by Cameron Jace
The Cheshire is about to suck Constance's soul the way a cat sucks an infant's breath in real life.
64
Although I am bleeding, I have no choice but to run and bump the Cheshire again. This time, I close my eyes briefly and try to remember what Jack Diamonds told me about the art of None Fu. He said that only if I believe in the power of nonsense can I acquire it. The world is mad, after all. The only thing that stands up to mad is nonsense. All I have to do is any one of those kung fu ninja moves I see in the movies. It's not the move, he said. It's how much you believe it. It's ridiculous, but I have no choice but to try it. I run and imagine myself jumping in the air and kicking the Cheshire in the stomach.
Here I come with my None Fu powers.
I end up bumping into the Cheshire and falling again. None of what Jack promised me worked. I must be doing something wrong. Suddenly, I wonder why Jack's help doesn't appear to work. I mean, I'd go on a date with him now to save Constance.
"You really think you can try to stop me?" The Cheshire woman seems insulted by my attempt. She bends over me while I am on the floor, Constance choking in her grip. "Can't you see you're not the Real Alice?" she says. "I have to admit, the Pillar had me fooled into believing it was you when you saved Constance in the Great Hall. This is why I invited you here, to see if you're the Real Alice. But you're not. You have none of her strength. The Real Alice is dead!"
The Cheshire keeps bending over me and grinning. I stretch my arm, hoping to find a stone to throw at him. I have succeeded in stalling him, but I have no idea what to do next. My hand comes across that useless umbrella again. I pull it near, knowing that it's not good enough to hit the Cheshire. All I do is point it at him to keep the distance. I do it as if I am holding a gun. Wouldn't it be frabjous if this umbrella turned out to be a sword, like the one the White Queen had?
I accidentally push the umbrella's button, and it springs open, separating me from the Cheshire, who has already stretched back to suck Constance's soul. It all happens so fast, but the umbrella doesn't really block the view. It's rather transparent on my side, in the craziest way. I see coordinates and measurements all over it as if it's a soldier's navigator.
Through the umbrella, I watch the Cheshire open Constance's mouth and start to inhale from it.
Suddenly, I realize there is a small trigger on my side of the umbrella. This little thing turns out to be one nonsensical gun. In a flash, I adjust the target on the Cheshire and pull the trigger.
If I were in my sane mind, I'd contemplate and try to find a meaning to all of this. But this is the mad world I am living in. I watch as a surge of rainbow lightning hits the Cheshire, like an electric current. The old woman falls on her knees. Not dead, but she lets Constance go and meows in pain.
I look at the umbrella in my hand in wonder. This is the silliest, most provocative weapon ever. I mean, it's even better than the Pillar's hookah.
The light gets the activists' attention. Seeing their tribal leader in pain, they let go of the Pillar and turn to me, all claws, all fangs, all mad.
I stand up and take Constance by the hand, running to the door leading down the stairs. The activists block the door and purr at me. I am a weakened human in Catland.
"If the umbrella is a gun, it must do other things too," the Pillar shouts. He is nodding at the cloistered windows while he's whipping at the activists with his hookah. I am not sure it's a good idea, but there is no way out, and the Cheshire will be back on his feet soon. "Go on, Alice. I'll take care of these silly cats," the Pillar says.
I take a deep breath and run with Constance toward the window. No one stops me because there is nowhere for me to go. I stand on the edge and pull Constance up with me.
"What are you going to do, Alice?" Constance asks with horrified eyes, looking down at the massacre. It's too far below.
"You trust me, right?" I squeeze her hand. My other hand is holding the umbrella.
Constance nods and squeezes my hand back. "Are we going to jump?"
"Yes." My heart is racing. There is no other way out.
"You're like Mary Poppins."
"I don't know who that is. I have spent too much time in an asylum," I say. "Now, you are a brave girl, and you will jump with me, right?"
She nods reluctantly.
"It's easy, Constance. All you have to do is believe."
"Believe in what, Alice?"
"Madness." I pull her tighter and jump.
65
While people are getting killed below us, we float gently down to the ground with my umbrella. It's easier than if I had had a parachute. Constance giggles at the magic. I pray to God that this is really happening and that I am not insane. While we land, cats fall from the sky all around us.
"The madness begins, Alice!" the Pillar shouts from above before he gets back to his fight. I doubt he will survive this one.
But the Pillar is right. Landing with the umbrella is nothing compared to the madness happening around us. Big cats run after humans left and right, slashing at them and killing them. Many humans die because their minds can't comprehend the absurd reality of what's happening. When the sky rains cats, I believe it takes everyone some time to realize it's really happening.
I run with Constance next to me, shooting cats with my umbrella. I don't know if I should feel bad about it, but these aren't real cats. They are beasts made by the Cheshire. It's all wrong, but I promised a little girl that I would save her, and I am working on it. All I need is to bring her back to her parents. We run together through the narrow streets, wishing for the main road.
Out on the streets, Belgian police and ambulances are everywhere. But none of them want to take me and Constance. A nurse tells me that they figure we're all right, and they better save the others. Seconds later, she gets bitten by one of the big cats.
I walk ahead and see that the whole massacre is being broadcasted on TV in the coffee shops already. People are either appalled by it or laughing their heads off. One boy asks if he can watch. He looks over my shoulder instead because he doesn't like this cartoon the grown-ups are watching.
Suddenly, a car rushes by, splashing dirt on us. Before I shout at the driver, he reverses, splashing me once more. I can't see him through the framed windows, but I don't need to be a magician to know who he is. It's an old sports car, all white, and has diamonds painted all over it, making it look like one big, silly playing card.
"Alice!" Jack Diamonds jumps out. "You're not stalking me, are you?" His dimples lower my guard again. The radio inside the car is playing a song called "It's Raining Cats. Hallelujah!”
"Seriously?" I pout. "It's you again?"
"I was attending a Formula One race in France," he says. "Just around the corner."
"And let me guess. You won, right?" I snicker.
"Actually, no. But I finished fourth," he says. "There were only four contestants. So what's all the fuss about the sky raining cats?" He looks over my shoulder.
"Believe me, you don't want to know."
"If you say so. How are you, Constance?" Jack says.
"I'm fine!" She giggles.
"Alice sure loves you," he says, kneeling down. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"
"I was kidnapped by an old woman who thinks she is the Cheshire Cat," Constance replies.
"Did she have claws?" Jack says, his face dimming.
"Yes," Constance said. "How did you know?"
"I think she is actually coming for you again." Jack looks over Constance's shoulder.
I turn and see the Cheshire running in our direction. Constance clings to me again.
"I don't know what you guys got yourself into, but get in my car," Jack says. "Fast."
66
Jack drives like a madman through the streets of Ypres.
"Seriously, how is that old woman moving so fast?" Jack glances in the rearview mirror.
"We're safe now," I say, sitting next to him, Constance in the back seat. "Thank you.
"
"Yes, thank you, Jack," Constance says.
"Does that mean you're going out on a date with me?" he says.
"Not again," I sigh. "Why do you want to go on a date with me? I don't know you."
"Let's see. We've saved a girl together, fought a bunch of red-hooded monsters, and now escaped an old woman who thinks she is a cat. I've kissed girls before saying hello. You're practically my wife now. We even have kids." He winks at Constance in the back. She giggles.
"Okay," I sigh. "If you drive us safely back to Oxford."
"I will take you anywhere you want to go. Just ask, buttercup. So where and when? Are you free tonight?"
Suddenly, I am aware that I can't meet him at night, and tell him so. I don't tell him I am in an asylum, though. I don't think he'll like it. No one wants to date a girl with a Certificate of Insanity.
"So you have plans every night? What are you, a party animal?"
I laugh, thinking about my nightly "parties" with Waltraud and Ogier. "Let's just meet in daylight."
"So how is this going to be? The English way?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, who's going to pay? English way, we split the check. The American way, I pay the check. French way, probably you pay the check. Carrollian way, we eat mushrooms and drink tea in a house we break in to."
"Wow, I didn't know you were this cheap."
"I am not cheap. I am broke. I stole the gas to drive this car to see you."
"So, you admit you're stalking me."
"Well, yes. I am. I don't know what it is about you, but I can't stop thinking about you." He grips the steering wheel, still speeding up.
My phone buzzes. I look at it as if I have totally forgotten about it. I didn't have one until two days ago anyways.
"Stop the car," I demand. "I need to take this call." I don't want him to hear me talk to the Pillar in case I have to mention something about the asylum. If I am going on a date with Jack, I want it to be as if I am just a normal girl.
"If you say so, buttercup." Jack complies and parks next to a grocery store. I get out and walk a few steps away to pick up the Pillar's call.
"Where are you?" the Pillar says.
"On my way back to Oxford." I don't want him to know I am with Jack. He will keep telling me he is a distraction. "I have Constance. Are you all right?"
"I had to play woof woof with the activists for a while, but I am," he says. "I think from now on, there will be no more Kattenstoet Festival. I spattered a lot of cat blood on the wall. The whole tower is pretty much jinxed. But the Cheshire escaped."
"Yes, I know. He was just after us but we—"
Before I finish my sentence, Jack's car gets hit by a big yellow school bus. The phone flies in the air and smashes into pieces. I turn to look for Jack. He is drowning in his blood. My eyes shift to the back seat. Constance isn't there. When I raise my head, I see the Cheshire driving the school bus. He isn't wearing the mask and is still in his woman form. He has Constance pulled by her hair next to him. When I look for my umbrella to shoot him again, I discover that I am bleeding, too dizzy from the hit. I fall to the asphalt, spiraling down into my own personal darkness.
Part III
We're All Mad Everywhere
67
QUADRANGLE, CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD UNIVERSITY
When I wake up, I am sitting on a bank next to the fountain in the middle of the garden of Christ Church College. The snow is still covering most of the ground around me. I feel like my wound has been medically mended, and it's only been a couple of hours or so. The sun has winked out, and the twilight of the evening has passed. It's nighttime.
"It's been a long day," the Pillar says. He's sitting next to me on the bank on his can, like always.
"Why am I here?" I say. "Shouldn't I be back in the asylum by now?"
"I am surprised this is the first question you ask," the Pillar remarks. "I thought you'd ask about Constance."
"Why would I?" I am fighting the tears in my eyes. "I am a failure. And it's all because of you." I know I'm not being reasonable, laying all fault on him. "You keep believing that I am the Real Alice when I am just a mad girl in an asylum."
"Which makes me think," he says, unaffected by my blaming. "What's more important for you now: to know if you're the Real Alice, or to know who you really are and what you're capable of?"
"I'm fed up with your riddles," I say. "I'm fed up with the sane world. I want to go back to my cell, where I belong. It's easier to be insane than live with the guilt of giving up on Constance."
"You know what insane people are, Alice?" the Pillar says. "They are just sane people who know too much."
"I tried all I can. Whenever I think I've saved Constance, the Cheshire gets her back. I bet he has sucked her soul already and regained his powers." I am about to stand up. Listening to him has messed with my head.
"No, he hasn't." The Pillar waves the Cheshire's mask in his hand. "I stole the mask from him when I was in the clothes tower. He wants it back."
"He contacted you?"
"Yes. He wants to exchange Constance for the mask."
"But what use is the mask without Constance and the festival?" I ask.
"He has sucked Constance's soul already, and the ritual was technically a success," the Pillar explains. "It turns out that the other girls died when he sucked their souls because they weren't the one. Constance had, like, an extra soul for him inside. Whatever magic Lewis used, he made sure she'd still live if the Cheshire got his soul back. Sucking it didn't get her killed. He has no use for her now."
"So all he needs is the mask? What are we waiting for? Let's give him the mask and get Constance."
"It's not that easy, Alice. You must realize the danger he will bring into the world once he has restored his power. He will simply be unstoppable and will start opening the doors to the Wonderland Monsters. I wouldn't be surprised if he releases the Mad Hatter and the others soon."
"But Constance—"
"This is where it gets complicated," he says, still looking at the Tom Tower ahead. "You see, I could have just burned this mask and the Cheshire's grin with it, but I didn't. I wanted to give you a choice. I still believe you're the Real Alice and will trust your decision."
"You keep believing in me while no one else does," I sigh. "I wonder why."
"I'm mad enough to believe in you, that's all," the Pillar says. "The world is too sane. It could use a little madness."
"So either I let Constance die and save the world from the Wonderland Monsters, or I save Constance and doom the world," I say. "Who am I to make a decision like that?"
"I am sure your decision will be much better than the likes of Margaret Kent and all those politicians who suck away our lives like cats do to an infant. Every day, they make decisions that end up becoming tangles in wars. My hope is that you will make the right decision, though." The Pillar turns to face me. "I know someone who can help you decide."
"It's not your chauffeur, is it?"
"Of course not. He has the wisdom of rats, which means his answer to almost everything is 'cheese,'" the Pillar says. "You see the Tom Tower?" He nods at it. "I killed someone in it in the past. I messed with his mind and made him jump off it."
"I'm not in the mood to listen to your—"
"The Tom Tower has the answer, Alice," he says. "Remember when I told you that its bell rings 101 times at 9 p.m., sometimes a few minutes later, Oxford time?"
"You told me more than once." I gaze up at the magnificent construction.
"It's five minutes to nine," the Pillar says. "It will ring five minutes from now. If you climb up, you will find a small door on the northern wall. It's hidden behind an armoire. Just move it, and you will find it."
"A door?"
"Remember that you have to be back before the 101 dongs, or you'll be lost behind it forever."
"What's behind the door?" I am already standing up, curious for anything that helps me decide. "A treasure?"
The Pillar leans back. "No. The doors in this university are much more precious than that. It's a door to one of your memories."
68
TOM TOWER, CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD UNIVERSITY
It doesn't take me long to find the door in Tom Tower. I kneel to open it. All I can think of is Alice in the books. Wouldn't it be cool if I had eaten something that would make me shrink, instead of crawling through on my knees?
There is an endless white light behind the door. It only disappears with the Tom Tower's first dong.
I walk farther and find myself in the same place on Tom Quad's roof, a hundred and fifty years ago. I am standing in a room. It looks like a studio. It's filled with all kinds of art, drawings, and photographs. It's nighttime. It's summertime. I come across one of the nineteenth-century cameras. There is also a big table full of photographs of young girls. They are old photographs, in black and white and sometimes in sepia. Most of them are of a girl who looks a lot like me.
I rummage through the photographs and find many other photos of other girls. Names and dates are scribbled on the backs. It's apparent there is a significant purpose for these photos. There are charts, maps, and writings annexed to them. I don't have time to read them all.
I come by Alice Constance Westmacott's photo. She looks almost like the Constance I know in real life. I flip the photo and read it:
