by Cameron Jace
“How about I tell you jokes?” the Pillar says. “I can make you laugh.”
“Jokes don’t work,” the Cheshire scolds. “I’ve been telling myself jokes for fourteen years.”
“Laughed your tail off?”
“On the contrary — I’ve never laughed once,” the Cheshire says. “You know why?”
“Depressed being in someone else’s body?”
“No, because I knew those jokes.”
“Maybe the greatest joke you never admitted was yourself.”
“It’s true.” The Cheshire lowers Jack’s head. I can’t believe my eyes. “I lost myself in someone who isn’t me.”
“Jack?”
“Yes. But you have no idea, Pillar. The things I heard in Jack’s mind. The emotions. The sacrifice. It’s addictive.”
“Addictive enough that you gave up on your quest to burn every human being alive?”
“I don’t hate humans anymore.” He chuckles. It sounds as if he’s crying. “That’s why Black Chess gave up on me. They say I betrayed them.”
“Why do you love humans all of a sudden?”
“Jack.”
“You said that before.”
“And Alice.” The Cheshire holds the Pillar’s hand. Eagerly. For the first time, I see Jack’s eyes sparkle like they used to in the past. “If you only know how I — I mean, Jack loves her. It’s mind-boggling.”
“Listen, Chesh.” The Pillar glances at his watch. “Since you love Alice so much now, she could use a favor. Can you do that?”
“Alice?” The Cheshire suddenly realizes I am in the room. The way he stares at me is the optimum of madness: to love the eyes looking at you and hate the soul that occupies them.
23
“Alice!” The Cheshire — Jack — or whoever that is — runs to me and wraps his arms around me.
I stand stiff with a tear on the verge of rolling down my cheek. I don’t know who is who. But I miss Jack so much. This body holding me smells of him. It talks like him. And I might want to kiss him like I wanted to kiss Jack.
“I missed you so much, Alice.” He holds my head between my hands, Jack’s eyes melting me on the inside.
“I missed you too, Jack.” I hug him back.
“Don’t fall for him,” the Pillar says. “This isn’t Jack.”
“But — ”
“Jack died inside the Cheshire a long time ago,” the Pillar says. “The Cheshire has gone mad, overwhelmed by human emotions he can’t understand.”
“You know what this means?” I pull Jack closer to me. “It means Jack’s love for me is so strong. Look what it has done to the devil himself.”
The Pillar waves a hand, unable to persuade me.
“I’ve been looking for you for fourteen years,” Jack tells me.
“I’m sorry I left you behind, Jack.” I run my hand over his face. Oh, those dimples. How I’ve missed them. “I should have saved you from the Cheshire.”
And it’s then when the Pillar’s pout makes sense.
It’s then when I realize the horror I’m holding in my hands. I was only fooling myself. Who I am holding, whether I like it or not, is the Cheshire.
Jack is dead. For good.
I push the Cheshire back and step away.
“But I love you, Alice!” he says.
“Don’t.” I lift a hand in the air, looking away from a beautiful face I’ve always loved — and killed. Maybe I can fix that later in the future. I turn to face the Pillar. “Why did you bring me here? To play games with my mind?”
“Not at all,” the Pillar says. “You might not know it, but I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Because the Cheshire can help us enter Oxford Asylum.”
“How so?”
A smile sweeps the Pillar’s face as he looks at the Cheshire. “Tell me, Jack,” he says. “Would you do anything for the one you love?”
24
THE PRESENT: BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
The woman in the red fur walked into the Queen’s chamber. She had her black glasses on and said nothing.
“It wasn’t hard to find you,” the Queen said.
“The deal was that I’d stay away,” the woman said. Her words were stiff. Practical.
“True.” The Queen nodded. “You did well. Although you shouldn’t have been seen at Oxford University or the Wembley Stadium.”
“I couldn’t help watching the arrival of the Wonderland Monsters,” she said. “The Cheshire’s arrival to this world was epic. The watermelons stuffed with children’s heads, too. Later, I kept to myself and hid, like you instructed me.”
“Does that mean you know who is bringing the monsters back?”
“Not at all,” the woman said. “I was only curious. Other than that, I’m just here for one mission. You know what that is.”
“I know,” the Queen said. “You have what I need from you, then?”
“You mean what Margaret wants?”
“Semantics,” the Queen said. “I took from her what she needed; now she wants it back in exchange for a favor.”
“I have it.” The woman nodded. “Do you want me to hand it to you?”
“You brought it with you?”
“I’m not comfortable with calling it it, but yes, I have it.”
“Good. I will have my guards see you to a guest room with the chubby boy,” the Queen said. “Once I get what I want from Margaret, I will send for you.”
“Of course, My Queen,” the woman said, and turned to face the guiding guards.
“Wait,” the Queen said.
“Yes?” The woman turned around
“You know what you will do when I ask for you, right?” The Queen smirked.
“Yes, I do.” The woman smirked and walked away.
The Queen felt exceptionally euphoric. She jumped in place and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Guards!”
A couple of them hurried into the room.
“Off with your head!” she ordered.
The guards looked perplexed, staring at each other. “Which of our heads do you want to chop off, My Queen? Me or him?”
“Who cares.” She waved a hand and sat on her throne. “I just want to see a head roll before me. Now!”
25
THE FUTURE: OXFORD ASYLUM
I am lying on a patient’s bed, rolled by a young doctor inside the asylum. The doctor is signing my admission papers, telling the nurses I’m a sane person caught outside. Turns out the Queen ordered all sane people into asylums all over the world. Sane people are fed well inside the asylum until their turn comes to attend Westminster Circus, where the mad take revenge on the sane.
Whatever all of this means.
The doctor finishes the papers and starts rolling me inside. The doctor is not really a doctor. He is the Pillar possessing a young doctor’s soul.
The deal the Pillar made was to let the Cheshire help him possess another person’s soul so we could figure out our way into the asylum. I didn’t know it before, but the soul-possessing gift can be passed on. The Cheshire never told that to anyone. He only agreed because he thinks he loves me. And the Pillar, being the Pillar, took immoral advantage of that.
“Don’t move until I find a way to get to that Mock Turtle,” the Pillar says in the doctor’s voice. Poor, handsome doctor, blond hair, well built, under the Pillar’s influence now.
“How are you going to find him?” I ask.
“The lesser-practiced art of asking, dear Alice,” the Pillar says. “It works like a charm when you’re good looking.”
He stops by a couple of nurses. “Sweeties,” I hear him say. “Looking fantastic today.”
“Oh.” One of them blushes — I tilt my head to see her. She is a redhead. “Thank you, doctor. What was your name again?”
Oops. We didn’t ask before the Pillar possessed him.
“Call me doctor.” The Pillar smiles.
“Doctor?” the other one, shorter, with
thick glasses, asks.
“Of course. Dr. Doctor,” the Pillar says. “Instead of James, Jack, or John. Boring, right?”
They giggle. “How can we help you, Dr. Doctor?”
“See how sweet the words drool out of your sugary mouth?” he says.
I close my eyes, roll them behind my eyelids, and try not to laugh.
“You’re so sweet,” the shorter one says.
“Did you ever hear about that patient, Mock Turtle?” the Pillar says.
“Of course,” the bigger nurse says. “Pfff. The revolutionist.”
“Revolutionist?”
“You don’t go out much to the real world, do you?” the shorter one says. “Never heard about the Inklings?”
Things are getting weirder by the minute.
“Excuse my ignorance,” the Pillar says. “But, I hate those sane people already.”
“The Mock Turtle is the leader of the revolution against the Queen,” the bigger one says.
“Long live the Queen,” the shorter one adds.
“Of course, long live the Queen,” the Pillar says. “Although she’s too short to live that long,” he says under his breath.
I wonder about the Inklings in the future. Who is leading them in the future? And why am I in a compound, living a luxurious life away from them? Part of a plan?
“Do you know where I can find him, sweeties?” the Pillar says.
“He is in section six,” the shorter one says.
“And where is that?”
“The one known as the Door to Wonderland in Christ Church. But you must have heard of it.”
“Of course I have.” The Pillar fluff-talks them for a few seconds and then rolls my bed ahead.
“You really know where this Door to Wonderland is?” I say, tilting my head back to look at him.
“I do. It’s a door near the library that Lewis Carroll used to stare at for hours while writing the book,” the Pillar says. “It’s said that the dean of the university at the time locked it because it was a real door to Wonderland. And…”
“And what?”
“It’s supposed to be your favorite place for playing as a child.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” the Pillar says. “In fact, it makes sense for this Mock Turtle to wait for you there. If you really keep the keys with him, then the name of the place is like a secret code between you and him. Your favorite childhood place. Makes sense.”
“Do you think me living in the compound is a camouflage, a trick to hide my true identity in the future, and the Mock Turtle being the leader of the revolution is only to delude the Queen?”
“We’re about to know in a second.” The Pillar stops.
I get out of bed and stare at the door he is pointing at. It leads to a garden. A vast one that is the same design as the one in my house at the compound. It looks like another part of Wonderland.
“I’m very curious about this Mock Turtle now,” I say. “Who could it be?”
“The last person that would ever cross your mind,” the Pillar says, pointing at him standing in the middle of the garden.
26
THE PRESENT: MARGARET KENT’S OFFICE
The phone rang, and Margaret picked it up. “Who is it?”
“The Cheshire.”
“What do you want?” she said. “Aren’t you supposed to guard the Inklings until Alice awakes?”
“Something came up.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m getting signals from Jack’s mind.”
“Signals?”
“I can read his mind.”
“You don’t say.”
“I’m seeing memories.”
“I bet they’re all playing cards and None Fu games.”
“No.” The Cheshire hesitated. Margaret sensed he wasn’t quite himself. Something was happening to him. “They’re mostly about Alice.”
Margaret shrugged. She stood up, locked her door, and went back to her desk. “Anything useful?”
“A lot of lovey-dovey memories,” he said. “I’m still digging.”
“Anything about her being the Real Alice?” she asked eagerly. “Come on, there must a lead in her past to prove it’s her.”
“You sound too eager to know.”
“Yes, Cheshire, I want to know.” She gritted her teeth. “You know what it means if it’s hers.”
“Not really sure,” he lamented. “I’m not that involved in this Wonderland War.”
“You don’t understand,” Margaret said. “All of the Real Alice’s secrets lay in the few years after the circus. That’s where it all happened. You have to rummage through that wreckage in Jack’s mind. Harder.”
The Cheshire kept to himself for a while. Margaret couldn’t dismiss the possibility that the infamous cat was warming up to Jack and Alice, even if just a little.
“Cheshire,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” He was surely lying. “There is this memory about why Jack came back after she killed him.”
“And?”
“I can’t put my finger on it,” the Cheshire said. “But he came back to tell her something so important to him.”
“Tell her who she really is, maybe?” Margaret leaned back in her chair, a smile curving her lips. “That’s fantastic.”
“It’s driving me crazy.”
“You are crazy.”
“You think so?”
“‘We’re all mad here.’ Your words, not mine.”
“Yeah. I forgot.”
“It’s okay. Just know that things are starting to get really exciting.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to. Just figure out why Jack came back, and if she is the Real Alice.” Margaret hung up, then closed her eyes.
The few past weeks, she had resisted the idea that the Pillar had found the Real Alice. It was a scary thought to Wonderlanders. But there hadn’t been enough evidence to support it.
Since Margaret needed all she could bargain with to get her thing back from the Queen, it’d be great if she came across proof that the girl in the asylum was the Real Alice. That would be perfect timing.
27
THE FUTURE: THE DOOR TO WONDERLAND, OXFORD ASYLUM FOR THE CRIMINALLY SANE
Like the Pillar said, the Mock Turtle isn’t who I expected him to be. All the scenarios I imagined were out of context. Surprises keep on coming.
“Is that really him?” I ask the Pillar, pointing at the so-called Mock Turtle.
“Dr. Tom Truckle himself.” The Pillar is as confused as I am.
“He is the revolution leader?” I scratch my head as if I am in a big cartoon show called life. “And how come he is the Mock Turtle?”
“He likes mock turtle soup a lot,” the Pillar remarks. “We should’ve noticed.”
I think about it for a moment. The puzzle starts to unfold in my mind. “And there is something else that should have given him away.”
“What’s that?” the Pillar asks.
“Tom Truckle is an anagram for Mock Turtle.”
The Pillar’s eyes glimmer. “Clever. But the question is: did he know he was the Mock Turtle back then when we were in the asylum?”
“And why did I leave the secret to the keys’ whereabouts with this old, annoying man?”
“Let’s see.” We walk toward Truckle. “Honestly, he doesn’t look as tense as in the past. Little too old for leading a revolution, though.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Tom Truckle says, leaning against a tree in the garden. From what it looks like, this isn’t just a garden. It’s a prison, walled with enormous trees and stinging bushes. There is nowhere to escape. “My wardens will arrive soon. They’ll know who you are.”
“Do you know who I am?” the Pillar says.
“Why should I care?” Tom says. “I was talking to Alice.”
I realize Tom doesn’t know I’m from the past, so I need to play along while I get answers at the same time. “It�
��s okay, Tom,” I tell him. “Where are the keys?”
Tom fidgets, pulls out a few pills, swallows them dry. He looks at me. “I can’t talk here,” he whispers. “You have to get me out of here. How did you even get in?” He grabs me by the shoulders. “And why have you left the compound?”
“Hey,” the Pillar says. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s start with getting you out of here. But first, we need to make sure the keys aren’t here in the asylum.”
“Who are you?” Tom says.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “Stick with me. Are the keys inside the asylum?”
“No,” Tom says.
“Then my friend is right. Let’s get you out of here first.”
“Tell me how, and I’m all yours,” Tom says. He cranes his head over my shoulder, his mouth agape. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?” I say.
The Pillar taps me on the shoulder, looking in the same direction behind me. There is a TV hung above the door. It shows the Great Republic of Wonderland news. I’ve been declared a fugitive. Public enemy number one. The Queen has ordered my head chopped off for breaking the treaty and leaving the compound.
“The deal was that strict?” I ask the Pillar.
“Like I said, rich people stay in their compound for immunity, but they’re not allowed to ever leave it.”
“Why would I agree to such terms?”
The Pillar shrugs. I turn to Tom, and he gives me a look that worries me. He knows something I don’t know. “Show me out first,” he demands.
Two wardens arrive at the door, one of them whistling a warning. Suddenly the place is head over heels.
“Alice,” the Pillar says. “I have a great idea how to get out of here.”
“Please tell me.”
The Pillar raises an eyebrow and says, “Run!”
28
When the Pillar says run, you realize you’re in great danger. This is what Tom Truckle does. Even the Pillar himself disappears in the flash of an eye, probably behind the bushes, because this place is actually a small prison of trees and vicious flowers.