Author's Note: Let's just forget that it's been two months to the day that I last touched this. I've been working so much on my other stories that some of the more difficult ones (humor is hard, yo) got pushed to the back burner. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to this and Demons, soon. Anywho, enjoy this chapter.

I want to dedicate this chapter to the loverly Bittah! If it wasn't for her insistence that I actually update this story again, I don't know when it would have been done. And, considering she had to prod me like four times before I opened the word file, I think she deserves special recognition :)

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Disney's live action musical: Newsies. No, I do not own Lewis Carroll's novel, Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland, nor Disney's cartoon version of Alice in Wonderland. I own Stress, her cat Ashes and her fixation with hopping newsies.

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Curiouser and Curiouser

September 2, 2006

Stress has accidentally stumbled into the wonderful world of Newsieland.
Will she ever get back home to New Jersey? Not if the Queen of New York has her way.

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Stress didn't stop running until she had left the pink house far behind her. Every time she thought that she had gotten far enough away, she heard the clear yell of 'salt' from right behind her and she ran even faster. She had the misfortune of eating a spoonful of plain salt once – it's only to be expected when salt and sugar are both grainy, white powders and Mary Poppins said that swallowing a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down; come on, someone else must have made that mistake, too – and was not eager to relive the experience.

Once she was out of breath, Stress paused and looked over her shoulder. The horrid pink house was no longer in sight. She sighed out of relief. "Thank God."

"What are you thanking the Big Guy for?"

Stress let out a tiny shriek of surprise. She had thought that she was alone again but, evidently, she was not. She spun on her heel. There, across the street – for, after fleeing from Bookie (the Great Duchess of Newsieland), she had found her way back onto the main street; the street, ironically enough, looked just like the painted backdrops of low-budget Disney musicals except they were real and not painted on at all – sat a girl, lounging about on a rather high branch in a rather tall tree.

At first glance, the girl was pretty normal looking. She was on the shorter side with long and wavy dark hair. Her stormy green eyes were almost dancing with amusement at Stress's yell. She was wearing a white pinstriped shirt, covered in grass stains, and faded black slacks. Overall, she looked very much like most of the girls that Stress had encountered in Newsieland.

That is, except for two features: she had two perky, black cats' ears and a grin that would put GE out of business it was so big and bright.

At first sight, Stress knew something was different about this girl. Her strange appearance coupled with the way she had just popped out screamed out that something was weird. But, regardless of any common sense, Stress crossed the street. "Pardon?"

"I said, what are you thanking the Big Guy for?"

"The…Big Guy?"

"Yeah. You said 'thank God'. What for?"

Stress shook her head. "I was running away from this crazy pink house and I was glad that I got far enough away."

The girl/cat/thing nodded knowingly. "You got off easy there, missy. You would have been shouting 'Hallelujah' if you would have stopped by that old place when Medda was still living there. Just be glad that you only met Bookie."

"Yeah…wait a minute. Who are you?" Stress asked, pointing at her. For a moment she had forgotten to be wary of anyone she came across in Newsieland. But after almost drowning in saline, getting burnt alive and being offered a healthy – unhealthy, really – portion of salt, she was beginning to grow a smidge of sense. She took a step away. "I mean – you got cats' ears."

The girl's grin, if possible, grew wider. One of her hands, furless – from where Stress was standing, it seemed like the only cat-like features that girl had were her ears and that odd, almost Cheshire Cat-like grin – reached up and tweaked her ear. "Well, what did you expect? I'm from Cheshire."

"And?"

"So, wouldn't that make me a Cheshire Cat?" She looked like certain that what she was saying was making perfect sense that, for a second, Stress believed her.

"I gues— Actually, no I don't see how. Were you born with those ears?" Then reality set in and, like many times before, Stress was confused.

"No. They grew."

"You grew cats' ears? How?"

The grin was almost mocking Stress; it was joined by a jolly laugh. Stress felt that, if she weren't such a klutz – as evidenced by her earlier attempt (and failure) at climbing the glass table when she first arrived in Newsieland – she would climb that tree and maybe smack that grin off the girl/cat's face.

"Well," the girl/cat/thing countered, "you grow hair. How do you do it?"

Stress opened her mouth to answer and closed it almost right away. I should know this. I learned this in high school. But the answer would not come to her. "I don't know."

"There you go." She seemed so sure of herself. "By the by, my name is Timber. And you?"

"Stress."

"Pity."

Stress glanced up at her. "I'm sorry?"

Timber laughed again. "Honey, you should be."

Stress's mouth dropped open in surprise. She had just been pwn'd by a girl/cat/thing named Timber! But, before she could say anything in response, the girl began to fade. Sure she was just seeing things – a trick of the light, you know – Stress rubbed her green eyes frantically before opening them wide and staring at the tree again. Nope, it was definitely not a trick. The girl was fading. Not before long, the only thing that remained was the cheeky grin.

She was so taken aback by the girl's disappearance that, when the girl re-appeared in another tree – is that why she is called Timber? – on the other side of the street, Stress did not notice.

"Hey, there, girlie?"

She screamed again, feeling all the dumber for letting this girl/cat/thing catch her off guard for the second time. When she had composed herself, she whirled around. "What?"

The grin was back. "Are you all there?"

Panic hit Stress just then. What did Timber mean, 'all there'? Was she disappearing, too? She glanced down quickly, looking at her front before looking over her shoulder and studying her rear. As far as she could see, nothing was missing. "Looks like it to me."

"Are you sure?" Timber asked, laughing again she spoke. "Cause, I tell you, if you were, you wouldn't be here."

"I don't get it."

Timber paused to scratch one of her ears. Stress was amazed at how natural the girl seemed to be with those furry ears, the way they flicked and moved. In a fit of irrational jealousy, she wanted ears like that. Then she remembered that she had her own cat at home, Ashes, and why would she need cats' ears of her own when she had his?

"Let me put it this way, girlie," Timber said, ripping Stress out of dreams of what would she look like with Ashes' grey, fuzzy ears superimposed on her head, "have you met anyone here yet that seemed, I don't know, normal?"

Stress thought back to the beginning of her adventure. First she had met David, the hopping newsboy. Nope, definitely not normal. Then there had been those three girls: Zippy, Gimmick & Wish, and their odd caucus race. That would be a no to them, too. After that she had met up with David again and his two associates, Boots and Snipeshooter. They tried to burn down a house with me inside it. Not normal. Then there had been Racetrack, the caterpillar and then butterfly. He was a boy/bug hybrid for goodness sake – and he smoked a cigar! How many caterpillars smoke cigars? The pink house had been weird enough, especially that odd door boy, Les, but a gambling duchess and a cook who only cooks salt? Yup, a zero on the Normal-o-meter. And, lastly, she was standing with a girl who was part girl, part cat and all smile. By jove, Timber was right.

"No, I can honestly say that I have not."

"And that's because we're not all here." Timber was now disappearing again. "You may notice that I'm not all here myself…"

This time Stress was more prepared. Rather than let Timber reappear somewhere else and scare her again, she spun around and stared at the first tree expectantly. But Timber did not reappear there.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on the back of her shoulder and, predictably, she screamed again. Timber was no longer sitting on a limb; the girl/cat/thing was floating behind Stress, sitting cross-legged about seven feet above the ground. She was still grinning.

Stress crossed her arms over her chest. "You seem to know so much about this place. How do I get out of here?"

Timber mimicked Stress' gesture. "Can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Don't know how…but the Mad Patch might."

Stress was not too sure that she heard that right. "The Mad…Patch?"

Timber nodded. "Yup. The Mad Patch. Lives right on down this street with his buddy, the March Hair. They've been in Newsieland almost as long as the King and Queen of New York. If anybody can help you, it's probably them."

For once, Stress felt grateful toward one of the loonies of Newsieland. Was it possible that Timber was actually helping her? "Wow, thanks. I appreciate it."

The girl/cat/thing was disappearing again. As she slowly faded away, her grin widened. When nothing was left of her but the grin, she laughed. "Don't, girlie. They're just as off as the rest of us all." And then, with a pop, and what could only be described as an evil laugh, Timber was gone.

Stress just shrugged. She should have known better.