by Cameron Jace
“I’m aware of that,” the Pillar said without the slightest hint of sympathy. She couldn’t stand him being so cruel — or was he just too tough? “This still doesn’t justify why you hate me so much right now. What is it, really?”
Fabiola hesitated then said, “Because I love her. The girl is the energy of light. Smart, ambitious, and has a heart of heroes.” She stamped one foot on the ground. “I bloody love her. And I swear to God, I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”
Fabiola wiped away her tears and prepared to go back inside. She hated it when her anger surfaced like that. She had sworn not to give in to the woman she was in the past. Back in Wonderland, when she wasn’t a nun or a bartender, but the bravest of warriors.
“Fabiola,” the Pillar called after her. “When it’s over, I’ll be in Tom Quad at Oxford University.”
“So what?”
“I think you’ll want to see me once Alice returns to the past. Something horrible is going to happen then. We’ll have to talk about it.”
“You arrogant prick,” she said. “Why are you always sure of yourself? I don’t want to see you ever again.”
“If I had a mushroom for every time I heard you say that.” The Pillar rolled his cane in the air and walked away. “I’ll be waiting in Tom Quad. Trust me, you’ll come.”
44
THE PRESENT: INSIDE THE INKLINGS, OXFORD
I’m back in the present life. My name is Alice, and I hardly know who I really am. Names are just the layer on top. You peel it off, and there is the real you beneath. Have you ever seen the real you? Have you ever tried to?
Now that I’m back from the future, Fabiola returns to the Inklings, helping me drink a lot of water, cleaning off all the blood from my nose. She helps me sit and hands me a cup of milk and some food. We’re alone in the back room, waiting for Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock to return. Although I want to smash their heads against the wall, there is nothing I can do to them. They’re practically immortal. I hate time so much right now.
“What about the March Hare?” I say.
“He’s still unconscious, but not dead,” Fabiola says. “The creepy couple forcefully leak some of their magic tea into his mouth every now and then, so he stays alive.”
“But that’s not the real antidote that will bring him back to life. Right?”
“It isn’t.” She wipes off my sweat. “And we don’t know how to get it. Listen, Alice, you don’t have to do this.”
“Go back in time?” I say. “Of course I have to.”
“Maybe the March Hare’s time has come in this life. Maybe it’s his time to die.”
I can’t believe she said that. I can’t forget the image of the Columbian children gathered around his bed, crying their eyes out. But Fabiola isn’t herself anymore. She is slowly morphing into whoever she was in Wonderland. I am beginning to think she was borderline heartless in Wonderland. A good warrior, but sometimes heartless.
“It’s not just about the March Hare,” I tell her.
“Don’t tell me it’s about the keys. We can find them one by one in this world.”
“Not just the keys. I’m going to die if I don’t find my Wonder, remember?”
“And we don’t have any idea what it is.” Fabiola scowls.
“That’s why we need to talk to Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock again. They want me to go back to get the keys. But I’m not doing it until they tell me what my Wonder is.” I don’t tell Fabiola that I promised Jack I’d save his life in the past. I don’t think she’d like that. All in all, there seems to be all kinds of reasons for me to go back in time.
Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock open the door and enter the room. They smile and sit on their chairs opposite each other as if nothing bad ever happened. Time will always smile at you, even when it’s ripping you of the days and nights of your life.
“She is a strong girl,” Mr. Tick tells his wife, pointing at me. “I think she is up to the job.”
“She may also be the Real Alice,” Mrs. Tock says.
“I’m the Real Alice,” I interrupt. “And stop talking to each other as if we’re not in the room.”
“Badass, too,” Mr. Tick whispers to his wife. “I like her.”
“But she isn’t the Real Alice.” Mrs. Tock rubs her chin. “We can’t be really sure until she finds the keys in the past.”
“Stop it.” I am about to get up and scream at them. Fabiola holds me back. “Let’s get into what matters,” I say. “What the hell is my Wonder?”
“She’s practical, too,” Mr. Tick says to his wife.
“She probably got that from the Pillar,” Mrs. Tock says. “But really, Mr. Tick, we should tell her about her Wonder.”
“Agreed, Mrs. Tock.” He turns back to me. “Your Wonder, Alice — everyone’s Wonder, in fact — is the one thing you do in your life that you’re most proud of. The one thing that when asked on your deathbed, ‘What did you really bring to this life?’ you’d tell us about.”
45
“And how am I supposed to find that?”
“That’s up to you,” Mrs. Tock says. “While you’re back in time, find the thing that if you do, it will be so important, and so good, that life will grant you an extension.”
“Pretty shoddy, coming from two lunatics like you,” Fabiola comments.
“Did she just call us shoddy, Mrs. Tock?” Mr. Tick says.
“I think she did. Although you always arrive on time, Mr. Tick.”
“Remind me to kick their asses when I get back from the past, Ms. Fabiola,” I say.
“Don’t forget to call me, because I will kick them with you, Ms. Alice,” Fabiola says, playing along.
“Badass. Practical. And sarcastic,” Mr. Tick says. “I really want you to be the Real Alice.”
“I am her.” I am not sure if I am stubborn, fooling myself, but I have this feeling inside me. I’m the Real Alice. “So let’s start. How do I go back in time?”
“First of all, take this.” Mrs. Tock hands me a pink pill.
“What’s that? Another Lullaby pill?”
“It’s an address,” Mr. Tick says. “The Wonderlastic Guide of Time Travels offers a solution for taking items back in time with you. And we need to give you an address. This pill will help you remember the address in the past.”
I take it. “What address?”
“It’s my address in the past,” Mrs. Tock says. “You will need it in case something goes wrong.”
“Wrong like what?”
“Sometimes, going back in time sends you to a slightly wrong moment,” Mr. Tick explains. “A day or two past the desired date. If that happens, you will need to find Mrs. Tock to help you out.”
“And she will believe me?”
“Of course she will. Who else will know about her address?” Mr. Tick says.
“I understand.” I swallow the pill. “Now what?”
“Now, my dear Alice,” — Mr. Tick stands up, combing his hairies — “we need to agree on the date you need to go back to.”
This is the moment I have been waiting for. I need to go back a day or two before the bus accident, so I can save Jack and maybe know why I killed anyone. “A day before the bus accident.”
“You think this is the time you’d have known the whereabouts of the keys?” Mrs. Tock asks skeptically.
“I can’t think of a better day,” I explain. “It’s supposed to be the last time I remembered who I really was. Right after the accident, I was caught and sent to the asylum. I couldn’t remember what happened. So the day before the bus, I must have had an accurate memory of where I hid the keys.”
“What do you think, Mrs. Tock?” Mr. Tick says.
“It’s her life, Mr. Tick. She wouldn’t risk it for nothing.”
As the couple prepare for my time travel, Fabiola asks to have a word with me outside.
“I’m going to make it brief,” she says. “I just want to tell you that it’s okay if you’re not the Real Alice. You’ve done brave things so far. It
doesn’t really matter what your name is. It matters who you are.”
Fabiola seems too emotional. I think she is worried she will never see me again. She is worried that the Pillar picked up a mad girl from an asylum, fooled her into being a hero, and got great results. Except that this poor girl is now about to die.
I know that because I am thinking all kinds of thoughts. I hug Fabiola and tell her the one thing I believe is true: “Don’t worry, Fabiola. I don’t know if I’ll make it back. But I know I’m the Real Alice.”
It puzzles me that suddenly Fabiola looks like she doesn’t believe I’m the Real Alice.
46
THE PRESENT: BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
The Queen of Hearts was enjoying her new rocking chair, made of bamboo, and specially delivered to her from the African deserts by one of her mad alliances on the continent. A mad ruler who killed his people for disrespecting the religion he made up. The Queen loved this kind of madness.
But the rocking chair also reminded her of time. Rocking back and forth in a steady beat was like the ticks and tocks of a clock.
“How is my flamingo doing?” she asked her guards.
“Very well,” one of the guards answered. “Dr. Tom Truckle is taking the bait.”
“I knew my plan would work,” she said. “How about Alice?”
“The Duchess just called in,” the guard answered. “She said the plan is going well. Alice went to the future, was about to die, and now she’s being forced to go back in time to find the keys and, if possible, her Wonder.”
“Alice has no Wonder in the past,” the Queen said. “She has no idea what she is getting herself into. Once she finds the keys, she will find no solace but the address they’ve given her. Mrs. Tock’s address. That’s when she will be forced to give her the keys, which Mrs. Tock will deliver to Margaret.”
“Indeed, My Queen,” the guard said. “If you don’t mind, the Duchess wanted me to remind you about her thing. The thing you promised to give back.”
“Understood.” The Queen left her chair, walking toward her phone. “I will take care of this later. Now you’re dismissed. Move, or I’ll chop off some heads.”
She waited until she was all alone in her chamber, and then dialed a forty-two-digit number on her phone.
A few breaths later, someone picked up.
“Yes?” the hollow voice said on the other side.
“All is good,” the Queen said. “Alice is on her way to the past.”
“And?”
“This is going to be epic,” the Queen said. “It’s the moment we’ve been waiting for. The most important moment in Wonderlanders’ lives since the Circus.”
“Only if she is the Real Alice,” the voice said.
“Only if she is,” the Queen said. “And it’s so exciting.”
47
BACK IN TIME
A long darkness veils over my soul before I can even open my eyes. In my heart, I already know I’m back in time. It’s as if I can smell it. I wonder why a gut feeling doesn’t want me to open my eyes.
I’m lying on my back, on a thin mattress, probably directly on the floor. The place around me stinks. The rotten smell is familiar. Something about this past is terribly wrong.
Where am I?
I imagined myself waking up in a bed in my foster family’s house, still living a normal life, waiting for a phone call from Jack, maybe.
But this isn’t it. I need to open my eyes now.
But before I do, there is a knock on my door.
“Open za door!”
This can’t be. It’s Waltraud Wagner.
“Time to visit yor doctor.”
What? When?
My eyes fling open. I’m back in my cell in Radcliffe Asylum. The same cell I’ve been in for two years. The Tiger Lily in the pot bends over in the corner, the walls are stained with green grease, and the steel door shakes to Waltraud’s rapping.
I hear the rattling of keys. She is about to open the door.
“Waltraud?” I sit up.
The vicious warden stands before me, rapping her baton on her fatty hands. She tilts her head and grimaces at me. It’s as if she is surprised to see me, too.
“What am I doing here?”
“You’re on vacation, honey.” She cracks a laugh.
“A vacation?”
“From your mind.” She loops the baton next to her ears then laughs some more. “Soon enough, you’ll learn the rules. I advise you to make up your mind now.”
“Make up my mind about what?”
“Do you want to be electrified in the Mush Room, or would you prefer the Lullaby pill?”
I am speechless. Something is wrong. Not just with the timing. All of this doesn’t add up.
“And before you attempt an escape,” Waltraud says, “always know you’re underground. It’s really hard to escape.”
“Waltraud!” I say. “What’s going on?”
“This is the second time you’ve called me by my name.” Waltraud stands back. “How do you know my name?”
“What do you mean, how? You’ve been torturing me in the Mush Room for the past two years.”
“Oh, Lord.” She cups a hand on her mouth. “You’re like they said. A loon multiplied by infinity.” She lowers her head and taps her baton on my shoulder. “I’ve never seen you before, little girl. This is your first day in the asylum.”
48
THE PAST: RADCLIFFE ASYLUM, OXFORD
Waltraud pulls me by my hair. She drags me outside into the hallway I’ve seen a thousand times before.
Same old story. Same old torture. And same old madness.
Only it’s a different time. This is what Mrs. Tock warned me of. I’ve returned to a day after the accident.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask her, unable to figure out what to do next. I’m in a vicious loop. In the past, but at a time when my memories are no different from the present. I can’t possibly know where the keys are. Nor do I know why I killed everyone on the bus.
Back to square one. Welcome to hell all over again. My first day in the asylum. Am I going to relive the two worst years of my life?
“The doctor needs to see you,” Waltraud says. “He has to assess the fresh loons and advise the proper treatment.”
“Dr. Tom Truckle, you mean?”
Now she pulls me harder, a little distressed. “Who are you, girl? You know too much about this asylum. You’ve been here before?”
“Yes.”
“I never saw you. When?”
“I come from the future.”
Waltraud glares at me then bursts out laughing. “Hilarious. I’m going to have so much fun with you.”
“You have to believe me,” I say. “I know about you. About Ogier.”
“Ogier?”
“The other warden.”
“I asked for another warden to help me, but they haven’t sent one yet.”
“See? I know things. His name is going to be Thomas Ogier. Bald. Tall. And Dumb.”
“What else do you know?” Waltraud stops and pushes me against the wall.
“I know about Tom Truckle’s pills. His terrible family. About the VIP ward upstairs. I know about the Mushroomers. Isn’t that what you like to call the mad in here?” I take a breath. Waltraud’s eyes scan me feverishly. “I’m not mad. I was here before. You have to let me go.”
“That’s what it’s about, then,” Waltraud says. “You figured out a few things about this place, maybe one of the Mushroomers told you, so I’d believe your silly time-travel story and let you go?”
“No, you don’t understand. I need to leave. I need to find my Wonder.”
“I will wonder you to death in the Mush Room, darling.”
“Please.”
“Not in a million years.” She drags me across the floor again. “I think it’s the pill that did this to you.”
“The pill?”
“I was against giving you the pill this morning,” Waltraud mumbles. “I t
old them it’s too soon. They didn’t believe me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Its effect will wither away within an hour,” Waltraud says. “Until then, I’ll have my fun with you.”
Think, Alice. Think.
I can’t let this keep going. I need to escape the asylum now. I need to find Mrs. Tock so that we can correct the path. This isn’t right. If Waltraud puts me back into my cell, I won’t be able to get out before twenty-four hours. I will die the worst death, in a time that isn’t mine, in a cell I left some time ago.
I take a deep breath and kick Waltraud in her most delicate place.
She drops down on her knees, her face reddening with pain. Her cheeks turn into gum bubbles that are about to explode. I wriggle my hair out of her hands, but she grips a handful as I run away.
Panting and writhing, I remind myself of the whereabouts of the main door. All I have to do is run. Kick some guards — although I have no None Fu in me now — and then get upstairs and out. I can’t stay here.
The first guard attacks me, but I slash my arm at his weapon, throwing him off balance. I pick up the gun and fire at him.
I didn’t need to do that. What’s going on with me?
The Mushroomers go wild, rapping at their steel bars in their cells. “Alice. Mad Alice!”
The next guard stands before me, hesitant to shoot back. The fear in his eyes is perplexing. Was he so scared of me when I first arrived?
“Put your gun down, or I’ll shoot,” I say.
Surprisingly, he cooperates. “Please don’t kill me,” he says. “I’ll open the door leading upstairs for you.”
This is too easy. What’s the catch?