by Cameron Jace
“She will die, Carroll,” Pillar said in Carroll’s ear. “This future is a mistake. What’s done is done. I can go back and save her. She doesn’t have to take the same route again. She just messed up.”
The corpse’s hand stiffened even more.
“It’s not her fault, Carroll,” the Pillar pleaded. “Let me help her. She saved your life for God’s sake. This is only a possible future. You of all people know this. We can always change the future.” The Pillar was fighting a tear, threatening to break his lifetime record of never crying, not once.
He gently put his hands on Carroll’s chest. “For the sake of the good memories, Carroll,” the Pillar said. “Don’t let what happened after the circus do this to you. She needs to live, find the keys, and save the world. For the sake of your memories with her in the garden in Christ Church.”
Carroll’s stiffened hands loosened a bit at the Pillar’s last words.
“Remember those days, her playing in the garden, behind the door to Wonderland? Remember her fluttering hair, the sparkling eyes of a child who loved rabbits and turtles? The girl who hated books without pictures and lived in the minds of every child in the world until this day?”
Carroll’s hands shifted, giving way for the Pillar to reach for the pills. They were still intact inside a plastic bag in his chest pocket. Three pills. Probably preserved in the same manner Carroll’s corpse was.
The Pillar took the pills and tucked them in his back pocket. He grabbed for the shovel and said, “Now it’s time to bury you again, old man.” He sighed. “Not that burying your corpse lessens your presence in the world. Somehow you’re immortal.”
A few minutes later, the job was done. The Pillar rolled his sleeves back down and put on his suit. He walked out toward the motorcycle, counting on the trick of time to get back to Alice as soon as he could.
On his way, he stumbled across a set of tombstones outside the church. He was sure they hadn’t been here in the past and wondered who was buried next to Carroll. Who died in the future and deserved this burial place?
The Pillar stepped up and read the name on the tombstone. It didn’t make sense, but it hurt reading that name. Someone was going to die in the future, sooner than anyone would have expected.
And boy, what a loss that would be.
39
THE FUTURE: OXFORD STREETS
Every now and then, I manage to open my eyes for a few seconds. Dying is a horrible thing. I feel I am being stripped of everything I have, one second after the other. My skin, my vision, my hearing, my breath, and my soul. All is withering away.
The fire truck seems to have been flipped on its side because I see things at a ninety-degree angle. Tom is in an awkward position, firing the water hose in all directions. But it doesn’t look like a lasting plan.
I see the poor dog, now awake, swimming in a pool of puddles, trying to escape the Reds’ bullets. Bandersnatch bullets. If I could just stand up to save the poor thing from the human madness…
But I can’t. My eyelids droop on me again. It’s so hard to flip them open again. It’s like pushing open a gate of steel.
“No!” I hear Tom scream.
My vision is almost gone.
The only thought that comes to me is: What kind of a lame hero am I?
No wonder I’m not leading the revolution in the future. I am assuming I wasn’t up to the mission and failed somehow. That’s why I am hiding beyond the walls of a so-called Wonderland compound. What kind of future scenario is that?
And my children? How can I leave them like this? I am really hoping Tom is right, that there is another version of me, a real responsible mother, who will take care of Tiger and Lily in this life.
As for me, it looks like my time has come. It wasn’t such a bad ride, I tell myself. I saved a few lives, didn’t I? Of course, I killed those on the bus earlier, but like the tattoo on my arm rants: I can’t go back to yesterday because… blah blah blah.
A shot resonates in my head. A scream follows. Adrenalin pumps into my thin veins, a little push that helps me open my eyes again.
“I’m here, Alice,” a voice tells me. It’s the Pillar. “I’ve got the pills.”
“Really?” I cough blood.
“I just need to straighten you up and shelter you somewhere safe, or a stray bullet could end us both.” He begins to pull me into a shaded area. I can’t make out what is what. The world is upside down, skewed, and ridiculous.
“That’s it.” He lays me back against the truck’s front, I believe. “Can you swallow it?” He tucks the pill into my mouth.
I shake my head, realizing my jaw has tightened. I can hardly give the pill a kick with my tongue.
“Don’t worry,” the Pillar says, pulling something nearby. “Thankfully, we’re in a fire truck.”
I don’t understand what this means. The pill is melting on my tongue, but I can’t swallow it. What’s worse than that?
“Here.” He pulls the water hose and drowns my face with water. “That’s why I’m thankful.”
The water splashes on my face, and the pill slides inside me. I will be forever grateful to the Pillar. Maybe I can return to the past and fix this messed-up future.
But I am not feeling better.
“Alice?” The Pillar begins to shake me violently.
I can’t even feel his hands now. I am withering away. The pills aren’t the answer to saving my life.
40
THE PRESENT: THE INKLINGS, OXFORD
“So, the pills won’t work?” Mr. Tick put his teacup aside and wiped his thin lips with a napkin.
“I made sure they’re taken,” Mrs. Tock explained.
“Taken?”
“I’ve had someone pull them out of Carroll’s pockets,” she said. “The ones the Pillar will find, if he so takes that route to save her, are water pills. Useless, just like diet pills.”
“Pretty cruel.” Mr. Tick tucked a napkin into the collar of his vest, getting ready for his six o’clock brownie. “And fabulous, I must admit. I can’t tell you how much you have entertained me today.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Tick.”
“So, the girl dies now?”
“You know we don’t want that to happen.” Mrs. Tock snickered, reaching for a piece of Mr. Tick’s brownie. He slapped her hand away. “Alice needs to live. We’re just preparing her for the big showdown, so we can get the keys.”
“Poor girl.” He gorged on his brownie. “She has no idea what’s going on.”
“It’s the only way to get the keys.”
“And to know if she’s really the Real Alice,” Mr. Tick remarked.
“That too, of course,” she said. “According to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to Wonderlastic Time Travels, she will die in the future if she is not the Real Alice.”
“And if she survives?”
“There is a possibility she might be Alice.”
“That’s rather contradictory. If she dies, she isn’t Alice, but if she lives, she may be Alice?”
“Wonderland logic. Can’t argue with that,” she said. “It’s as confusing as the concept of time.”
“Whatever.” He waved a hand after downing the last piece of the brownie. “I’m curious to see how it plays out.”
“Me too, Mr. Tick.”
“But I’m starting to get bored again,” Mr. Tick said. “Not that I haven’t been entertained by this piece of time travel. But I feel there isn’t much pain involved. I need to see tragedies. People in dire pain and agony.”
“I understand. Seeing people in agony makes you tick, Mr. Tick.” She chuckled. “I have an idea. Why not stop time from freezing inside the Inklings?”
“Why would I do that?”
“You’d wake up Fabiola.” Mrs. Tock snickered and shrugged. “This way, you can see her suffer when she sees Alice spasming and coughing blood.”
“What a brilliant idea, Mrs. Tock,” Mr. Tick said, and snapped his fingers to unfreeze the White Queen.
41
THE FU
TURE: OXFORD STREETS
“Alice!” I still hear the Pillar screaming.
I’m sinking into my own rabbit hole toward the other side of the spectrum of life.
“Is she going to die?” I think that’s Tom shouting, but I’m not sure.
Then someone arrives — I think.
“What are you doing here?” the Pillar roars at the guest.
“I can save her.” I think I know the voice but can’t focus hard enough to remember.
“Another trick of yours,” Tom says. “Go away.”
“I always have a few tricks in my sleeves,” that someone says. “I’d even admit I switched the pills on Carroll’s corpse.”
“What corpse?” Tom asks.
What are they talking about? Who is this stranger?
“That’s why she is dying.” The Pillar sounds angry. “I’m going to kill you.”
“No need to,” the stranger says. “I have her cure. The real pills.”
Really? Am I going to live?
“And what do you ask in return?” the Pillar says.
“I’ve always liked your practical methods, Pillar,” the stranger says. “I’m going to give her the pills if she promises me a favor.”
“Whatever it takes, Cheshire,” the Pillar says. “Just give them to me.”
“Don’t call me Cheshire, please,” the Cheshire says in Jack’s voice. “I’m neither the Cheshire nor Jack now. I’m both. Not as naive and hapless in love as Jack, nor do I hate humans like the Cheshire.”
“And I’ve seen this sentimental rubbish of a movie before. Spare me the bullshit and hand me the goddamn pills,” the Pillar says.
“She has to listen to what I want first,” the Cheshire, or Jack, demands. “I know you think I’m still working for Black Chess because I fooled Tom and took the keys from him, but you’re wrong.”
“Then what’s right? Enlighten me.” The Pillar is impatient.
“I stole the keys so I can have my bargain with Alice.”
“Bargain?”
“Yes, bargain. The keys and her life in exchange for Jack’s life.”
“Jack is dead,” Tom interjects. “Even long before you possessed his body.”
“That’s what Alice has to fix for me if I give her the pills,” the Cheshire says. “She has to time-travel to the past and let Jack live.”
I reach out a feeble hand, not seeing where it’s pointing.
“What’s wrong, Alice?” the Pillar asks.
I try my best to keep my hand steady until the Cheshire gets the message and reaches back for me. Not the Cheshire, really. But Jack. I squeeze his hand. I understand what’s going on. This Cheshire/Jack mix produced a different person who cherishes his life and blames me for killing him. Even fourteen years later, this new person demands to live. If time travel works for finding keys, then it should work for saving a life.
All Jack is asking me is not to kill him on the bus. He wants me to go back in time and stop the accident. I want it, too. I’ve always felt guilty for killing Jack. It’s time to correct the past.
Jack’s hand warms up. I think he feels me somehow. Slowly, I feel another pill tucked in my mouth. It’s the right pill; I know it. It tastes like those I took back in the asylum.
“Promise me you’ll save my life, Alice,” Jack demands.
“I promise, Jack,” I say. “I’m really sorry I killed you.”
42
Life seeps back through the pores of my skin, the veins in my head, and the blood in my heart. Funny how we’re not grateful for breathing until the time comes when it’s our last breath.
The Pillar helps me straighten up again, brushing my hair back. “Are you all right?”
“All right? I’m not sure.” I chuckle. “But I’ll live.”
The dog comes and licks my face, welcoming me back to life — or should I say the future?
Tom just stands there, saying nothing. He has that look, which I can’t understand. He exchanges brief mutters with the Pillar then turns back to me. It’s almost as if he’s not so happy I am alive.
But I don’t have the capacity to interpret what’s behind all of this.
Jack stands with a straight face piercing through me. This isn’t Jack. This isn’t the Cheshire. It’s someone in between. Who’d have thought? The most lovable boy possessed by the most vicious cat.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“Don’t thank me,” he says. “Just save me. Do all you can to make Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock help you go back in time and save me — save the bus, Alice.”
“I don’t even remember why I did it.” I want the Jack inside the Cheshire to warm up to me, but he doesn’t.
“No excuses,” he says. “I don’t care if you don’t remember. I care if you save me instead of me ending up sacrificing myself for you and later getting possessed by this vicious cat in me.”
I realize that if I can go back in time and save the bus, Jack will never get possessed by the Cheshire for fourteen years. It makes me want to do it more. But I still have a question. “Since fourteen years have passed, Jack, I only want to know why you came back for me. You said you wanted to tell me something, warn me about something—or someone. I believe I have the right to know before I go back in time.”
Jack doesn’t answer me. He exchanges another look with Tom and the Pillar and then turns and walks away.
I reach for him, but I’m still a bit tired. I don’t even have time to cry. The Reds arrive and surround me, Tom, and the Pillar.
A pressure-filled moment passes, all of us staring at each other. I’m surprised the Reds don’t attack us.
“You’re really hard to catch, Mrs. Wonder,” a Red leader says to me. “We weren’t going to kill you under any circumstances. We just know you don’t belong here.”
“What do you mean?”
“No more games, please,” the Red says. “We know you’re from the past. You and Mr. Pillar.”
“How do you — ”
“It doesn’t matter how we know,” the Red says. “We just want you to leave our world and go back where you came from. That’s Mr. Jay’s orders.”
“Mr. Jay?”
“You don’t have to know about him. Not at the moment. Somewhere in the past, you’ll meet him, and you’ll understand a lot of things. Now, would you mind?”
“I will leave.” I nod, eyeing the Pillar. He nods at the dog. “What about him?” I say.
“After you’ve taken the pill, all you have to do to leave is kiss the dog on the mouth, and he’ll be all right,” the Pillar explains, shaking his shoulders.
“That’s silly,” I say.
“Blame it on the Hitchhiker’s Guide to Wonderlastic Time Travels.”
43
THE PRESENT: OUTSIDE THE INKLINGS, OXFORD
Fabiola stood outside her bar, smoking a cigarette. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the Pillar.
The eccentric professor arrived with his cane and a pout on his face. “Is she alive?”
“She is.” Fabiola killed the cigarette on the ground. “Those two lunatics, Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock, were just messing with her mind. Yours, too.”
“Why would they do that?” the Pillar asked. “Entertaining themselves?”
“Worse. It’s a trick. A master plan by whoever hired them.”
“I’m not doubting that at all. They fooled me into listening to Margaret’s conversation and made me think I managed to time-travel through the Tom Tower when it was the doing of the Tick and Tock couple. The question is why.”
“Because according to some book concerning the rules of Wonderland time travel, whoever cheats death in the future is vulnerable to die within the next twenty-four hours as a consequence.”
“So, getting the keys from the future was only a game?”
“I can’t believe we fell for their trick,” Fabiola said. “The keys can only be found in the past where Alice hid them. Now Alice is obliged to travel to the past to get the keys and save her life. That�
��s what it’s all about.”
“How can she save her life in the past?”
“By finding something called the Wonder.”
The Pillar shrugged. Fabiola realized he knew what it was. “What’s the Wonder?”
“Something she shouldn’t find,” he said stiffly.
“What does that mean?” She was about to lash out at him again. Deep inside, she didn’t want to have this conversation with him. But she had to, so she could save Alice’s life, if possible.
“It’s a paradox. Two things that contradict each other. She won’t live if she doesn’t find her Wonder, and horrible things will happen to her if she does.”
“Don’t do this to me, Pillar. Don’t play those games with me.”
“Let’s not fight, Fabiola. Not now.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?”
“We have no choice,” the Pillar said. “Alice has to go back to fit into whatever plan they cooked up for her. She needs to get the keys and find her Wonder. The rest of the consequences are going to shatter us all. But they’re undeniable now. I’m such a fool. I should’ve read between the lines.”
“You messed up, Carter,” Fabiola said. Only she called him by his first name. Only she knew him well enough to do that. “Why don’t you just leave us be?”
“It’s you who called for me, Fabiola. Remember?”
“I hate you so much,” she said, gripping the door.
“Nothing new with that,” the Pillar said. “You always did. In return, I’ve always loved you.”
“Don’t start!” She loosened her grip and waved her other hand at him. “Just don’t. You don’t even know why I hate you now? It doesn’t have anything to do with the past. This is about now.”
“Why do you hate me now, Fabiola?” The Pillar sighed.
“Because this girl inside apparently isn’t Alice,” Fabiola said. “I’ve forced myself to pretend she was, over and over again. I tried to make it easy on her and not tell her the truth. And now, the poor girl is risking her life, and for what? If she dies within twenty-four hours, it’s going to be your fault.”