He must have suddenly appeared, as Cheshire often did, because he would have been impossible to miss. He was very tall and garbed in an old but elegant suit. It was black with shining gold bands that went across the cuffs and down the side of his legs.
On his head of mauve curls sat a large, elaborate top hat. Blue ribbon matching his vest ran along the base of the hat with an Ace of Spades stuck between the material. Stranger than everything else, however, was his skin. It was blue. The co
lor stretched all the way down to his feet, which oddly enough, were bare.
“Cheshire!” he exclaimed, holding out his arms. At his words, Cheshire materialized in the strange man’s embrace. “How long has it been? Two years? Twenty? You know how I lose track of time.”
Avia stared at the two, confusion riddling her face. This was the terrifying sorcerer? He looked to be more like an old friend than a mysterious foe. But the longer she watched the reunion, the more one-sided it became. Cheshire never replied to their host, or even looked him in the eye. The man eventually released his grip and Cheshire misted away to reappear beside Avia. This was when the man finally noticed her presence. His face went rigid. The joy that had been there moments before shifted to perplexity and possible annoyance.
A water pipe materialized at his feet and he brought the tip to his mouth. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled.
The smoke from his lips reshaped in the air to mirror his words. “Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Avia,” she said, taking a step closer. “I assume you’re the Mad Hatter?”
“In the spirit,” he replied, appearing at the end of the table closest to them. He leaned in and studied her face. Everything in her body screamed to lunge back and take her chances with whatever horrors awaited them in the woods. But as their eyes met, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.
“Ahh,” he whispered. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was sitting on the back end of the table, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Would you like some?” He thrust his cup towards her and steaming liquid sloshed across his arm. He didn’t seem to notice.
“Umm… no, thank you,” Avia shakily replied. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “I actually had to ask you a question.”
“Well of course, my dear.” He extended his hand and two wooden dining chairs appeared in front of them. Avia nervously sat down and glanced at Cheshire, who still hadn’t said a word since they arrived. His head was hung low and he was clearly avoiding the Hatter’s gaze.
“Cheshire tells me I was born a dreamwalker,” Avia began, turning back to the sorcerer. “I’ve figured out different ways of entering the aether, but I can’t stay. I want to know how you can go freely between worlds for as long as you want.”
“You are a dreamwalker. A very powerful one indeed…” His words drifted as he leaned close again and poked her in the forehead. “As should be expected from the fourth.”
Avia pulled back. “Excuse me?”
“Never mind, sorry, talking aloud.” He took another puff from his pipe. “Anyway, why do you want to stay here? Earth has so many beautiful things. Did you know there are over three thousand different types of tea?”
“Yes, I believe I heard that somewhere before, but—”
“And this!” he punched his arm to the side and his entire forearm vanished. His shoulder jerked and twisted until he seemed to find what he was searching for. Pulling his arm back into existence, he was now holding an ice cream cone, the four scoops teetering warily in his hand.
“You’ve obviously never had mint chocolate chip,” he said matter-of-factly. He slowly licked it twice before swallowing the entire thing in one gulp, cone and all.
“I don’t care about ice cream, or tea,” Avia grumbled, growing irritated with his lack of concern.”
“Explain.” He tilted his head curiously as the teacup reconjured in his hand.
“When I’m here, I feel alive. I can do anything and go anywhere. When I go back, there’s a noose around my neck and it feels like I’m just waiting for someone to kick the block from under me.”
“I don’t see,” he replied distractedly. His hands were fumbling behind him, trying to reach for a scone.
“I don’t know what else to say,” Avia sighed. “I don’t even understand it myself; by the end of the day I end up having been so many different people, it gets hard to keep track. I don’t know, it’s really confusing...”
“It isn’t. Well, at least not as confusing as you make it.”
She sighed again, too tired to argue with him. “I just… I’m tired and I can’t take it anymore.”
“What other choice do you have?” His voice was serious. The bizarre, eccentric being had been replaced by something much more stoic.
“To be like you.”
“Well, you can’t be like me. It’s as simple as that.”
“But why?!”
“Because deary, you’re quite mad.”
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” Avia spat heatedly.
“Well, me? I know I’m mad. You’re still in denial.”
Avia crossed her arms. “I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I have a few screws loose. ‘We’re all mad here,’ right?”
“No, no. Well, yes, possibly later, but right now, no. You want to leave because you’re empty. You’re sad. But really, you’re mad. Cross, vexed, piktas, iratus, duka, nervos, enojado, arrabbiato, en colére. Pissed off.”
“What?”
“Your wrath supersedes any rational explanation. Yes, your parents made awful mistakes, as is expected from mortals. Yes, you had a terrible experience with that beastly Columbian man. Yes, I’m sure you could get prescribed anti-depressants if you actually went to a therapist, but there’s something more! Driving all of that is the burning ember of wrath burrowed in your chest. You hate the world and everyone in it, but if you were to ever admit that, then you’d feel even worse. Because what kind of good person could possibly hate what she is— human.”
Avia jumped out of her chair and slammed her hands on the table. “Bitch, you don’t even know me! What are you talking about?!”
“But I do know,” the Hatter calmly replied. “You’re exactly li—” he paused, glancing at Cheshire then back to her. “The answer is no.”
“Shut up!” Avia screamed, swiping the china to the ground. “I’m tired of your games!” Tears streamed down her face as the hardened composure she’d kept since their arrival shattered. “Please! Just teach me how to stay! I don’t—I can’t go back!”
“You can never stay here, Avia,” he said, standing up. He turned around and began to walk away, his feet simply passing through the dishes. When he reached the end, he stopped and his shoulders fell. He sighed audibly and shook his head. “Did Cheshire tell you nothing?”
Chapter 12
Avia awoke in her bed disoriented. She wiped the sleep from her eyes to see the alarm clock read 3:52 p.m. Turning her head, she spotted her cello, still on its stand across the room. The pile of dirty laundry was still towering past the foot of her bed. Nothing had changed. Rage tore free as she thrashed in her blankets screaming. She had been so close. She had met him, been close enough to touch him, and yet here she was again. The Spirit World had rejected her, just as it had done countless times before.
Accompanied with a new level of bitterness to start the day, Avia finally dragged herself out of bed. Stepping into the living room, she looked around nervously. She went back and checked the bedrooms, then the bathroom. Where was he?
“Cheshire?” she called out.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he called back. A smoky outline slowly faded into existence. The lines of his body and clothes quickly followed with growing opacity until he was sitting on the couch. He was staring across the room, hand over mouth in deep thought. Turning his head in her direction, he seemed to finally register she was there.
“Good morning, Avi. How are you doing after, umm…”
“I’m fine, Ches.”
She walked over to the coffee table and started loading up her bookbag. She was about to ask why he had acted so strange around the Hatter, but stopped herself. He had allowed her six years of privacy, never once prying into her past. If he wanted to share, he would. Until then, she would just go on as if nothing had happened.
“You were right, the guy was completely useless. He’s a freaking lunatic.” She threw the bag over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. If staying means I’
d end up as crazy as he is, then it’s not worth it. I actually do have a lesson. Were you coming? I think the cafeteria should have that chicken casserole thing you liked before.”
He shook his head and settled back into the cushions. “I think I’m just going to stay in today.”
“What a surprise,” Avia laughed. She grabbed her wallet off the counter, felt to make sure she had everything, then headed out the door.
After suffering through what seemed like an endless day of reteaching twelve-year-olds the pentatonic scale, Avia locked herself away in the piano practice suite. The cello was her main instrument, but the grands called out to her. She could connect with a piano without the separation of a bow. Her fingers flawlessly sailed across the ocean of ivory keys, carrying her out to waters previously claimed by Chopin, Bach, and Beethoven. By the time she finally washed back to shore, it was nearly dusk.
She locked the practice room, put in her headphones, and made her way out of the empty building. Avia always forgot how early the campus seemed to wind down. The residents had retreated to their dorms, and the commuters had long since left the grounds. It was only a five-minute walk to Rachel’s room from where she was sitting. Maybe eight to Danna’s. Instead, she shoved off the good memories, and the pain they brought, and sat on the nearest bench. Chin perched in her hands, she tried to think of something to do that didn’t involve going home.
Avia jumped when a hand silently removed one of her earbuds. There was a guy about her age sitting next to her on the bench, headbanging as he listened to her music through the hijacked earbud. After a few seconds, she recognized him from one of the dorms. Noah. He was cute; about six-foot, chiseled jaw, wavy brown hair, and all muscle.
He just wasn’t her type. She preferred the quiet of her mind, while he was, well… a jock.
“Slow down there, mosh pit,” Avia remarked with a wary glance. “A little intense for classical, don’t you think?”
“Nah,” he laughed, taking out her earbud. “That’s cool though. Not many people are into that kind of stuff. You are a girl of many sides.”
When We Were Still Human Page 12