Alice Beyond the Shadow-Downs
I. Dawn
Alice made two very important discoveries while stopping to see the dawn from her favorite view on the grassy knoll: the first was that her new floral-green skirt had a knack for hiding grass stains if she slid at just the right angle; the second was that the dawn had been proving to a be a much shier light than usual on this particular morning. "It still must be very offended at me from last week," she pondered, "but you did deserve a good talking to after all," she said loudly to the pale, orange colors that began to peek over the hills. "Yes and I do see you behind there so come out otherwise the world won't be having its breakfast!" She made a point to lay her hands upon her hips the way her mother always did when she was late to afternoon lessons.
"Now I clearly remember telling you last week that you shouldn't shine in my eyes so early in the morning. You know very well that it's the summer and four o'clock in the morning is no time to burn my eyes while you show off for yourself." She paused to read the dawn (she knew its moods through its colors) before she spoke again. "Now getting red and angry won't do you a bit of good! I know some very dark nimmies that would love to cover you right up, and they will listen to me." She had only yesterday learned of the classifications of clouds and weather patterns and had shortened "cumulonimbus" to "nimmies" for ease of learning. In truth, she had come to see the dawn in order to demonstrate her new lessons. There were not a great many others in the world who cared to listen to a little girl rattle off such facts, in which she really knew very little. "Well going back to orange isn't good enough now, you awful Dawn!" she continued with folded arms, "Even the sun must apologize when it's been silly. If you don't I won't be coming back for a whole two weeks to see you! It is already hard enough to avoid that old nurse in order to get out, you know." She began to tap her foot on the grass.
Alice waited ten minutes before the pinks of apologies appeared in gentle waves. "That's a good dawn," she kneeled down and patted the lit grass that began to creep toward her small shoes. "It is a dreadful thing to have to call the nimmies. They talk an awful lot with their pitter-patter of…of…" here she waited for the word, "precipitation! Yes, that's it, Dawn. And they think we girls look better wet than dry, which is impossible to understand so I suppose I should thank you for preferring me dry. And do you know of any thing that looks so delighted to be dripping, Dawn? Because I'm sure you see a great deal farther than I do. No, most things prefer to be dry I'm sure of it, especially the grass. The grass seems so very down on wet days and no matter how much I insist that father should bring them all inside so that they can warm themselves by the fire, he won't listen!"
Alice placed herself down upon the hill and unruffled her skirt so that every printed flower would catch the sunlight. "Between you and me," she began (which was a bit silly to say, for the Dawn could only hear her when she spoke loudly) I think father and the nimmies are on the same side. He must like things very miserable. He's always checking his watch or walking to and fro. There aren't many friends to call on him, Dawn. It's all business, business, business!" she tried to lower her voice to sound like her father.
"But how many blades of grass there must be! So I suppose if you light and dry them all you must have many friends, Dawn. What if I had a friend for every blade of grass?" she began to wonder to herself, "There wouldn't be enough tea to share with them at once, and I would certainly need to sleep at some time. Oh, I don't suppose I would be able to give enough time for all of them to be happy would I? Unless they wouldn't want much from me, that is. If they needed just a curtsey and a smile of "how are you today?" I might have enough time to see them all and be back for dinner!" here Alice picked herself up and began to curtsey to every blade of grass that caught her eye.
She went on for almost ten more minutes before her ankles began to waver and her neck grew a bit sore. "Oh it's too much!" she wiped her forehead. "There is such a thing as too many friends after all then! I wonder what my limit of friends would have to be? I would hate to have to tell a new person I met who was very kind to me, 'No, I'm so sorry but I just reached my limit of friendships! If only I had met you last week!' that would be an awful moment wouldn't it? I would need to make a waiting list of sorts! Oh, how do you do it, Dawn? Every blade of grass is so patient with you. Would grass make better friends you think? But I would need to give them all something." She was pleased to find a new opportunity to recite her knowledge. "It's a cycle if I remember correctly: you give them light and the nimmies give them water so they make the air we breathe. But they should need something for us in return. Ah that's it! They need our breath to make more air!" Now very pleased with herself, Alice rolled along the hillside blowing on every patch of dewy green that approached her lips. "Now there's plenty for all!" she patted the grace the same as she patted Dinah back home, "Don't push each other!"
By this time the sun had stepped boldly above the hillside to join his rolling partner in the great nourishing cycle of nature. "Now we have a side of our own don't we, Dawn?" Alice smiled towards the sky. "The dew can come in the mornings and those nimmies can find someone else to be miserable with!" She had raised herself up by now and was facing away from the sun.
"Why there's my shadow today!" Alice waved at her shade that stood along the hillside; it waved back at the same instant. "And I see you're wearing a new dress just like mine as well. Well now, Shadow, can't you do anything novel? But your dress isn't able to be dirtied at all I think, so you've got me there. But I knew you couldn't miss seeing the Dawn with me. You of all people should know that sunrises are better with company. Look, I've made some very nice friends for us today." She picked up a fair amount of grass and threw it about her, watching it dance back to the ground. Her shadow seemed just as excited as she, and soon it stood waiting for Alice's next movement.
"Why you've got some shadow-grass of your own don't you now, Shadow? Well I hope you can breathe because you'll need to give them as much breath as possible to keep them happy. Although I wonder if shadow-grass truly needs anything!" Alice paused to consider what shadow-nature should be like. "Well I suppose animals and people couldn't be that colorful there, no offense to you shadow. I think the fashion would be more about shapes than colors wouldn't you say so?" she twirled enough to let her skirt fluff out and watched her shadow grow wider for only a moment. "And a good point would be that you would never ever get the sun in your eyes!" she nodded assuredly, "That must be nice on the days you want to sleep. But do shadows even sleep?"
Now Alice's curiosity and grown so much so that the matter could not be dropped. She noticed her shadow had placed its hand on its chin in thought. "Are you wondering about me too, Shadow? Well I have just the thing! My old nurse will be having fits if I don't start heading home at the moment, but we'll have a lovely race around the hill beforehand. If I win, you'll have to follow me home. But if you win, you can lead the way. Now Shadow won't this be fun? You'll have to do some stretches first, you know! I have seen a shadow get cramps before."
Alice and her shadow touched their toes a few times before lining up together on the side of the small, grassy hill. "I'm on the outside of the hill on this side," she began explaining to the shade, who was kneeling onto the starting spot, "but you'll be on the outside when we go around, and I'll even let you start a little in front of me because you should know I'm very fast, so it's only perfectly fair. The sun can judge us to make sure no one cheats. Ready, Shadow? One. Two. Three!"
Alice felt as though she had a magnificent start, one of her best in fact, but there was no time to celebrate. Her shadow had kept the lead only barely before they came to the sharp turn. Now the shadow was directly in front, advancing quickly with tall strides. "Now growing taller isn't part of the rules!" she huffed, "the sun will have to give you a penalty!" As they rounded the next turn, Alice found herself on the inside lane of the hill and much ahead of her rival. Soon, she felt well enough ahead to skip a few paces, just to rub it in, before sprinting off over the swaying grass and on to the last key bend. Had they started the race around the corner, Alice was sure she would have won without question. However, as the finish line was a few paces more, the shadow had taken the inside line once again and barely passed Alice before both tumbled over, panting face-down in a bed of grass that Alice knew was only so happy to receive their breath for their natural cycle.
"Racing your shadow should be very good practice," Alice thought between huffs, "but how difficult! I think if I should ever teach children to exercise I would say, 'Now when you can beat your shadow in a race, you're in fit, fit shape!' But you shouldn't race at noon; that would be just too easy. But that's all over now."
By this point Alice had grown tired of her own little game and was up again dusting herself off and checking to make sure none of her colorful patterns were too stained. "Well it's off to home I should think," she sighed and lifted her foot towards the proper direction. That is, she tried to lift her foot to the proper direction; in truth her feet remained fixed on the ground.
"Why hello feet? Have you decided to stop moving today? I wonder if I've pushed you too hard this morning," and Alice thought how long it would take for her legs to feel rested again. She looked to her shadow and found it shaking a rather shaded-finger at her as if she'd done something quite bad. "Oh so you do want to take me somewhere!" Alice asked; her shadow nodded. "Well it isn't too cold where I'm going is it? I haven't brought a coat or gloves." The shadow waved its hands in the negative and seemed to motion as best it could that things were quite warm and comfortable. And before Alice could respond, she found herself falling ever so slowly forward, and the shadow ever so slowly forward. "Ah I see," said Alice, "well if we are switching places, you'll have to do all my lessons for me, so please do well. And don't forget to give poor little Dinah some milk when you walk back inside. She drinks an awful lot too." By now the shadow was well off the ground and had passed through her. Before long she was lying on the ground and growing very dark; the grass seemed very warm on Alice's back before she felt each patch of green gently push itself painlessly through her body and through her arms.
Her lovely green dress had become a dark black, and still flowed in its unique shape. The ruffles of cloth soon disappeared as it dipped below the ground and took the imprint of the waving grass of the hill. She found her arms had done the same but were still very much themselves and very solid. "Why it's as though I've been stamped onto the hillside!" Alice marveled to herself and touched her shadowy cheeks that twisted between her fingers as though she were touching the tips of the grass. She saw that her Shadow-self was doing the same.
"Now if I was on the real-countryside in that world," she looked up to where she had started her fall, "I wonder if the shadow-countryside should be any different." And Alice marched away down the hillsides, her former-shadow (Alice like to call it her "New-self" as it had become very colorful in the real-country) walking above her, with each new tangle of grass tickling her neck, cheeks and arms as though she were exploring a pathless jungle.
Indeed a great many things felt very different to her. She was pleased to find that her feet never lost its footing for they landed exactly in the same spot as her New-self's feet, "so now I never have to make sure where I step I suppose, and that's a nice thing as long as New-self doesn't trip," she thought happily. Her balance was never in any danger as she continually felt as though she were lying down either on her side, back or stomach. It was very similar to the little game she played at home when her nurse would shout, "Alice, my dear! Now you have to get up and come to the drawing room for your change!" and Alice would roll onto the carpet and manage to "walk" on her side from her bed to the drawing room without having to get up; the only difference was that "walking" was much easier here with New-self's feet to use as a stepping stone. "I should have known that shadows are always lying down or leaning on something," Alice reasoned. "and walking with the grass on your side is certainly comfortable! I should remember that for my shadow when I go back."
She felt very relieved that she could twist and turn and move her arms left and right, up and down, like any normal person, although she found if she tried to grasp any sticks or twigs from the real-country, her hands grasped their solid shadows, while her former shadow grasped the real twigs.
Another difference that struck Alice immediately after grabbing a particular stick was that shadow-things had a knack for talking quite loudly: "Oh dear! Oh my! Help! Help!" the thing began to shout, "Lost it. Lost! They're gone! What have you done with them?"
"What I have done with what?" Alice stammered, trying to come to grips with both the stick in her hand and the notion that they could talk. It was clearly no use, the stick only wept louder as Alice shook it around the air to dry its tears and then attempted to draw on the ground with it.
"Yes that's it! No, let's try over there! I'm looking for you my little ones!" the stick shouted as it waved through the shadow-grass. "No! We've tried there, go that way!"
Alice felt very unappreciated, "If you won't tell me what we're looking for, I should just snap you and leave!"
"My leaves!" the twig moaned much too loudly.
"You'll have to lose leaves sometime," Alice ventured to say.
"They weren't too loose at any time!" the stick pouted, "I take care of them constantly as I expect you take care of yours. What are you? Your leaves are quite prickly. Fir? Or Pine?"
"Girl hair," Alice responded, "but I don't think they can be leaves at all."
"Of course they are! You're a ginkgo tree of course, although a strange one at that. What kind of tree doesn't know it can be a tree?"
"I don't know," Alice looked on wistfully, very much sorry to have picked up the thing in the first place.
"Well most Irish trees for one," said the twig shortly, "but you have no excuse, my dear. Now help me find those leaves! Or if not, you can share some of yours."
A new thought struck Alice as the twig began to mumble to itself in another frantic search. "Well if her shadow leaves have no colors, then how will she know they're leaves at all?" With this in mind, Alice placed her shadowy hand over the stick just enough for it to see that its slender leaves had once again returned to their proper place. "Now here they are you silly twig!" she chastised, "they were there all along; they just don't droop enough for you to see!"
"Oh my, my! A fair set of leaves they still are!" it praised itself, "I wasn't looking forward to taking yours you know. Ginkgos are too ancient for my liking."
Alice was determined not to go anywhere without at least some measure of gratitude in return: "Well I keep mine and you yours. But before I let you go, you must tell me where a nice place to visit is. I'm very new here and –oh! Oh dear!" Before she could finish, she found that she had raised the stick passed her shoulder and launched the wailing twig far off down the hillside. "Oh dear my New-self must have been done with it and threw it away," Alice reasoned, "Well I've never thrown anyone away in mid-conversation, but I am happy to be free from such a silly search," and Alice picked up her shadow-skirt above her knees before skipping in the opposite direction towards a hill that only continued to grow brighter with the rising sun.