Her Mad Hatter

by Marie Hall

  “Oh, dear me, no.” She laughed, her blondish-gray curls bobbed attractively around her pixie face. “How could you? Why this is the first time we’ve ever met.”

  Ookay. The woman was clearly one bat short in her belfry. “Right, well... let’s see,” Alice turned to the display case, trying to hurry things up, “seems all we’ve got left are the Red Queen’s Revenge.”

  “Oh,” the woman shook her head, “that old hag? Surely you could have come up with something better. Off with your head.”

  Had she not made that same joke to Tabby a few minutes ago? A shiver of strange zipped down Alice’s spine.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Umm.” It took a second for her to gather her wits. This woman was seriously weirding her out. Memo to her, check the web for any reports on missing mental patients. “Uhh, it’s red velvet. Frosting is Italian butter cream with flecks of pink peppercorn.”

  Cupcake lady groaned. “As much as I despise that fat bag of poo, that sounds lovely. I’ll take one, if you please.”

  “Sure.” She handed her the second to last cupcake. “Here you go.”

  The woman took the cake, unwrapped it and took the largest bite Alice had ever seen a woman take. It didn’t even seem like she chewed, before she crammed the rest in her mouth. “Mmm. Ohhh.” She made breathy cooing noises the whole time, a look of pure delight creasing her brows.

  Crazy or not, Alice bloomed with pride at the obvious enjoyment that had the other woman licking her fingers and pointing to the last one. “Yes, please. Thankfully I’ve no man to worry if my hips grow to the size of a hippopotamus.”

  “Yeah, well that makes two of us.” Alice smiled her first true grin. “Here, on the house.”

  The woman did another one of her man bites, sighed, and then patted Alice’s hand. “Oh, but, you do, dear.”

  “Mmm? Do what?”

  “You do have a man to worry about, although,” she leaned back on her heels and eyed Alice with a calculating glint, “he’ll go mad for each and every curve. Oh yes,” she nodded, now seeming to speak more to herself, “you’ll do very well.”

  Was this woman trying to set her up with one of her grandchildren or something? Bet he was just as creepy and bizarre as the old crone.

  “No thanks.” She frowned. Had it only been five minutes ago that she’d been having the best day of her life? “Auntie, I’m sorry, but it really is closing time. I have to clean up.”

  The woman smiled a secretive sort of thing. “Of course you do, my dear. Don’t be late. He’ll be waiting.” With a jaunty wave, she turned on her heels and left. The door jingled behind her.

  “Oh my gosh, Tabby.” Alice ran to the door and locked it. She leaned against it, heart beating frantically in her chest. “What the freaking hell was that?”

  Tabby popped her head out of the kitchen, a frown on her full lips. “What?”

  Alice pushed the teacup themed curtains aside and glanced out the window. Though the sun had set, the streets were still crowded with hundreds of tourists. Thankfully, crazy cupcake lady wasn’t one of them.

  “That woman.” She turned, with a swift shake of her head. “She was nuts. Kept trying to set me up with someone. Total creep job.”

  “Alice, are you okay?”

  She stopped. Why was her friend looking at her like she was a bug under a microscope? “The woman?” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Ate my last two cupcakes.”

  “No.” Tabby shook her head, her face a mask of confusion. “Honey, it’s been quiet as death out here. In fact I’d wondered if you’d fallen asleep.”

  She laughed. “Tabby, shut up. You’re just trying to freak me out.”

  Tabby planted her hands on her hips. She wasn’t laughing and now her look went from confusion to true concern. “Hun, are you feeling okay? Sleeping good?”

  Her voice was soft and patient, but wrinkles marred the corners of her eyes. She knew that look, had seen it before. A long time ago. It’d haunted her then, it haunted her still.

  Alice clenched her fists, her anger intensifying the dull ache in her skull, which in turn only wound her nerves tighter.

  A million thoughts buzzed in her head. Was Tabby lying? Trying to make her think she was crazy? She didn’t seem to be. How could she not have heard the woman? Quickly her eyes zoomed toward the case. Empty. Not crazy. She licked her lips and gave a self-effacing chuckle. “Yeah, you got me. I fell asleep.”

  Tabby shook her head. “You know what, sweetie. Let me call Beany. He can come help me finish up. Why don’t you call it a night, go take a bath, drink some wine and hit the sack? I think that’s what you need. Okay?”

  Alice knew she wasn’t crazy. The woman had been there. As equally sure of that as she was, she also knew trying to convince Tabby of it would only make her seem crazier. Not less.

  She pinched her nose. “Yeah, think it’s these heels. Air’s too thin up here.”

  Tabby smiled and walked back to the kitchen. “Leave the keys on the counter. I’ll lock up.”

  Alice undid her apron and tossed it onto the counter, knocking a white business card to the ground. That hadn’t been there before. Frowning, she walked over and picked it up, flipping it back and forth. The only thing on either side was a large picture of a white rabbit with the words: rub me.

  With a shrug, she tucked the card in her bra, set the keys on the counter, and headed to her apartment three blocks away.

  ***

  Steam curled around Alice’s face and she wiggled her pruny toes. She’d have to get out soon, but not yet. Instead, she took a long, slow sip of the tart red wine, studying the card.

  No matter how many times she turned it, nothing changed. The smiling rabbit mocked her.

  “That crazy lady probably left this just to torment me.” Finishing the last of her wine, she set the glass down and got out. It took a second for the room to stop spinning. A silly grin split her face. She felt niiice.

  The tiny blare of her bedroom TV filtered under the crack of the bathroom door. She hated silence, especially because she lived alone. She quickly dried off, grabbed her boy shorts and cami top off the towel rack, and slipped them on.

  She’d not been able to resist the items when she’d spied them at a local boutique shop. The cami was a picture of Alice, bent over a table looking at the plate of cake with the sign that read: Eat me.

  She tied her hair back into a messy bun, quickly brushed her teeth, and groaned when red drops plopped into her white sink. Alice reached for toilet paper, dabbing at the nosebleed until it stopped. Stress always worked weird things in her body and this was not her first nosebleed. It probably wouldn’t be her last, either.

  Satisfied she was done bleeding, she tossed the papers in the waste bin, grabbed the card off her washstand and headed to her room. Thankfully, because she was sure the room was spinning. Needing to lie down, she plopped into the tangle of sheets and sighed.

  Every bone in her body throbbed and her muscles burned. But at least they were no longer stiff-- the hot water jets had done wonders. Lifting industrial size mixing bowls all morning was no joke.

  She flipped the card, obsessed beyond reason with why it’d been left there. Stupid that she should care. It was a dumb card. And yet...

  Rub me.

  Really? As simple as that?

  It’s not that she hadn’t considered doing it from the moment she’d seen the card. But honestly, this wasn’t Wonderland. In the real world when someone left a card like this, that person was usually hiding in wait until you rubbed so he could then howl in laughter at how stupid you were.

  Of course, she was alone now. Her thumb twitched, the obsession intensified tenfold.

  She laughed. “I can’t believe I’m falling for this.” But her head was a little swimmy, the room slightly out of focus, and she was feeling just crazy enough to give in to insanity.

  She rubbed her thumb across the words and waited. A quickening, like the flutter of moth’s wings pulsed ac
ross her skin. Alice sucked in a deep breath.

  The clocks ticked.

  The fake laughter of news anchors blared through her TV’s tiny speakers.

  She snorted.

  Nothing.

  “You’re such an idiot, Alice. Tabby was right--”

  “You’re late,” a nasally voice said.

  It did not come from the TV.

  Alice screamed and shot straight up. Every nerve in her body tensed for flight or fight. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. At the foot of her bed stood an enormous white rabbit in red livery, blinking huge bunny eyes back at her.

  “No way.” She glanced at the card. It was blank.

  “Come. Come.” He hopped toward the window, gesturing frantically.

  “Whoa.” How much had she had to drink? Two glasses, three maybe? She rubbed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

  He rolled his eyes. “As real as you, I’d reckon. Now come, come.” His hand...paws? … were on the window sill. He pushed it up, letting in a cool hibiscus-tinted breeze.

  “As if.” Oh my gosh, she’d cracked. Her mother was right. Too much Wonderland and sugar had finally rotted her brain.

  “Oy, why must all the Alices be so vexing?” the small voice growled. He hopped back to her. “Come.” He held out his paw.

  She scooted back on her heels, bumping hard into her headboard. “Get away from me. You’re not real. You’re not real.”

  “Bloody hell, Alice, you called and I came. But I must get back to me Duchess. So please hurry.”

  She shook her head, denying his words. Not real. White bunnies didn’t swear. Or talk. Yeah, they definitely didn’t do that.

  He hopped up on the bed and her stomach dove to her knees when the mattress caved in. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. This is so not happening.”

  Soft fur touched her bare flesh. She shivered as he grabbed her wrist in a surprising hold, taking them both toward the window. She dug in her heels, but he was really strong. All she managed to do was drag her sheets along with her.

  “We’re late...”

  “For a very important date,” she added, giggling with a note of hysteria.

  His eyes crossed. “Yes, well... upsy daisy now.”

  Then his paws were on her butt and she slammed her hands against the window frame. The crazy thing was trying to shove her through the window. She lived on the eighteenth floor.

  “Hell. To the N. O.” She wiggled, struggling. Her muscles flooded with adrenaline. Fear was a raw, consuming thing. She screamed, crying for help.

  But it was no use.

  With one final grunt, she fell.

  Chapter 3

  Air surged past Alice in a dizzying rush. She threw her hands over her face, stomach tickling as she waited for impact.

  But as the seconds ticked by, she cracked open one eye. She should have hit pavement and been a memory by now. “Oh, ah...” Words failed her. She’d expected to see blacktop, looming like a nightmare, instead... there was dirt. Everywhere. She was in a tunnel of it. Tree roots, gnarled and twisted, reached out toward her like writhing fingers in a haunted house.

  And then the dirt was gone, and suddenly there was nothing but clocks. Masses of them. Thousands. Zooming past in a Dali-esque blur.

  After a few minutes the tickling in her belly stopped, but still she fell. She huffed, wondering if this hell would ever end. Almost the moment she thought it, she was there. Wherever there was. She slammed her head and shoulders into something hard and cold, groaning at the webbing of pain that exploded in her body upon impact. It knocked her dizzy for a second and, when she opened her eyes, her vision blurred. The scent of crushed grass and sweet smelling flowers enveloped her in its heady embrace.

  “The Alice girl is here.”

  “Alice? Yet again?”

  “Little girl. Little girl.”

  “No, she is a woman, gnatty old fool. Look at those boobs.”

  The voices were constant, random and sing-song. She shook her head and groaned. “My head.”

  “She’s busted her head. What, what.”

  “Ohhhh,” crooned a teeny voice, “the Hatter won’t like that.”

  She froze at the sound of that name. Where the hell was she? She rubbed her eyes. It took a moment, but when she could finally make out what was before her, she couldn’t believe it. She grabbed her head. Flowers, too many different varieties to count, were looking at her.

  Looking at her!

  She yelped.

  They blinked.

  “She’s as loud as the rest. Truly, dearie, do ye not see ‘tis night?” a fluted yellow flower honked at her.

  She had to get home. Maybe she was home? Maybe this was all a dream. A bad, weird dream.

  “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”

  The voice was hot and gravelly, rolling over her body like a lover’s touch. She followed the voice and her thighs tingled.

  It was him. Alice swallowed. She’d know the face anywhere. She’d seen it before. A long, long time ago.

  She smiled, so many words on her tongue, none of them able to make it past numb lips.

  It was hard to gauge his height. He was sitting on a chair, a cup of tea in his hand, staring at her with a hard black glare. There was violence and madness burning in that gaze. And something else. Something that made her burn, made her nipples tighten into hard, almost painful buds.

  Last time she’d seen him he hadn’t looked so foreboding, or so sexy. She licked her lips.

  Silvery moonlight made his hair glint with shades of the darkest chocolate. The pressure of his gaze felt like a hot brand.

  Her pulse stuttered. Dreams shouldn’t make her so hot. Needy.

  It hadn’t before. Then again, she’d only been 13.

  “You.”

  She bristled, not because of what he said, but how he’d said it. A depth of meaning had been conveyed in that one word. Anger, disdain, even hate. Alice held her chin up, but her nails left crescent marks on her palm.

  His nose curled. “Bloody, damn fairy,” he spat.

  Alice was so startled she couldn’t even speak. Why the hell was he so angry? What had she done? And who was this fairy? She rubbed the back of her head. Was she dead? Maybe this was hell?

  With his dark hair and sharp brows, Hatter looked more like the devil than the white knight of her youth. The man she’d idolized, the very one she’d credited with saving her life. She could still see it in her mind’s eyes, her body lying weak and pale in the hospital bed, calling out for an imaginary savior. She’d never been more surprised than when he’d answered her…

  But clearly that memory belonged only to her. He didn’t seem to remember her at all.

  His lips thinned and a spark of something hot flashed through his eyes when he set his cup down. On freaking air! It literally hung, suspended as if by strings.

  She’d dreamed of Wonderland many times, but never like this. Never with so much detail. She could smell the wind, and colors she’d never seen in her life dotted the landscape. Vivid didn’t even begin to describe this.

  “Follow me.”

  Was he serious? “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Alice bit the inside her cheek. An owl hooted and she shivered.

  “Fine.” He narrowed his eyes. “Then stay.”

  He got up and she gulped. Though he stood a distance from her still, she knew he towered her by a good foot. At five foot two there wasn’t much that didn’t. He turned to go and she clenched her teeth.

  A thwamping sound rang through the sudden stillness of the field and her pulse thumped. She jerked, glancing over her shoulder. A chilling echo of laughter flitted through the dark silhouette of trees.

  Just a dream. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Thwamp.

  “You’re not really going to just leave me here, are you?” she yelled at his retreating figure.

  He stopped and, even though it was
dark, there was enough moonlight to the see the heated glare on his face. “Follow or stay.”

  “Follow or stay. Follow or stay,” she muttered under her breath, but rushed to catch up when she heard the next slithering thwamp.

  He wouldn’t look at her and he wouldn’t stop. Alice wanted to kick him. If this was a dream, he’d be nicer. Which meant it wasn’t a dream. But then there was that whole white rabbit thing.

  Each step they took the more and more she seethed. One step blurred into the next and the next until she wasn’t even sure how much time had passed. Only that it’d felt like forever and the silent treatment was quickly starting to wear thin.

  “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more polite.” The moment the words left her mouth she wanted to kick herself. Why the hell did she care?

  He didn’t stop and the field was now no longer a field, but rolling hills full of ruts.

  She panted, calves screaming as she gripped her side. Shoes would have been great right about now. Barefoot was so not fun, especially when dirt got between her toes and stones dug into her heels. But she would not stop and she would not beg him to, either.

  Since he wouldn’t talk and she couldn’t at this point, it gave her plenty of time to think. Whatever had happened tonight, she was pretty sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  The sights, the smells, the burning pit of anger gnawing at her gut. No, she wasn’t dreaming. And she wasn’t dead. Because she was pretty sure dead people didn’t want to murder something.

  She eyed the back of his brightly painted pin-striped suit. What was with the stupid get up anyway? Just how many pocket watches did one man need? She counted at least thirty, and that was on his back! Who did that? All her life she’d been infatuated by the man. Now... she rolled her eyes when her heart fluttered at the sight of his broad shoulders.

  A bead of sweat plopped off the tip of her nose. Annoyed, she wiped her brow. When would this torture end? Where the hell was he taking her?