The Hatter's Wife

by Anna B. Madrise

  Tears welled up in their eyes.

  In the distance, I heard puppies whimper.

  I heaved a sigh, and it landed somewhere near the dead king piece’s body.

  My resolve was cracking.

  Although . . .

  On the bright side—and I do love the bright side—I was getting taller again, and I had inherited an assemblage of subjects that adored me, unlike those ungrateful spade cards from the heart castle.

  Maybe I could forgo my curmudgeon-like mindset. Just this once.

  “All right, fine, you can come along,” I relented.

  The assemblage let out a series of cheers.

  “All hail the Queen of Spades!”

  “All hail the Queen!”

  Together, my spade countrymen and I marched off the chessboard and back into the wilds.

  I hated to admit it, but I was growing fond of my newfound countrymen, though fonder still of being returned to my normal height as the last of Sugar’s potion wore off.

  As we marched on, we eventually came to a fork in the road.

  I held up my hand, motioning for my subjects to pause.

  It was a shiny fork—three-pronged, to be precise—with three signs pointing in three different directions that read: East, West, and North.

  “This is entirely unhelpful.” I kicked at the ground with the tip of my Wellie. “The Queen of Diamonds had made no mention of the road forking. Now how am I going to find Tippery?” I wasn’t expecting an answer.

  “Perhaps we can be of assistance?”

  “Assist you, we can!”

  A pair of odd-shaped little men appeared from behind each side of the fork.

  “You will address the Queen of Spades as ‘Your Majesty’!” One of my rooks came forward.

  “Our apologies! We didn’t know.”

  “No, we did not know. Apologize, we must.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, still perturbed over the fork in the middle of the road.

  “I am Twiddle-Da.” One of the odd-shaped men tapped his shirt where his name was embroidered on his collar.

  “And I am Twiddle-Do, Your Majesty,” the second replied, tugging on his own shirt’s collar where his name was stitched.

  Why did their names sound vaguely familiar? “You wouldn’t happen to be related to—”

  They never gave me a chance to finish.

  “Actually distant cousins, four times removed, on our mother’s side, Your Majesty,” they answered together.

  “Though, we never talk about our other cousins, Your Majesty.” Twiddle-Da was talking from the side of his mouth.

  I was never able to master talking from the side of my mouth.

  It was mildly impressive.

  “What brings you to the town of Fork, Your Majesty?” Twiddle-Do asked.

  “This fork is a town?” I was incredulous, and here I thought Topside was small.

  “Indeed, it is. Population of two, founded some time ago, in another age, et cetera, et cetera,” Twiddle-Do said as he waved his hand in the air.

  “Are you planning on becoming a resident, Your Majesty?” Twiddle-Da asked.

  “Oh no, absolutely not. No offense,” I added hurriedly just in case they were lying and other odd-shaped men were lurking in the brush.

  “No offense taken, Your Majesty,” Twiddle-Do said with much relief.

  “We were hoping you would say no; we quite like our town of two.” Twiddle-Da hooked both of his thumbs under a pair of purple suspenders. “Therefore, we take no offense to your offense if you are not offended by our offense, Your Majesty.”

  I held my hands out. “None taken, thank you for asking. Though, I am perplexed; what do you do in the town of Fork?”

  Twiddle-Do flicked his finger across one of the fork prongs, and it made a ringing noise. “You pick a direction, any direction at all, and we will tell you if it’s the correct way to go.”

  “But you can only ask us once, and only one directional question per traveler. Those are the rules.” Twiddle-Da began to count up, on his fingers, all of my subjects before giving up. “Since all of you came together, you only count as one, Your Majesty.”

  The spades began to object—loudly.

  I held my hand up to silence them.

  Immediately they complied.

  Ah, the power of a benevolent monarchy.

  “How will I know if you are telling the truth?” I had an idea and only one chance to get it right. Who knows where the wrong path would lead?

  I will tell you where the wrong path leads: somewhere you don’t want to be and nowhere you want to go. That’s where.

  “We will honestly answer yes or no.” Twiddle-Da positioned himself on the left side of the fork.

  “Or we will hum if we don’t know the answer at all.” Twiddle-Do took to the right side of his cousin.

  I rubbed my hands together—a sure sign that I knew what I was about to do.

  Sometimes, the sheer magnitude of my own intelligence scares even me.

  “If the Hatter does not live in the East, does he live in the West?”

  The Twiddle cousins peered around the fork at one another, deep in thought.

  Together they hummed.

  “Brilliant!” I clapped my hands together in celebration. “Then, we go north!”

  “Wait, how did you know that, Your Majesty?” Twiddle-Da asked. “Our answer implied that we didn’t know at all!”

  “He could live the in the East,” Twiddle-Do offered.

  “Then, you would have honestly answered no.” I could feel a smug smile creeping up.

  “But he also could live in the West.” Twiddle-Da scratched his head.

  “Then, by humming, you would have been lying, therefore, if he lived in the West, you would have had to answer yes.” The corners of my mouth were turning upward.

  “I’m not following, Your Majesty.” Twiddle-Do shook his head.

  “By humming, you both told me that neither east nor west was the correct direction—hence the Hatter lives in the North.” I smiled smugly at them.

  They shrugged together.

  “I’ve never quite understood our own rules,” Twiddle-Da admitted.

  “Maybe we should change them?” Twiddle-Do offered.

  “Town meeting!” Twiddle-Da hollered.

  I marched northward past the cousins, relieved that I did not need to indulge them with my presence at their town meeting for two.

  Fork wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience. After all, it was devoid of any tea, and any town devoid of tea is good enough for me.

  Perhaps someday I would be back.

  The North was very northerly and not unlike the northerly tippy-tip-tip of Topside, though a touch less bright and a tad less white.

  With my tinting shades, firmly upon my face, my spaded entourage and I marched on, up and over, and down and around the many snowy hills and mounds.

  There was no sign of the Hatter.

  No remnants of a tea party.

  There was nothing but white—or pink, depending on one’s perspective.

  I was about to give up all hope and turn around to find those Twiddle cousins to give them a piece of my mind.

  They certainly could have used it—a piece of my mind, that is—between the two of them, they didn’t have two thoughts to rub together.

  I know, I am getting off track.

  I am aware.

  There’s no need to raise your voice; I can hear you just fine.

  As I was saying, I was about to give up all hope when we came upon a cottage in the snow. It was an unassuming cottage with simple windows and a plain door.

  This cottage was not putting on any airs.

  There is nothing more exasperating than an over-assuming cottage.

  It’s extremely rude to drop in on someone unannounced.

  But I was past desperate.

  I had entered last-ditch territory.

  When one is wading through last-ditch territory, one becomes perilously c
lose to leaping over the cliff of do-or-die.

  I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. From what I am told, that do-or-die cliff has a very steep drop.

  As delicately as I could, I knocked on the door.

  Patiently I waited, like a lock.

  Good, you remembered.

  Though my luck wasn’t quite where I would have liked it to be, I decided to test it anyway.

  I knocked again, this time with more assertiveness.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!” a stern voice thundered out.

  The cottage door flung open. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s—”

  I believe the woman’s voice caught in her throat.

  One look at her and I knew why. We could have been sisters; the resemblance was uncanny.

  “I believe you were going to say that it’s impolite to drop in on someone unannounced.” Uncanny—we looked almost the same except that her dress was striped with clubs all over it and her hair was curlier than mine.

  My curls. Bleh! Maybe I shouldn’t have let the Queen of Diamonds live after all.

  “I was. I was going to say that.” She smiled a severe smile with the slightest touch of malice mixed in.

  I liked her instantly.

  “You must be the Queen of Spades”—she peeked around my shoulder—“and I see you brought your entire kingdom with you. Smart woman. Always travel prepared, I say.”

  “And you must be the Queen of Clubs, yes?”

  She smirked. “What gave it away?”

  “Snarky suits you.” I grinned.

  “I know,” she knowingly replied. “I can invite you in if you would like, but the rest of your spade congregation will have to stay outside. There’s simply no room for them.”

  I turned on my heel and motioned for my king piece to come forward. “Make camp!” I commanded.

  The king piece turned to my subjects, repeating my command, “The Queen of Spades has decreed: make camp!”

  In perfect unison, my kingdom of spades thrust their flags forward, and they popped up into spade-shaped tents.

  How efficient. But I would expect nothing less.

  Spades truly are the best suit of all of the cards.

  Behind me the Queen of Clubs sighed enviously. “How I do miss having subjects. Now that that’s taken care of, won’t you please come in?”

  “Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.”

  The inside of the cottage was black and white with a smattering of club décor throughout.

  I approved.

  A smattering was just enough, in my opinion. A smidgen would have been too little, and a spot would have been a touch too much.

  “What brings you to my humble abode? I would offer you tea, but I can’t abide by the taste.” The Queen of Clubs stuck her tongue out. “I haven’t drunk it in years.”

  “A woman after my own heart,” I chortled.

  She opened a club-shaped cabinet. “Jingle-juice, then?”

  “At this hour?” I was stunned.

  “Come now, live a little.” She poured two robust cups. “You could be dead in an hour—you never know in Wonderland.”

  “That’s oddly . . . not comforting.” I took the jingle-juice and sniffed it.

  The Queen of Clubs laughed. Come now, if I wanted to kill you”—she leveled her gaze at me—“trust me, you would already be dead.”

  “I would have liked to have seen you try.” I leveled my gaze right back at her.

  All things being relative, the magnitude of all of our leveling was quite uniform and plumb.

  It’s a tad disconcerting having a standoff with someone similar to yourself.

  Or a version of yourself.

  Or yourself if you looked different.

  But similar.

  You get my point.

  Or to be more exact, my level.

  “A toast, then”—the Queen of Clubs lifted her cup— “to this wretched, wicked place. May we find our way back to Topside.” She downed her juice.

  I politely took a sip of mine. “You are from Topside? I don’t remember you, and I would have remembered someone with such striking good looks, I am sure.”

  Well, it was true.

  “It was before your time.” She poured herself another drink. “I age well—something to look forward to.”

  “Indeed.” I raised my cup and said, “A toast to aging well.”

  “To aging well.” The Queen of Clubs downed her second cup.

  At the rate, she was drinking, I was going to be mopping up the floor with her, which would have been a shame since the floors appeared to be spit-spot clean.

  “Now, then, why are you here?” The Queen of Clubs arched an eyebrow at me.

  It was a fine arch. Such excellent arching structure.

  “I believe that I am lost. I am trying to find the Hatter—my husband—Tippery.” I polished off my jingle-juice.

  What the hell—I hadn’t tied one on in decades.

  My tie-making skills were in rough shape.

  “You’re Mad Maddie Milner?” The queen poured us another round of jingle-juice. “The Hatter’s wife? My gosh, I thought you were a myth. This is quite the stunt you are pulling off—queen-claiming the Queen of Spades. Well done.” She raised her third cup to me. “It’s no small thing to carry two titles. Your shoulders must be aching by now.”

  Absently, I rubbed my shoulders.

  Come to think of it, I was feeling rather tired.

  “How did you get stuck here?” Less focus on me, more on her. If she knew I was Maddie, then she knew where to find the Hatter, and that mattered the most.

  The queen slammed her cup down onto the table, and it cracked in two. “I lost in a game of chess to the Queen of Diamonds. She slaughtered all of my chessmen before she finally took me down. Though, I refused to go easy…impetuous bort. Instead of killing me, she decided to banish me to the northerly end of Wonderland.” The queen squinted out the window. “I despise snow.”

  It takes a lot for me to feel pity for another.

  But I was moved to tears by the queen’s story—the horror, the humiliation, the. . .

  I again leveled my gaze at the queen, which in turn caused her to arch both eyebrows. “I have a most suggestive scheme that may be to your fancy.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I had her full attention. “I need to find the Hatter. I can tell you know where he is, and I know that you know this is important to me.”

  She smiled another knowing smile.

  “But I would never assume that you wouldn’t want something in return for such important information.”

  “You have assessed correctly. What did you have in mind?” The queen leaned forward.

  “I have no need for a kingdom of spades. As much as the prospect is tempting, I desire to only find my true love. Since you are severely lacking in subjects of your own, you may have mine in exchange for the exact location of the Hatter.”

  I leaned in to her leaning in. “And I do mean his exact location.”

  We stared at each other for a long time, each assessing the other.

  “Agreed,” the queen finally said with finality. She leaned back in her chair. “The Hatter lives exactly twenty-five paces north of this cottage, past the last snowy mound. You’ll find a grove of trees with a path that leads right to the tea party. Be careful, though; time functions differently at the tea party, and I can make no guarantees that once you get there you will ever be able to get out again.”

  I patted my pocket where the gold pocket watch in the gold box was. “Never fear, I have a solution to that most disorderly order of time.”

  The Queen of Clubs nodded. “I have no doubt. After all, someone with your good looks and quick wit must always have a plan. You remind me of me.”

  “Shall we introduce you to your subjects, Your Majesty?” I rose to my full height, which was refreshing.

  “Lead on, Mrs. Maddie Milner.” She touched my sleeve, “though, I will always be remembered as the fi
rst Queen of Spades.”

  I was touched that she was touched, but we refrained from hugging.

  There was no need to get that sappy.

  We were the more severe of the suits, after all.

  I opened the door to the cottage, and the spade kingdom came out from underneath their spade tents and immediately stood at attention.

  Their actions tugged at my heartstrings.

  I was going to miss them after all.

  But, an accord is an accord.

  I had a husband to find.

  “Let it be known on this day that I am relinquishing my title as Queen of Spades to the Queen of Clubs, a most noble and righteous Queen of a most noble and noteworthy suit!”

  The Queen of Clubs strode forward with confidence.

  “Make way for the Queen!” the king piece called out.

  His adaptability was commendable.

  “All hail the Queen!”

  “All hail the Queen!”

  The Queen of Clubs held up both of her hands. “A change of suits is in order!” She snapped her fingers, and the spade tents promptly re-formed into club-shaped tents.

  “Your Majesty,” I addressed the queen, and this time I didn’t mind saying it, “it would please you to know that I sent the Queen of Diamonds to the Castle of Hearts. She has plans to claim the castle for her own.”

  “Does she, now?” The Queen of Clubs rubbed her cleft chin. “We will see about that. Break camp! We make for the Castle of Hearts!” she hollered out.

  “Break camp!”

  “Break camp!”

  At once, the newly formed club kingdom broke camp, moving into marching formation while waving black club flags.

  The queen mounted one of her knight pieces, and I got dizzy just thinking about her lopsided ride all the way to the castle. “May you find your true love, Maddie Milner. And if you don’t, the cottage is yours.” She snapped her fingers again, and the clubs on the cottage re-formed into spades.

  “Give her hell, Your Majesty, give her hell.” I waved them goodbye.

  The queen smiled maniacally. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Maddie.”

  Twenty-five paces north of the cottage.

  Past the last snowy mound.

  Down a path through a grove of trees.