“You’re the intruder!” the pigeon yells. “You’re a snake!”
“Snake?” I repeat. “Why do you think we’re snakes?”
“Probably because of our freakishly long necks,” Robin says. “Ha! We’re not snakes!”
“Then what are you?” the pigeon asks suspiciously.
“We’re girls,” Penny says.
The pigeon tsks, fluttering her wings. “I don’t believe it. I’ve never seen girls that look like you. If you’re girls, then where are your arms and legs? Huh? Huh? You’re all slithery! You’re snakes! You better get out of my nest, you nasty, nasty snakes.”
“We are NOT snakes!” I yell as the pigeon aims its beak at my chin. “Stop it!”
“I’m going to get backup,” the pigeon says. “Don’t you dare go after my eggs. Don’t you dare!”
“Terrific,” I whine. “Now we have angry birds after us, too.”
“I love Angry Birds,” Robin says. “Not real ones. Just the game. I wish I could take a picture.” I think I feel her hand bump into my hand down below. “Ugh. I can’t reach my cell phone.”
“Why did you want us to come up here again?” I ask Penny, frustrated. My cheek still hurts from the pigeon’s poke.
“I thought you’d want to see.”
“I can barely see! The bird tried to attack my eyes!”
“Well, if you could see, you’d see all of Wonderland,” Penny says. “And possibly Frankie.”
“Oh.” I push my head up a bit and take it all in. “Wow.”
Wonderland is spread out before us. To the right, I see the garden. There’s the croquet lawn and the rosebushes and the massive red castle. Straight ahead are rows and rows of houses, all identical and pale pink. To the left are trees with different-colored leaves. All around us are silvery mountains. The strange thing is everything is shimmery. Like it’s underwater. Except it’s not.
“Too bad we can’t see Frankie anywhere,” I say, frowning.
Robin is staring at one of the pale pink houses. “Wait. Look in that backyard! I think there are people there. Not card-people but real people. Can you see, can you see? Is Frankie there? Or maybe Alice?”
I squint in that direction. “I can’t see that far.”
“I have perfect vision,” Penny announces, looking over. “And I think it IS Frankie. At least, it’s a girl with long dark hair and red glasses.”
What? Yes! We found Frankie! Finally! “Is she okay?” I ask Penny frantically. “Does she look freaked out? Is she by herself? Is she hiding somewhere?” I demand.
Penny squints a bit more. “I can’t exactly see facial expressions. But she’s sitting with other people around a table. The person beside her is” — she squints again — “wearing a big hat?”
“The Mad Hatter!” Robin cries. “Oh, wow, we’re going to meet the Mad Hatter! It’s the tea party. The Mad Hatter hosts the tea party at his house.”
“And there might a rabbit there, too?” Penny goes on, still squinting.
“Is it the rabbit from before?” I ask, annoyed. “The rabbit who told us to eat the pies? I have a bone to pick with him. He better not be trying to pull some trick on Frankie.”
“I can’t tell if he’s the same rabbit,” Penny says.
“I thought you had perfect vision,” I say.
“It’s better than yours,” she retorts.
Whatever.
“I’ve never seen the trees from this angle,” Penny continues, looking around. “They’re beautiful. I can’t wait to paint this when we get home.”
Oh.
“Wait, Penny,” I say seriously. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”
She twists her very long neck around to face me. “Why not?”
“Because. We’re not supposed to.”
She frowns. “Huh? Who says? What are you even talking about?”
I take a deep breath. Should I tell her and Robin? EVERYTHING? About the magic mirror in my basement that sends me into fairy tales? About the fairy named Maryrose trapped in the mirror? About the piece of mirror that’s — hopefully — still in my hoodie pocket? I reach my hand over to feel it. Yup. Still there. Phew.
I need Robin and Penny to understand how important it is to keep our adventure a secret. I take another breath. “Look, I’ve done this before, okay?” I blurt out. “Well, not this exactly, but I go into fairy tales.”
“What?” Penny asks, eyes wide. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t believe it,” Penny says.
“Believe what you want,” I say, crossing my arms. Not that they can see me cross my arms, since my arms are miles below us. But they’re crossed.
Robin is staring at me. She opens her mouth and closes it again and then opens it again, looking a bit like a fish. “YOU GET TO DO THIS ALL THE TIME?”
I laugh. “Not all the time,” I say. “But pretty often. Like every few weeks at least.”
“Abby! I can’t believe you never told me. You are the luckiest person in the entire world.” Robin’s head bobs up and down like she’s jumping. “Do you always fall into holes?”
“No. I … I … I …” I take a third deep breath. “I have a fairy trapped in my basement mirror. Her name is Maryrose.”
Penny snorts.
“I’m serious. I’ve been going into fairy tales to try and help un-curse her. And I’m the only one who can save her. Well, me and my brother.”
Robin’s face breaks into a huge grin. “Amazing!” she exclaims.
“That can’t be true,” Penny says.
“It is,” I say.
Robin’s eyes light up. “Can I come into the mirror with you?”
I smile. “You did.”
Robin’s jaw drops and nearly takes off a branch. “I did? NO WAY!”
“Yes! When you slept over.” It feels kind of awesome being able to tell her this. “You sleepwalked downstairs and into the mirror. We went into Sleeping Beauty. You climbed up the tower, pricked your finger, and fell asleep. When we got back home, you thought the whole thing was a dream.”
“I remember that dream!” she says. “It was balloons!”
I laugh. “Are you using that as a word now?”
“I totally am,” she says. “So can I go through the mirror with you again?”
“If we ever get home, I’ll ask Maryrose,” I say. “But you both have to promise not to tell anyone what you saw here. Okay?” I give Penny and Robin serious looks. “Because if people find out, I might not be able to help Maryrose, and then … well, she’s trapped. Have you ever been trapped?”
“I’m trapped right now,” Penny grumbles.
“Right. So you get it. So don’t tell anyone. Please.”
“We’ll see,” Penny says, which doesn’t make me feel better.
“Can we tell Frankie?” Robin asks.
“When we find her,” I start to say, but then —
“Ahhhh!” Penny shrieks.
A flock of angry orange birds, and not the game kind, has landed on the branch right across from our heads. The pigeons’ eyes are small and beady. They are coming right toward us. We need to get our necks out of here, pronto.
Down below, I move my hand around and feel it brush the mushroom cap.
“Guys, I think I can reach the left side of the mushroom,” I say. “The one that is supposed to make us smaller.”
“But your hand is way down there!” Penny says, looking below us where the rest of our bodies are. We can barely see them through the trees.
“I know what you should do,” Robin says quickly. “Grab the left side of the mushroom and rip it into three pieces and toss the pieces up. We’ll catch it in our mouths like Steven does at lunch with pinto beans.”
“Who’s Steven?” Penny asks.
“He’s in our class,” I say. “Black hair? Green braces?”
Penny looks at me blankly. “I can’t be expected to remember everyone I meet.”
I roll my eyes. The
n I use my hand and manage to rip the piece of mushroom into three. Here goes nothing. I toss all the pieces up.
Our necks are so long and twisty that we can swoop really fast to catch the pieces in our mouths.
Wahoo! We did it! All three of us!
“OW!” I cry as my neck starts shortening so fast that it scrapes against a branch on the way down.
Smaller, smaller, smaller, done.
Finally, my neck is the size it used to be. I turn to Robin and Penny. They’re also back to normal. Well, card-sized normal, but at least our necks are even.
Even, Steven.
We say good-bye to the caterpillar and walk toward the pale pink houses, where Penny saw the tea party happening. I hope Frankie is still there by the time we arrive.
“All these houses look alike,” I say. “How can we tell which one is the Mad Hatter’s?”
“It was three rows back and seven to the side,” Penny says. “I counted.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised and impressed. “That’s helpful.”
“I wonder why we haven’t met Alice yet,” Robin says. “Isn’t this her story? Where is she?”
I shrug. I’m wondering about that, too.
“Here we are,” Penny says when we reach the seventh house in the third row. The house, like all the others, is small and pink and only one level. We can hear sounds of a party coming from the backyard.
“We made it!” I say. “The Mad Hatter’s tea party. If Frankie’s here, let’s be sure to drink the tea right away. I bet that’s the magic swallow that will take us home.”
“That would be perfect,” Penny says. “They’ll probably be serving scones and tea sandwiches, too. That’s pretty normal for tea parties.”
“I love tea sandwiches,” Robin says. “Especially little egg salad ones with the crusts cut off.”
“Don’t forget about the profiteroles,” Penny says.
I don’t know what those are and I’m not asking. But tea sandwiches sound good. So do scones. I haven’t eaten anything normal since we got to Wonderland. Besides the tomato tarts. And those don’t count, since they got us into trouble.
Penny, Robin, and I walk around to the back of the house and peer over the fence into the backyard. A big tree is blocking our view, but I can see a table covered with a bright purple polka-dot tablecloth. A short man in a tall hat is sitting on one of the chairs. He’s wearing a long jacket, black pants, and a polka-dot bow tie that matches the tablecloth.
“Is that the Mad Hatter?” I ask.
“Yep,” Robin says excitedly.
“Guys,” I ask hesitantly. “Do you think we need to be careful? If he’s angry?”
Penny snort-laughs. “He’s not angry. He’s mad.”
“As in bonkers,” Robin says.
My cheeks burn. “Oh. Right. I knew that.”
“Do you know why he’s bonkers?” Penny asks. “It’s because in the old days, people who made hats went crazy because of all the fumes and chemicals they ingested.”
“Really?” asks Robin. “I didn’t know that!”
“Well, I do,” says Penny. “I know a lot of stuff. I know you guys think I’m dumb, but I’m not.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb,” Robin says.
“Not you,” Penny says, lifting her chin. “Abby.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb,” I say, my cheeks now on fire. “I’m the one who just sounded dumb, confusing mad with angry.”
Penny shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.”
“I …” I don’t think Penny is dumb. I really don’t. I hate that anyone — even Penny — feels like I do. “You just found this house. That was impressive.”
“Thanks,” Penny says grudgingly.
I look back at the table. Sitting beside the Hatter is a fully dressed rabbit, also in a suit and a bow tie. For a second, I wonder if it is the same rabbit who lied to us earlier, but this rabbit is gray instead of white. And on the table, beside the rabbit, is a little brown mouse, who is fast asleep and snoring. Loudly.
“SNORT. SNNOOOOOOORT. SNNOOOOOOOOOORT.”
In the middle of the table is a teapot. But I don’t see Frankie. Does that mean she’s not here?
But then I hear a girl say: “These cookies are delicious.”
The girl’s voice sounds like Frankie.
Frankie’s voice!
IT’S FRANKIE!
Yes, yes, yes! She’s really here! We found Frankie!
“Frankie!” I holler from behind the fence. I can’t control myself. I’m so happy we found her!
“Abby?” we hear Frankie call. “Is that you?”
“Yes!”
“Where are you?”
“Behind the fence! Behind the part hidden by the tree! I’m with Robin and Penny!”
“My friends are here,” we hear Frankie say to the rest of the tea party. “Hurrah!”
In a second, Frankie has dashed over to the fence. She’s smiling and looks like her regular Frankie self. Except she’s just as tiny as we are.
“It’s so good to see you guys!” she cries.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Penny snaps.
“You have?” Frankie says, straightening her glasses on her nose.
“Yes,” I say. “And we are so happy we found you! Are you okay? Are you totally freaked out?”
“Hi, Frankie!” Robin chirps. “Isn’t this fab? Isn’t this balloons?”
Frankie looks at her quizzically. “It is fab,” she says. “We’re in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland!”
“We know!” Robin says. “Let me take a picture of all of us back together! Oh. Hmm.” She pats her pockets. “My phone is gone. Oh, no! It must have fallen out when we ate the mushrooms!”
“That’s too bad,” I say. But it isn’t really. This way she won’t have any proof of where we were when we get back.
“So wait, what happened after you fell down the hole?” I ask Frankie. “Did you panic?”
“Panic? No! Why would I panic?” Frankie smiles. “As soon as I saw the floating furniture, I thought of Alice. By the time I saw the ‘Drink Me’ sign, I knew I had fallen down the rabbit hole. Do you know how many times I’ve read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass? At least fifteen. Maybe more. This is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.”
“I know, right?!” Robin cries.
Wow. Frankie is braver than I thought.
“You read the same book fifteen times?” Penny asks, incredulous. “But why?”
I won’t admit it, but I kind of see her point. Seems like overkill.
“Are you kidding?” Frankie asks. “Every time I read it, I learn something new. There are so many layers! My dad has read the book even more times than I have! And he says that he understood it in a totally new way when he was in college than when he was a kid, and then again after he had his own kids. He says he gets something different out of it every single time he reads it. And that it even teaches him things about himself.”
Really? I don’t know about that. A book is a book is a book. But still. Hurrah! We now have someone with us who actually knows the story. What a relief. “What’s Through the Looking Glass?” I ask.
“The sequel,” Frankie says. “I love that book, too. I can’t believe we’re here. Of course I wondered if I was dreaming, but it seemed so real. And then I pinched myself to make sure —”
“We did that, too,” Penny says.
“I still think that’s bogus,” I murmur. “But anyway. Go on.”
“And I realized I was awake,” Frankie says. “So then I drank the potion and shrank down, and went into the garden to explore. I was looking for Alice, but I don’t think she’s here yet.”
“We must have just missed you,” I say.
“How long have we been here, anyway?” Frankie asks.
“At least a few hours,” I say.
“My nanny must be freaking out,” Penny says. “We have to figure out what will take us home. My pare
nts will fire her if they find out she lost us, and I can’t deal with training someone new. Again.”
Frankie nods. “Oh, right. I’ve been so focused on exploring, I haven’t been thinking about how to get out of here.”
“Well,” I say, “we met the Cheshire Cat and —”
“You did?” Frankie squeals. “I’ve been looking for him!”
“Yup. And he told us that the right swallow would take us home.”
She furrows her brow. “The right swallow? You mean something we have to eat?”
“We think so. Or drink.”
She turns back toward the tea party. “It could be the tea.”
“But you’re still here and you drank some, right?” Penny asks.
“Not yet.” Frankie sighs. “I’ve been trying.”
“What’s the holdup?” I ask.
“You’ll see. It’s not exactly a normal tea party.”
“Nothing in Wonderland is normal,” Penny grumbles.
“This story is kind of bonkers,” I say.
“Of course it’s bonkers,” Frankie says. “That’s what makes it so amazing. Just wait until you meet the Hatter, the March Hare, and the Dormouse. They’re definitely bonkers.”
“All the best people are,” we hear the Mad Hatter say.
Frankie pulls opens a gate in the fence I hadn’t noticed and says, “You should come in.”
Why do I never notice gates in fences? You’d think someone would build them to be more obvious.
We follow her into the backyard.
“Is it okay if my friends join us for tea?” Frankie asks the group.
“I’m afraid we don’t have room for them,” the Mad Hatter says sadly, shaking his head. His hat veers from side to side. He’s shorter than us, but his hat makes him look taller.
Penny narrows her eyes and motions to the many empty seats at the table. “Um. There are like six unused seats.”
“Yes, but what if the Dormouse wakes up and wants to sit there?” the Mad Hatter asks, patting the empty seat beside him. “Or there.” He gestures to the empty seat next to the empty seat. “Or there or there or there or there! Wait, did I say there?” He points with both hands at the first chair.
Abby in Wonderland (Special Edition) Page 6
