"Facts Concerning the Strange Case of Wonderland"
Doctor Aaron Augustus Bennett's Personal Journal, November 27, 1870
I find it disconcerting still not that Alice seems to be conscious at random intervals, but that Nurse Duckett always seems to know when these periods come and go. It is entirely possible that my colleague has drilled some sort of a routine into her that leads her to devote more of her time patrolling Alice's doorstep than she does with any other patient, which is something I will have to verify, I think. No matter what, it is clear that Alice was once again, awake today. As before, I had been keeping my mixture, tested on the good Mister Fredericks to be certain of its effectiveness, ready, along with my pocket watch on my person.
Nurse Duckett stirred me and we made our way down to the unfortunates ward. Daniel and Dean Rutledge were mopping the floors, though Nurse Duckett surreptitiously informed me that they were only pretending to do so.
Upon entering, I saw that Alice was not only awake, but she was pacing the room in a circle, her bare feet slapping quite rudely on the stone at regular intervals. It didn't take me long to see that she was walking to the ticking of my watch, which I found ridiculous, as surely she could not have been keeping time to a watch that wasn't in the room before.
With a soft, almost crystalline voice, she was singing a nursery rhyme:
Tick, tock, goes the clock
hanging on the wall.
Tick, tock, goes the clock,
telling time to all.
Tick, tock, goes the clock,
it is time to die.
Tick, tock, goes the clock,
no more lullabies.
She stopped upon completing her little rhyme and crossed her arms as she peered at us through the strands of her hair.
"Mary. Aaron. How nice of you to visit."
"The correct form of address is Doctor Bennett," I sternly reminded her, "Or, simply doctor."
"I am so very glad that this isn't a Caucus Race." Alice said, a term, again that Nurse Duckett had to correct, as I misunderstood it (it sounded like she was saying "carcass race.") "I don't suppose you came to inquire about my health?"
"I'm afraid not, Miss Alice." Nurse Duckett said, having somehow found the audacity to speak out of turn, "However, this, I must ask, with Doctor Bennett's permission: would you like a cup of tea?"
The word that I resolved to have with Nurse Duckett in that instant would, strangely enough, devolve into her giving me a suggestion that I found to be very sound. Tea.
"No." Alice said. She hung her head. "Do I have to drink the medicine again?"
"Yes." I said, "It is for your benefit, I assure you."
"You are madder than I thought." Alice said, shaking her head, "I am tired. I want to sleep. Why can't I sleep, doctor? My doctor seemed to have an idea, near the end."
"You are rarely awake, Alice."
"I am rarely asleep. There is a difference, you know."
"Then what do you call this?"
Alice cast a cursory glance around the room.
"This is a tiring dream. There is no rest here, only the screaming. I do not like this place. I want to be away from it."
"That is not possible at the moment, I'm afraid. But, in time…"
She held out her hand.
"The medicine, if you please."
I raised an eyebrow at her sudden surrender to my intentions, but I complied. Alice took the small bottle, sat on her bed and drank it without a word. I took out my watch as Nurse Duckett drew closer the chair and prepared to transcribe the conversation. It took nary a minute for her to, as before, lose herself in the steady ticking. Fearing that I would further her already apparently unstable condition tonight, I began.
"Alice, can you hear me?"
"Yes. I can hear everyone. Every, single…" her voice trailed off.
"Who else can you hear, Alice?"
"All my friends… everyone… every creature, big and small, even those that tend to crawl…"
"Alice, can you hear Wonderland?"
She violently shook her head.
"During our last conversation, you mentioned not being able to go there. Are you still being kept out?" I asked.
"I don't know where Wonderland is anymore. Or where it was. Or if it was, really - it's all terribly confused."
"But you can hear it?"
"I hear it calling… I hear it calling to me, in the distance, far and wee, calling for me… come, come, it says, come and play."
I was about to speak when Alice leapt to her feet.
"But I haven't the toys to play their game, I haven't what I need." She threw her arms up, as if in protest, "Between these walls and being trapped in them with that twisted, malevolent madman and his minions, questioned, questioned, all useless questions, the wrong questions!"
She grabbed me by my shoulders, which prompted Nurse Duckett to move, but I gestured for her to be still.
"I have a riddle!" she announced gleefully, "How is a fire like a lottery!? That one's easy: the ones that do not get picked are left with nothing!"
I was stunned, rendered speechless by her outburst.
"Hieronymous knew." She almost hissed, "He knew, and all he wanted to do with the knowing of this, was to flee. To run, as if there was somewhere to run to. There wasn't. There isn't. For any of us."
She sobbed. She started to weep openly, blubbering, her hands constantly wiping her eyes. She looked so much like a lost, confused child. I wasn't even certain that she was mesmerized any longer. When she shot a shy, almost hesitant glance at me through her hair, however, her eyes informed that indeed, she was still under the influence of the hypnosis. But she had nevertheless acknowledged for the second time that she was aware of what had happened, the fire that had claimed her home and family. I found this extremely curious, as I had presumed that her ailment was to do with not being able to face this fact. What she said after stifling her tears told me that it wasn't so:
"I tried to run. I thought I could run outside. I believed in escaping. I ran out of the door and into the corner… and here I am."
I meant to ask if she meant this corner was her survival of the fire, but she started to claw at her garments and scream.
"Here I am!"
Her fingernails were penetrating not the admittedly thin cloth but her flesh, as well, producing crimson spots. I rose to my feet, my watch fell from my grip and shattered on the floor. Upon this, Alice screamed – I had never heard such a sound before. It was… penetrating. Before Nurse Duckett threw her notes to the ground and reached for her, she scrambled towards my feet, towards the pieces of the watch. I observed her as she, with trembling hands, tried to gather the gears back together. She was clumsily putting them back into the watch, (after the session's end, Nurse Duckett observed that she had cut her hands on the jagged pieces of glass on the face of the watch), moaning:
"Look at what you've done! Look at what you've done! Now we will never leave this table, now he will never let us go!"
She rose to her knees and began to tap her palms across her body in the manner of one who searches for a match for his pipe.
"Butter!" she shrieked, her voice hoarse, "If we had butter, we could have done something!"
Nurse Duckett, by some miracle, grabbed Alice and dragged her away from me, precisely when she attempted to lunge at me. She did manage to deliver a sturdy kick, to my shoulder. I was startled by her strength once again. I retrieved the chloroform, as my evening session had clearly gone beyond where it could be considered productive.
"You killed time!" she screamed as I tried to find an angle of approach, "You killed time, dear doctor, and there will be hell to pay!"
With considerable difficulty, we managed to subdue and sedate her. When we could confirm that she was asleep once more, I gathered Nurse Duckett's notes and left her to tend to Alice's wounds, as per her duty. On my way back, however, Daniel and Dean were absent from the unfortunate's ward. Erring on the side of caution, I gave Theophilus Carter's cell a cursory glance and confirmed that he was, indeed, still there.
Tonight's session was enlightening, if nothing else. Primarily, my assumption that she might have only a partial grip, based on her trial testimony (that I have been made privy to, courtesy of Lucas Rutledge) and my colleague's notes, on what had transpired has been shown to be false. Even though she might have only a partial awareness of the facts while in her lucid periods, she is, nevertheless, fully aware of them. One troubling factor is that she insists that we, not herself, are helpless. That the scope of this plurality includes my colleague is curious, but I have to wonder if she is simply trying to cope with the fact that she is, in her own words, driven to a corner – by making those she can interact with just as helpless, she could crea
Addendum (next page)
Nurse Duckett, again without bothering to knock, barging into my chambers was what cut today's entry short. She informed me that Theophilus Carter had escaped his cell. I immediately abandoned all and joined her, the three orderlies assigned to the unfortunates ward, and the present staff. We were given lanterns by the orderlies, given that the halls themselves were lit up only by gas lamps, which only gave a dim light in confined, rather small halos. Having somewhat learned the layout of the asylum, I was nevertheless escorted (though I am sure she would consider it leading, that woman) by Nurse Duckett and an orderly. We separated into even groups, determining the escapee's cell as our rendezvous point, and went on our way.
Nurse Duckett noted, before we could even ascend to the fortunate's ward, that Daniel and Dean were nowhere to be seen. I sternly reminded her that their absence bore no weight on our current situation and scolded her for her strange fixation on their comings and goings. She said nothing.
With Nurse Duckett as our compass, we quickly combed through the fortunate's ward but found nothing but dust and souls whose rests had been disturbed by our passing. With no means to communicate with the other groups, I had to assume that we were the only ones making some kind of progress as Nurse Duckett steered us towards the medical wing. The main hallway parted into the sections for the surgical chambers and the morgue.
"He will not have gone to the morgue." She said, "He cannot get out from there even if he means to."
"How can you be so certain?" I asked, "He might simply be waiting for us to pass him by so that he can…"
Nurse Duckett rudely interrupted me.
"Doctor, you are a sane man. Your way of thinking is useless in trying to anticipate what a madman will do, if you'll pardon my saying so. I am quite certain you were briefed thoroughly on my history in this place, so do tell me, sir, do you not know that I myself have tried to escape the confines of this asylum three times?"
I don't know what stayed my tongue, my anger or the fact that the situation did not allow for arguing with a pigheaded nurse.
"There are two places he might go. One is the surgical wing."
"And, the other?"
"Why, the administrative section of… course…"
Nurse Duckett brushed past me and started to head back the way from whence we came. Shouting her name, I sprinted after her, flanked by the orderly. We made our way around the bend, and Nurse Duckett, damn her sudden spell of bravery, simply ran on ahead. We climbed two flights of stairs and ran squarely into Daniel and Dean in the hallway of the administrative section. They were startled by our sudden appearance, and at once leapt at one another to close each other's mouths. Nurse Duckett lifted the lantern to better see them.
"Where is he?" she whispered.
The twins exchanged glances before, in eerie unison, pointed down the hallway. I glanced in that particular direction to see light, very dim and almost unnoticeable, issuing from an open door I knew to belong to Lucas Rutledge's office. A loud crash and the scuffling of papers was heard.
"Go. The others are below." Nurse Duckett said to the twins, "Find them and get them here."
The twins shook their heads.
"Why not?" Nurse Duckett asked.
The twins released each other's mouths and whispered:
"We can help. We can help subdue him."
"Well, that's settled, then." I said, "Lead the way."
We made our way down the hallway, flanked on both sides by closed doors, and as we moved closer, the telltale sounds of a frantic search began to issue from the room. As we got closer, I could hear his voice.
"Where is it? Where is it!? My sweet Queen, where did he put it!? Where has it gone!?"
Daniel and Dean moved forward, followed closely by the orderly, which left Nurse Duckett and me to the rear. My heart leapt to my mouth at the sound of something crashing onto the floor. When we made it to the doorstep, Daniel, Dean and the orderly stepped forward, followed rather cautiously by me and Nurse Duckett.
"Ah, Dee…" Theophilus Carter's voice came, but he stopped upon seeing the orderly, "What is the meaning of this!?"
"What are you looking for, Theophilus?" asked Nurse Duckett, without stepping forward.
"Dear Mary, is that you? Why won't you step to where I can see you?"
"I prefer to keep my distance, thank you very much. You haven't answered my question!"
"And you haven't answered mine! Why won't you step to where I can see you?"
"That is it!"
I stepped forward, pushing Nurse Duckett aside and entered the room, or whatever was left of it. Drawers of file cabinets laid on the floor, the desk had been ransacked, documents laid sprawled across the floor, the ink blot had been tipped over and the ink was steadily dripping onto the carpet.
"Daniel, Dean…" I hesitated.
"John." The orderly offered.
"Seize him!"
"Where is my watch!?" Theophilus Carter asked, fervently, as the three of them began to move to encircle him as much as possible in the limited space, "I can hear it ticking! It's here, somewhere! You're keeping it from me!"
Dean, Daniel and John managed to wrestle Theophilus Carter into submission, in the end binding his arms behind his back while John held him down, noting, meanwhile, that despite his wiry figure and considerable injuries, he was fairly strong. Nurse Duckett administered the chloroform, and it didn't take long before he, protesting and screaming, fell unconscious. As it was once said by Lucas Rutledge, the man put up quite a fight.
Dean, Daniel and John laboriously carried Theophilus Carter to his cell, whereupon we all held vigil as Nurse Duckett assessed him for injuries. He had none, aside from those that would be sore when he came to. We locked the cell, and I instructed John to take one other orderly and keep watch at his doorstep for the rest of the night.
After leaving him to it, Nurse Duckett and I took our leave. I made sure we were alone before halting her, for her behavior tonight certainly demanded a reprimand, but she, in her infuriating manner, spoke first and veered me away from my intended protestations.
Nurse Duckett informed me that Theophilus Carter was, indeed, correct: Lucas Rutledge had a vault "somewhere in the asylum," the key of which only he carried on his person, to collect items belonging to the unfortunates, such as those recovered from their person upon their time of arrest. How he could have known about this, she did not know, and neither did I.
At this point, Nurse Duckett overstepped her bounds once more, but Lord knows I am beginning to, even if unwillingly, adjust to this aggravating habit of hers. She suggested that perhaps Theophilus Carter, keeping more or less the same hours as the rest of us, was a more accessible patient, who might pose a more fruitful opportunity. I would like to believe that I find this suggestion agreeable because it is so, not because it has been suggested after such an encounter.
But for now, I wish not to consider the wherefore of this. I am tired. I have been having trouble sleeping, and though I am certain that I have dreams, I do not remember them. Curious.