Absolutely Alice
She keeps her promise, over a hundred and twenty-five years after making it. A new Alice arrives in Wonderland, and it is almost as though she had never left. Almost.
DISCLAIMER: Totally not mine.
-XXX-
She fully and wholeheartedly did not intend on getting lost. But, Alice thought to herself, being lost really isn't so bad. Yes, she might get back to her car a little later than intended. The adventure would be well-worth her tardiness.
It was sometime around noon when she strayed from the hiking trail. In the middle of taking a photo of a rather interesting tree, something disturbs her focus. A flash of white in the distance caught her eye. The large white rabbit that accompanied the distraction held her gaze for almost a full minute before she moved. The creature jolted forward, bounding into some foliage. Alice, never one to shy away from a challenge, chased after. Her tennis shoe crunched through the decaying leaves of the forest floor as she jogged up the hill, preventing her from hearing much beyond her own heart beat. She had no intention of capturing the thing, merely follow her impulse to run. It was all very childish and fun – just the sort of thing she was looking for on a weekend trip to the countryside.
The chase abruptly ended when she reached the top to find it void of any manner of rabbits. Turning around, she found herself suddenly and inexplicably lost.
For the next hour she wandered. It was not a bad twist of fate – Alice rather enjoyed the autumn scenery. All the while she pondered her embarrassing behavior.
"Chasing after rabbits, really?" she scolded. "Not something done by somebody who is twenty-two."
Especially not done, her mother would have undoubtedly said, by young ladies of proper breeding. The antiquated term "young ladies of proper breeding" rolls ever so easily off of Helen King's tongue. Alice sometimes wonders how someone with such little imagination could have ever married her father, Charles King, a brilliant businessman and inventor. Her father found excitement in the every-day things, in possibilities no matter how outlandish they seemed. Helen possessed a much sterned, down-to-earth nature. They seemed ill-matched, but Alice knew that there was never a happier couple.
Her father would hide his laughter when she told him of this incident while Helen would give her a hearty scolding. "But why were you chasing a rabbit, Alice?"
Why indeed? What had compelled her to follow the creature? It was quite unrealistic to believe she would manage to catch it….
Her thought were pierced by a rustle of leaves. Looking up, Alice spotted the pesky puff of white fur darting between the trees ahead. Gritting her teeth, she surged forward.
The rabbit squealed as she bore down upon it. Rounding a tree, it dove down into the ground. Alice jolted to a stop, toes skittering to the edge of a massive hole. It was a black, gaping mouth, which no light seemed to penetrate. No bottom was to be seen, nothing past the few initial inches of dirt that outlined the opening. Leaning forward, Alice peered in, trying to discern what lay inside.
"Oh my," she said just before an unseen force pushes her forward, sending the young woman down the hole with a scream.
-XXX-
She woke up some unmeasureable time later surrounded by color and light. With a groan, Alice sat up slowly, care of her sore limbs. Caked with dust, she was quite a mess. Her hair had fallen out of its ponytail, allowing long golden waves to fall about her face like a slightly frizzy curtain. Pushing back a few stray locks from her face, she blinked into the sun.
Several curious flower-faces blink back at her.
Alice swallowed.
The flowers were staring. Their silken petals gleam in the midday light as they tilt their – heads? – curiously.
"Hello," she began stupidly before cursing herself. "Flowers cannot talk." But then again, they were not supposed to have faces, either.
"Gracious, she can speak," a violet said.
"Of course she can speak," a daffodil sniffed. "She's a two-legger. They all talk."
"Not all," interruped a bawdy rose. "My cousin once met a mute two-legger with the funniest name –"
"Hello," Alice said again, louder. Her voice was hoarse, as though she has been sleeping for quite a long time. "Can you tell me – tell me where I am?"
They tittered. Alice struggled to rise, hands planting themselves on her hips after she hauled her backpack up upon her thin shoulders.
"I should like to know where – "
"Why, of course my dear, you're in Underland."
Alice whipped around, hurting her neck in her rush to find the owner of the voice. A smoke hazy appeared on a giant mushroom near her feet. The haze slowly materialized into a grinning feline with eyes the color of a lagoon.
"Hello, Alice," the cat said. "My, it has been a while."
"I'm sorry, but I do not believe we have been introduce." It is best to be polite in dreams. She went on unsteadily. "I do not know – or cannot recall your name, sir."
"Chessur." His grin grew impossibly wide.
"And you were saying…."
"You are in Underland of course, Alice. The Alice. Or An Alice. Either way."
The young woman bit her lip. "I am afraid I do not understand you. Where – what – is this place? Oh, I must surely be dreaming."
"I think not." The cat floated forward to hover just beside her shoulder. "It shall all be clear soon enough, my fair Alice. I think I know just who will bring clarity to this situation for you. If you will just follow me…."
"You know someone that will help me?"
"Oh yes,' the cat named Chessur purred magnificently before pushing past the indigent flowers.
He led her through a dim forest. It was quite foreign, nothing like the forests of Britain, or really even the tropical kinds she'd seen in National Geographic videos in class. Though, there were hints of those far-off jungles in the creeping vines of this place. Alice shuddered at the thought of all of the dangerous beasts know to rule such rain forests.
"You are not scared, are you?"
She turned to Chessur, who was carelessly drifting in the air beside her. "No, I'm not," she said without a wobble in her voice. "But a bit shocked, yes. I should think that anyone would be."
He grinned at her, tiny pointed teeth flashing. "Good. Your other self had a good deal of pluck. I'm pleased to see that you're retained it."
"What do you mean, 'other self?' I'm only ever myself, no one else."
"Have you? I disagree. We've all been someone else as some point. Can you recall your youth? Were you the same person at three as you are at twenty-three?"
He had a point. Still, she was determined.
"Yes, but that is different. I have always been Alice!"
"Oh yes," the feline agreed. "But you've not always been this Alice."
Frustrated, the-Alice-who-was gave up trying to argue. She walked in stony silence before stumbling forward on a rock just before they enter a clearing –
The opening light had been ahead of them for sometime, suggesting a departure from the forest, promising brightness and fresh air. Alice was more than ready to escape the gloom. In her haste, however, she tumbled head-first into the clearing –
Which turned out not to be a clearing, really, but a field-like place. But it wasn't empty and barren, like a field. A worn windmill sat just a little ways from the edge of the wood, looking forlorn, as though it were about to tumble down at any moment. And closer, a pavilion of sorts, of flagstone, sits before them, covered with molding Persian carpets. A pair of long tables were joined by a white (though slightly stained) cloth, and atop them sat an array of tea-time goodies. Crack cups, scones, crumpets, tiny finger sandwiches, sugar bowls bursting with cubes. Toping the scene off were a pair of animals – a greying rabbit with bulbous eyes and a tiny white mouse wearing a striking scarlet coat. Both were singing and drinking merrily. They did not pause upon Alice's entrance.
Chess landed on the table lightly, taking up a cup. From her less-than-ladylike position on the ground, Alice gaped.
"Wot er you doing, Chess?" the mouse squeaked from the muffin it was nibbling upon. "Wes didn't expect yoos until tomorrow."
"I am sorry for my premature arrival," the cat replied smoothly. "But I came across a curiosity I thought you might like to examine. A rather interesting find, if I do say so myself. Caught berating the flowers near the western wall."
The rabbit and the mouse peered over the edge of the table. A loud gasp resounds from both of them before the being assaulting the cat with questions.
"Is it her?" the mouse demanded.
"The Alice! The Alice!" the rabbit shrieked repeatedly. "Wot she doing 'ere, wot she doin' 'ere?!"
Chessur shared a put-upon look with Alice before turning back to the others. "Why don't you ask her yourself? She can speak, you know?"
The mouse hopped down from her stool, skittering across the flagstone until she was level with Alice's nose. "Are you her?" she asked. "The Alice? The Alice-who-slew-the-Jabberwocky-and-dethroned-the-Bloody-Red-Queen-Alice?"
"Oh, my," Alice said nervously. "That is a good deal of a title. I don't think I am that Alice, but I do believe I am the Alice-who-passed-all-of-her-A-levels."
Snorting the mouse waved her hand. "Just as before. She's that Alice."
The young woman in question was unsure as to whether this was a compliment or an insult. She wisely chose not to respond.
"Just as I thought," the cat said with satisfaction. "Well, Mallymkun, what shall we do with her?"
"Do with me?" At this, Alice rose abruptly, scrambling to her feet in protest. "Oh no, no. I don't want anything done with me. I'm lost, you see, or dreaming. I simply want to wake up or find my way out, nothing should be done with except possibly lunch. I'm rather tired and hungry, you see."
Amused, the three animals waited for her to finish her tirade before the mouse – Mallymkun – turned to the Chessur.
"I reckon we ought to take her to the queen, don't you?"
"Or the Hatter." The cat's eyes gleamed.
Mallymkun seemed to shudder at this suggestion. "Perhaps not him," she said uneasily. "He was awfully torn up after she left the last time. I don't think we should spring this on him –"
"Nonsense," the cat purred gleefully. "He knew her best. Besides, it will be faster to get to the Hatter's cottage than Marmoreal."
The mouse hesitated. "I don't know…"
Behind them the rabbit howled. "Get on wit it! Take her to Hatter's!"
"Thackery!" Mallymkun scolded. "You know his condition."
"They were such great friends," Chessur simpered.
"Who?" Alice interrupted. The group turned to her, surprised, almost as though they'd forgotten her existence – silly, really, when she was the subject of their debate.
"Come with me, dear." The cat floated forward, leaving her question unanswered. "We shall get you all sorted out."
Hesitant, Alice neared. Before they left the tea-table, the mouse tugged at her pantleg. "Care to lend a shoulder, luv?"
Alice scooped up the creature. Contentedly, the mouse settled on her shoulder, parting long blond strands to sit more comfortable. They walked – though, Alice was really the only one that made contact with the ground, really – quietly for sometime before the young woman dared to ask, "Where are you taking me?"
"Ta see the Hatter," the mouse replied in a hushed tone. "He lives in just east of the March Hare's house."
She does not ask who the March Hare is, nor who or what the Hatter might be. Pulling up all of what her father would call gumption, Alice strode tenderly on, anxious to see where the infernal cat was leading her.
When they reach the ramshackle cottage, Mallymkun scurried down Alice's side to perch herself on a log overlooking the house. They stood on the edge of a hill, looking down at the cottage, which rested in a kind of bottom. A stream sat aways from the Eastern side of the house. Various fruit trees were scattered about the yard. A few chickens pecked away at the dirt.
"Hatter's house," the mouse whispered in awe. "It's far more shabby than it used to be."
"When were you last here?" Chessur asked.
"Oh, neigh thirty years ago," she answered after a moment's thought. "At her ladyship's request. He was wanted at a ball or some such."
"Is he a hermit?" Alice ventured to ask. "This hatter fellow?"
The pair turned to look at her.
"No, no, not quite," Mallymkuns said hesitantly. "At least, he wasn't. Perhaps he is now."
"Should I be frightened?"
"Of Hatter? No, he's harmless. Not a kinder soul in Underland, excepting maybe the White Queen."
Alice paused before asking her next question, wondering why every monarch she'd heard mentioned had to have a sort of color association. "And he'll help me get home?"
"Oh, he'll help you," the cat confirmed. Alice was quickly learning not to trust his smile.
He started down the hill. Mallymkun followed after, leaving Alice to trail behind. She still somehow managed to be the first to reach the bright coral door. Her hand trembled before the knocker. Turning around swiftly, she found herself face-to-face with Chessur.
"I don't think he's home," she said in a rush. "It is terribly quiet."
"Quiet can be deceiving," the cat said before reaching around her with his tail to lift up the knocker. Alice moved to stop him, but it was too late. The door swung open as she was just leaning in, and she toppled forward, executing a sort of accidental somersault.
"Whit dae ye want blasted moggie?" a voice from within the dark room growled. It was coming from behind the door. "Ah cood reek ye frae a mile awa'."
Chess drifted indoors smoothly. "No need to be so hostile, Hatter. Look. I've brought you a present. "
Alice found herself faced with a pair of worn brown boots. Glancing up, all she could make out were a pair of glowing yellow-orange orbs. Against the dusty wood grain of the floor she was currently occupying, she shuddered.
Two white hands reach down to haul her up on her feet. Alice immediately drew back. She was now eye-level with a gaunt man. And what a strange looking man! Even in the dim light of the cottage, she could make out nappy orange hair and copy-paper white skin. He looked cartoonish, almost like a comic book character. Bright splashes of pink and blue and more orange surround his too-big pupils, which are framed by almost ridiculously long lashes and very bushy ginger brows, all set on an angular, gaunt face.
While she examined him, petrified, the strange man stared at her, equally shocked. When their gazes finally crossed, Alice held his odd eyes firmly. "He could very well be your ticket home," she told herself. "Be civil."
"Whit is thes?" the man finally croaked.
"It's Alice!" Mallymkun cried. She had finally made it up the steps into the house. The man's eyes flickered down to her, more surprise evident in his gaze.
"This is Alice," the cat agreed. "The Alice."
Suddenly, the man snarled. His orange eyes burned viciously. "Cannae be."
"Tis." Chessur grinned. "She's one-hundred-percent certified. Full of muchiness."
"She isnae th' same."
"People change, Tarrant," the cat sighs. "Especially after a hundred and twenty-five years."
The pale man – Tarrant or Hatter, apparently – stared a little more, his eyes swirling with color. They stop on a hopeful green. "Alice?" he whispered in a lisp.
She did not know how exactly to response. She was, after all, Alice. Or, at least, an Alice. "I don't know all of this fuss about 'the' Alice." So, with hesitation, she nodded.
"H-hello, Hatter."
He seemed to crumble before her, face melting wonderfully as he swept her into his arms, roaring, "Ah kent it! Ah kent yoo'd come back!"
When he sets her back on her feet, still pressed against his chest, he begins babbling, ignoring her blush.
"You're back! The Alice of Lore, slayer of the bloody queen and the Jabberwocky! You are, late, of course, but then again you always are. Never ten, always noon. Look a little peaked, you do. Will you take tea? We've been waiting an awfully long time. Oh, Alice! My Alice. Oh, Alice, I could say your name over and over. And you're much muchier than you were upon your last arrival. Dressed like a man, you are, in trousers and such a shirt! But it is no matter, we shall take you no matter what you wear, Alice –"
Assaulted by his excitement, Alice's head was spinning. He was going at a worrying pace. Her hands found the sides of his face of their own accord, and she spoke slowly.
"Hatter, " she began, but that seems to be enough. He stops, mid-stream, looking rather embarrassed.
"Sorry," he said, voice in a higher pitch, sounding rather pinched. "Terribly sorry. I'm fine. I'm fine."
A lisp had replaced his Scottish brogue curiously. He parts from her – only an arm's length – and squeezed her hands. "Oh Alice," he said with a sigh.
An awkward beat of silence follows.
"She doesn't remember, Hatter," Mallymkun calls up from the floor. "She's not quite the same Alice."
The Hatter peered down at the girl in her arms. Her hand were resting lightly on his forearms. She quivered against him, lips parted slightly, a hearty amount of worry apparent in her wide, dark eyes. But they were not the right eyes. The shape was all right, however, the eyes were lighter. Closer to hazel then brown. Can eyes change? Well, his did, but he is Hatter. And Alice is Alice.
"Alices are prone to change too – she never comes the same."
"You're quite different, of course. Your eyes are not quite the same color – more yellow – and your hair is far less bouncy than before, but you are without a doubt the Alice."
"She is Alice. Of course she is Alice. Who else…."
He glanced down at Mally, who was shaking her head. The mouse has hopped up on the table near his door, "She don't remember. Ask her, Hatter. Ask her is she remembers."
He did not want to ask. He simply wanted her to be Alice, remember, know. To ask. To have to ask…
Chessur curled around their feet. "He doesn't want to ask. He doesn't want to know. If she's not the same Alice, that will mean Alice didn't come back."
Hearing the words, Hatter closed his eyes. His hands tightened on Alice's waist.
"You remember, of course?" he asked her when he opens his eyes. "You remember the Frabjous Day? The White Queen? Me…?" He drifted off in a small voice.
Her hands find his. "I'm terribly sorry. I don't know…any of this. Hatter," she said timidly. "I don't know where I am right now, or who any of you are, but I was hoping maybe you could possibly…possibly help me find a way back home? I was lost, you see."
His eyes have turned a sad shade of yellow. Bleak wrinkles corned the Hatter's mouth. Hands slipped from Alice's. He retreated to the darken side of the room. Watching her, the Hatter absorbed his information. It only took a few moments for him to see.
Aside from her eyes and hair, the way she held herself struck him. This was no confident Alice of Lore. This girl was all stuck inside of herself. She folded her arms around her stomach, shoulders hunched. The timid body language caused Hatter to curl his lips. "Not so much muchness."
"She needs help, Hatter."
He rounded on Mally. "And you bring her to me? I know nothing of the worlds beyond Underland. Take her to Absolem or Miriana. I can do nothing for anyone, least of all not-Alice."
At this, Alice turned to Chess. "You said he could help me get home," she accused.
"I said no such thing," the cat replied, not the least bit affronted. "I said he would help you. And he shall."
Bending to be level with him on the floor, she hissed. "The only help I need is getting-back-home help. You promised me, Cat."
Chessur floated up from the floor. "Mallymkun," he announced. "I do believe we are no longer welcome here among our friends. We would do best to leave them to figure out their problem together. Come, my mousey friend."
Hesitant, Mally looked between the two human in the room. She could sense the tension between the confused, frightened, not-quite-right Alice and the frustrated, furious, dejected Hatter. Would leaving help anything?
"Suit yourself…." The cat began to drift away. Mally gave the Hatter one more desperate look, then followed suit. Alice stumbled forward, calling. Hatter followed them to the door, pausing at the threshold to watch the young woman.
"Please, someone must know how to help me!"
Mally turned back only once. "Chessur brought you here for a reason. The Hatter can help you."
But she did not believe them. Defeated, Alice's shoulders fell. Back in the ramshackle cottage, the Hatter retreated to his dark workroom.
-XXX-
I've loved Tim Burton's adaptation since it was first in theaters, and now that a sequel is in production I thought I'd try my hand to stave off the anticipation. This should be between three and five chapters.
Please review!