The Complete Alice Wonder Series - Insanity - Books 1 - 9 Page 8

"Is that a coincidence?"

  "From now on, there are no coincidences. Everything we'll go through is carefully planned by the Cheshire, and its solution has to relate to Lewis Carroll."

  "Is that what inspired Carroll to create the Cheshire character, because he was born in the town of Cheshire?"

  "Create, no. Write about, yes," the Pillar explains. "Cheshire is a dairy county, long known for a peculiar cheese warehouse in the banks of the River Dee. That's when it was still a port, more than a hundred years ago."

  "So?"

  "Patience, my dear mad girl." The Pillar pauses and takes a longer drag. He wants to teach me to listen and not interrupt him. "Of course, a cheese warehouse in Cheshire attracted a whole lot of miserable rats." He imitates their squeaky voices on the phone. I am starting to glimpse part of his insanity. "The rats came from all over the world to the cheese warehouse, thanks to the ships arriving to transport the cheese. That's when the cats crawled into Cheshire County, assembling on the dockside to catch the endless amount of rats. And since no Pied Piper ever came to Cheshire, the Cheshire Cats were the happiest in the kingdom. Happiest means they grinned all the time."

  I find myself wanting to sit all of a sudden, still staring at that grinning cat on the block of cheese on the table. Part of the Pillar's story sent thunderbolts to my head as if I should remember this myself, but I can't. Another part was the craziness of the fact that the Cheshire Cat is real. This isn't a game. This isn't a copycat.

  "Alice?" the Pillar says.

  "I'm here. Just felt a bit dizzy. Why is the Cheshire sending us this message, then?"

  "Well, for one, the message is for me. I imagine he has other riddles for you, later. As for now, he wants to remind us he is real, not just a grinning cat in a book with pictures. He has a history and an origin. He wants us to respect him."

  "So, what is he? A cat possessing someone's soul?" I let out a nervous laugh.

  "I can't answer that now. But you'll never look at cats the same way again, will you?" The Pillar laughs without acknowledging me. "Now, let's get back to the puzzles. Look closer at the block of cheese. You might find something underneath it. I'm sure this game isn't finished yet."

  I pick up the cheese and inspect it.

  "Anything?" the Pillar asks.

  "Yes," I say. "When I turn the cheese upside down, I see something carved on its back."

  "Please read it, Alice. Meow some Cheshire music to my ears." The Pillar is a notch too excited now. I'm caught between a serial killer I am supposed to catch, and another puffing nonsense in my ears.

  "It says: Eat Me." I shake my head at the silliness.

  "Now that's frabjous in a very Jub Jub way." The Pillar claps his hands.

  "Look, I'm not going to do it," I whisper with gritted teeth as I fist my hands.

  "I think you will, Alice," the Pillar says in the calmest voice I've ever heard.

  "Listen, you little piece of…" I wave my forefinger in the air and notice people tilting their heads toward me. "You little piece of caterpillar." I smile broadly at the tourists. They squint at my absurdness.

  "Poor girl. She's so into the act that she really is Alice," an old woman with bushy white hair tells her husband. "She even dresses like her."

  "Wise woman." The Pillar laughs at me on the phone.

  "The tourists think I am a loon." I turn and face Lewis Carroll's portrait, so I can talk to him privately.

  "Good for you, or they'd be calling the police for suspicious activity in the Great Hall. Now be a good girl, and do what the Cheshire asks."

  "Tell me one reason why I should, Professor Pillar," I challenge him. "You can't make me."

  "Please look at the back of the Cheshire's map, and then tell me you have changed your mind." He is too sure of himself. No hint of sarcasm or insanity.

  I pull the crumpled map from my pocket and flatten it upon the portrait. The heck with what people think of me. I flip it on its back and discover there is handwriting in the middle: Either you solve my riddles fast, or the next girl dies before noon. The message hits me like a pebble in the eye. I raise my head and gaze at the sun beyond the high windows. Its rays are almost perpendicular outside. I have so little time to save a girl from death. The sneaky Pillar knew about her from the beginning.

  "Still think you're not mad, Alice?" The Pillar's voice scares me. "Because it rather takes a mad to catch a mad."

  22

  "Give me a minute to think it over." I turn around and stare at the big block of cheese.

  "A minute might be a bit too late," the Pillar says. "Look at you, staring at the cheese like a hungry mouse. The Cheshire is probably watching you somewhere, and his plan is working so far." The Pillar's words tick in my head like a time bomb. A girl's life is at stake here. "I hope you get what he is conveying. Back in Cheshire County, he used to feed on the mice eating the cheese from the warehouse. By eating the cheese, you will be his little mouse now, Alice. Your reluctance isn't doing the girl any good."

  "All right. I'll take the cheese to the bathroom and cut it open with something." I pick it up from the table. "I assume there is another message inside. Like a fortune cookie, maybe."

  "Alice, Alice, Alice," the Pillar sighs. "When the Cheshire says 'eat me,' you have to eat it. You don't have time. Just look at the sun." I tilt my head again and see his point. I can't believe a girl's life depends on me. Who in the world am I to save a life? "Come on, pull your sleeves up and dip into the cheese. Detach yourself from the tourists. What's the worst that could happen: they might think you're insane?" The Pillar is having the time of his life.

  And I have to save a girl whom I don't even know.

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes, then sink my teeth into the cheese. It's actually delicious. I nibble on it at first, as the people around me gather to see what kind of cuckoo I am. I have no time for them. Maybe I'll have time to explain later – after I save the girl.

  The nibbling turns into biting. I choose a side and bite through, waiting for a piece of paper to come my way. It doesn't.

  I turn the block of cheese and bite the other side. I am trying my best not to even breathe. The sun has turned into a bomb and keeps on ticking in my head.

  More people gather around me, staring at the nineteen-year-old in a modern Alice dress gorging on cheese.

  A boy picks up the Cheshire's label, which has fallen from the block and shows it to other people. "It says: Eat Me!" He laughs. "This is so awesome!"

  I am biting from a third side now. I can't see the sun through the glass anymore. It's going closer to perpendicular. Or am I just panicking?

  Tick tock. Tick tock. I think I am going to vomit.

  "It's a show." The old woman with the bushy white hair is back. "She isn't a crazy girl. It's a show, and it's entertaining!" She begins clapping, and the tourists follow. They don't clap as in "wow, that's awesome." They clap as if we're in a beer fest, and I am doing the polka dance.

  I take a deep breath and sink in again. My head is going to explode. Why is my head ticking louder whenever I eat more chunks? I can't find the Cheshire's message. This must be cheese overdose.

  "You think she'll grow taller?" another tourist asks.

  "Nah," her husband says. "That's the kind of stuff they'd do in Disney."

  Tick. Tock. Tick tock.

  "Interesting how mad behaviors always entertain the sane," the Pillar whispers in my ear.

  "Shut up!" I yell at him, spitting Cheshire Cheese on the tourists.

  They clap even harder.

  "Tell me, Alice," the Pillar says. "Why is your head ticking?"

  What? How can he hear the ticking in my head? Now, this is absurd.

  "It's like tick tock, all the time," the Pillar says. "Do you have a time bomb somewhere?"

  I can't believe he hears my own thoughts. I can't live this way if he truly does. Suddenly, my teeth hurt really badly. I have bitten something made of steel. My eyes widen as I keep chugging through the cheese, like chat
tering teeth. The message isn't a piece of paper. It's something made of steel. Finally, something falls off the cheese. A watch.

  "That's why I thought I was ticking," I mumble. The tourists laugh. They're on cloud nine now.

  "A watch?" the Pillar asks. "Please tell me it is not a pocket watch, or this Cheshire's sense of humor is atrociously absurd."

  "It is a pocket watch." I pick it up and rub the cheese off it. "It has a rabbit drawn inside. His two hands show the minutes and the hours."

  "That's brilliant. Show me!" the old woman says.

  "Don't you dare come near me," I sneer at her, and get back to the Pillar. "The watch isn't working. It stopped once I touched it, I think."

  "That's even more interesting," the Pillar says.

  "Do something!" I shout at him. "We have to save the girl."

  "Don't yell at me. I am not the killer here," he says. "Well, I kill people, but not this one. Tell me, Alice, anything unusual about the watch?"

  "Other than that it's not working, I don't think so."

  "A pocket watch that isn't working," the Pillar thinks aloud. "What time is it stuck on?"

  "Six o'clock."

  "That's the message," the Pillar says. "I don't really know what it means, though."

  "What? How can you not know? I thought this was some kind of sick game you were playing with the Cheshire. You have to know."

  "I don't," the Pillar says firmly. "Sorry, kid. We're going to have to give up on the girl. It's almost noon, and the Cheshire wins this round."

  "I'm not going to give up on her!" I shout.

  "Why? You don't even know her. She means nothing to you," he says.

  I say nothing because I don't know why. I just have to save her. I can't stand knowing that I could save someone then bail on them.

  "Did the Cheshire eat your tongue?" the Pillar says.

  "Okay, okay." I try to calm myself down. The tourists are taking pictures of me. They are filming me with their phones. That old woman keeps grinning at me. "Let's see. The watch is fixed on six o'clock. Now it's around eleven-thirty. The Cheshire said I have until noon, so six o'clock can't be a number. It can't be time."

  "Interesting," the Pillar says.

  "It's a location." I raise my hands in the air. "Like snipers and policemen in movies, when they say shoot this one in the six o'clock direction."

  "Frabjous," the Pillar says. "And where is six o'clock as a location?"

  "Right behind me." I turn around, back to Lewis Carroll's portrait.

  "Like the Cheshire used to say: if you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there," the Pillar says.

  23

  It doesn't matter how long I inspect Lewis Carroll's portrait; I don't find anything strange. It's devastating. Even the tourists start to get bored, all except the old woman. She is most attentive.

  "Tell me, Alice, does Lewis Carroll grin in the portrait?"

  "No." I double-check, in case my eyes are giving up on me. I had one shot of my medication early this morning. I might need another one since I'm beginning to tire.

  "Damn. That would have been classic," the Pillar says.

  "Maybe it's something behind the portrait," I suggest.

  "I know what six o'clock might be!" the old woman interrupts. Her grin is ridiculous. She is enjoying this more than a seven-year-old would enjoy an Alice in Wonderland book with pictures.

  "Okay?" She might be my last resort.

  "Six o'clock is when the Mad Hatter froze time by singing in his awful voice. The Red Queen said that" she says.

  "The lady is actually right," the Pillar says in my ear.

  "So what?" I ask. "What's the Mad Hatter got to do with this?"

  "It might not be a direct reference to the Hatter. What is the Hatter famous for?"

  "Tea, his hat, and mad parties," I reply.

  "That's the answer," he says, but I don't get it.

  "I think it could be the teacups in the entrance of the Great Hall," the old woman suggests. "Wherever the Hatter goes, there are teacups." I don't even know if she knows what's going on. She thinks this is some kind of interactive display by Oxford University to entertain the tourists, I guess.

  "I always thought Lewis Carroll's books were suitable for nine- to ninety-year-olds," the Pillar says. "She isn't over ninety by any chance, is she?"

  "Shut up." I dart across the hall, pushing the tourists away. I catch the eyes of a security guard, but he doesn't approach me. I wonder if he knows about me.

  I arrive back at the entrance with the huge table with plates and tons of empty teacups on it. I check each and every teacup.

  "She's Alice Bond." The old woman claps her hands.

  "All cups are empty. All but one," I tell the Pillar.

  "Does it say 'drink me'?" the Pillar says in his whimsical voice.

  I don't even waste time. My fingers reach into the tea in the cup, and they touch something. Here it is, just what I was looking for.

  "It's another watch… digital," I say.

  "Working?" the Pillar asks.

  "No."

  "Rub it like you'd rub a bottle with a genie in it." I hear him take a drag. "I'm sure it will start counting downwards."

  "Why?" I rub it with my sleeve anyway.

  "The last watch in the cheese was ticking, and it probably stopped when you rubbed it. This one will work once you rub it. It's just the kind of nonsense the Cheshire would use."

  "But the time was fixed on six o'clock then. He couldn't have predicted when I'd rub it," I say.

  "A watch can still tick when its hour and minute hands are fixed, Alice. It's not that hard to do. Now, rub this one."

  I do. The Pillar is right. It's a stopwatch. The clock's digital counter starts counting backward. Six minutes, I tell the Pillar.

  "So we have only six minutes left. A new deadline," the Pillar comments. "Tick. Rewind. The madness begins again."

  24

  "There must be some other clue in the teacup because this is definitely the last mile in the puzzle," the Pillar suggests.

  The old woman pulls a folded piece of paper from the cup with that silly grin on her face.

  "A paper." I unfold it and read it to the Pillar. "It says, A four-letter doublet."

  "That's what I call exciting," the Pillar says. "What else does it say?"

  "There is a drawing of a door, then an arrow that points from the door to a drawing of a lock," I say. "What the snicker snack is a doublet?" I have no idea why I am talking in the Pillar's slang all of a sudden.

  "A doublet, also called a 'word ladder,' is a game invented by Lewis Carroll during the Christmas of 1877," the Pillar lectures. "It's a simple game. I tell you a four-letter word, and ask you to turn it into another word by changing one letter at a time."

  "What?" My head is frying. I can't even focus on the game.

  "Let's say I ask you to turn the word 'word' into the word 'gold.' First, you'd change 'word' into 'wood' by changing one letter, and then you'd change 'wood' into 'good.' Then finally, you change one last letter in 'good' and turn it into 'gold.' Easy peasy, if you ask me."

  "So what's this got to do with saving the girl?" I glance back at the watch. Five minutes.

  "The Cheshire drew a door and a lock for you," the Pillar explains. "He wants you to turn the word 'door' into the word 'lock.' And since I know how crazy he is, I imagine this is somehow your clue to unlock wherever the girl is being kept. Behind some door, probably. Better get going, Alice."

  "Okay." I panic again. The old woman's eyes widen. I am not sure if she heard the Pillar, but she encourages me and tells me I can do it. "Let's remove one letter from 'door.' Let's change the R into an M. 'Doom.'" I snap my fingers.

  "No. Alice, no," the Pillar says. "You can't see 'doom.' It has to be something you can see or work with where you are. Each word that will come up will help you find the real lock."

  "'Door' into 'boor'?" I mumble.

  "Sounds good," the Pillar says.


  "What's a 'boor'?" I ask.

  "A person of rude and clumsy manners. Go on. You're on the right track."

  "Now we change 'boor' into… hmmm… 'book'?" I raise a finger in the air.

  "Excellent. I imagine we could find a useful book nearby. Go on."

  "'Book' into 'look'?" I'm improvising.

  "And finally, change a single letter in 'look,' and you get 'lock.'" The Pillar claps. "Well done."

  "And then what?" Four minutes left.

  "Look around for a boor, Alice," the Pillar says. "Come on. You don't have much time. A boor. Listen hard for a student, a professor, or a tourist who is complaining, obnoxious, and ill-mannered. There are plenty of those in the world."

  "A boor who is unpleasant and rude," I remind myself as I look around.

  "My husband is definitely unpleasant," the old woman says. "He is in the next hall, arguing over the price of a book he just bought."

  "A boor and a book. Two for the price of one," the Pillar nags me in my ear. "And it's not even Christmas yet."

  25

  "Sir," I call to the man, running toward him.

  He stands arguing with the librarian that he has to refund him because the book he bought has holes in it. When I arrive, I find out that this part of the hall has been emptied for cleaning. The staff members are asking him to leave, as it needs to be maintained. I whiz through and don't let anyone stop me. They stop his wife from following me, though.

  "I paid for this book," the obnoxious man protests. He looks just like I had always imagined Ebenezer Scrooge from "A Christmas Carol" would look in my mind.

  "Please, Mr. Scrooge," the librarian says. "We need you to leave the hall."

  I don't even let my mind consider the fact I heard his name is Scrooge. I find it too distracting, and I have a girl to save.

  "Please, Mr. Scrooge," I say. "Could you please show me the book?"

  "Of course not." He is a tall, scruffy man, and pulls the book away. "I bought it and its mine."

  "You have only three minutes," the Pillar reminds me. "You have to get that book. It's part of the Cheshire's puzzle."