"You think that I can't see right through your eyes,
scared to death to face reality...
But where will you go,
With no one left to save you from yourself?
You can't escape the truth...
-Evanescence"
It was dark again. Not an all consuming dark nothingness this time, but the normal darkness of night, lit by the moon. The door they had come through had disappeared after Fred had followed her though and Lizzie found herself in a forest- the pungent smell of earth and decaying leaves filled her senses along with the sweet scent of what smelled like honeysuckle on a hot day. There was a path, well worn of packed hard dirt, broken here and there by the roots of enormous trees which lined the way. There were quite a few large flowers scattered about, their petals drawn together and the buds bent over on their stems. It struck Lizzie that they almost seemed to be sleeping. As they walked a purplish mist swirled around their feet. She had the strangest feeling that they were being watched – they definitely weren't in Kansas anymore, that was certain.
The moment he had climbed through the door and left the threshold of Elphyne, Fred's heart felt lighter. He almost felt like skipping up the road. A pair of insects -lightening bugs, he thought - whizzed around his head, zapping each other with miniature bolts of lightening from their tails. He heard the trees whispering something, but it was too quiet for him to make out anything – merely a ripple of leaves, stirring in the wind. Stibbler said he had come from the door. Was this where he was from? For the first time in many, many years, he tried to remember. Everything seemed achingly familiar, like a dream- just on the edge of waking. Every time he tried to think about it, it seemed to fade further until it disappeared and he was left with only the swirling mist and sounds of the night.
Lizzie kicked a rock in front of her, and it went skittering over the ground until it disappeared into the vegetation, making a hissing sound as it flew through the grass.
"Ow!" cried a small voice.
Fred and Lizzie suddenly found themselves surrounded by many pairs of bright, glowing eyes. In the moonlight, she could see that the flowers indeed must have been sleeping, for now the ones nearest them regarded her with a scowl.
"What a stupid girl, " a large, darkly colored flower said. "Kicking rocks at all hours of the night while we're trying to sleep! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Oh!" exclaimed Lizzie, surprised to find herself being berated by a plant. "I'm really sorry, I... Hey, Fred - the flower can see me!"
"Of course I can see you, what are you daft?""
"Oh, piss off!" said Fred, "Or I'll stomp on you!" He began walking closer to the flower, but Lizzie grabbed his arm to hold him back. She had an idea.
"Stop it, Fred! It's absolutely right. After all, such a beautiful flower definitely needs it's sleep." Fred looked at her like she had grown a third head, but held his tongue.
The complement worked exactly as Lizzie had hoped, for most flowers are rather vain creatures.
"I am quite beautiful, aren't I?"
"Oh, very!" answered Lizzie. "And such delicate petals on your sturdy stem."
The flower tilted it's head daintily, as if preening. "Well, I do carry myself better than most."
"I hope you'll forgive us for waking you."
"Oh, well, no harm done, my dear. Was there something you were looking for?"
"Would you happen to know where this road leads?" asked Lizzie. She wasn't sure that a flower would know such things, but it couldn't hurt to check.
"Well," replied the flower, "these are the Tulgey Woods. If you keep on this road you will reach Marmoreal, but I'm sure that damnable cat will find you before you get that far."
"Cat?" asked Fred.
"Humph! I'm not answering the likes of you, worm-dung!"
"Come on, Fred." said Lizzie, taking his hand and pulling him after her. "I'm sure there are others for you to aggravate someplace else."
After they had cleared the flowers and passed over the next hill, Lizzie broke their silence.
"So, what do you think?"
"About what?"
"About all of this," she gestured at the forest surrounding them. "Does anything seem... familiar?"
"I don't know, " he said. "I don't recognize anything. It's more of a feeling – like I should recognize something. It feels, well, it just feels right. That's not the big question, though."
"Really? What's that?"
"If this really is my home, why did I leave?"
They continued on silently, each lost in their own speculations. Lizzie, happy to be "real" again, could hardly believe this person beside her was the same 'Drop Dead Fred' of her childhood years. Being out of what she had taken for granted as his normal element, being mortal again, seemed to change him day by day. His past fascinated her even if he felt no compulsion to explore it himself. All that he once was, the person he must have been, was it hidden here, somewhere in this new realm? She thought finding the answer to that question might turn out to be considerably more exciting than returning to her dreary Earthly existence. Perhaps a detour of plans was in order.
Fred himself found the prospect of discovering his past neither fascinating nor exciting. On the contrary, his last statement haunted him more than a little. Why would he leave his home, what had happened to cause him to run to somewhere as God forsaken as Elphyne? He wished Lizzie hadn't seemed so interested in him remembering things. The good feeling he had when he arrived was slowly being superseded by the nervousness of what he might find waiting for him around the next corner. All he wanted was to find a way to get Lizzie home safely, and quickly. For the life of him, he had no idea how he was going to do that, which meant they would probably be here for more than a day or two. And then there was the fact that Lizzie actually seemed to be enjoying herself. He didn't have to feel for her emotions to figure that out – she was nearly skipping down the path. He had a sneaking suspicion she was planning on taking the long way home, regardless of what he might dredge up about himself along the way – or maybe because of it.
As they neared a tree whose branches hung low over the path, the mist which had seemed to follow them swirled up from around their ankles. It moved up and over the closest branch where it materialized into a large grayish cat. It's huge blue-green eyes blinked at them through the semi-darkness.
"Please tell me your name's not Alice, " grumbled the cat. "One is really more than enough at times."
Without waiting for her answer, the cat disappeared from the branch and reappeared a second later in front of them, causing Lizzie to jump back in surprise. From this close she could clearly see the rows of what seemed to be rather sharp teeth in his overly large mouth as he grinned at her.
"N..no..," she stammered. "I'm Lizzie, and he's Fred."
The cat merely glanced at Fred before turning back to Lizzie. If he knew him, he showed no sign.
"So...Lizzie," he purred. "is there something you're looking for?"
While he talked he had begun to float around her, occasionally flipping end over end, so that she found herself paying more attention to his movements than to what he was saying.
"Oh! I'm sorry, what did you say?"
The cat disappeared and popped back in behind her. "Do you merely enjoy wandering through the woods at night or do you have some purpose here? I daresay the intelligence of the local flora is somewhat lacking if you're looking for conversation." He glanced sideways into the woods where quiet mutters of "damn cat!" could be heard.
"Listen, Fur-ball," said Fred, "we're not interested in talking with flowers or cats. We're here to find a way to get Lizzie home and then we'll be on our way."
"Sometimes what we seek is not always what we wish to find," said the cat cryptically. "And often we find that which we did not wish to seek." The cat popped out and in again in front of Fred, and regarded him briefly with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. "As for you...I think you'd better see the Hatter first. You're quite late for tea."
With that the cat disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Lizzie looked questioningly at Fred.
"Don't ask me! Your guess is as good as mine, " he said.
The cat had reappeared further up the road and was now watching them from a distance.
"Coming?" he called.
"Well, come on, " said Fred, taking Lizzie's hand. "Apparently we're having tea."
As they followed the cat through the woods, the sky became lighter and lighter until the beautiful, if not rather peculiar, forest was wholly visible around them. Plants of every bright and vivid color imaginable surrounded them and quite a few seemed to be watching them as they passed. Lizzie wondered if this road was seldom used because of all the attention they were receiving, although she mused that if she was rooted to the same spot day after day, any activity would be exciting.
She tried not to dwell on how bits and pieces of things around them fit together oddly in her mind. Talking flowers, a grinning cat wanting to know if she was 'Alice', a Hatter. It almost sounded like..., but no that was just a silly book- not a legend or myth or anything that anyone had ever believed to be true.
After a short distance, they crested a small hill and below them in a clearing lay a most unusual sight. Towards one end of the clearing was a windmill, broken and in disrepair save the base of it which seemed to be a house of some sort. In front of the house sat a conglomerate of tables, seated end to end against each other, each being a different shape an hight and draped with white linens. The tables themselves were covered with mismatched china – cups, saucers, tea pots, and various other accouterments.
They paused at a large tree which seemed to hold great interest to Fred. He knocked on the bark a few times. Lizzie couldn't understand what was so fascinating and she told him so.
"There's a door here!" he told her.
"You'd best leave it be, " said the cat. Lizzie squinted but still saw nothing but bark.
The cat floated around to her far side, away from Fred and spoke quietly in her ear. "I don't know what has addled his brain," he said quietly, "but if you care for him, don't let him make a fool of himself down there. He may not remember anything, but the Hatter does." The cat began to dissolve from the tail upward until only his head was visible.
"Wait!" said Lizzie. "What happened? Tell me!"
"Sorry, " said the cat. "I don't get involved in domestic disputes." He disappeared completely.
Fred noticed the tables. Well, as long as he was stuck here he might as well have some fun.
"Ooo...look! A party! I luuuv parties!" He started off down the hill and made it halfway before Lizzie was able to get in front of him to hold him back.
"Wait a minute, Fred! I don't think we should do anything to draw attention to ourselves. The cat said it was a bad idea."
"Lizzie, cats just like to mess with people's heads. Come on!" He tried to move past her. Lizzie, not to be deterred, held his arms fast and looked him in the eyes.
"Fred..., " she warned.
"Fine," he grumbled. "I'll behave, come on."
As they neared the tables, they could see a mangy looking jack rabbit and a mouse who was eating an olive skewered on a tiny sword. At the far end of the table sat a young woman with long blond hair, deep in conversation with the strange looking man seated at the head of the table. Lizzie supposed he must be the Hatter. He worn a green coat with a large scarf tied at his neck. His frizzy hair fell just past his shoulders, partially concealing his face which from what showed seemed to be a ghostly white color. On his head was a large black top hat adorned with a salmon colored sash.
The hare was the first to notice their presence. He let out a crazed laugh and announced, "Guests!"
The mouse turned her attention to them. "Well hello, dearies!" she exclaimed. "You must excuse the mess. It's been ages since we've had outsiders to tea... Hatter!"
The pair at the end of the table seemed to be too preoccupied with staring into each other's eyes to notice anything else. The mouse yelled again, "Hatter!" in a voice surprisingly loud for such a small creature.
The man in the hat at last turned towards the mouse. "What is it, Mally?" he said with a soft lisp. "We were just discussing..."
His eyes which had been focused on the mouse glanced up at Fred. The teacup he had been holding fell from his hand and broke as it hit the table. He stared at Fred as he rose from his chair. Lizzie looked at Fred and back at the Hatter whose eyes had changed from their original green to an odd amber color. Fred instinctively pulled Lizzie behind him as the man advanced on him and addressed him in thick brogue..
"Y'd best have a bloody good excuse for standin' at m' tea table, ye slurkin'..."
"Tarrant!" The girl had risen from the table and now went to his side, placing her hand softly on his arm. The instant she touched him, green flooded back into his irises, leaving only a thin ring of yellow around them. "What's wrong? Who are these people?"
Tarrant shook his head as if clearing his mind. "I'm sorry, Alice," he said with only a hint of accent. "Apparently we're having tea with ghosts today."
He moved back to his seat, picked up his broken teacup, and studied it sadly before setting it down gently.
Lizzie moved back beside Fred. "We're terribly sorry to have bothered you, sir," she said. "but Fred doesn't remember anything about his past or this place...at all."
The Hatter looked up and regarded Lizzie calmly for a moment and then turned to Fred. "You don't know who I am?"
"Um..I'm afraid not," said Fred. "and though it does seem to be a splendid tea party you have going on here, I think we'll just piss off now."
The Hatter ignored Fred. "If you don't remember me, then I'll show you the last place I remember you! Come with me." He walked away from the table towards the windmill house. Neither Fred nor Lizzie made a move to follow. "I can make you follow, or you can do so of your own accord. I suggest the latter."
Alice came over to them. "I'm sorry, " she said. "he's rarely like this anymore, but when he is, it's best not to upset him further. Don't worry, I'll come with you."
The Hatter led Lizzie, Fred, and Alice to a path Alice recognized as the one she had been on long ago- riding on the brim of a hat. She ran to catch up with Tarrant, knowing this was not an easy road for him to travel, and clasped his hand in hers.
Lizzie and Fred followed Alice and the Hatter several paces back. Fred reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled along by Lizzie whose anxious anticipation at the possibility of solving one piece of his puzzled history was nearly palatable. Fred felt slightly nauseous. His hand in Lizzie's was clammy and he wished he could wipe it off, but that would mean letting go of hers and right now she was the only thing keeping him from running off – away from the freak in the hat who claimed to know him.
Lizzie didn't know what to think. She was now positive she knew where they were, but some things were very...different. She kept her observations to herself as now didn't seem to be the best time to strike up a conversation with either person in front of her. If this was indeed Wonderland (and how weird it felt just thinking that!), and the Alice, then she was considerably older than in the stories. Hadn't she been six or seven when she had fallen down that rabbit hole? It had been a while, but Lizzie didn't remember anything about her staying there, nor did she recall getting any impressions of future romantic entanglements between Alice and the Mad Hatter either, though she supposed that this Alice must be in her early twenties now. She watched them, their heads inclined slightly towards each other as they walked closely, hand in hand. They seemed very much in love. Lizzie realized absently that her and Fred's hands were clasped together as well, though palm to palm only, as one would hold a child's hand. She wondered fleetingly what it would feel like to interlace her fingers in his. She shook her head, wondering where that idea had come from.
The path they took gradually opened until it became a wide road, the branches of the trees arching high above it in a canopy of green. For such a large thoroughfare it seemed rarely traveled, and the ground was covered by a thick carpet of leaves – unmoved where they had fallen. It was here that the Hatter led them off the main road and into the woods. The trees here were much younger and it was plain to see that where they now stood had once been a large clearing. Remnants of many houses stood crumbling and broken amidst the tall grasses. Of the larger trees still standing, many were broken off halfway up their trunks and several showed signs of fire damage. They continued to follow him past the houses and deeper into the forest until they came to another clearing, this one larger even than the first, and Lizzie saw that they had entered a very old, but very populated cemetery of sorts. Dozens upon dozens of markers, some wooden planks, some merely large stones, and others tablets with names engraved upon them, told of the dead buried beneath them. Tarrant led them past these marked graves towards the far end of the clearing. Here the sod rose in 2 large rectangular sections, each approximately seven feet wide and what had to be hundreds of feet long. They looked suspiciously like mass graves to Lizzie, the kind seen in documentaries of the darker days of Earth's affairs. If they were, she shuddered to think of what could have killed so many so quickly. Past these stood a solitary tombstone, unreadable from their distance.
The Hatter stopped abruptly, turned, and walked back to where Fred was standing. Grabbing his arm, Tarrant hauled Fred over to the stone and threw him roughly to the ground before it.
"I'd say that I buried ya' myself, but I didn't find any pieces!"
Upon the marker was etched the name 'Frederick Hightopp'.
