Chapter Thirteen
An Old Friend Revisited
As she travelled further along the path, and in the right direction this time, Alice felt that she would soon be going home. Yes, she had a long way to go and, yes, she still had to find the White Rabbit in his neat little house, but she felt happy, content in the knowledge that she knew who she was, and where she was in her life. Turning a bend, Alice said, “I hope it’s not far, for it must be getting quite late by now, and I am beginning to feel dreadfully hungry.” She continued walking. There were no plants bordering this section of path, only orange-painted curbs and the occasional bench. Alice walked some more. Despite the lateness of the hour, the sun shone brightly down, making Alice thirsty as well as hungry. Taking off her fur coat, wiping her brow, she said, “This is terrible, I am hungry and thirsty, with nothing to satisfy my needs.” Approaching the next bench, she sat upon it, to take a much need rest. “If I weren’t so dreadfully uncomfortable within myself,” she said, “I might enjoy this fine view.” And it was indeed a fine view, with hill after hill drawing her eyes far into the countryside, across the wonderful landscape to a particular spot on a particular hill where, halfway up it, Alice thought she saw something familiar...
“Why, that’s the entrance to the fertilizer mine!” she cried out, quite in surprise, for up until then she had no inkling that she had travelled so far. “Fle must surely have something in there that I can eat – and drink,” she said in a happier tone of voice. Standing up, abandoning her hat and coat, Alice set off for the fertilizer mine...
Although it was a good distance – and hard travelling (all those hills, you know), Alice felt happy in the knowledge that her good friend, Fle, would offer her a fine welcome.
When she got to within shouting distance of the mine entrance, Alice called out, “Fle, it’s me – I’m back!” But the mine and its entrance remained eerily silent. All that she heard was the yellow-painted sign rattling ominously in the wind. “Fle, it’s me, Alice,” she called out again, but no one answered, no one invited her in. Increasing her pace, Alice dashed the last few yards to the mine entrance, worried for the wellbeing of her small friend. On reaching the gates, she found them padlocked, shut to the world. But knowing this meant nothing, that Fle kept them locked most of the time, to protect his precious fertilizer, she pulled hard on one of the gates, squeezed through the gap and into the mine. “Fle?” she whispered, (within the confines of the mine Alice’s voice sounded so much louder).
“Are you there?” She heard nothing. “Fle – I said it’s me, Alice!” But yet again she received no answer, no reply.
Making her way in, down the sloping entranceway, towards the dark interior of the mine, Alice was unable to see any sign of the little elf. Then she remembered the secret area, the place where he kept his stash of fertilizer, safe from prying eyes. “Yes, that’s it,” she said hopefully. “He must be in there.” Alice searched for the concealed passageway and, finding it, she entered the hidden cavern, where she hoped to find the elf busy at work, packing his sacks of prized fertilizer.
On entering the cavern, she found it in complete darkness, “Fle,” she called out. “Are you there? Fle, it’s me, Alice!” Nothing, no one replied. Fearing the worst, Alice panicked, thinking the old elf must have fallen, that he was lying unconscious somewhere in the inky darkness. With trembling fingers, Alice searched for the rope she had seen him using, to allow light into the darkest areas.
Finding it, she quickly untied it and pulled the rope with all of her might. The trapdoor swung open, sending beams of bright sunlight streaming into the cavern.
As the sunlight banished the darkness, Alice’s eyes searched frantically for her friend. Hurrying between the piles of fertilizer sacks she searched and searched and then searched some more, but Fle was nowhere to be seen. Alice even climbed to the top of one of the piles, in case Fle had collapsed up there, but he hadn’t.
Eventually Alice was forced to accept that he was not in his mine. She didn’t like doing it, but she knew in her heart and her soul that if she was ever to find him it was not going to be there.
Pulling the gates ajar, Alice slipped through, into the daylight. “What can I do, to find him?” she said worryingly. “Hmm, I wonder what Mortar would do – he has a level head, or King Tut, or the Cat or––?” Then she had it, Alice knew who she must ask. Delving a hand into her apron pocket, she took out the out the little rodent. “Mouse,” she said, gently rubbing its soft fur with a finger. “Oh, little Mouse...”
Stretching its legs, the Mouse yawned sleepily, asking, “Cheese?”
“No,” said Alice, “I am sorry; I don’t have any cheese. But if you help me, I am sure Fle will give you all the cheese you can eat!”
Yawning again, it said, “I could really do with some... Not even the smallest bit?”
“No,” Alice replied, shaking a finger at the Mouse, to show how serious she was. “No cheese until we have found Fle!”
“Fle?”
“Yes, Fle, he’s my best friend, here at the top of the world, I think.”
The Mouse listened to all that Alice told him about her friend, Fle, from how she had met him in the fertilizer mine, to how he had helped her to fertilize the talking aspidistras. Then she explained how she had found him missing, only minutes earlier, on her return to the mine.
“So you see, Mouse, we must find Fle!”
Thinking deeply (well, as deep as a mouse is capable of thinking), the Mouse replied, “I still owe you, for saving me from that Cat…” His eyes darted from side to side, and he said, “Where is he, anyhow?”
“Far away,” Alice replied, having no interest in going into any more detail than was necessary.
“In that case,” said the Mouse, lifting its head high into the air, to get as a clear a view on the subject as was possible, “we must make haste.”
“Haste, I agree with,” said Alice, worried for her friend, “but in which direction?”
“Ah,” said the Mouse, yawning lazily, “Ah,” it said again – and then again, causing Alice’s blood pressure to begin rising (you see, she thought the Mouse to be dillydallying far too much). The Mouse, however, was not dillydallying, he was hatching a plan. Raising a paw, he said, “Your friend, this Fle person – he is a person, isn’t he?”
“He’s an elf!” said Alice, annoyed with the Mouse and his new line of enquiry.
“Ah,” said the Mouse, “how unfortunate…”
“Why is being an elf unfortunate?”
“Size, for one thing,” he replied drolly, at a loss as to why Alice was getting so worked up. He continued, “If he had not been an elf, I hazard a guess he might well have been a great deal taller…”
“And I’d hazard a guess he might well have been a great deal smaller,” Alice retorted, shaking a finger at the Mouse, “if he happened to have been – a silly old mouse!”
Seeing how angry Alice was getting, the Mouse, having no intention of suffering her wrath, decided to move on with his thinking. He told her about his plan…
After the Mouse had finished speaking, telling her about his plan, Alice found herself harbouring some doubts as to the possibility of it working, but having no alternative plan, she went along with it, anyhow.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” the Mouse replied, “considering what I have let myself in for...”
“Then what are we waiting for?” she said, picking him up and throwing him as hard as she could.
The little Mouse flew through the air, getting smaller and smaller until Alice lost sight of him. It was only the Mouse’s forward thinking that saved the day, because when he landed, when he fell to hard earth, he began squeaking, he began squeaking so loud and so shrill, Alice had no other option other than hearing him.
“I can hear him!” said Alice. “In those tall grasses, up ahead, a bit to the right.”
Although Alice knew where the Mouse had landed,
she was unable to see him. This was also a part of the plan...
To an outsider, this action, throwing a Mouse, might appear foolhardy. The Mouse, however, knew exactly what he was doing, and when he landed (he knew how to land safely by rolling in the grasses without even suffering a bruise), he waited…
On hearing a rustling sound within the tall grasses, the Mouse remained perfectly motionless until, emerging through the tall blades, the ever so friendly face of the old elf – Fle – appeared.
“Hello,” he said, “I saws yous flying through the air, and I heard yous squeaking. It wus pretty frightening I can tell yous. Then I heard a crash. Thought yous might need a helping hand… Wus it a cat, that did this? They can be nasty beggars, you know.”
The Mouse made no effort to reply. Instead, he let out a squeak, a squeak so loud it travelled across, through the tall grasses, to Alice. On hearing it, Alice tore through the grasses, to the Mouse. At first she was unable to see him (she had strayed a little off course), then she spotted Fle and running over to him, she shouted, “Fle! It’s me, Alice!”
“Alice?” he replied, taken aback by her sudden appearance. “What are yous doing here?”
“I might well ask you the very same question,” Alice replied, panting from her exertions, “if the Mouse hadn’t already worked it out.”
“The Mouse?”
Stooping down and picking the Mouse up, she said, “Yes, of course.”
Raising an eyebrow, Fle asked, “How?”
Returning the Mouse to her apron pocket from which his little head looked out, Alice said, “We went into your secret cavern… I hope you’re not mad at us, we were worried about you…”
“And how did that help him t’know where I wus?”
“The fertilizer,” Alice explained. “The Mouse sniffed the bags, to see if he was able to pick up a clue. He’s got a good nose. He said there was another ingredient in it, something you cannot get from the mine… We guessed you were out somewhere, fetching it. Nodding, Fle listened in silence as the story unfolded. “The Mouse figured out a way of attracting your attention – and it worked!”
Scratching his head, in sheer disbelief at the ingenuity of the little rodent, Fle said, “He’s a cheeky little beggar, and clever to boot, finding out ‘bout my secret ingredient.”
“You’re not mad at us?” asked Alice, lowering her head, looking out from under her eyes.
Laughing, the old elf replied, “Me, maad at yous, Alice? That’s like the Queen of Hearts getting maad at the King, for asking her if she wants t’go on a trip in one of them there Travelling Palaces of his.” Alice laughed with the funny little man. “I suppose yous’ll be wanting to see how I gets my secret ingredient, now that yous’re here?” said Fle to Alice and the Mouse.
“No,” Alice replied vigorously, shying away from encroaching upon the elf’s private affairs any more than was absolutely necessary. From its pocket, the Mouse squeaked his agreement. “No,” she repeated again, “that’s your secret.”
With a mischievous grin, Fle whispered, “Ah, cuum on, I’ve been wanting to show someone – for years, and who better to be showing than my bestest of all friends, Alice? Oh, I mustn’t forget your furry little friend, also!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep, cuum on, follow me…” With that Fle began retracing his steps through the tall grasses, to where he had been hiding, before the little rodent had gone flying past overhead.
It was a dip in the land; nothing special to look at, the only difference between it and the surrounding area being the grasses growing within it were decidedly taller. As they walked down the gently sloping incline, Fle became strangely quiet, not a word passed his lips. Alice wondered why this was so. The Mouse, peeking out from its pocket, watched, but it dared not to squeak, not even a bit.
On reaching the centre, Fle stopped, and, turning round, he whispered, “This is a special place…”
“A special place?” Alice whispered in reply, even lower than he.
“Yes, a very special place indeed… I cuums here, every now and then, when I aam running short of my special, secret ingredient…”
It all sounded so exciting, to Alice, listening about Fle’s special secret. But on looking about, and seeing nothing unusual, she wondered where he managed to find it.
“I can sees yous are a wundering,” said Fle, grinning at Alice’s consternation. “And if it pleases yous, can I continue?”
“Of course,” she replied, still at a loss as to where the secret ingredient was to be found.
“Whenever I cuums out here, right here to this very spot,” said Fle looking about as if he were afraid someone else, other than Alice and the Mouse might hear. “I settles myself down, hiding in these tall grasses, waiting for it to begin…”
“To begin?” said Alice, her voice rising with her confusion. “Waiting for what to begin?”
After looking about again, to be one hundred percent sure that no one else was listening, Fle whispered, “Why, the approach, of course!”
“The approach – what approach?” Alice asked, thinking the little man was talking in riddles.
Eyeing Alice and the Mouse (it was still peeking out from her apron pocket) curiously, Fle said, “The approach of the bats, is what I do mean.”
“Bats?”
“Oh, yes,” said Fle, gazing skyward. “Bats gives me my secret ingredient.”
Alice stared into the sky, but saw nothing, not one single, solitary bat.
“I sees that yous are a doubting me…”
“No, I don’t doubt your word!” Alice insisted, returning her gaze to Fle. “It’s just that I can’t see any.”
Chuckling at Alice’s innocence, Fle said, “That’s because there aren’t any, silly girl!”
“Then why are you out here?” she asked, riled at being called a silly girl.
“I have to be out early, I needs the time to gets ready, so that when they cuums – WHAM – I gets my secret ingredient,” Fle explained excitedly, pounding a clenched fist into his open palm.
“Y, you kill the bats?” Alice spluttered; shocked at the wanton cruelty she envisaged.
“No, no,” Fle insisted, peeved that she could envisage him doing such a thing. “I whammy them. It doesn’t hurts them at all!”
“Whamming sounds terribly painful…” Alice continued.
Feeing that he was at nothing, trying to explain what he actually meant, Fle said, “Wait for a short while, it won’t be longs until they arrives – then yous will be understanding what I dus mean.” Hunched down, hiding in the tall grasses, Alice, Fle and the Mouse silently waited for the arrival of the bats...
It soon began; at first it was only the faintest of sounds, far away in the distance, but as the seconds ticked slowly away, the noise gradually increased, until it was so loud Alice began to get scared.
“Now don’t yous be a worrying,” said Fle, when he saw how worried Alice was getting, “there’s no danger in the process.”
Alice listened to Fle’s words, and she wanted to believe them, but when the bats finally came into sight, she crouched down even further, under the ‘protection’ of the tall grasses, afraid. Ignoring her concerns, Fle made himself ready to secure his next batch of secret ingredient.
The bats flew closer, closer, their dark leathery wings flapping, flapping. Shrieking, crying, ever closer to the recessed area, its tall grasses beckoning, beckoning, where unbeknownst to them, Fle waited lying.
Undaunted by the imminent arrival of so many of the black-skinned flying creatures, Fle suddenly jumped up, breaking cover, ready to whammy them.
Peeking cautiously, watching through the ‘safety’ of the tall grasses, Alice had no intention of offering the old elf any help if he got into difficulties – he was on his own as far as she was concerned.
The bats were so close now, Alice was sure she could smell them. Fle must have been able to smell them also, because, taking an enormously deep intake of breath, he
suddenly sprang into action. And he was fast, Alice was sure it was the fastest he had ever moved in his entire life, so fast he was little more than a blur to her eyes.
“I wills be a getting my secret ingredient!” he roared above the noise of the panicking bats, “And I wills be a getting it NOW!” From out of nowhere (that’s how Alice remembered it, later), Fle produced a net.
And it was huge. Twirling, spinning this net high above his head, Fle span it faster and faster and faster, so fast Alice lost sight of it. Letting out a cry of wild excitement, Fle suddenly let go of it, sending the net hurtling toward the screaming bats. It hit them, it struck them, it WHAMMIED them. Seeing this, Alice had no doubts the old elf was about to secure his secret ingredient – but how?
WHAM! The fast-moving net slammed into the panicking bats. But they weren’t caught. No. They passed harmlessly through it. Alice was stunned. The bats, however, having passed through the net continued their descent as if nothing had happened, landing in the tall grasses, chattering to each other in their own unique way.
Stretching an arm high out above him, Fle caught hold of the net as it returned fast to earth. “There, I told yous I would be getting the secret ingredient,” he said, grinning, slinging the bulging net over his shoulder.
Standing up, though watching the roosting bats with some suspicion, Alice asked, “How did you do that? And what’s in the net?”
Struggling under the weight of his net, Fle replied, “I caught them with a little bit of – magic. And it’s Arcanum – pure Arcanum.”
The roosting bats began to fade from Alice’s consciousness, and feeling braver she approached the old elf and his bulging net. She touched it. It moved. The net moved as if it was alive. Pulling her hand away – and fast, she asked, “What is this Arcanum stuff?”
It’s an elixir – the magic I uses allows me to extract it from all of them bats.” Then pointing to the bats, Fle continued, “They don’t feels a thing, and it’s all for a good cause, y’know.”
“But it’s moving!”
“That’s the life, the power of it,” Fle explained, “and what better creature to extract it from than fast-moving critters such as them.” He pointed at the roosting bats. “It’s also a liquid – all elixirs are liquids, y’know.”
“Then why doesn’t it seep through the holes?”
“Tapping a finger against the side of his nose, Fle said, “It’s magic, r’member? I have tolds you that already.” Thinking he had explained enough, for the time being at least, the old elf asked Alice if she wanted to see how he added it to the raw fertilizer.
“Oh, yes please,” she replied, offering to help carry the heavy net.
“No needs to,” he replied, pointing over to one side. “I have brought my cart along with me.” Then she saw it, half hidden in the long grasses, Alice saw Fle’s battered old cart.
Watching the elf deposit his heavy net upon the little cart, Alice listened to it creak and groan under the weight. “Will it be strong enough?” she asked.
Tapping the cart, and laughing, Fle said, “Yep, this here old cart will most surely outlast even me.” He had no sooner said this, when a spoke in one of the wooden wheels shattered with a loud crack. The cart creaked and groaned some more. “Perhaps we had better be quickening to go, before that happens again,” Fle chuckled.
“Yes,” Alice agreed, “I think we had better.”
As they steered the cart carefully back to the mine, something troubled Alice, and she said, “Fle?”
“Yes, whats be yous a wanting to know?”
“It’s nothing, really,” she said, beginning to feel silly for asking.
“What bees it?”Fle asked her again.
“Back there, when you threw the net… You held your breath, I was just wondering – why?”
“Oh, that’s easy enough to answers,” said the elf, chortling at her innocence. “I wus holding my bref – them bats can be smelly beggars, hah, hah!”
“I know what you mean,” Alice replied, laughing along with him, “I certainly do.”
“Come on, Alice,” said Fle, pushing his cart all the faster, “I think it’s ‘bout time we all were back at the mine – home – for some refreshments…”
On hearing this, Alice remembered how hungry and thirsty she still was. The Mouse, his furry ears cocking, asked, “Might there happen to be some cheese, there?”
“As much as yous like,” Fle laughed.
Alice in Wonderland on Top of the World Page 13