by Cameron Jace
A mushroom.
Present: The River, London
“Guns!” a Mushroomer wheezes.
We are ducking and crouching low to avoid the shower of bullets from the shore’s side. One of the sides is too distant for bullets to reach us, so we all scoop over toward it.
“Get down.” I hiss at the shouting Mushroomer, standing tall and pointing upward.
“Don’t stand up,” Constance says.
I turn and look at her, “I am confused. Sometimes you want to save everyone. And sometimes you are cruel.”
“It’s tactics, Alice,” Constance says. “This could be a trick, or a weak spot. You stand up and help the Mushroomer and someone shoots you.”
I nod. “Listen, here is what’s going to happen,” I tell her. “I am going to swim over to other side of the shores, the one less populated and dark. I will find help — or guns.”
“Then?”
“Then I will come back for you and the Mushroomers. I just need you to keep everyone down on the boat’s floors.”
Constance sighs.
“What’s wrong?”
“I am afraid you won’t come for us, Alice.”
“Don’t worry. I am not going to get killed.”
“It’s not that. I think you have a bigger mission to do, and saving us will seem trivial then. I mean, look at us, none of us is as important as you and the March now.”
“Do you mean I should take the March with me?”
“I don’t know what I mean,” she lowers her gaze. “Honestly, I am so psyched up and powerful when you’re around. I am not that strong. I just know you got my back.”
“Don’t say that,” I hold her face in my hands. “In fact, if I don’t come back, consider yourself the Real Alice.”
She laughs, bitterly.
“What now?”
“You’re the Real Alice, whether you like it or know it or not. You are going to save the most precious thing.”
“Stop it,” I pull my hands off. “What is this precious thing everyone talks about?”
“I have no idea. But I heard everyone talk about it. The Pillar. The Cheshire. And even Lewis in my visions. This is all to save the most precious thing in the world. Whether we like or not, this is your mission.”
My head can’t fathom what it could be. I mean, calling something the most precious thing in the world is a stretch. What is so obviously more precious than anything in this life?
“Did you hear any hints?” I ask her.
“No.”
“So the March knows the Six Keys that will lead to the most precious thing?”
“I think so,” she grips my arms as I have to duck closer to the floor. Bullets are still showering. The Mushroomer is again saying, ‘guns!’ I realize the bullet have caused a few holes in the boat. Soon we’ll be sinking.
Then suddenly, something surreal happens. A machine gun falls on us from the sky. The Mushroomer is somehow right.
Black Chess Headquarters
“The Pillar is probably dead, Mr. Jay,” the Red tells his boss who sits smoking his cigar on the desk.
Still, no one could see Mr. Jay’s face. No one asked. No one wanted to know. It’s been said he was the scariest of them all.
A low sound of him inhaling sent shivers to the Red’s spine. “So he killed my precious Queen of Hearts and then killed himself?”
“Looks like it.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s a mad world,” the Red chuckled uneasily. He knew what was coming. Why the heck did he let out that spontaneous chuckle? A bullet carved a hole in his cloak and he fell, dead on the floor.
Another Red stepped up to talk to Mr. Jay. The office had reeked of dead men anyway. Mr. Jay had killed anyone who was stupid or unlikable. He didn’t bother cleaning. He liked the scent of death.
“Here is what I want you to do,” Mr. Jay said. “Make sure the sneaky Pillar is dead.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the Red said. “And Alice, should we still kill her?”
“Kill everyone around her but don’t kill her,” Mr. Jay said. “Right now she could be the only one who knows about the Six Keys’ whereabouts.”
“As you wish, Master,” the Red bowed.
“Then send a message to the Cheshire. I want the world to go even crazier. I want them to loathe Alice, so when we catch her, she has nowhere else to escape.”
“Will do, Boss.”
“Also, tell the Cheshire he’s done a good job,” Mr. Jay chuckled. “I mean, I watched The Godfather yesterday and Marlon Brando was nothing compared to his act as Cardone, the Vatican’s new pope.”
“He was, wasn’t he?” the Red said, trying his best to please and not die. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Mr. Jay’s voice sank into an oblivion of sadness. “Make sure to bury the Queen of Hearts.”
“But of course.”
“Give her a proper funeral”
“Definitely.”
“Bury her in flowers, not mud.”
“Understood.”
“Chop off the heads of a thousand cows during her funeral.”
“If you say so.”
“Let the little children sing to her. Wish her a good afterlife.”
“That’s easy to do, sir.”
“Also, invite the presidents of the world. I know it’s a harsh time and the world is going crazy, but her funeral has to be epic.”
“I will, Master.”
Mr. Jay took some time to reflect and then asked, “Is there anything left of her body? I remember I saw the Pillar blow her head up.”
“None of the head. Only the torso. Short and stocky.”
“Hmm,” Mr. Jay said then addressed the Red behind him. “Cut off your friend’s head and bury it as the Queen’s.”
The River, London
“Guns!” A Mushroomer wheezes again.
I prep myself on my knees and squint at the sky above. How is this possible? Is this some sort of madness again?
“It’s raining guns, hallelujah,” the Mushroomer sings.
“This couldn’t be,” I say.
But then another weapon falls from the sky.
“Everybody cover your head or stay away from this area,” Constance says.
I grip a gun. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe this is the most precious thing?” Constance tilts her head inquisitively.
“Of course not,” I let out half a laugh.
The people on the shore are still shooting at us, but the boat has drifted farther into the unpopulated area so we’re a bit safer now. I think they aren’t shooting from that part of the city because it’s darker here. Only minutes before our boats sink.
“Is the gun loaded?” Constance asks, taking it away from me and pointing it at the helpless Tom Truckle.
He shies his head away and shivers. I wonder why she is so mean to him.
I shoot back at the people on the shore. “It is loaded.”
“Look,” Constance points at the shore.
“What?”
“They stopped shooting,” she says. “Once they heard you shoot back. They are cowards.”
“Who would believe we have guns falling from the sky?”
“So all we need is to escape now.”
“That’s it,” I say. “Gather the Mushroomers in one boat, if possible, as I check out the guns source.”
She does. I stand next to the Mushroomer and shares his gaze of the dark of the night sky.
“What are you seeing?” I ask.
“The man in the sky.”
“There is a man in the sky?” I can’t see anything but mushy dark patches of clouds.
“He sends the guns,” the Mushroomer says.
“You mean… God?”
“No,” his sounds upset with my questions, my stupidity, and naivety. “God is busy.”
“But this man isn’t?”
“Of course he isn’t. He is dead. Nothing to do when you are dead.”
> “Oh. I understand.”
“He will be sending more,” the Mushroomer says.
And he is right. A short moment later two more machine guns fall, splashing on the boat’s wet floor. Tom wants to reach for one, but Constance hits him on the hand like a mother hitting her child’s when he reaches for cookies.
“So you can talk to the man in the sky?” I ask the Mushroomer.
He shrugs his shoulder with distaste. “I told you he is dead. What are you, mad?”
“Sorry,” I say. “I am Alice by the way, but I am sure you know.”
“I know,” he says. “You’re doing well, kiddo. Just wait for more guns.”
“If you say so,” I shrug my shoulders. There is nothing more to say.
I don’t really care who is sending us guns from the sky, and have no time to think about it. I look back at Constance, as she has gathered most of the Mushroomers in one boat.
“What now?” She says.
“The darker side of the shore,” I say. “You and I will row before the boat sinks.”
But then horror droops her face. She doesn’t need to tell me why. The answer comes in the form of a bomb that hits the empty boats we just left behind.
I look around. The tanks are shooting at us.
Past: The Poison Garden, Alnwick, Northumberland,
“Lewis Carroll himself,” the Pillar said.
Carroll looked behind him and saw the caterpillar sitting atop of a huge white mushroom, smoking his favorite hookah.
“Haw mayh ah halp yoooh?” the Pillar said slowly, comfortably, and numbly. With his beady eyes and relaxed posture, leaning back, he seemed like he had all the time in the world — to smoke all the drugs in the world.
“I wouldn’t say I need your help,” Lewis said with pride. “You’re nothing but a merchant and I am nothing but a customer.”
The Pillar put the hookah aside and rubbed his eyes. “You’re Lewis Carroll, aren’t you?”
“In the flesh.”
“Did you just call yourself a customer?” the Pillar grinned.
“Yes,” Lewis said with dishonor.
“Do you have problems at home?” the Pillar didn’t lose his grin, but tilted his head.
“What?”
“Problems with women?”
“I am not following.”
“Did you do something wrong?”
“Wait. Why do you ask?”
“It’s the one reason you would want to buy drugs from me.”
“No,” Lewis waved his hand in the air. “You misunderstood. I don’t want drugs.”
“Then you lose, my friend,” the Pillar leaned back to his hookah, disappointed. “The way out of the garden is here,” he pointed west then squinted. “Wait, it’s here,” he pointed east. “Nah, I think it’s here. Whatever. Suit yourself and find your way out like you found your way in.”
“But I want you to help me,” Lewis said. “Well, I said it. I admit it. I need your help.”
“If it doesn’t have anything to do with drugs, then you should go get help from your mother. I’m not into emotional assistance.”
“I need a mushroom.”
The Pillar leaned forward again. “I see,” he rubbed his chin. “So you’re a reluctant user. You want to try but aren’t sure, right?”
“That’s not it. I need a mushroom to forget.”
“Ohhh,” the words came out slow and thoughtful. “So you’ve done something bad. Very bad.”
“It’s not like that. I know a secret and need to forget so Carolus doesn’t know about it.”
“Then don’t tell Carolus,” the Pillar said nonchalantly.
“Carolus is inside me. In fact, he is me.”
“Hmm… so you want a mushroom to keep a secret away from yourself?”
“Close enough.”
The Pillar laughed wholeheartedly. He shook on the spongy mushroom underneath him. “I always knew you were a loon.”
“So how much does it cost?”
“That kind of mushroom costs a lot.”
“I have money.”
The Pillar laughed, “I never understand why people think money is valuable.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean all the money in the world doesn’t get you that kind of mushroom. In fact, I rarely get paid in money.”
“Then how do you get paid?”
“A currency more valuable and precise and swift than money.”
“Which is?”
“I get paid in favors,” the Pillar winked. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”
Lewis seemed reluctant. He couldn’t imagine what kind of favor the Pillar would ask of him. They weren’t even two different sides of a coin. The two men were two completely different coins. What would they have in common that the Pillar would consider a favor?
“What do you want?” Lewis asked.
The Pillar rubbed his hand and leaned ever closer. His eyes gleamed with excitement. “I want to get married.”
The River, London
The shooting tanks kill our hopes of escaping. The guns in our hands mean so little now. Sure they would help us with protecting ourselves against anyone from the shore coming closer, but not the tanks.
“I love you, man in the sky!” the Mushroomer insists on talking with open arms. I can’t save him anymore. He is enamored with whatever was up there.
As for me, I am all over the place, helping the others who got wounded while Constance begins rowing.
In a glance, I see the Mushroomer is gone. His man in the sky didn’t save him from the tanks.
In a moment of anger I pull out my two guns and fire aimlessly at the tanks by the shore. Nothing happened, of course. I am just blowing off steam.
Behind me, the Mushroomers and Constance look weirdly at me. They don’t expect me to lose my temper. I am supposed to be calm so that they stay as calm as possible. The worst thing in the world is when you have to pretend you know what you are doing when you don’t.
“I’d say I dive in the water toward the shore is a good idea,” Constance shouts against the blaring sounds of the tanks.
“If I go, you will die,” I tell her.
I turn around and shoot blindly at the tanks. Another bomb misses me by a few meters. I flip back and fall into the water.
Swimming up, I wonder if I have a superpower or know some magic. Shouldn’t Alice have this sort of stuff?
I pull myself up and see the Mushroomers and Constance are staring upward.
“The man in the sky,” Constance says.
“What the hell?” I blurt, pulling myself up.
“He is real,” Constance is freaking smiling and pointing upward.
I crane my head and see a helicopter. A black one that strangely doesn’t produce a sound. It lowers slowly in our direction, swirling the wind and shaking the water all around us. We shield our faces with our hands as it closes in.
Then a tremendous amount of guns drop on the boat.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“Who cares?” Constance starts helping the Mushroomers into the helicopter.
I help them as well. I bend over to become a stepping stone so they reach for the helicopter’s door. It takes a lot of time and some of Mushroomers die in the process.
“What about him?” Constance points at Tom Truckle.
“What about him?” I ask. “We have to save him as well.”
“I don’t trust him,” Constance says.
“I don’t care,” I pull his hand toward the helicopter. “What’s wrong with you?” I sneer at Constance as she ducks away from another bomb.
She lets out an angry growl. “I will take care of the March Hare. He deserves to live.”
As I help the last Mushroomer up to the helicopter, I stretch out a hand for Constance to pull me up. Instead it’s someone else who stretches out.
I don’t know if I should laugh or not, but I can’t believe this is who came to save us. I actually missed him a lot.
I take his hand. “You drive helicopters now?”
“Well, Mr. Pillar let me go, and I needed to make a living. Welcome aboard.”
Past: The Poison Garden, Alnwick, Northumberland, England
“Married,” Lewis Carroll stopped himself from laughing. He couldn’t imagine who would marry this beast. Also who would want to be the Pillar wife or even child.
“Honestly, I’m still too young for that,” the Pillar reasoned. “And I had never considered myself the marriage type.”
“Then why do you want to get married now?”
“Love,” the Pillar blew out smoke the shape of the heart and he stared at it with beady eyes as it waved before him.
“Love?” Lewis put his hand in his pockets. “Seriously?”
“It’s a beautiful thing, Lewis. You should try it some time.”
Lewis shrugged. The Pillar was referring to Lewis loveless life. “So how does this have anything to do with me doing you a favor to get my mushroom?”
“You know the bride.”
“Ah, that’s it,” Lewis ran his hand through his hair. “Look, Pillar, no offense, but it’s really going to be hard to convince anyone to love you.”
“She doesn’t have to love me,” the Pillar said. “I love her. That’s all that matters.”
“Whoa,” Lewis rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t have time. Really. Carolus could wake up any moment. Ask anything else of me.”
“No marriage, no mushroom. Take it or leave it.”
Lewis sighed, feeling his migraines returning. Soon he will be stuttering again. Soon the pain will return. Soon Carolus will come alive. “All right, who is she?”
“So you’re going to tell her?” the Pillar clapped his hands like a child.
“Yes,” Lewis said. “But I don’t guarantee anything else.”
“Don’t worry. I’m charming. I will make her mine.”
“So who is she, Pillar?”