Figment Read online

  The light in the hall dims, preparing for the start of the play.

  "As you might have heard, photographers will tell you a camera never lies," the Pillar says. "In Carroll's case it was exceptionally true. The poverty his camera caught was heartbreaking. If you'd ever paid attention to his photographs, mostly of young homeless girls, you would understand his obsession. Poverty, hunger, and unfair childhood screamed out of every photo."

  "I could imagine Lewis like that."

  "Before writing books and puzzles, Lewis directed small plays in Oxford to entertain the poor, skinny kids with tattered clothes. He did it because there was not enough money to buy them food. In all history, art has been food of the poor, Alice. Remember that." The Pillar seems lost for a moment. I wonder what memory he is staring into. "Carroll called his intentions 'saving the children.' He wanted to save a child's childhood. He wanted to save their memories from being stained by the filth of his era."

  "I couldn't save them!" Lewis' words ring in my ears.

  "Those plays he directed for them introduced Carroll to the art of nonsense," the Pillar explains. "Kids are nonsensical by nature. A lame joke would make them laugh, because they are at ease with who they are. Unlike grown-ups, who are weighed down by the years."

  "I still don't understand his connection to the Drury Lane Theatre, where we're supposed to find the Muffin Man."

  "That's the easy part," the Pillar says. "The plays needed funding for production. Carroll was smart and resourceful. He gave his plays for free to the Theatre Royal, which was struggling after being burned down a few years back and couldn't afford to pay for new plays. In return, the theatre provided Carroll with costumes for his plays."

  "That was why he held the suitcase and smiled when the kids asked him," I murmur.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Nothing," I say. "So that's his connection to Drury Lane Theatre?"

  "My assumption, with the Cheshire's clues, is that Lewis Carroll met the Muffin Man in Drury Lane," he says. "Only, Carroll never felt the need to mention the Muffin Man in any of his writings."

  "Maybe Carroll wrote the nursery rhyme?"

  "That's farfetched, and we have no evidence to back it up," he says. "All I know is that after all those connections and the fact that an Alice in Wonderland play took place here the day the murders started, I believe the Muffin Man wants us to be here. He will probably want us to witness something."

  "Something like what?"

  In this moment, the Pillar cranes his neck upward at the higher balconies in the theatre. An unusual look startles his face. "Something like this." He points up.

  I look and squint against the faint light in the theatre. I see an important woman arriving in the balcony, accompanied by a number of guards.

  "What brings Margaret Kent here?" I ask.

  "The Duchess is in the house." The Pillar sighs. "This is getting curiouser and curiouser." He lowers his head, ready to watch the play. "I don't feel guilty using her credit card to pay for your dress now."

  "What?" I crane my neck at him in surprise. "You did what?"

  "We used it to book the theatre's tickets too." He shakes his shoulder. "She is a charitable woman." Then a huge smirk invades his face. "Which reminds me..."

  Chapter 35

  The Duchess' presence provokes the Pillar. Consequences are both absurd and hilarious.

  "Take this." He passes me his hookah again, spits in his gloves, and says, "This is going to be fun."

  The Pillar stands and faces the crowd. Sitting right in the middle of the audience, the crowd is watching us from every direction.

  "Sit down!" someone says.

  "Ladies and morons of the Theatre Royal." The Pillar's welcoming hands masquerade his insults. The smile on his face is overly sincere, like those self-help lecturers. "Tonight isn't a normal night. It's the kind of evening remembered in history books. You know history, which only winners write, and forge it the way they like?"

  Someone chuckles among the crowd. A few still demand he sits. A couple swear at him, pretty vulgar words you're not supposed to say in a theatre. And to my surprise, the stage's curtains hang half open.

  "Are you part of the show?" a kid asks.

  The Pillar nods. "So, like I said, ladies and monkeys, all you silly Wonderland lovers." Another couple of spectators chuckle. "Tonight is the night. We're here in the presence of an extraordinary woman." He points upward at the balconies. The Duchess' guards keep calm, but reach for their guns. The light technician, thinking the show has turned elsewhere, directs the spotlight at the balcony. That's where everyone is looking now. "The one and only Margaret Ugly Kent!" The Pillar's theatrical act deserves an Oscar.

  "Is that really her middle name?" I hiss.

  He dismisses me with a wave of his hand and talks to the theatre's orchestra. "This wasn't really the bang I was looking for." He looks annoyed. "This is the most important woman in Parliament."

  The orchestra musicians seem to suddenly think he is the man in charge. One of them suggests he welcome the Duchess again, so they could play a great musical introduction.

  The Pillar sniffs and repeats his welcome: "The one and only, woman of the year, whom all you morons are secretly afraid of, Margaret Kent!"

  This time, music and light overwhelm the place. The crowd, either pressured or on their own will, stand up and clap for the Duchess.

  Margaret Kent feels the pressure to stand up and greet her fans, her pursing lips growling at the Pillar. I don't think she wanted to be seen. She sneaked in, last minute. Is she looking for the Muffin Man too?

  "Flowers!" the Pillar demands of the theatre's staff. "Where are the flowers?"

  No one offers flowers. Why would they have flowers in a play? The Pillar changes strategies.

  "Be seated, citizens," the Pillar says. They do so. "Now, do you think that our beloved Duchess—ah, I mean Parliament lady—is here for the sake of art? Of course she doesn't care about art," the Pillar continues. "She doesn't even care about theatre." The crowd's faces go red. Some of them sink deeper in their seats. "But she cares about you." Some of them rise back in their seats. "She loves you. She really does. And you know what she has in store for you?" He laughs. "Oh, no, don't be absurd. She's not going to chop off anyone's heads today. That would be the Queen of Hearts we're about to see in the play." The Pillar signals to the orchestra's drummer to hit the cymbals for effect. Most of the crowd laughs, uneasily. "Our beloved Margaret Kent has a surprise for you. And you know why? Because you are all sheep—I mean, obedient citizens who pay taxes and vote for her." His smile never weakens. "And because of that, she, on behalf of all prestigiously obnoxious members of Parliament, and on behalf of the Queen of England, and of course let's not forget Roman Yeskelitch, the man who lost his children's heads to an evil watermelon last week. On behalf of all of those, you're rewarded a lifetime's free meals at Duck N Donald's Trashburgers." He raises his hands, and a few kids clap. "And lifetime free drinks." His voice pitches even higher. "From Drink Dishit soda drinks." People stand up again and clap. "Lifetime free meals! Can you even imagine?"

  Praises, claps, and moans as if they all won the lottery. The crowd goes crazy. What's with people's unconditional appreciation for food?

  Again, the Duchess feels the need to comply and smile to her fans.

  "And who do you thank for this?" The Pillar points up at the Duchess, who forcefully waves back to the appreciative audience. "You've gotta love Britain!" The Pillar's voice is barely audible among the crowd's praise. The Drury Lane Theatre turned into one great chaotic food market.

  "Enjoy all the food you can eat." The Pillar raises his voice as much as possible in this madfest. "Enjoy all cholesterol, all the bad crabs, all the sugar and saturated fat! Get fat, people of Britain. Sugar your bellies. Beer away your minds. Forget about your Bill of Rights. Here is your Bill of Disease. Buy a ticket for your loon cancer. It's awesome to be insane!"

  The Pillar, out of breath, taps his hat at the Duches
s, who smiles in the face of the enemy. That fake politician smile.

  The Pillar sits down, adjusts his clothes, and says, "Well, that was something." He smiles at me. I have to admit, I smile back. He might be a killer. He might be devious, and plagued by a lot of conspiracy theories, but I can't help but laugh. "So why were we here, again?"

  Chapter 36

  The play is actually entertaining, full of laughs and quirky moments. The acting is superb, very believable, and the production is top notch. They start with the "Down the Rabbit Hole" chapter where Alice meets the rabbit who is chubby and small and very funny. I have to admit the costumes are excellent enough that if you just buy into the fantasy, you wouldn't think of them as human actors portraying animals anymore.

  I do squirm a bit in my seat when a mirror comes into the scene. Thank God we're sitting in the middle of the auditorium, far enough that the mirror has no effect on me.

  "That Alice is horrible," the Pillar mumbles. "In the real book, she wore yellow, not blue. Blue is Disney's doing."

  "You hate Disney."

  "What makes you think that?" he whispers. "Jafar from Aladdin is my hero."

  The next chapter, "The Pool of Tears," is superbly portrayed. There is an actual flood of water taking place on stage. I have no idea how they do it. The Pillar raises a suspicious eyebrow, as if telling me something is fishy here.

  Still, the acting is amazing. The songs are enchanting. I like how the play is presented in a comedic way, not the morbid Alice world I live in.

  The "Caucus Race" chapter follows. It's hilarious. When they start to dance in place, the Pillar can't resist moving his feet and cane to the music.

  When the caterpillar chapter plays, the Pillar squirms in his seat. "That's not me," he mumbles. "Absolutely not."

  Then he sits back and watches chapters four and five without much interest. He says he never liked those chapters.

  Midway, the curtains pull to a close, announcing a break. Lights turn on again. A few sellers offer drinks during the break. There is a loud ice cream boy walking around, offering it for free. He isn't much welcomed by the elders, but the kids adore him.

  A few people hurry to the Pillar's seat, asking for autographs. I think they believe him to be the Duchess' spokesman. I tilt my head up; the Duchess is gritting her teeth, although cameras aren't giving her a break to breathe.

  The curtains pull open again, and now we're in for the much-loved "Pig and Pepper" chapter.

  I don't know what is supposed to be so great about it. It's lame and boring. The Duchess, portrayed by an actress with brilliant makeup, is mad at her cook in this scene. Her cook, a peculiarly tall actor, even taller with the toque on his head, loves pepper in the strangest ways. He keeps adding pepper in the food and enjoys watching the Duchess' guests choking. Then he throws pepper in the air, chanting, "Peppa! More peppa!"

  The crowd finds it amusing, actually.

  Maybe I am not just in the mood, now that we have waited too long with no appearance of the Muffin Man. I look to my left, and the Pillar is as bored and puzzled as me. Are we here just to watch a play? It looks like we followed a wrong lead all along.

  I take a deep breath and continue watching the performance on stage. Suddenly, someone is sitting on my right side. He grabs my hand and squeezes it, but I don't panic. It's a warm hand that I know and trust.

  It's the ice cream boy. It's Jack Diamonds.

  Chapter 37

  "Hey," he whispers, sliding down in his chair and tightening the ice cream cap on his head. "I was thinking."

  I say nothing. I am happy he is there. It's illogical. It doesn't make sense, but I can't fight the feeling.

  "About what I said about marrying you," he says. "I can't."

  "Why?" I raise an eyebrow, whispering, pretending to be surprised.

  "It's not because I don't like you," he says. "I told you I am mad about you."

  "You said that before, Jack."

  "Saying it every morning won't express how I really feel." He squeezes my hand. "But it's just...I'm not ready for marriage."

  I act upset. "You think you're too young?" I whisper.

  "I am too poor, but that's not the reason," he says. "They fired me from Oxford University today, so I practically have no future now."

  "Why did they fire you?" A smile sticks to my face and promises not to leave me as long as Jack is nearby.

  "It's silly," he says. "They said I was dead. Can you believe that?"

  I shrug and pull my hand away. I feel guilty when I hear this. Why does he keep bringing up the subject?

  "No." His eyes moisten when I pull my hand away. "I'm not really dead. They just think that. How can I be dead? I am here talking to you. What bothers me is that they said that my name isn't Jack, which is really absurd."

  "Then you're not fired. They can't fire you without getting your name right," I suggest.

  "I know. I am not giving up, trust me. I will do my best to become a great man and deserve you."

  "Selling 'Ice Scream' sounds like a start," I tease, easing my aching heart.

  "I did try racing in France, but it didn't work," he says. "It's like I don't know what I really want yet."

  "I know the feeling." I pull his hands back. He seems the happiest boy on earth.

  "Alice." His voice gets softer. "Don't bother with me. It's you that matters."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Just listen. I don't think you know what you are capable of." He holds both of my hands, and his look in my eyes intensifies. "Trust me. You have no idea. I know it's a bumpy road, but you will be all right." His eyes sparkle as his gaze scans every part of my face adoringly. I think he is about to kiss me.

  Just before he does, the Pillar interrupts and asks whom I am talking to.

  "It's Jack." I sigh. Bad timing, Pillar. Very bad timing.

  "Who's Jack?"

  "You know who," I grunt.

  "Ah, the boy who is not there," the Pillar says, watching the show with interest. "I assume he is on your right side now."

  "He is."

  "Tell him I said hi, because I can't see him," the Pillar says. "Tell him I wonder if he'll still be there when the light turns on."

  "I will be," Jack says, finally confronting him. "You shouldn't walk with this man, Alice." Jack squeezes my hand.

  Silence steals my breath away. I am still confused about the Pillar's reaction to Jack. I am also heart-warmed by Jack wanting to become a better man to marry me.

  Then the silence breaks when the glaring spotlights from the stage are directed toward me. When I look up, the man hosting the play is talking to me.

  "Hey, miss," he says in the echoing microphone.

  I say nothing, freaked out by the sudden and unexplainable attention.

  "Yes, you." He points my way. "Are you even watching the show?"

  The crowd laughs.

  "We've chosen you to kindly approach the stage," the host says. "I believe you haven't heard us."

  "Why?"

  "This is the part of the show the reviewers said is the most refreshing. The 'Pig and Pepper' chapter," the man explains. "We select a girl from the crowd to portray Alice for a short scene. Amateur improvisation. You haven't had any kind of acting lesson before, have you?"

  "No." I shrug.

  "Fabulous," he says. "It's really going to be fun. Would you mind approaching the stage?" The man stretches a welcoming arm.

  The crowd encourages me to go.

  "No thank you," I say. I am not going to do some acting improvisation on stage on my fifth day out in the real world.

  "Yes!" The Pillar stands up and encourages the crowd to clap their hands. "She will come." He pulls me up, sneering at me.

  Finally, I get the message. The Pillar thinks this is the part where we meet the Muffin Man. Come to think of it, he might be right. Why would the host choose me to get on stage? It's too much of a coincidence.

  "I'm her uncle," the Pillar says. He needs no other introduction to
the crowd. "She doesn't go anywhere without me, which means I will approach the stage with her."

  "Hmm..." The host sighs. "If she is going to play Alice, who do you suppose to play, then?"

  "I'll play the doorknob," the Pillar says.

  The crowd goes nuts, laughing.

  "I always wanted to be the doorknob." The Pillar smiles like a child again. "You know, the doorknob Alice has to talk to when she is crossing the Pool of Tears."

  "And I am her husband." Jack appears. "I mean, her boyfriend. I mean, I am Jack. I could play...hmm...Jack. Jack of Diamonds," he stutters, uncomfortable with the many faces looking at him.

  I take my time to hear the crowd's reaction to Jack. They see him, or no? Come on. They saw him as an ice cream boy before. Why not see him now?

  A long, long moment passes before the host says, "Why not. You may approach the stage." The man turns his back to us and waves his finger.

  My heart drops to the floor. I want to know if he sees Jack.

  A few steps in, the man turns back, annoyed by our slow reaction. "Hurry, we have limited stage time. Come on stage, the three of you."

  Chapter 38

  Performing stage, Drury Lane Theatre, London

  I hold Jack's hand as we get on stage. The Pillar walks behind us, avoiding my sharp looks. I still don't understand why he wants me to think Jack doesn't exist. All those audience members can't be wrong.

  Once on stage, I am dazzled again with the accurate reality up there. It's a huge stage, but everything feels so real. The trees leading to house of the Duchess, where we're supposed to meet her and her insane cook, smell just like normal trees do. When I reach out to touch them, the host offensively slaps my hands and tells me to concentrate on the play. He also orders the Pillar and Jack to wait by the curtains until he figures out their roles.

  "My uncle could play the Cheshire Cat," I tell the host, grinning with joy at the Pillar. If he still pretends Jack doesn't exist, this is my chance to get back at him. I know it's childish, but I'd rather call it mad.