by E E Rawls
Thank goodness she wasn’t there to pick-up and scold him.
As he left the message, he fiddled with the buttoned cuff of his maroon sleeve. Some pizza stain lingered on it, but at least the color wasn’t much different from the jacket.
He spotted something dark peeking up from under the sleeve: something like ink marks.
Madnes dropped the receiver and pulled his sleeve back to discover an image inked in black on the inside of his wrist—the image of a numberless clock, both hands at where the 12 o’clock should be. He stared intently at it, a mix of feelings washing through him. As he watched, the long inky hand moved one tick from the 12 o’clock mark, and the gap in between flooded solid black.
“What is this?” He rubbed at the mark, scratched it with his thumb.
The clock image wouldn’t smear.
He tried water, scrubbing at it, but the ink remained unaffected.
“How did...?”
His arm quivered. The air about him grew heavy, and his breath quickened. ‘Don’t panic, don’t panic,’ he tried to tell himself. But a horrible gut feeling was writhing inside him.
This clock was counting down time.
His time.
Madnes hurried past the sink, past the counters and clutter. Harrey and Alice looked up in surprise. But he didn’t stop until he stumbled out of the workshop and the cool night air hit him. The air felt humid from a mass of gathering clouds overhead.
“Cheshire! You must be around here, somewhere. Come out. Now! Tell me what this is?” he called out to the dark empty street outside March’s Repairs. He waved his wrist up in the air.
Only silence met him, and a single dog barked in the distance.
“What...” he let his arm lower, eyeing the clock on his wrist through shaky vision, “...is this?”
An uncontrollable tremor rattled his body. He’d never felt so shaken in all his life.
“Am I...” His dry throat tried to swallow.
“...Dying?”
Chapter 8:
Rules Like Chains
CHESHIRE WATCHED FROM behind a cluster of hawthorn bushes, while Madnes’s shout rang through the still night. His furry ears drooped.
“This is the one thing I hate about this job...” he whispered to himself, furry gray forehead wrinkled. “But it is the necessary price that must be paid.”
TIME PASSED MADNES as if he were in a fog—as if someone else were moving his legs and waving goodbye to Harrey and Alice as they parted ways to head home. He vaguely heard Mom scolding him and trudged up the staircase, into his room, plopping onto the bed.
He curled up, trying not to look at the inked clock beneath his sleeve. Trying to shut his eyes, even though his racing pulse wouldn’t let him sleep. Trying not to think, even though his mind was running through a grim valley filled with images of death.
When the pale break of dawn finally came, it was small relief. He shoved all the grim worries inside a locked closet in his mind and got himself back into a normal state of being for school—or as normal as he could manage.
His pulse didn’t slow, but at least he made it through classes that day. He had to hold on until he found Cheshire—then he could let his emotions erupt. He had a bone to pick with that snazzy-dressed cat.
It wasn’t until the afternoon, when he wandered out to the Madness Solver mushroom office, that he at last laid eyes on the gray tabby.
Madnes marched over, shoved back his maroon jacket and white shirt sleeve, and held up the inked clock image, his height towering over the cat. “Explain,” he demanded of Cheshire.
Looking uneasy, Cheshire’s paws motioned for him to cool down. “Yes, I was going to get to that part—once it showed up.”
“And no sooner? It’s my life on the line. I have a right to know what’s happening!” He held the clock above the cat’s brow. “Auntie Rose died young, and she was the previous Madness Solver.” He had to pause to swallow, even though his throat was dry. “Is the same thing going to happen to me?” he asked.
Cheshire met his gaze for what felt like a long somber minute before he answered, carefully. “The Madness Solver power puts great strain on the body. And it...has certain rules.”
Madnes’s eyebrows lowered under a mountain of questions. But the first question he asked was, “Is there a time limit on my life?”
“The power thrives by feeding off the life of its host. Depending on how strong the life force of the host is, determines how long it will take before it’s all consumed. And it also depends on how frequently you draw large amounts of power to use. It all factors into how fast or slow the clock ticks,” the tabby explained, and he pretended to clear dust from his brown hat.
“And when the long hand reaches the 12 mark after going all the way around again?” Madnes asked and tried to hide the tremble in his voice.
When Cheshire hesitated to answer, he shook his head knowingly.
“It’s ticking down my life. This thing I wanted nothing to do with is slowly killing me. And I never had a say in it, did I?”
Cheshire’s frown deepened. “The Madness Solver must always exist...for the sake of Oswick and everyone in it. It is a price that must be paid.”
“And it must be paid with my life?” he exclaimed, rage trembling his fists.
“I won’t pretend you should be glad of this—nor not resent me for it—but you must accept it. Or else, you won’t be able to move on and fulfill your duty to this island and to Wonderland.”
“Why me?” he whispered through clenched teeth.
“The power has rules which even we in Wonderland do not understand,” Cheshire explained, hopping onto a table stool, and standing like a teacher, hat in one paw and gesturing with the other. He raised one claw.
“One: life force is the price paid for wielding the power.
Two: you cannot tell anyone about it draining your life. If someone figures it out, you must keep them silent.
Three: the host must be mostly human.
Four: the one chosen must have the right spirit for the job. A determined will that cannot be shaken, and a caring heart.”
He placed the hat back on his furry head. “Those are the qualifications for becoming the Madness Solver. And those qualities tend to run in your Hatter family.”
Madnes faced Cheshire squarely. “And you really believe I’m any of those things? Well, besides human, I mean.”
“You will be. If you shape yourself up and stop dwelling on self-pity.”
“Self-pity?” Madnes gawked. “Excuse me for being unhappy that some crazy cat came along and changed the world I live in and cut my lifespan in half.”
Madnes stormed out the glass office door and down the town’s sunbaked street, not waiting to hear anything more from Cheshire.
THE SEA SPLASHED MERRILY against a pebble beach, and a group of kids played in the waves, squealing with delight. Above the town and its wisps of chimney steam, an airship hummed slowly on its way past, followed by seagulls riding the air currents brought in from a faraway storm.
Madnes watched the scene. How long did he have? How long would it be until he could never see these tranquil shores again?
The thought struck Madnes that he would miss this. Boring as things were in Oswick, and as much as he had wanted to get away, the thought of leaving this life forever hurt.
He would miss the dusty crimson sunsets that colored the waves purple; the children in the playground who always found something to giggle about; the fireworks during Christmas; Mom’s silly laugh and her homemade soups; the lantern festival, folding and gluing together paper lanterns with Alice and Harrey, and the frilly dress that Alice would probably wear; Harrey’s grin as he showed off his next flawed invention; Madnes getting his driver license and one day his very own steam car; graduating, and having to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life; and Oz...fixing their severed bond.
Every cherry blossom spring, every heatstroke summer, every colorful and hot chocolate autumn, and
every snowy winter wrapped in hand-knitted scarves from loved ones...how much longer before it would all be taken away from him?
“I thought...” His fingers dug into his crossed arms as he gazed towards a future he once took for granted. “I thought I would have forever...” He chuckled, a dry sound that lacked any mirth, and his vision watered over. “What a spoiled brat I’ve been.”
It was too blurry to see the sea anymore, nor for a soul to see where he should go from here. The inked clock on his arm burned through the tears.
“I feel...lost.”
Chapter 9:
The Road Ahead
“WELL NOW, THAT’S AN honest confession, if I ever did hear one.”
Madnes shifted to eye the person who had interrupted his private moment: a rough, rugged man leaning on the railing causally beside him, duster coat rustled by the sea breeze.
“Uncle Cosmic. How did you know where to find me?” Madnes tried to wipe away any traces of tears with a sleeve.
Uncle shrugged his broad shoulders like it was obvious. “I ain’t a world-renowned bounty hunter for nothin’, boy. Besides, you were supposed t’ meet up with me and begin your trainin’.”
Madnes grumbled and looked away. What was the point of training, now? For what? It meant nothing if he was going to die by this blasted power anyway. He could have a few years or only months left to live, and then what would be the point?
“You don’t have t’ hide your fears behind a mask, Madnes.” Rough fingers clasped his shoulder and deep brown eyes held his gaze. “I know what’s goin’ on—same as what my sister went through. Though I didn’t find out about the power sappin’ away her life until it was too late...”
Madness swallowed so his voice wouldn’t tremble. “You know about that? Don’t let the cat find out—apparently there are rules that say nobody’s allowed to know.”
Cosmic chuckled at that.
“So, there’s no way out of this?” Madnes asked.
Cosmic thinned his lips and gave a single headshake. “Far as I know, no Madness Solver’s ever been able to outlive the power’s ticking clock. But hey, that don’t mean there’s no way t’ be found—”
Madnes threw up his hands, the urge to scream welling in his throat. “They died because they didn’t have enough time to find a solution—if one even exists! My chances are the same as theirs. How can I expect to end up any differently? Just...leave me alone to wallow in my misery.” He made as if to go, but the hand on his shoulder anchored him to the spot. He shot a glare at the bounty hunter.
“You don’t want t’ die, and that’s gatherin’ turmoil inside ya. I won’t blame you for that, lad. It ain’t somethin’ you asked for,” he said with his gruff voice. “But life don’t just end when we die, Madnes.”
“How would you know?” Madnes said bitterly, and chewed his cheek, using the pain to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling over. He pushed against the hand anchoring him.
“Tell me.” His uncle leaned back, elbows on the rail, though the grip of his hand did not ease. “When you put loads of effort into writin’ those short fictional stories of yours—creatin’ characters after your own heart—don’t you care about ‘em?”
Madnes gave a little nod, unsure where the man was going with this. How did he know about his secret writing hobby, anyway? Mom must’ve found out and spread gossip.
“A painter cares about his paintings, a sculptor his sculpting, a musician his music, and a writer his stories,” said Cosmic. “A creator cares about his work. So then, how much more do ya think our Creator cares about us—especially us being living, breathin’ creatures and not some stiff painting or words on a page?”
Madnes’s gaze wavered uncertainly.
“That’s why life don’t end when we die, lad. That’s why the Creator calls us back to His home, like a guardian calls his child. No matter what happens here in this life, we can be reunited there in His home in the end, if we believe in His Word. So, quit moppin’ about life.” He gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re still breathin’ right now. Use what you’ve got and get things done! You were chosen for a reason, and it’s time you figured out why. Maybe you’ll be the Madness Solver t’ change everything, eh?” He clapped him on the back.
Madnes wasn’t sure if he fully understood Cosmic’s words, or if he believed the Creator actually cared about him, but something about it made his mind stop sinking into the quicksand of despair he’d been feeling trapped in.
“C’mon, let me take ya out for some Italiano spaghetti.”
“Spaghetti?” Madnes blinked. “Food? At a time like this?”
The guy’s muscled hand slapped him on the back again, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Yer a growin’ lad! And it’ll make you feel better. Food soothes the soul as well as the stomach—every man who’s a man knows that!”
“...If you say so.”
“TWO ORDERS OF YER FINEST spaghetti carbonara and meatball-surprise, ma’m!” Cosmic ordered, before Madnes had a chance to peer at the menu—not that he would’ve ordered anything, anyway. He wasn’t in the mood for eating. Especially pasta. And something about “meatball surprise” felt unnerving.
The Italian restaurant was a quaint place with red-tile flooring and fish-catcher nets with lanterns for hanging lights. Their round, metal dining table had clock gears decorating the sides, and Madnes frowned at the reminder of time passing him by. But once the dishes arrived—spaghetti covered in cheese, sauce, veggies, and oddly shaped meatballs—the aroma did, for a moment, distract his mind.
Cosmic dug into the pasta the moment it touched the table. Madnes watched, then sighed and poked at the spaghetti with his fork before taking a bite. Yep, it was delicious. So was the meatball and its strange egg yolk surprise.
“See? Food’s good for a mopin’ soul!”
“I wasn’t moping,” he grumbled at a fork of cheesy mushrooms. He twisted the fork around and around, gathering noodles in a spiral. “I don’t know how long I have, but I don’t want it to be wasted away. I promised myself I would help Oz. Even if I fail at this Madness Solver job, keeping my promise to him is the one thing I can’t fail at—no matter what.”
A toothy grin creased Uncle’s face.
“What?”
Cosmic shook his head of rugged curls. “Nothin’. Heheh. Good to see you’ve got a goal t’ live for, now. It’s a wonder what a meal of fine Italian food can do for you.”
“It wasn’t the food,” Madnes protested. He sat back and exhaled. Truth was, the change of scenery and a reminder that he wasn’t alone—that there was more beyond this life—was washing away the gloom.
“All I know is I have to keep myself alive for everyone else’s sake. Question is, though, how?” he pondered
Cosmic finished slurping up noodles and dabbed a napkin at his lips. “’Tis a mystery, kiddo! Uncharted waters, as they say. But,” he held up a finger, “one thing is sure: Avoid using that power. And when you do have to use it, use it wisely.”
“I don’t want to use it, ever,” said Madnes. “But it’s like the power forces me to. I can feel it—like a part of my body, a hand or something—and I can’t help but use it. Just like I can’t help using my brain to fix problems.”
“Hmm...not much choice, then.” Cosmic pondered, thumb rubbing his stubble jaw. “But if we can build up your body and mind, n’ make ya more capable, maybe the power won’t feel like it has t’ always do stuff for you. That might buy ya some time—maybe enough t’ find a real solution.”
A weight of worry lifted from Madnes—a small weight, but once it left, he could feel the difference. And the world seemed a shade brighter.
Chapter 10:
Let’s Go to the Drop!
“LAST DAY OF SCHOOL, last day of school!” Harrey jumped up and down like an excited rabbit high on carrot juice. He wrapped an arm around Madnes and Alice each as they headed out the front doors for the last time that semester. “We passed our exams, our finals, and I managed not to get a D in
Algebra. We gotta celebrate!”
Alice tried to keep her growing grin at his enthusiasm subdued. Her eyelids, however, felt as heavy as lead after all that studying.
Madnes looked ready to drop and sleep on the street at any moment. Maybe a little celebrating would wake them all up from the many study all-nighters they’d pulled off.
“What do you suggest we do, Harrey?” she asked.
He pondered and blew back stray bangs from his eyes. “Aha, I know just the thing! Let’s go to The Drop.”
A part of Alice suddenly regretted asking him.
Madnes went wide-eyed. “The Drop, are you out of your mind? Only insane folk go there!”
“I’m pretty sure I’m still in my own mind.” Harrey felt about his scalp as if checking. Madnes rolled his eyes to the sky. “C’mon, Mady, I’ve been wanting to take you guys there for so long. It’s beautiful! Not to mention a paradise for thrill seekers!”
Madnes raised a hand to halt him. “That’s the thing: it’s for thrill seekers. I’m not a thrill seeker. I’m a happy-to-be-on-the-ground-in-my-tucked-away-cave seeker. And don’t ever call me Mady.”
“Boooo, that’s no fun at all.” Harrey made a face. “I’m gonna change that attitude of yours, Madnesy. We’re going to The Drop and having ourselves the experience of a lifetime!”
Alice had to muffle her laugh at the return expression Madnes gave. He was neither outgoing nor a risk taker, and The Drop required both. She poked his shoulder playfully. “Afraid of heights, are you?”
Madnes mock rubbed where she poked him. “Anything that’s dangerous should be feared; that’s just normal instinct. Nutjobs like Harrey are missing those instinct gears in their brains.”
She giggled. Despite his words, Madnes seemed in a better mood lately, for some unknown reason.
She sighed inwardly. He was handsome in a simple sort of way, if you could see past his cynical, introverted remarks. His eyes were a gentle violet, his lips were perfect arches, and he had a funny habit of chewing his thumb nail. She looked over; he was doing it right now.
