"Facts Concerning the Strange Case of Wonderland"
Nurse Mary Duckett's Personal Journal, "The Events of December 3, 1870"
(written on December 7, 1870)
In hindsight, it was a grave mistake – not to have done what I have done on December 3rd, but to have put myself in that position a few times before that very day. I cannot deny that my own less than advisable behavior has set the stage for these events, but I also cannot find respite from the thought that it was only a matter of time.
I will always wonder.
On the night of December the 3rd, after making my usual rounds, I resolved to visit Theophilus regarding our encounter two nights prior. I had abstained from doing so the previous day, partly owing to my need to compose myself before confronting him. It would appear from the outside that we had established a kind of rapport, but even if that were true, Theophilus Carter was a very dangerous madman, unpredictable and cunning. It was the nagging thought that would not leave me be, his words: "Your doctor is in Wonderland."
It might have been a ruse, and given what followed, I am inclined to believe that it was. But if there was even a slightest chance that Hieronymous now roamed, or was trapped inside this wretched, sick fantasy called Wonderland, I had to know.
I would not lie to myself. Hieronymous was dead. I knew this. I had accepted this fact.
But the possibility… could he have believed himself shedding his earthly bonds, perchance only to escape the haunting of Wonderland, only to have found himself in the Mad Hatter's Sanitarium, forever caged inside an unending purgatory that had driven him there? Was his immortal soul denied rest in the hands of this demon's machinations?
I had to know.
So as not to go empty-handed, I borrowed a rather sharp knife from the kitchen. I concealed it in an apron pocket, my fingers wrapped firmly around the wooden handle. So as to hide it as much as possible, I walked with both of my hands in my apron's pockets on the way to Theophilus' cell. I noted the absence of Daniel and Dean, but knowing those little bastards, I wagered that they would not be far. As I approached, I began to hear his hum. A song that I could hear as his indistinct humming gave way to words. I stood before his cell door, feeling somewhat secure that the heavy slab of wrought iron was there to separate us.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…"
"Mad Hatter." I called. The song stopped immediately and a split second later, Theophilus' scarred face appeared.
"Ah, dearest Mary. Hullo."
"A good night." I said. Truth be told, I had gotten accustomed to conversing with him. That is another thing I never should have done. It was complacency, nothing more.
The unfortunates' ward was unusually silent. This, I recall, yet it did not bother me at the time as it should have.
"I would say so," he said with a smile, "Have you enjoyed our little stroll into my side of the sanitarium?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Then say that you have not, my dear – it is important to say what you mean, you know."
"You said something to me, that I have been curious about."
"Not one for mincing words tonight, I see." He said, with a sigh, "Very well, then. Answer me a riddle, and I will tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but, so help me my Queen."
I frowned, yet held my posture. Another game, I thought. Just another pointless game that would make him fulfill one of his countless obsessions.
"Very well." I said, "Ask me."
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
I could have laughed, yet I thought it polite not to.
"You yourself do not know the answer to that one." I said, instead.
"Believe me, my dear. I know the answer." He said, snickering, "But I want to hear yours! It will be very interesting, I am sure!"
"I am flattered."
"As you should be! But come along, my dear, tick tock, goes the clock. Tell me."
I had considered the answer beforehand, as I had studied the chapter of the mad tea party quite extensively, and had thought that the riddle, given Theophilus' affection for them, would come up sooner or later. I had no desire to take Charles Dodgson's word on the subject, and not having an answer might have caused complications, thus I had attempted to find one myself. Having failed to do so on my own, I had used my evening rounds to consult other unfortunates. The answer that I gave Theophilus was arguably the most nonsensical one, which was why I used it. It had been provided to me by Frederick, one of Doctor Bennett's patients:
"Because there is a B in both and an N in neither."
Theophilus laughed. He laughed with such insane glee that I felt my blood run cold. Whether or not my answer had found the mark remained to be seen, but it had certainly amused him.
"Splendid! Just perfect! You certainly do not disappoint, dear Mary. Alas…" he cackled again, "…it is not the right answer."
"Then what is the right answer?" I asked. He looked at me straight in the eye, and I barely kept a shiver at bay. When he spoke, his voice was soft and measured.
"Because it can produce a few notes, tho they are very flat; and it is never put with the wrong end in front!" he said the word 'never' with a slight inflection at the end, and though I understood it, I was under the impression that he had said it as 'nevar,' with a harsher and rounder emphasis on the second vowel.
Whichever the case, unbeknownst to me, that particular word was the cue for Daniel and Dean to dash out of their corner and grab hold of my arms. Before I could even react, they pulled me back, their hands on my shoulders, only to pushed me forward, slamming me against the cell door. The knife in my right hand was still there, but they had gotten a hold of my wrists, and I could not move. With my face pressed against the bars, I was now face to face with the Mad Hatter.
"Which is an awful like you, wouldn't you say?"
"Boss… she's armed." Daniel (or Dean) called. Theophilus' eyes narrowed to slits. His anger was palpable, and I, still pitifully trying to resist the strong hands of Lucas Rutledge's brutish nephews, was helpless in its wake.
"You dare bring a weapon to our table?"
"It's a bread knife." I managed, "Perhaps to fix the clock."
"Well played, Mary, but I'm afraid I do not have my watch just yet. Of course, I would not trust you to fix it, either, so it'd be sublime that I acquire this particular tool. Dee!"
I now know that he was not saying "Dean" in that moment. Doctor Bennett has since mentioned to me one of his somnambular excursions into Wonderland, and a stray remark given to him by none other than the March Hare, despite his inability to recognize the character.
Dean's weight shifted. He planted his elbow onto my back, making me wince and concentrated both of his hands on acquiring the knife. I surrendered it without struggle. It would be a futile effort, and to needlessly try to prevent him from taking it from me was unnecessary. He carefully passed it over my shoulder and into the waiting, spider-like fingers of his master. It was in that moment that I came to the realization that Daniel and Dean had been held in thrall by Theophilus for some time now. Their constant presence near him, the hushed conversations I had broken up, their sometimes guard-like behavior, standing watch in front of his cell… how stupid I had been. I had been a blind woman, and my eyes had opened only when my blindness had walked me into a trap.
Theophilus examined the knife as Daniel and Dean, painfully, folded my arms back and, with two hands still on the back of my neck, began to tie my hands. I had never realized that identical twins could move as one, but one hand from each worked with precision and tied an expert double-knot that ensured the compliance of my hands.
"Hmm, curious. Still a stray crumb or two." Theophilus said, "Not enough to damage the watch, but they need to be dealt with. The knife must be perfect. Of course," he gave a rather cordial nod, ", nothing less for you, my dear. Now."
Daniel (or Dean) quite harshly dug into my apron's pockets and took out my key ring. It took him one glance to find the key to Theophilus' cell. I felt my fear engulf me in a moment of pure projection: the most likely thing was that he would throw me into the cell, lock it behind him. After that, he could have done anything. He could have set the other unfortunates loose to overwhelm the orderlies. He could have killed the other resident staff, the other nurses (with this thought, I cannot deny to have had images of Elsie, Lacie and Tillie, now asleep in their quarters, horribly murdered by the Mad Hatter race through my mind…)
Daniel and Dean pulled me back as Theophilus opened his cell door with little difficulty. The brutes pushed me in, almost causing me to lose my balance, but it was Theophilus disgracefully tripping me that did that. I heard the iron door close and the lock engage. After a few seconds of my heart pounding in my ears and hesitation, I looked up.
Theophilus was still in the cell with me.
His mere presence inspired more fear than my own imagination could ever have damned me with. I suddenly became very aware of how very small the cells actually were, but I do confess that this notion might have had something to do with the fact that my only instinct in that moment was to escape the Mad Hatter. I could not.
With a sudden move that I admit I winced to, Theophilus stabbed the knife into his arm in the cast, as casually as he would were he swatting a fly. He reached for the bars, and his faithful servants handed him a white rag. Theophilus adjusted it inside his hand, his spider-leg fingers making sure it fit just right.
"I will sing you a lullaby, dear Mary, so that you will think your sleep peaceful… after all, believing is seeing, and seeing is knowing!"
I could smell it in the air. Chloroform. Before I could protest, no matter how vehemently, Theophilus, humming that song ("Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…") pressed one bony knee against my stomach and covered my mouth and nose with the rag. I did not even attempt to hold my breath. Just as I had admitted my defeat outside of this cell, I saw value in admitting it inside it, as well.
The fumes worked like a charm, and I was unconscious in a few moments.