Circus

by Cameron Jace

  “So the March Hare was right.” I try to make sense of it. “The Garden of Cosmic Speculation is a magical doorway to Wonderland.”

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” the Pillar says. “Why can’t we find you, then?”

  “Maybe the rabbit hole is a hole into another dimension,” I suggest. “More of a black hole, maybe.”

  “So the so-called Hatter planned all this to get you to find a secret doorway to Wonderland?”

  I think it over. It could be.

  “Maybe all he needed was to get to that door,” the Pillar says. “He fabricated all those clues to lead you to the March Hare, who would eventually send you to Wonderland. If you hadn’t met the March Hare, we wouldn’t have been granted entry by Interpol themselves.”

  “Are you saying he couldn’t have entered the garden by himself?”

  “It’s under surveillance and maximum security,” the Pillar says.

  “Then how did he get the rabbit in?”

  “Maybe he got it inside after we opened the gates,” the Pillar says. “Maybe he is among us now.”

  The idea makes me frantically circle the hole. Could the so-called Hatter be in here with me? But what are the dress, fan, and gloves for? Why would he send me in here, anyway?

  “Who else will discover the rabbit hole but you, Alice?” the Pillar says. “I don’t know how this works, but it seems right to me.”

  “It doesn’t click for me, Pillar.” I touch the walls, looking for a door out. If this is a replication of the rabbit hole in the books, then I should find a door out.

  “Hang in there, Alice. I will talk to Inspector Dormouse. We have to find you.”

  “Please do.” I squint at the walls, listening to the Pillar hang up.

  It occurs to me that the door is maybe too small or too big, like in the books, so I kneel down and feel the walls.

  And there it is: a small door at the bottom of the wall.

  Chapter 43

  Time remaining: 12 hours, 01 minutes

  The door is made of steel. It’s unbreakable.

  It has a small keyhole but no key. When I try to look through it, I only see darkness on the other side.

  My mind can’t come up with what to do next. There has to be a key, or a clue, but I can’t find any. I stare back at the map of Wonderland. Knowing there are so many places I can get to right now drives me crazy.

  I kneel down and look for a key in the dirt. There must be one. But I still don’t find any.

  However, I come upon a surprise: a tiny bottle with pink liquid inside.

  I lift it up beneath the phone’s light, and I don’t have to guess what’s written on the bottle’s label. It fits with the book, as if I am living the Alice story all over again—or reliving it, pick your insanity and go with it.

  The writing on the label says: Drink Me.

  I am totally aware of this being the Hatter’s game, and I know the consequences may be dire, but I have to play anyway. Not sure why, though. Am I doing this to find the rabbit, or...?

  I pull the cork and stare at the liquid. What will this drink really do to me? It won’t shrink me, will it? That would be so unlike the real world. Of course, I have seen madder things in this world, but I feel that shrinking in size is just too clichéd.

  But I suppose this is my only way out of this hole. I take a deep breath and gulp it in one shot.

  My eyes blur and my head feels like it’s going to explode. The impact is too strong and I fall to my knees.

  The phone rings next to me, and I can barely see the Pillar’s name flash on its screen. My hands feel numb, but I try my best to reach for it.

  When I succeed, and hear the Pillar’s voice, I realize I can’t speak. My tongue is numb. I am trying my best not to swallow it and die.

  Chapter 44

  Queen's Chamber, Buckingham Palace, London

  Margaret Kent watched the Queen get ready.

  It had taken her about an hour to fit into her dress, enough time to chop a couple of heads off in between—she was upset with her servant’s sluggish work, so a dead head lay next to her on the palace’s floor.

  “I’m ready, Margaret,” she wailed, powdering her face. “Are all my guests here?”

  “All of them arrived, My Queen,” Margaret said. “They’re waiting in the meeting room.”

  “So none of them rejected the invitation?” The Queen looked impressed.

  “Each and every one of the them from all over the world is in the meeting room.” Margaret hesitated. “Except one, of course.”

  “I know who that guest is.” The Queen pouted. “I expected the rejection.”

  Margaret was curious. “I’m surprised you invited that guest in particular to the Event.”

  “Some invitations are meant to be declined.” The Queen grinned. “But you wouldn’t understand it, Duchess. Some of my actions are too smart for the likes of you.”

  “But of course.” Margaret swallowed her humiliation. After all, it was the Queen who was dumb like a drum. But she couldn’t tell her that and risk her head being chopped off. “How would I ever match your genius, My Queen. Should I announce your arrival to the guests?”

  “Not before you kiss my hand.” The Queen sneered.

  Margaret bowed and kissed the Queen’s hand. It wasn’t an easy task, as every part of it was wrapped in jewelry.

  “That’s better, or I’d have sent you to the asylum, along with the flamingo,” the Queen said, chin up. “Now, go tell the guests I’m on my way, and once I arrive I will show them something they have never seen the likes of before.”

  Margaret obeyed the Queen and left.

  ***

  Once she was alone, the Queen pushed a button next to her bed and the secret door parted in the wall. She stepped through into what looked like a wall closet.

  On its floor, there was a coffin.

  The Queen pushed the lid open and stared at the woman inside. “I wonder what I should really do with your body,” the Queen said. “Should I burn it, or will I actually need to wake you up someday?”

  It only took her a moment to pull the coffin to a close again. Before she did, she took one last look at the real Queen of England inside, the one she had managed to change her features to match.

  The Queen of Hearts of Wonderland wasn’t happy with looking like the real Queen of England. That Queen looked too peaceful, too smiley. Where was the grit? Where was the power?

  But it was a necessary evil to her—she’d made the transformation through a nonsensical Lewis Carroll potion—at least until she persuaded her visitors with her world-changing plan.

  Chapter 45

  The rabbit hole, the Garden of Cosmic Speculation

  Time remaining: 12 hours, 01 minutes

  I wake up to a continuous beeping on my phone.

  Eyes still blurry, I reach for it blindly until I clasp it by accident from the floor. When I bring it to my face, I am shocked by its size. It looks as big as a plasma TV.

  How so, when I am gripping it in the palm of my hand?

  The pain in the back of my head attacks me, and I remember that I am under the influence of the pink drink in the bottle.

  Did it really shrink me, now that I think I am smaller than my own phone?

  But I’m gripping it. What kind of mind-bend is that?

  Through my hazy vision, I realize that almost everything around is much bigger than me. Or I am much smaller than them.

  Even the small door at the foot of the wall.

  Then again, when I reach for it, I can touch it as if it’s small, not big.

  The phone keeps beeping.

  I push the overly big answer button—the one that is also small—and find more than a hundred messages from an anonymous number.

  It must be the Hatter.

  What you’re experiencing now is no hallucination—although it is in a way. It’s a medical condition, induced by the pink drink. It’s called the Alice Syndrome.

  What?

/>   Furious, I message back:

  Why don’t you just talk to me face to face, instead of hiding behind the alphabet of your messages!

  The reply arrives instantly:

  I don’t think that will be useful, since you can’t talk at the moment.

  Suddenly, I remember my numb tongue. I try to say my name but can’t. My tongue is just dangling like an earring from my mouth. I suppose it was also induced by the drink, but it feels horrible.

  What do you want from me? I message back.

  A reply arrives:

  To continue playing the game until it has to stop.

  I don’t even know what that means. He continues writing:

  You will crawl through the small door and find yourself in a vast tunnel system underground. Then, with the GPS coordinates, I want you to find a place for me.

  I write back:

  How can I even get past the door?

  He writes back:

  Don’t worry, I will tell you how. You haven’t asked me about the place I want you to find. I’m starting to think you’re not taking this seriously. If you don’t, I will set the rabbit loose on the streets of London.

  I have no idea how he’d send the rabbit back to London, or where the rabbit is right now. All I know is that I am dealing with craziest maniac I’ve met so far. I don’t think I can ask him where I really am.

  Where is that place?

  He responds immediately:

  If I knew I’d have found it myself. Only you can find it. It’s either in Wonderland or the real world. I am not sure, but I know it can be accessed behind that small door—and don’t ask why.

  My tongue still feels numb. I write to him:

  I will do as you say, but you will show me the rabbit’s place in return when I finish your mission. Again, does the place have a name?

  He takes a bit longer again:

  It’s called the circus.

  A lot of memories flood into the swimming pool of my brain. It’s as if I know this place, but I can’t really tell. I remember the March Hare telling me about the circus in the Garden of Cosmic Speculation, and how dangerous it is. Why did he warn me about a circus? Isn’t it supposed to be a fun place? Unless you meet the clown, of course.

  I type back:

  If you don’t know where the circus is, how am I supposed to find it?

  A response arrives:

  Once you pass that door, memories of your past should come back to you. That’s when you will know where the circus is.

  I type:

  Are you saying you’re one of those who believe I am the Real Alice?

  The reply:

  You better be, or a lot of people will die. Now get past that door.

  Furious again, I write:

  How?

  He responds:

  What do you mean how? I suppose you think you need a key. Not all doors open with keys. Some you only have to knock, and they will let you in.

  Chapter 46

  Beyond the door, the Garden of Cosmic Speculation

  Time remaining: 11 hours, 30 minutes

  Once I knock, the doorknob turns and the door opens, and a gust of wind plows against my chest. It smells of mushrooms.

  With a numb tongue and misleading vision, I realize I am not underground anymore. Instead, I’m looking at the colorful world of Wonderland.

  It seems hard to grasp its vastness at first—harder to believe this is really happening.

  But I step forward into a green road with yellow bananas for trees, bending on both sides. The banana trees have their sides peeled. A few birds twitter on top on the edges.

  The sky is the color of marmalade, which is gross at first sight, but within the context of all the green and yellow, orange shines through. It all looks like a child’s drawing.

  There isn’t enough time to take in the surroundings. I prefer to figure out how I’m supposed to find the circus—which isn’t showing on my Wonderland map.

  I walk ahead, looking for someone to meet, but the place seems abandoned.

  Where did everyone in Wonderland go?

  A banana tree bends too close, as if spying on me.

  “What do you want?” I want to say, but nothing comes out. My tongue feels like cotton.

  I am not even sure the banana—or the tree—is as large as I think.

  When I stare at my feet, they are bigger than the hole I fell through earlier. They flap loudly, as if I’m a seal.

  My toe is also scaring me. It’s really awful and big. Red, as if bruised. It’s one big tomato.

  I look away.

  Where is everyone?

  I take another look at my phone. I see a few locations on the map. The Queen of Hearts’ palace, the Muffin Man’s house, and big chessboard land.

  I also spot Lewis Carroll’s studio, which looks like it’s on the edge of Wonderland. It makes sense now that I saw him enter Wonderland from a door in Oxford University when I met him through the Tom Tower a couple of weeks ago.

  But if Oxford University is tangent to Wonderland, how am I in Scotland right now? Or am I?

  It’s mind-boggling. Messed up. Dizzying.

  I decide to accept things the way they are, just like the Pillar said.

  I hate how the Pillar is always right. Trying to apply logic, or even a fragment of logic, in the insane world I am in is useless.

  So I go with the flow.

  I have a circus to find.

  Strange enough, the map doesn’t show a circus in Wonderland, and I don’t remember a circus in Lewis Carroll’s book.

  I have no idea where to find this circus, or why it’s so important—the March Hare warned me of it, and the Hatter desires it. The Pillar doesn’t know much about it.

  “Psst,” I hear a female voice call me. “You can’t keep walking like that in here.”

  I stop in my tracks, but don’t see anyone around me.

  All but a tiger lily bending over toward me, a little too large, of course.

  I shake my head, longing for an explanation, as I can’t talk.

  “You look like you’re from another world, walking in those jeans and boots,” Tiger Lily says, and suddenly I realize it’s my Tiger Lily. “You should put on the maid’s dress.”

  How does she know about the maid’s dress in my bag?

  “Hurry!” it insists, as it always does in the real world.

  I take a moment to think about it. Whenever she talks to me, I am usually in my hallucinating mode. So what does that mean now? Or is it part of my induced Alice Syndrome?

  Tiger Lily grins. I think she knows what I am thinking about. “Ah.” She twists her petals. “You think you’re mad because I’m talking to you.”

  I nod.

  “I don’t blame you, because frankly: how come a flower talks?” She snickers. “But the thing is, who will you be talking to if I don’t talk to you? In other words, would you prefer loneliness over madness?”

  Well, that’s the Tiger Lily I know. I wonder why I am so attached to it. Whatever happened in the past between me and her?

  But if I am going to comply with her logic, I need her to do something for me first. I point at my dangling tongue.

  “Are you bargaining now?” She takes a minute to think it over. “I like it when you don’t give up easily. Why not.” She spits blueberries at my tongue.

  They break open and tickle me, then sting, but finally I am able to speak again. “How do I get to the circus?” I ask immediately.

  “Ah, the circus,” she says. “You don’t want to go there, Alice. You don’t want to go there.”

  Chapter 47

  Wonderland

  Time remaining: 10 hours, 38 minutes

  “Don’t give me advice,” I retort. “I know what I am doing. I need to find the circus for this Hatter so he’ll show me where to find the rabbit. I think I have around ten hours left before a bomb goes off.”

  “Boom!” Tiger Lilly snickers again. I hate her when she goes nuts like that. “Well, first you n
eed to put on the dress, like I told you.”

  Since I don’t want to look like an intruder in this world, I put it on. It’s a bit too small for me, but I force myself to fit. “Should I wear the gloves and the fan too?”

  “Nah,” she says. “Their time hasn’t come yet.”

  “So you know what all of this is about,” I say.

  “I do.” She nods. “So do you.”

  “What do you mean? I have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Oh, you do. You just don’t remember it yet.”

  “Then why don’t you remind me?” I sigh.

  “What’s the fun in that, Alice?” she says. “One is never told the truth. One has to find it out.”

  “Whatever that means.” I tighten the laces of the dress and take off my shoes.

  “But I can tell you that the glove and fan in your pockets are useless. All you need is the dress.”

  “They can’t be. I found them, according to the Hatter’s clues.”

  “Not those,” she says. “You got the wrong ones. The real ones are with the wonders.”

  “Wonders?” I blink. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s a puzzle you have to solve, but way later, not now,” she says. “Now, let me tell you about what you’re looking for in here.”

  “The circus,” I say. “Where is everyone, by the way?”

  “Everyone is in the circus.”

  “Okay?” I tilt my head. “So it wouldn’t be hard to find it, right?”

  “It’s tricky, Alice,” she says. “Very tricky. I mean, doesn’t it strike you as strange that every single Wonderlander is in the circus right now?”

  I look around and shrug. It’s extremely unsettling that Wonderland is vacant like this. She is right.

  “That’s why you should think twice about the circus.”

  “I told I’m not going to rethink it,” I say. “Tell me how to get to the circus.”

  “I’m sorry, Alice,” it says. “I want to protect you from the circus, so I will not lead you to it.”

  “You know what? I’ll find it myself.” I turn around and walk ahead.