Hello! I'm back with yet another fun tale of magic and adventure. Well...it may not be magic and adventure, but hopefully, it'll be a few minutes of good fun. I normally don't like to write anything before the actual story, but I have a little note for your consideration before we begin. The March Hare, in this particular story, is a little bit different than normal. I enjoyed toying with the idea that in any month but March, he is quite the respectable fellow. Now with that in mind, on with the story!
Disclaimer: Though it pains me, I am not responsible for any of the material below. I'm afraid Lewis Carroll, Disney, and a very clever duo have already laid claim. I do, however, claim the plot and reimaginings of these well-known and beloved characters.
"You, my dear, are a liar."
Alice, who was somewhat preoccupied, did not respond immediately. She was in the process of hanging paper lanterns, and while this was not a preferred method of passing time, she found herself caught up in the activity all the same. Honestly, any way to ignore Mr. Theophilius was better than actually paying attention to him, and since several of the lanterns had been blown away due to an unexpected thunderstorm, Alice had gladly taken this task upon herself with much more enthusiasm than was necessary for the particular situation.
It was a rather warm day with a heavy sun beating down overhead. Normally, Alice would've been inside enjoying a nice book, but much earlier, the March Hare had invited her for tea. She had learned long ago that it was terribly hard to turn down one of his invitations so she had accepted under the condition that Mr. Theophilius would not be present. An agreement had been made, and Alice had arrived much later precisely on time with optimistic spirits for a pleasant afternoon. How surprised she had been to find the Hatter seated at the head of the table with the March Hare mysteriously missing. The exchange had not been the pleasant evening for which she had hoped, and with one last venomous look, she began the task she was currently still undertaking.
Reginald had remained quiet for most of the evening content with his teacups and tablespoons, but as with all good things, this had finally come to an end. Now, he was staring at her with a smug smirk on his face and pointed tablespoon in her direction. Alice found the tablespoon more infuriating than anything else, but she tried to remain calm hoping he would soon become distracted and forget she was even there. After several minutes, he still remained in his tablespoon-pointed position, and Alice was finding it more difficult to ignore him as the minutes ticked slowly by.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Alice said.
She had not really meant to respond, yet something about the way he kept eyeing her from across the table made the words slip out before she could contain them. Alice decided, however, to ignore this tiny slip up and picked up another lantern from the ground. She would not let him get the better of her today.
Reginald, however, seemed to think he had already gotten the better of her. Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw him lay down the tablespoon and take a sip from his teacup. His expression clearly changed for a moment to satisfaction. After swallowing, he gently placed the cup back in the saucer and then reached to his left to grasp another tablespoon, which he then pointed in her direction.
"I believe you do," he finally remarked in reply.
"Well, I don't," she said, "and I would appreciate your silence."
She could see that he was not going to forget about her anytime soon so she decided to concentrate harder on her self-appointed task. The lantern rehanging would be finished shortly, and Alice was glad to be done with it all. She'd finally be rid of his silly chatter and be able to continue on with a quiet evening. A tiny part of her, however, wanted to prolong the task, but she shrugged it off as nothing. Honestly, she had come to visit the March Hare for tea, and even though he was still strangely absent and she had not had any tea, it was possible he could appear at any moment and a proper tea party could actually commence. Why not stay just a bit longer to actually keep the engagement?
Reginald continued to stare at her, and though Alice did not know why, she was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable, as if he knew a secret about her that she didn't. It was highly unlikely, yet something about the smug smirk made her uneasy all the same. It didn't help that he was convinced she was lying. Alice did not have the tiniest inkling as to what she could be lying about, but with Reginald, it didn't exactly have to make sense to anyone else for him to find the conclusion.
"Why are you here?" he asked suddenly.
The question caused Alice to pause in her actions momentarily, but the recovery was instant. She hooked another lantern before answering.
"I thought that was rather obvious," she said. "I was invited for tea."
"Yes," he replied, "but you haven't had any."
"I never do get any tea when you're here, do I?" she answered.
"I don't think you're actually here for tea," he said.
Alice missed the hook this time. From the corner of her eye, she could see that his expression had changed to one of triumph.
"Why should I be here unless it was for tea?" she snapped.
"Because you're not really here for tea," he said again.
Alice now found it much more difficult to continue in her task, yet she was determined to show no signs of weakness. All Reginald needed was just a little more encouragement! His expression was enough to let Alice know that his silent behavior earlier had been plotting time, and now he was carrying out the plans in his head. It was like he was a spider slowly spinning the web to catch his tasty prey. Alice, however, did not like to be viewed as the prey and hung the last lantern with the intent of winning this silly argument.
"That's ridiculous, Mr. Theophilius," she scoffed. "Who comes to a tea party if not for the tea?"
"A valid argument, my dear," he answered.
Reginald was now standing and slowly inching closer as they continued arguing. Judging by how close he was to her, it was safe to say he had been inching down the table for several seconds, but since Alice had been so intent on ignoring him, she hadn't realized how the game had been steadily changing in his favor. Now with nothing with which to occupy herself, she began to feel more uncomfortable by the minute.
"I do believe, however, that if you were so intent on having tea, as you say you are," he said, "you would've already had a cup. Yet, since you have blissfully been rehanging all the lanterns since you arrived, one can only assume that the tea was not your main focus for this visit."
With each word, he steadily closed the distance between them. Alice's natural instinct caused her to move slowly back, and a little grin flitted momentarily across his lips as the game of cat and mouse commenced.
"I'm afraid you're entirely mistaken," Alice replied while dodging a chair. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe it's getting late. I really should be going…"
He continued to advance, and Alice began to wonder if the March Hare had actually been part of Reginald's little game from the beginning. It was becoming clearer that this plan of action had been well thought out long before she arrived. Could her dear furry little friend have actually agreed to lure her in and set the trap? For now, she decided against it. After all, Reginald was mad, and this could possibly have been a completely independent and spontaneous stunt. Alice hoped so because if the March Hare really had been involved, she wasn't sure how many more unbirthdays he was going to be able to celebrate.
"No, little cricket," Reginald said. "You are the one mistaken."
With a grin, he leapt over the table, and Alice had to quickly turn and run in the opposite direction. He was gaining on her with each step, but Alice was not to be bested. She dodged around him and made a beeline for the little, garden gate running as fast as she possibly could. Unfortunately for Alice, Reginald had been expecting it and reached the gate just before she did. Alice gave a little yelp and darted back toward the long table. Somewhere behind her, she could hear his gleeful laughs as he followed.
"Mr. Theophilius!" she shouted. "This is highly inappropriate! I do hope you don't treat all your guests this way!"
"Only you, little cricket," he answered. "Only you."
With that exclamation, Reginald sprang over the table once more and landed directly in front of Alice. She gave a little squeal of fright and tried to change direction once more, but he caught her wrist with one fluid motion. The game was over, and Alice had lost.
"Let go," she commanded.
"Not until you answer my question," he said.
"What question?"
Alice was terribly irritated by this point. All she had wanted was a nice quiet evening, but instead she had been chased around the garden and harassed about not wanting any tea. Why, she had never had tea when the Hatter had been present before. What made this time any different? It was almost useless to argue, but Alice was not one to give up without a fight. Unfortunately, neither was Reginald.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I came to a tea party!" she answered.
"But not for the TEA!"
He still had a firm grip on her wrist and showed no signs of letting go. Alice was not entirely sure what to do in this particular situation, but she was not going to let him think he had any power over her.
"Well, I've had quite enough of this nonsense," Alice said. "Now, if you would kindly let go, I'm going home!"
"Ah ha!" he shouted.
This took Alice by surprise. She had not expected him to react this way to her simple proclamation. The smug smirk, however, appeared on his face once more, and he held tight to Alice's wrist as though time would stop if he ever let go.
"You admit that it wasn't the tea!" he shouted.
"I did not," she said.
"Yes! Yes, you did!" he exclaimed happily.
Alice, who did not like to be confused and also did not like to be accused of false accusations, was finding it rather hard to remain calm. At first she had ignored him. When that did not work, she had simply tried to reason. That had also failed, and she decided to stand firm in her resolve. That, too, had been unsuccessful. Now, she was running out of options. Finally, Alice had reached her breaking point. Little did she know that that had been Reginald's plan all along. He knew, as did others before him, that when one reached the breaking point, it was quite common for that person to let go of closely guarded details that would not be made public knowledge under any other circumstances. Certain things just had a way of slipping out, and that was precisely what he had been after this whole time.
"Oh! Why does it matter if I came for the tea or not?" she shouted. "What business of yours is it anyway?"
"It's very much my business," he replied.
"Well, I can't see how, and I shan't stay here a minute longer. Now kindly unhand me before you find yourself in serious trouble," she said.
At this statement, Reginald let out a peel of laughter. "Serious trouble? What could you possibly do, Cricket?"
For those who knew Mr. Reginald Theopilius III, it was quite clear that he was of a quick mind and sunny disposition. It was also quite clear that he was unapologetically mad, and though he was a master of schemes and tricks, he did not always think of all the possibilities in a situation, so proud of himself was he for thinking of the trick. The current situation was a prime example of his reasoning and deductive skills. In this instance, he had managed to make Alice angry, which was part of the plan. He had also managed to take hold of her wrist, and in this process temporarily bond Alice to him. This was also part of the plan. What he had not thought of, however, was that Alice had one free hand, and when she was angry and somewhat trapped, she would find any avenue to turn the tables back in her favor. Obviously, this was not part of his little scheme either, but he had not taken her personality into his considerations.
"What wouldn't I do, Mr. Theophilius?" she said.
A devious look crossed her face, one Reginald had never seen there before. With her free hand, she reached toward the table and grasped a pretty, blue teacup. It was one of his favorites, she knew, with intricate leaf designs. He had told her once, in a rare moment of civil conversation, that it had been given to him as an unbirthday present, the only teacup he had ever gotten.
"Now, unhand me or I'm going to smash this teacup," she said sternly.
Reginald's face paled. "Is that necessary?"
"Very much so," she replied.
Alice raised the cup high over her head, but at that very instant, the garden gate slammed shut with a loud bang. This caused a slight pause in the current situation, because for a brief instant, both Alice and the Hatter were distracted as the March Hare stood open-mouthed watching the strange spectacle before him. At one point, he must have been holding several packages, but they all now lay scattered on the grass or on the cobblestone path that led up to the great, garden table.
"My word! What in the devil is going on here?" he exclaimed.
Alice was the first to recover, and since Reginald's grip had considerably loosened, she took the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and place the pretty teacup back on the table. She managed to keep her face quite composed, though a deep blush was threatening to stain her cheeks and give the game away.
"Nothing at all," she answered. "In fact, I was just telling Mr. Theophilius that I should be getting home. I do hope we can have tea soon."
With a venomous look toward Reginald, she hurried off toward the garden gate and disappeared down the path. The only sign of her presence left in the garden was the restrung paper lanterns.
"Well, you've really out done yourself this time," said the March Hare. He was gathering up his packages as he spoke. "I assume everything went as planned."
"Not quite," Reginald replied.
He had watched quietly as Alice rushed from the garden and continued to stare for several seconds after she was out of his sight. He had just now recovered and reseated himself at the head of the table.
"Well," began the March Hare," I suppose chasing the poor girl was a bit much."
"You might have mentioned that before you left," Reginald retorted. "How long were you at the gate?"
"Long enough though not long at all," the Hare replied. "I arrived right as you leapt over the table."
The March Hare set his packages on the end of the table opposite from Reginald and poured a cup of tea. He took a sip, and then seeing the forlorn look upon his friend's face, set down the cup with a rather thoughtful expression.
"You know, my dear boy," he said, "not all was wasted today. She was here a total of six hours. That must count, you know."
Reginald perked up a bit at the Hare's words, but he hadn't quite returned to his normal self yet. He had been hoping to pry that much prized confession from her lips.
"She wasn't here for the tea," he stated. "She's never here for the tea."
"Be patient," the Hare replied. "Today, after all, must have got her mind working if nothing else."
As the two friends, one mad by nature and the other mad by season, sat having tea, Alice was making her way down the dirt road toward her snug cottage. As she walked, the events in the garden continued to replay in her mind, and she began to wonder if she had actually been there for a purpose other than the tea. Could it be possible that somewhere in her mind she actually wanted to spend time with Reginald Theophilius III? Her first instinct was to reject the idea, but as she continued to think, it occurred to her that maybe deep down he really wasn't so terrible after all. She dismissed the idea for now, and though Reginald had not gotten the confession he so longed for, he had successfully succeeded in bringing something much more important to Alice's attention, even if she was not quite ready to admit it.
As the sky darkened, Alice reached her cottage, unlocked the front door, and stepped inside. Nothing had changed since the morning, except her dear friend Belle was now seated at the kitchen table, as she was accustomed to do on evenings after Alice had been to a tea party. She was reading, but closed her book as her friend entered.
"So..." she began. "How was it?"
Alice almost didn't answer, but after several moments of Belle's searching stare, she gave in and plastered on the cheeriest face she could muster.
"The same as always," she said.
"You are such a liar, Alice," Belle replied with a laugh.
Alice, who was somewhat preoccupied, did not respond immediately. Instead, she found herself thinking of a certain hat maker with much more warmth than normal, and while this was not a preferred method of passing time, she found herself caught up in the activity all the same.
The end.