TWO GODS OVER ME
PART I: Father
by the Lemon Goddess
"American McGee's Alice" and all related concept are © Electronic Arts
and, er, American McGee. Dedicated to my Cheshire Cat, whoever and
wherever he may be.
She was always so clever, my Alice. At eight years of age her
imagination was so keen, her mind so developed, that I often found
myself far more content to speak with her than to any of the more
learned men of my profession.
What astonished me most of all was her creativity and wit, her ability
to conjure up the most fanciful tales for her own amusement. On
occasion, she would permit me to listen in on her childhood adventures.
"... and because he had killed Time when he was singing for the Queen
of Hearts, Time stood still for him forever."
"That must have been dreadful for the Hatter," I sympathized,
delighting in her mock adult poise as she told the story very gravely
to me.
"It didn't seem so to me," she replied thoughtfully. "You see, it
stood still at four o'clock, and so it was always teatime for him.
When I met him, on my way from the Duchess--" Here she paused for a
moment. "I DID tell you about the Duchess, didn't I?"
I nodded. "Yes, indeed. She had the frightful baby who became a pig."
"Yes. Well, when I met him, he and his two friends, a March Hare and
a Dormouse, had set up a great tea table, and would move around it as
their tea grew cold."
"A MARCH hare?" I inquired.
Alice nodded solemnly. "He was also mad. As a hare in March, you
see."
I laughed. "Of course." My teacup and saucer rested on a thick book
of Greek and Roman mythology, which I occasionally read to Alice when
she grew weary of telling her own stories to me. Setting down my
teacup on another table and picking up the book, I asked, "Do you want
to read more about Apollo and Cassandra?"
"Miss Rutledge says it isn't proper to read about mythical gods,
Father." She said this reluctantly, inspecting her shoes as she did
so. "She says they are blasphemous, because they're false gods."
"And yet you learn about many things in your history books that are
false, as well. You should know better than anyone, my Alice, that
even fairy stories have their morals." I patted my knee, and Alice
hopped down from her chair and climbed up into my lap, placed between
myself and the book.
"What Miss Rutledge doesn't want you to know is that there were TWO
such gods present on the day you were born." I smoothed a page down
gently. "There was Neptune, the god of the sea, whose planet is one
of life and benevolence ... and Jupiter himself, king of all the gods,
a being of great strength."
I watched Alice's tiny finger trace over the emblems of the planet ...
the trident of Neptune, the oddly-curving "4" shape of Jupiter. "They
were here for me?" she asked quietly.
"They gave you wonderful gifts, my dear. They gave you strength and
kindness ... and the knowledge to know when to exercise each. I am
sure your friends in Wonderland saw this in you as well."
Alice sat, fascinated, her hand still tracing the symbols. I smiled
and kissed her forehead, holding her close.
"If you remember those two things above all, Alice ... your strength
and your kindness ... nothing can ever harm you."
She fell asleep in my arms, and I tucked her into bed. I imagined her,
as all parents imagine their children at some point, as an adult, her
childish fantasies still shadowing and guiding her as she took on the
world and made it her own.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
PART I: Father
by the Lemon Goddess
"American McGee's Alice" and all related concept are © Electronic Arts
and, er, American McGee. Dedicated to my Cheshire Cat, whoever and
wherever he may be.
She was always so clever, my Alice. At eight years of age her
imagination was so keen, her mind so developed, that I often found
myself far more content to speak with her than to any of the more
learned men of my profession.
What astonished me most of all was her creativity and wit, her ability
to conjure up the most fanciful tales for her own amusement. On
occasion, she would permit me to listen in on her childhood adventures.
"... and because he had killed Time when he was singing for the Queen
of Hearts, Time stood still for him forever."
"That must have been dreadful for the Hatter," I sympathized,
delighting in her mock adult poise as she told the story very gravely
to me.
"It didn't seem so to me," she replied thoughtfully. "You see, it
stood still at four o'clock, and so it was always teatime for him.
When I met him, on my way from the Duchess--" Here she paused for a
moment. "I DID tell you about the Duchess, didn't I?"
I nodded. "Yes, indeed. She had the frightful baby who became a pig."
"Yes. Well, when I met him, he and his two friends, a March Hare and
a Dormouse, had set up a great tea table, and would move around it as
their tea grew cold."
"A MARCH hare?" I inquired.
Alice nodded solemnly. "He was also mad. As a hare in March, you
see."
I laughed. "Of course." My teacup and saucer rested on a thick book
of Greek and Roman mythology, which I occasionally read to Alice when
she grew weary of telling her own stories to me. Setting down my
teacup on another table and picking up the book, I asked, "Do you want
to read more about Apollo and Cassandra?"
"Miss Rutledge says it isn't proper to read about mythical gods,
Father." She said this reluctantly, inspecting her shoes as she did
so. "She says they are blasphemous, because they're false gods."
"And yet you learn about many things in your history books that are
false, as well. You should know better than anyone, my Alice, that
even fairy stories have their morals." I patted my knee, and Alice
hopped down from her chair and climbed up into my lap, placed between
myself and the book.
"What Miss Rutledge doesn't want you to know is that there were TWO
such gods present on the day you were born." I smoothed a page down
gently. "There was Neptune, the god of the sea, whose planet is one
of life and benevolence ... and Jupiter himself, king of all the gods,
a being of great strength."
I watched Alice's tiny finger trace over the emblems of the planet ...
the trident of Neptune, the oddly-curving "4" shape of Jupiter. "They
were here for me?" she asked quietly.
"They gave you wonderful gifts, my dear. They gave you strength and
kindness ... and the knowledge to know when to exercise each. I am
sure your friends in Wonderland saw this in you as well."
Alice sat, fascinated, her hand still tracing the symbols. I smiled
and kissed her forehead, holding her close.
"If you remember those two things above all, Alice ... your strength
and your kindness ... nothing can ever harm you."
She fell asleep in my arms, and I tucked her into bed. I imagined her,
as all parents imagine their children at some point, as an adult, her
childish fantasies still shadowing and guiding her as she took on the
world and made it her own.
TO BE CONTINUED ...