Chapter Four: The Even More Tragic Madness of Cheshire

WARNING (PLEASE READ): This chapter contains a bit of language (just like the last chapter did).

Cheshire and Nivens McTwisp walked the road realizing that they had wondered into an unknown part of the woods.

"Well," Nivens said, realizing that he did not recognize the surroundings. "I'm a bit of a loss. Cheshire, this is your expertise."

The cat smiled and moved into his smoke and expanded through great lengths. Cheshire started to humming a little tune to himself, he even started doing a ballet type of dance with the air as if he were on a stage doing his critically acclaimed performance of The Nutcracker, with himself as the lead. Nivens watched the spectacle that Cheshire made for himself, the rabbit smiled and said to himself:

"Good ol' Chess, always in the mood for a laugh."

"I think I see the castle from here Nivens!" Cheshire called. Nivens looked up at his friend and saw that Cheshire was floating in the air, above the trees, his paw over his eyes as if he were Vespucci or Magellan.

"Which way?" Nivens asked. Cheshire floated back down rather angelic like as if he were descending from the neither way.

"Towards the east," Cheshire said, "if we hurry we can make it just in time for supper."

"Well," Nivens replied with a smile, "that's promising." He pulled out a lemon cake and offered Cheshire one. The cat shook his head, "I will have a cinnamon roll though." He said. Nivens handed him one. They sat down on the ground and ate their snack.

"So," Nivens said trying to spark conversation, "there has been a question about you that has been boggling my mind ever since out encounter with the Hatter, do you mind if I ask you?"

"Please." Cheshire said eating his roll.

Nivens nodded and prepared himself, for the question that he was going to ask was sure to do one of two things: provoke Cheshire or amuse him. Nivens was hoping for a nice middle ground because he admitted, the question was sensitive and rather personal.

"Cheshire," Nivens began, "what caused your madness, if anything that is, were born with it or did something traumatize you like in Hatter's case?"

Cheshire stopped himself from eating the last bite of his roll, the cat lowered his ears and drooped a bit, he sighed. "My complex mental state is extremely harrowing."

"Really? How so, if I may question you further?" Nivens asked. He didn't want specifics now, he just wanted to know the extent of Cheshire's pain, or at least, his perceived pain, for sometimes, Cheshire can go into brief hypochondriac periods and when he went into said periods, he became almost unbearable. For Cheshire was the type of hypochondriac who believed that he was in constant pain all the time whenever those periods would occur.

"No you may not question me further!" Cheshire yelled. "My mentality is mine, do you understand, it's my head, it's my head, it's my head!"

"You're behaving like a spoiled little girl." Nivens said, "Rather unlike you Cheshire, perhaps you need to lay down."

"I do not need to lay down," Cheshire said forcefully, "I need to find Mr. Bishop!"

"Yes, that Bishop fellow," Nivens said recalling the reason why they were taking this venture, "it seems to me that we're going to have to ask around, for someone has to have seen him somewhere."

"Yes quiet right," Cheshire said calming down. "Sorry for the violent behavior just now," the cat said rather meekly, "it's just madness does that to me."

"Which is why we need to talk about it Cheshire, we cannot go about our lives playing checkers and eating cake. We have to talk about serious matters, your madness, whether you like or not is a serious matter."

"Serious matters dear Nivens are people's own madness to which they must deal with themselves." Cheshire remarked.

"If you go about your life in a lonely state of mind then yes, it will become your own serious matter, but at the moment it is my serious matter also. So talk about it Cheshire. Talk about your madness."

Cheshire nodded, realizing that the only way to get Nivens off his back was to give in. Who knows, the cat thought, it might help.

"My madness begins with my father." Cheshire said. "He was a-a-a-a-a-abusive. Sorry, there are some words that haunt me."

Nivens nodded, "Understandable. Continue." Cheshire nodded and did so:

"He was always disappearing in times of need, always reappearing when trouble hit. Whenever I was in the room he would scream at me, curse my name and call me a: pitiful fucking excuse for a son. Simply cruel that man, but that's not why I became mad. No, if I became mad because of an insult, then I would've been cured long ago. Sadly, my disease carried far more personal than that. You see, my mother wasn't necessarily the loving and caring type either. She was nicer than my father but she didn't like me very much. One day, I saw her talking with my father about moving someplace else, for we were living fairly comfortably in what is now my tree which I regularly hang my head- laugh!"

Nivens smiled, but he didn't laugh, watching carefully as Cheshire described the details of his retched childhood, he too took some mental notes and they went something like this:

One of the many problems with Cheshire is that he has too many of them. For one thing he has bipolar disorder, which he'll say 'is of the second type, do not confuse the two'. He can also suffer from my condition which I have been told by Cheshire and others that it is murderous psychopathy. I still have no idea what that means even after multiple explanation. Anyway, Cheshire's madness began according to him with what he's telling me now when his parents committed suicide in front of his eyes. How awful that must be! "Grave pity for you Cheshire. Is there-

anything I can do for you?" Nivens asked.

Cheshire shook his head, "No it's alright Nivens," he cried a bit but not as deep as Nivens had done, for Cheshire had been mostly over the news, and had come to accept it. "I'm fine."

"You don't look it." Nivens answered.

Cheshire smiled, "I'm fine Nivens."

"No you're not!" Nivens cried, "You're obviously still grieving over them or else you wouldn't be telling me this sob story!"

"You forget you little puny thing," Cheshire said getting into Nivens' face, "that you brought up the conversation."

"I only meant it in goodwill." The rabbit replied. "You took it to a 'you' fest."

"A 'me' fest?" Cheshire asked, a bit confused, "what are you talking about?"

"It's all about you, me, me, me, fuck you!" Nevins said.

"Nivens, what has gotten into you!" Cheshire cried a bit distraught for the rabbit had never said that particular choice word to him before.

"You have Cheshire! You and you're pitiful sad existence has gotten to me." Nivens shouted, he began to pace, "I'm sorry that your sister was killed, I'm sorry that your parents hung themselves from the very tree limbs that you call home, and I'm sorry that your best friend is yelling at you right now just for doing what he asked of you but guess what you deranged lunatic, you're not the only with problems!"

"Perhaps we need to sleep," Cheshire advised, "it is getting late and soon a Bandersnatch will be coming this way if we don't get to safety."

Nivens sighed in annoyance, picked up the basket and followed Cheshire into the woods.

Nivens can apparently build a suitable fire. He started gathering the tender, the kenneling, and the right amount of fuel. It took a half an hour but it was worth it. Nivens and Cheshire sat down for some cooked carrots and bread for dinner. After the meal was had, the happy stories told, and the songs sung, Nivens fell asleep. Cheshire smiled as he watched his friend sleep and thought of a free verse poem in his head:

For Nivens, by Cheshire, his friend and cohort in mischief:

Oh you wonderful presumption

Oh how you amaze me.

Happiness, even in desperate madness can be found in you

As if you were perfectly sane.

You are perfectly sane,

There is nothing wrong with you Nivens,

Your family is safe, I know,

I see them every night.

I smile and wave my tail,

Your son seems to take a liking to me.

He tells me secrets

Of what the neither way is like.

He says that the place is wonderful

That no Bandersnatches or Red Queens reside there

For those creatures are not of that place. He tells me.

Sleep soundly by the fire you made oh Nivens,

Sweet friend who bakes.

Your wife smiles at you every morning,

And prays for your safety every night.

She still loves you Nivens, and she will wait for you.

As for me, I am haunted by my madness.

It claims and takes me like a storm.

I cannot escape it like you.

I need you to help me Nivens.

For I believe that in order for this escapade to continue,

I need to be free of my madness

At least, in part, on its massive hold on me.

If I continue like this, constant madness,

Then I fear I shall go to the neither way

Before my time comes.

I need you to help me Nivens.

If I die mad tonight,

Which that could be a possibility

Then I don't want to be alone.

I'm glad I'm not though.

Bless you Nivens,

You wonderful presumption.

Cheshire, satisfied with his poem, purred himself to sleep thinking about his friend, tea, and Miss Alice who to him, was still eight years old, in a blue dress, asking sweetly for directions.

"Well that depends greatly on where you want to get to." Cheshire said to himself.

You have your own answer to that Cheshire, if anything, you wish to be for at least a moment, sane. But alas! There is no road to get there. No matter, controlled madness will have to do.