"C'mon, boy, just shoot it!" roared Lord Tetch, his eyes blazing. "Be a man, for God's sake!"
Jervis Tetch stared at the rabbit stuck in the trap through tear-stained eyes, choking on his sobs as his quivering hands pointed a shotgun at it. The rabbit's hind legs were caught in the teeth of the trap and it jerked desperately, trying to free itself, screaming in agony.
"Just put it out of its misery, Jervis – it'll gnaw its leg off if you don't kill it," said Lady Tetch. "You're doing it a kindness, really."
"Don't try to make him think about it, Delia – for God's sake, he already thinks too much!" snapped Lord Tetch. "Just shoot it, boy! It's just a dumb animal!"
Jervis choked on another sob, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. "I can't!" he gasped. "I can't!"
"Here, I'll do it, Father," snapped Simeon, shoving Jervis out of the way. He casually raised the gun and pulled the trigger, and the rabbit stopped screaming. Jervis's eyes stung with tears as he buried his face in his hands.
"Good boy, Simeon," muttered Lord Tetch, opening the trap and pulling out the rabbit carcass. "He's half your age and twice the man you are, Jervis. And he always will be."
"I'm sorry, Father," whispered Jervis. "I'm sorry. But I can't kill the poor thing, not when it's not done any harm…"
"I blame Mrs. Pennyworth," sniffed Lady Tetch. "She reads him these books about rabbits in waistcoats, and it's probably rotted his mind so he can't tell the difference between humans and animals anymore. Frankly I think you're a little old for children's books, Jervis. You need to grow up and out of these silly stories. Enjoy grown-up past-times."
"Come here, Simeon, I'll show you how to skin it," said Lord Tetch, beckoning his younger son over and pulling out a knife.
"May I please go back to the house now?" whispered Jervis, averting his gaze.
"Yes, go on, you useless boy," retorted Lord Tetch. "Go back to your books and your gadgets. I tell you, Delia, there's something wrong with that boy. It's not healthy for a young man to want to coop himself up inside all day. Healthy people should want to be outside, enjoying the fresh air, among nature," he said, slicing his knife down the rabbit's skin."He'll turn out to be a bad 'un, mark my words."
Jervis trudged back to the house, hurrying through the game room to reach the safety of the kitchen. Mrs. Pennyworth was there, helping her husband with the baking.
"Jervis, how did it go?" she asked, kindly, wiping her flour-coated hands on her apron.
Jervis shook his head. "I couldn't do it. And Father and Mother were…very disappointed in me."
"Oh, cheer up, Jervis," said Mrs. Pennyworth, giving him a warm hug. "Have a cup of tea. That will set all to rights."
"I think there must be something wrong with me," murmured Jervis as he sat down by the fire, and Mrs. Pennyworth poured him his tea. "I don't understand why I seem to be the only one who cares about animals, while Father and Mother and Simeon see them only as things to be killed, no more important than…than playing cards to the Queen of Hearts, which she just so casually beheads…"
"There's nothing wrong with you, Jervis," said Mrs. Pennyworth, firmly. "You're different from the rest of your family, but you're no more wrong than they are. People are all different, and what's right for one person is wrong for another. You just have to follow your own heart, and find what makes you happy. A boy as special as you has a good reason for being on this earth – you just have to find it. God does nothing in vain."
"I wish I had your faith," murmured Jervis, sipping his tea.
Mrs. Pennyworth sat down across from him. "Jervis, do you think Alice would have gone to Wonderland if she fit in, and was just the same as the rest of her family?"
"I don't know," said Jervis. "Why?"
"Well, in my experience, extraordinary things only happen to extraordinary people," said Mrs. Pennyworth, shrugging. "And although Alice sometimes had a very difficult time in Wonderland, with all these strange creatures not making any sense, and the Queen of Hearts shouting for her head, she ended up having an extraordinary adventure. And then she had another, in Looking-Glass world. And I don't think she would have traded those experiences for anything. And she could only have those experiences by being herself, by being as unique and special as she was. They couldn't have happened to anyone else but Alice."
"'I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself, you see'," replied Jervis.
"Well, she had been so many different sizes that day," replied Mrs. Pennyworth, smiling. "That she really was confused as to who she was. But small or grown, she was still Alice."
She kissed his forehead. "And small or grown, you're still Jervis Tetch, and a very fine young man. Now come have a cake – I promise it won't make you open out like a telescope, unlike poor, dear Alice. How did it go again, Jervis?"
"'Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words 'EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants…'"
…
Jervis Tetch awoke from the dream-memory to total darkness. He snapped on the lamp by the bed, sighing heavily, and then stood up, pulling on his dressing gown and heading out of the room.
He walked down the stairs and across the corridor into the kitchen, and began building a small fire on the hearth. He took a seat next to it, staring into the flames.
"Master Tetch?" said a familiar voice, as Pennyworth entered in his dressing gown. "Whatever are you doing up at this hour, sir?"
"I can't sleep," replied Tetch. "I just have a lot on my mind at the moment."
"I understand, sir," said Pennyworth, nodding. "Tea?"
"That would be lovely, thank you," replied Tetch.
"Mrs. Pennyworth always said one should never think deep thoughts without the help of tea," said Pennyworth, putting on the kettle. "It clears the mind. Nothing in this world a cup of tea won't set to rights, she always said."
"I wish…I had known she was ill," murmured Tetch. "I would have liked to say goodbye to her. She was like a mother to me…"
"I was going to write to you, sir, but it was all so sudden," murmured Pennyworth. "We barely knew there was anything wrong before she was gone. But I think she was grateful she didn't have to linger on in pain…she's in a far better place now, sir. And we should all be so lucky to join her one day. And your parents, of course, sir."
Tetch snorted. "If there is a heaven, Pennyworth, I have no doubt your wife is very happy there. But I can assure you, my parents are not. What does it say in the Bible? 'If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.' And my parents never loved anyone. They saw their children as a means to carrying on the family tradition, nothing more. And I am glad I disappointed them in that. I'm glad I refused to play their stupid game and left."
"The Bible also teaches forgiveness, sir," murmured Pennyworth. "Especially toward those who have passed on. Whatever sins your parents committed, they are accounting for them now. And even if you don't believe that, no good can come of resenting people who are no longer with us. Don't waste your life hating the dead."
"I don't hate my parents," murmured Tetch. "I honestly pity them more than anything. Especially if…what I suspect about their deaths is true."
"What do you suspect about their deaths, sir?" asked Pennyworth, surprised.
"I…I think Simeon might…have had something to do with it," murmured Tetch. "There was a pebble wedged in my father's gun, causing it to backfire, and Simeon was out with them that day…"
"No, sir!" gasped Pennyworth. "No, sir, I can't believe your own brother could be a murderer! And…a criminal!"
"If I can, why can't he?" muttered Tetch.
"What are you saying, sir?" asked Pennyworth, shocked.
Tetch sighed. "I have never killed anyone," he said. "But in Gotham…I am confined to Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane, along with everyone who's staying here. I'm not mad, but they think I am, because I'm intelligent, and I used that intelligence to…to invent a chip that could control a person's mind. And I used it for what I thought was good, to save a girl I loved very deeply from a man who was entirely unsuitable for her…but the law decided otherwise. They decided I used it because I was mad, mad for love of her, and in truth, Pennyworth, they were probably right. I did love her, and still do love her, so deeply that I'm afraid I can't tell up from down and left from right and right from wrong. I feel like Alice lost in Wonderland, surrounded by mad people…and not knowing how to get home."
Pennyworth was silent. "Well, you're home now, sir," he murmured. "And I do wish you would stay here. I loathe to think of you locked in some cold cell in a madhouse…"
"Well, to be honest, that seems more like my home now," murmured Tetch. "I feel more comfortable in Arkham than I've felt anywhere else in my life. And I have friends, for the first time in my life. So in a strange way, perhaps out of bad has come good. Is that nonsense, Pennyworth?"
"No, sir," replied Pennyworth. "That is life."
He stood up. "If you truly believe your brother was responsible for the deaths of your parents, what are we to do about it? We obviously can't telephone the police, since we're apparently housing a gang of criminals…"
"No," agreed Tetch. "You must leave Simeon to me. I will find out the truth from him. And don't worry. If my brother thought it would be easy to get away with murder around his criminal brother, then he's the crazy one, not I."