Lorina slumps to the floor, as I feel the anger surface in me. I swing the pan one last time, but my hands freeze midway.
It’s not the terrified look on Lorina’s face that stops me. It’s the fact that she is my sister. Whatever I do to play bad or evil, I seem to soften to the thought of family. The idea of someone being there for me. That I am not alone in this world. I don’t want to lose my family, even if I hardly feel for them. Even if they want to get rid of me.
“You’re lucky I’m still hoping we can work this out as two sisters.” I pant when I say the words. My right hand argues that I should just hit her face and get done with it. I hate my right hand, and oppose it.
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” Lorina nods. “We’re sisters. We should work this out. I actually like you more than Edith.”
Lorina’s lie is so sweet I want to believe her. My hunger for belonging to a family urges me to put the pan aside, and I lend her a hand. “I’m glad you think that, too,” I say, as she takes it. “Whatever you and Edith have done to me before, don’t hesitate to tell me. I promise I will hold no grudges. Let’s start all over again. All I want is to know the truth. To know who I am.”
Lorina nods, getting to her feet. “I’m so sorry.” She begins to trickle tears.
“Don’t be.” I am about to cry as well, realizing I have no memories of crying on someone’s shoulder. “I really need this.” I find myself opening my arms wide, longing for Lorina’s hug.
But then Lorina’s eyes gleam with someone’s reflection behind me. I look closer, and I glimpse a silhouette of what looks like Edith about to stab me with her knife again. When I raise my head to Lorina’s eyes, I understand how naive I am. She grins at me as Edith stabs me.
I was a fool again.
“You’re in a lot of trouble. You know that, right?” Dr. Truckle said to the flamingo.
The flamingo said nothing, and hardly acknowledged the doctor’s presence, its long neck swirling over its body.
“What’s wrong with getting your head bumped into a ball?” Dr. Truckle asked him. “Wouldn’t you do that in the name of Britain?”
The flamingo’s head dipped lower. It looked ashamed to the doctor.
“Should I assume you’re an immigrant?” Dr. Truckle rubbed his chin. “Do you even have papers?”
Surprisingly, the flamingo shook its head.
“So you understand me?” Dr. Truckle approached the cage. “Look, we’re both in the mud here, fella,” he whispered. “You don’t let the Queen bang your small, beautiful head into a ball, I get fired. But if you do, I keep my job. You see, in both cases, no one really cares about you.”
The flamingo padded away from the doctor, who suddenly realized the absurdity of the situation—let alone talking to an animal. “So what am I going to do now?”
Tom stared at the invitation in his hand, and wondered what was going on. A thought occurred to him: what if he managed to use the invitation to sneak into the Event?
He was really curious about it.
He flipped the invitation, only to realize a list of the rest of guests had been written on the back.
Now Tom was really going to lose it.
I turn around. It’s the Pillar, choking Edith with his hookah.
“Such a fantabulous family you have, Alice,” he says, pulling the hose tighter around Edith. He doesn’t wait for my reaction, as he pulls Edith’s knife and hurls it over my shoulder toward Lorina. “No more games, Barbie doll, or I choke your sis to death.”
I turn and see Lorina has ducked the knife. She straightens up again. “You?” She frowns.
At first I think she is talking to me. Then I think there is a third party in the room—my mother, maybe? But then I realize it’s the Pillar Lorina is talking to.
“You know each other?” I ask, not knowing what to make of it.
But then the Hatter’s phone buzzes in my pocket. Another message:
“You didn’t answer me,” I say. “How do you know my sisters?”
But none of them answer me. I see the Pillar staring right into Lorina’s eyes. It’s that piercing look he is capable of. Lorina stares back in silence. Somewhere between those two lies another greater secret I don’t know of.
“I saw them visiting you week after week,” the Pillar replies.
I am not convinced. But Lorina doesn’t object or comment. She looks scared of the Pillar.
“Let’s get out of this circus.” The Pillar picks up my umbrella from the floor.
Dazzled, I comply and walk out with him. If I don’t, Lorina might try to kill me again—whatever the reason is. I will deal with my sisters later.
“Alice!” Lorina says from behind. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Her voice is concerned, but not about me. Something else bothers her. “This man you’re walking with is using you. Stay away from him.”
“Coming from my sister who just tried to kill me?” I say, fighting the tears, and not looking back.
Lorina doesn’t comment. And I can’t wait to walk out of the house where I was supposedly raised. All I know is that nothing has really changed since the last time I was outside my cell. The world is still mad. Nothing makes sense. And the only thing that keeps me going again is wanting to stop this bomb at all costs.
Half an hour later, the Pillar arrives at our table with a tray of food and tea. We’re sitting at George and Danver Ice Cream Cafe on the same street that leads to Oxford University, a small walk from the famous Alice’s Shop. The sun in the sky is feebly battling through the foggy day. I wish it would make it through, as I am unable to take the dimness of this mind-boggling and emotional day anymore.
“Best carrot ice cream cake in Oxfordshire,” the Pillar says, pushing the tray my way. “And also the best tea in England.” He sits in his chair and winks at me. I watch him sip with ecstasy from his cup. “Almost as good as the Hatter’s tea in Wonderland.” He knows that the mention of the Hatter gets on my nerves.
I fiddle with the fork, trying to persuade myself I have an appetite for the deliciously orange cake on the tray. The truth is I hadn’t felt like eating or drinking anything since I met my sisters today. They tried to kill me? Seriously? Why was it so important to them I return to the asylum?
The Pillar slides the Hatter’s phone back to me. Earlier, I asked him to try and trace the Hatter’s number.
“I couldn’t locate him,” the Pillar explains. “The number is untraceable. Well, not quite untraceable, because it seems like it belongs to a chain of secret phone numbers.”
“Secret numbers?”
“The kind only given to people who work closely with the Queen of England in Buckingham Palace.”
“So the Queen is playing these games with us?”
“Whoever is playing games is playing with
“I won’t. But doesn’t this mean the Hatter is working for the Queen?” I feel tempted to taste the cake but still can’t bring myself to. My mouth is bitter from the taste of my little bloody meeting with my family.
“Not sure, Alice. I’m still working on it. As long as I don’t understand the Hatter’s motives, there is very little help I can offer.”
“Which isn’t like you.” I eye him closely. Should I bring up the subject of why everyone keeps warning me of him? Or have I become so attached to my little adventures in the world outside the asylum that I won’t even risk the fact that the Pillar isn’t totally on my side? “I mean, how do you really know my sister?”
“I told you. I saw them visiting you.”
“Then why did she warn me of you?” I lean forward. Daring him.
“Everyone’s been warning you of me, including Fabiola.” The Pillar licks the cake’s syrup from his fingers. “And she’s supposed to be the word of God or something.”
In truth, I can’t argue with that. If anyone’s the closest to sanity, it’s Fabiola. But she hasn’t been as helpful as the Pillar so far. Lewis also warned me not to give the golden key to anyone, and the Pillar seems interested in it. It’s all confusing and messed up. From another angle, the Pillar saved my life before Edith killed me. He’s done that several times before. I decide I’ll drop this subject for now.
“So tell me about the Hatter.” I need to focus on my job and catch the rabbit.
The Pillar stops in the middle of gorging on the rest of the cake. “This might not be the Hatter, Alice,” he says. “I told you that. The Hatter is such a grand, larger-than-life character. I don’t understand why he would play a game with a rabbit and a bomb.”
“So we actually don’t know who we’re dealing with?”
The Pillar swallows the rest of his cake, moaning again, unable to answer me. A few children in the area giggle at his behavior. “We don’t.” He wipes his lips with a napkin, and then pretends to eat it. The children laugh harder, holding on to their parents’ hands. “But we’re dealing with a crazed maniac, mad enough to kill children with a bomb inside a rabbit. That’s
I let out a sigh, lost in my haze of thoughts.
“Look, Alice. What happened in your house today wasn’t your fault.”
“Are we talking about my sisters trying to kill me, or me hesitating to kill Lorina?” I am so not happy with myself for being fooled by her.
“Well, Lorina’s act was superb. I’m still shocked at how you believed her.” He chuckles.
“She is my sister.” I stress each syllable, wishing he would understand. “My family. I ran into her arms for the first glimpse of bonding and peace. Don’t you have a family, Pillar?”
My question is rhetorical in nature, but it seems to strike a chord in the Pillar. His face freezes. His eyes stare into a distant memory. I wish I knew how to hypnotize him and know all about him.
“I do.” He nods. And just before he looks like he’ll open up to me, he sticks his fork into my cake and stuffs it into his mouth, silencing his conscience. “You will get better with these emotional hazards once you get your training.”
“Training?”
“They say every day in your life is nothing but training for a bigger cause. Like today. You learned a Life’s Horrible Truth Number 55.”
“Which is?” I grimace.
“Thou shalt not trust anyone,” he says. “It’s a harsh truth, unbelievable, but with all the madness surrounding us, it’s crucial. You shouldn’t have fallen for you sister’s play.” He smiles, as if I should accept this as a fully fleshed reply.
We stare at each other. It’s a long moment. I don’t grasp the meaning of it. All I am grasping moment after moment is that I am getting lonelier among the crowd. Was that why Alice met so many animals in her book? Because she couldn’t trust grownups? Because she was lonely?
“How long before the Hatter sends you the next clue?” The Pillar breaks the tension, finishing
I stare at the housemaid dress, the gloves, and the fan I collected, contemplating the Pillar’s words. “It’s almost as if I’m in a computer game collecting items for some great reveal.”
“That’s quite right.” He says it as if it didn’t cross his mind. “The next clue should confirm your theory.”
The Hatter’s phone beeps on the table. The Pillar and I share an uncomfortable moment. Then I pick it up and read the message:
The Pillar snatches the phone and reads it. He looks perplexed.
“Are you saying you don’t know where this Snail Mound is?” I say.
“I don’t,” the Pillar says. He isn’t comfortable with the fact either. “But you’re missing the fact that whatever that Snail Mound is, it’s supposed to be in Wonderland. How are you supposed to get to Wonderland?”
“Through the Tom Tower, maybe?” I suggest. “The Einstein Blackboard, traveling back in time?”
“These aren’t doorways to Wonderland,” the Pillar explains. “These are only temporarily glimpses into it. You can’t use them to stay prolonged periods in Wonderland. To find something specific, you need to learn how to really go to Wonderland. Which, in the meantime, is impossible.”
“You never told me about that. Why is it impossible?”
“The only way to go to Wonderland is to find six keys, leading to six doors, leading to Wonderland.” The Pillar pouts, as if he didn’t want to bring this up now. All I can think about is that key Lewis gave me is one of those keys. “Six Impossible Keys. Lewis used to call them Six Impossible Things. But that’s way too soon to talk about. This message doesn’t make sense. It’s another game without much clues.”
“Okay,” I say. “I will message him and ask him to clarify.” I begin typing my message to him.
Once I begin, the phone beeps:
The message sends shivers to my spine. I raise my head and look up at the surrounding buildings. How is it possible the Hatter sees me?
I stand up and keep looking at the roofs of the buildings. I am looking for a man with a top hat and goggles, like the children described. But I can’t see such a man.
I feel like a rocket about to launch, spitting out fire. “What do you want from me?” I scream at the sky, spreading my hands sideways.
“What’s wrong, Alice?” the Pillar says.
The walking pedestrians avoid my path, thinking I am insane.