by Rose, Lotus
“Well you need one to play.”
“How about a different card game? One I can play now?”
“Oh, no, I won’t waste all those rules just for you. You’ll just have to find a hat.”
And now they hear, coming through the walls on the right side of Alice, a bunch of yowling and hooting. They are coming, as they do every day at noon. They must have forgotten it’s her birthday too. To the card she explains, “It’s my surprise unhappy unbirthday party.”
“You don’t look very surprised.”
“Well the surprise part comes in the various ways they torment me during each party. They try something new every day.”
“Well why do you let them do that? Why, if it were me, I’d show them a thing or two.”
“Because I’m not really a mean person. They say I wouldn’t hurt a fly. They said that a month ago, when to prove it, they taped my wrists, covered me in glue and put a piece of raw meat on top of my head. You can imagine the result.” She shudders.
The card laughs. “Yes, very funny! So shall we play toss me in a hat?”
“No, I haven’t got a hat…but the Mad Hatter does. He’ll be one of my guests. But I must say, you’re a bit big for me to toss anyhow. You wouldn’t fit in his hat.”
“So I’ll shrink!”
And with that, the card leaps and shrinks in midair to the size of one of Alice’s hand-sized playing cards. It balances precariously on the edge of the desk for a second before she grabs it, gathers all the cards together, then slips the deck into a pocket of her black dress. Many dresses don’t have pockets, but hers does, and the pockets have the amazing ability to hold huge amounts without causing a bulge.
She slips the deck in as her first guest appears in her doorway, without having to open it, for the door has remained open this whole time.
CHAPTER TWO
Unhappy Unbirthday!
The first of them to walk in is Tweedledum, carrying the chocolate unbirthday cake—it’s always the same flavor—with always twelve candles that could not be blown out, though they always made her try, while they laughed. Tweedledum says, “Unhappy unbirthday.”
Tweedledee comes in next. He says, “Ditto.” He’s carrying a large rolled up piece of paper. Tweedledum and Tweedledee look like two chubby twin boys.
Humpty Dumpty enters next, as they all begin to sing. He has his razorblade he likes to cut Alice with. But thankfully he’s not carrying the tape. She hates when he brings the tape.
“Unhappy unbirthday to you!” they all sing.
The March Hare comes in next while they sing, carrying the Dormouse, who is sound asleep, in his arms. The Dormouse looks kind of like a mouse with a furry tail, and he always seems to be sleeping.
“Unhappy unbirthday to you!”
Next through the door is the Mad Hatter, carrying two custard pies—one in each hand.
“Unhappy unbirthday, pathetic Alice!”
Next comes the Three of Hearts. It’s his job to unchain Alice every day so she can go on her appointed rounds. He doesn’t follow her throughout the day though—she’s allowed to go on her rounds by herself, because everyone knows Alice is trustworthy to a fault.
Behind the guard, squeezing through the doorway, galumphs the Jabberwock, the only one of them not singing. He has to stoop so as not to hit the ceiling—either he’s somewhat too big for the room, or the room is somewhat too small. He’s holding his vorpal sword in one of his clawed hands. She’s heard that he guards one of the eighth squares where the Looking Glass House is located, and he only leaves to attend her parties every day.
“Unhappy unbirthday to you!”
The guard card uses his key to unlock her as Tweedledum sets the cake on the table. They never let her eat any of the cake. They always eat it themselves.
As Alice approaches the table, they all clap, except for the Jabberwock, who is standing apart at the end of the room. Watching. He always just watches. He’s never mean, like the others. She often feels sorry for him, because she suspects he’s forced to tag along due to peer pressure. And she suspects that, despite the rumors, he never stole the Queen of Heart’s tarts—he just seems too nice to do a thing like that.
Humpty says, “Blow out the candles, or I’ll cut you!” He slashes the blade through the air, almost striking the March Hare, who yelps. “Careful with that thing. You almost woke him,” he says, referring to the Dormouse.
“Well you shouldn’t stand in the way!” Humpty explains.
The Tweedle twins are now shouting, “Blow out the candles!” They snicker.
It is a tradition and expected of her, and she hates to disappoint. So she does what she does every single day and blows out the candles. There is a pause while the creatures watch, then the flames pop back up.
They all laugh at her.
Alice smiles and tries to appear gracious.
Tweedledee says, “Are you ready for your prize?” He unfurls a large paper cut-out replica of Alice. “Ta da!” He heads for one of the walls.
Alice announces, “However, today is not my unbirthday.”
Humpty Dumpty shakes his head gravely. “You shouldn’t start a sentence with ‘however’ unless you have a sentence stating something appropriate before, which would be the thing you’re howevering. It’s not grammatical. I should cut you.”
“Sorry,” Alice says, curtsying. “I mean to say, today is actually my birthday, so it’s the wrong day for this party.”
Various of the creatures say things, after gasping, such as:
“Is it true?”
“Whose fault is this?”
“How can it be?”
And, “How rude!”
“Inappropriate!”
“I’m very sorry,” says Alice, but “I’m sure tomorrow will be my unbirthday again. We could have a surprise party then!”
The Mad Hatter puts on a most pitiful face, it brings such guilt to Alice. Woefully, he says, “But I was going to smash these pies in your face.”
From the end of the room, Tweedledee says, “And we were going to play pin the tail on the Alice.” He had set the paper replica of Alice on the wall without her noticing. “And everywhere we pinned the tail, we would actually stick you with a pin.” He sighs. “It would have been so funny.”
Next to him, Tweedledum says, “Ditto” in a sad sad voice.
Alice says, “Do you have a blindfold?”
Tweedledum says, “Of course not! How would we be able to see where we stick the pins?” He crosses his arms.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
The March Hare says to Alice, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
The Dormouse lifts his head, says, “I’m sorry, but I was taking a nap.” He lowers his head again and closes his eyes.
Alice opens her mouth to speak, but the Mad Hatter interrupts her by saying, “Well, I suppose we should be leaving then! I take it you will be going on your usual rounds?”
Alice nods. “Yes, I expect so.”
They all turn to leave, all except the guard, who must stay to inform her of her duties for the day.
Alice suddenly remembers a custom that may help her get access to the Mad Hatter’s hat, though.
She shouts, “No, wait! My birthday wish! I’d like to ask it of you, Hatter.”
They all turn back around again. The Hatter looks quite put out—he is still holding the two pies in his hands—they look rather precariously balanced and heavy after being held for so long.
Alice says, “But I want to let you win at a game!”
She’s hoping the Hatter won’t start asking too many questions.
Thankfully, his eyebrow twerks up. “Oh? I enjoy winning games. What kind of game?”
“Toss the Card in the Hat. As I said, I’ll let you win and the winner, well, the winner gets to smash those pies in the loser’s face. Please play wif me?” She gives her best big doe-eyed pathetic expression.
A predatory grin comes across his face.
“Yes, that expression! Wear exactly that expression when I smash the pies in your face, won’t you?”
She nods with a cute pout.
But some of the others are grumbling.
Tweedledum says, “Hey, how about us?”
Tweedledee says, “Don’t we get to play?”
The Hatter shouts, “Silence! She’s the birthday girl, and it is her wish to play with just me, because I’m special, right?”
Alice says, “Yes. Just the Hatter.”
There is more groaning.
The Hatter says, “So what are the rules?” He sets the pies down. “Oh, my arms! I held those things this whole time!”
“Well, the rules are that the winner is the person who doesn’t toss the card in the hat after the other player does. Do you think you can win at such a game?”
The Hatter stands thinking for several long moments, his eyes rolled toward the ceiling. He seems to be mouthing many of the words of the rules she’d stated. “Ah, I believe I have devised a brilliant strategy to win this game! Let us begin.”
“Okay. I have a special card to play with. It has holes in it so it can fly through the air.”
The Dormouse shouts, “Aerodynamic!” then promptly goes back to sleep.
“That’s right,” Alice says. “Who goes first?”
“Ladies first, because I am a gentleman,” says the Hatter. He removes his top hat.
So Alice tries her best to toss the card into the hat. It barely misses.
The Hatter gives the card a meager fling then laughs. “I am the most clever hatter in Wonderland!” he proclaims. He is also the maddest. They say he’s gone mad from all the mercury and chemicals he uses to make his hats—all the noxious substances make beautiful hats, but are quite toxic.
It takes several tries, but finally Alice manages to toss the card in the hat. “Well, guess I lose!” she says, before lifting the card from the hat.
The Hatter puts his own hat on, with a tap on the top.
Alice looks down discreetly to see that the card is glowing. Should I take my heart out now? But how?
“I’ve a surprise!” she shouts. “Everyone close your eyes! Keep them closed!”
While everyone closes their eyes, she presses her hand into her chest, which is a strange thing to do, and pulls out her heart. It looks like a cartoonish heart, colored bright red. There is no blood or pain, but that seems perfectly normal in Wonderland. “Wait, wait! I’ve almost got it ready. Don’t open your eyes!” She quickly runs and puts the heart inside a wooden jewelry box. While she is doing so, she feels like Humpty Dumpty is peeking at her, but when she glances at him, his eyes are closed.
She goes back to stand by the table. In a panic she lifts the two pies and holds them toward the Mad Hatter. “Okay! Open your eyes! Ta da!”
The reactions are mixed. Some cheer and applaud, some boo and express disapproval. She admits, it’s not much of a surprise, but it’s the best she could think of.
What a bunch of decrepit characters, she thinks.
“Shall I pie you now?” says the Hatter.
Alice nods. Even though she doesn’t want to, she thinks it would be best not to arouse suspicion, so she puts on her doe-eyed pathetic expression and she stands still and willing as the Hatter smashes not one, but two pies in her face.
Everyone laughs but her.
I wonder how the bastard would like a pie smashed in his face?
As she’s wiping the custard from her face, the Hatter informs her that he has more pies waiting to use on her when next she visits him at the tea table.
They all begin leaving, except for the card guard. Alice waves. She doesn’t say goodbye, because many of them expect her to visit them sometime during the day. The Tweedle twins wish her an “Unhappy birthday,” which makes her want to strangle them, but she just grins and bears it.
Finally it is just her and the guard card in the room. It’s the same card guard card as usual. He stays after each party to provide her list of scheduled duties, and he is a total idiot. She thinks it’s maybe because he’s only the number three, or maybe it’s because he’s so flat, and not much brain matter can be fit in such a flat surface. He has been the source of much of her sorrow, and she wants to get revenge.
The cake is still there, flickering with its candles, forgotten.
“Guard card,” she says, cooingly. “It’s my birthday, so I’d like you to do the customary thing and blow my candles out.” She feels a thrill go through her. Never before has she been able to engage in the level of deception she intends in the next few moments.
“What? Why would I blow the candles out? It’s your unhappy unbirthday!”
“Idiot! It’s my birthday. Haven’t you been paying attention? The rules are the opposite today. I don’t blow the candles out, you do.”
“I do? The Queen didn’t mention anything about that. Besides, the candles are blowproof—they can’t be blown out.”
“Wow, how dumb are you? Must the Queen tell you everything? Everything is the opposite today. The candles are the opposite of unblowable, because it’s my birthday, not my unbirthday. Wow, just how dumb are you?” Alice had never been so deceptive before. It’s a good skill to have, she thinks.
The card says, “But I just saw you try to blow them out a while ago. They went out and came back again.”
“Moron! That was a few moments ago! And that was me, not you. The candles can only be blown out by you, not me, because this is my birthday, and not my unbirthday! How dumb are you?” She hopes she is being sufficiently confusing. She fights the urge to chuckle.
She watches the card ponder what she said, or at least try to. He nods. “Okay.” He leans down and blows the candles out. He grins at her.
The candles spring back into flame.
Alice shouts, “Idiot! You have to lean closer!”
“Closer? But—”
“Closer! Moron! Imbecile! Buffoon! Do it!”
The card leans closer than before, blows the candles out. He grins at her.
The candles burst back into flame.
“Closer closer closer! Do you not know the meaning of the word? Don’t make me tell you again!”
This time the card leans very close indeed, but before he even has the chance to blow, he catches fire, and begins flailing about while screaming, but the flails only make the flames grow higher.
Alice merely watches while laughing and pointing at him.
The card now lies as an ashy burnt smoking remnant of the card, now quite dead.
She digs the keys to her chains from the ashes then slips the chains and keys in her pocket.
When she goes to the jewelry box, she finds that her heart is missing.
Someone has stolen it!
Her thoughts turn dark, filled with ideas of revenge.
No one steals something from me, unpunished! I’ll find out who did it, and I will make their life, or death, pure hell!
And first on her list of suspects is Humpty Dumpty. Her mind fills with the delicious fantasy of chaining Humpty Dumpty and torturing him to punish him for stealing her heart.
CHAPTER THREE
The Cheshire Cat
Tra la la la la la la.
She hops and skips wickedly.
Things are definitely different with me.
Why, just yesterday, my black dress symbolized my brooding melancholy and now it shows my malevolence and duplicity.
She’s smugly satisfied with the words she had chosen—they were quite impressive in their number of syllables.
They show how much smarter I am than the average girl.
She stops when she hears the familiar purr in her right ear.
The Cheshire Cat.
“Kill yourself,” he whispers, as usual. He swoops out to face her, floating in front of her.
He’s a floating, grinning cat head with no body.
Alice tries her best not to glare him down evilly. She puts on the meek face she usually greets him with.
; The Cheshire Cat says, “You’ve thought of my offer, I can tell.”
Yes, his offer. His offer is this: he will provide her with a pistol, if only she agrees to shoot herself in the head with it.
She never accepted though and the cat knows if she ever did accept she would follow through, for all the creatures of Wonderland know she is incapable of lying.
That is, I was until today.
The pistol pops into view, floating, glowing in the air next to the cat’s head. It is a single shot, flintlock pistol, with an ivory handle and a single lead ball bullet inside—a dueling pistol. “Why not take it?” he says.
She ignores his offer, offers instead, “I’m searching for something that was just stolen from me. Have you heard anything about it?”
“No, I’ve heard nothing. What was stolen?”
It’s best for others to still think she’s sweet and caring she thinks, so she says, “I don’t want to say exactly what. I just want to know if you know anything about it? Do you know who might have it?”
He just grins that stupid grin. “You’re teasing me. But I forgive you because you’re so pretty.”
Her shoulders slump. “Thank you.”
“Awww. If I help you get this thing back, will you kill yourself as my reward?”
“Yes.” She nods and nods eagerly. She’d never really lied before today. It feels somehow thrilling. Had she been missing this feeling all her life?
“Such a pretty girl, so pretty on the inside too. I would love to see your brains.”
“Thank you.” She decides to lie even more. “I tell you what, if you let me have the pistol, I promise I’ll shoot myself very soon if I can’t find the object I’m looking for. But if I do get the object back, I’ll be so happy that I’ll kill myself so I can die happy. So can I have the gun, pleeeeaaase?”
The cat looks at her suspiciously. “Well…why do you need it? I’ll just give it to you when the time comes.”
“Awwww Mister Puss Puss. Don’t you trust me?”
Everyone trusts Alice, or the old one with her heart intact.
“Well, everyone knows you can’t lie. It’s a weakness of yours. As long as you promise me…”
