The Hatter, on Alice
"Cricket
Cricket Cricket
Alice Cricket
Alice"
~~Reginald, Bri-chan and Rain
I am as mad as a hatter but sensible enough for this. For Alice. It is nighttime now: so quiet except for my cricket. As I lay here the clocks go back to a Wonderland afternoon, a 6:00 tea party at the March Hare's. We had been at it awhile now-Time and I were just beginning our little tif over murderment. I hadn't seen a little girl since...
But I saw a little girl then to be sure. An impertinent little girl too. As she battled with Marchy over a point of English civility, I just looked at her dumb as the sleeping Dormouse. Time is so moody in Wonderland: either he makes people seem to last forever or they are eaten by a Bandersnatch before you finish introductions. He and Mr. Toad must be great friends, motor car racing back and forth as they do. This girl-Alice I later learned-could be never heard from again in a matter of minutes. She could be a curious transitory girl. So I committed her form to memory in case I never saw a little girl again.
You could see her little mind turning, trying to understand us but at the same time insisting on no personal remarks. But her hair did want cutting! I could have done it for her, but nooooo. Most likely she wouldn't stand for it. And to have the rudeness to make a personal remark later and rejecting my important point on nothingness. How absurd! So I let the little Alice go: she had ruined the Dormouse's story after all and I had already committed her small image to memory.
But lo and behold: I saw her again. After that awful jail where they do not give you so much as a crumpet or a visit to Time, I was working for the White King and Queen as messenger with dear old Haigha. I was delighted to see her, but all the messenger business distracted me from talking to her again. I noted that she had grown taller. It meant she had aged. What a pity.
Years then past, correct? I don't know the exact number since my favorite and useful watch broke despite the best butter and tea. But she came back...and stayed. Very odd considering: most outsiders can't stand Wonderlandish logic for more than 3 minutes in which they escape, or goblins eat them. It is a rather dangerous place: not that I remember well how dangerous England was. Ears and I had a bet going on-the Dormouse had left by then-on how long she would remain in residency. He believed she would stay forever and I thought not. There was no way she would last-rude temper that she possessed. She was much too curious and dull-witted.
We lived in ignorance of each other like that for a year. I stayed away from the newcomer not only because of her nonsensical short fuse for nonsense but also she was not important. She was a vanishing act...just taking a long while. The few times we did meet things exploded rather quickly. These explosions were fun, but I didn't tell anyone because then I would lose my bet. I would want her to stay. Can't do that now, can I? Even though Ears has called it off: he befriended this Alice Liddell rather quickly despite knowing how much Alice and I fought.
But then she came to tea, surprises of surprises. And one thing led to another in our courtship (she still refuses to admit it is a courtship, stubborn, intelligent, wonderful thing she is) and now she is important: a cornerstone. When your mind spins on the shine of a raven's wing and is easily distracted from conversation by the slight aroma of Earl Grey tea (and when one is constantly surrounded by tea too), cornerstones are important. Like the March Hare, Alice is an axis I can spin around: a clear image among the loud, colorful chaos of my inner psyche. She is a blonde and blue thorn in my side-constantly reminding me of her continued existence and refusing to be swept from my mind by Time (he is such a good cleaner too, you know). Our arguments are fun games of twisting words, and I inwardly applaud and admire her more when her insults are unexpectedly spot on. When you can do something an insane person doesn't expect it refreshes the senses indeed. Her refusal of me is a challenge and more recently a disappointment.
I now miss her when she is not there. I have to walk around with my thorn draped in orange loneliness. Hats start looking like Alices over and over again. Blue teacups with ribbons of black are suddenly treasured. Scheming new dates and worming around her defenses (this is especially hard) are now constant pastimes. Bears, goblins, momeraths, ducks, and even thorn bushes have become serious threats.
Is this a...relationship? I don't want just the body of Alice. I want Alice. I want her to love me despite my faults and always be here. I don't want to spend Time's intended eternity for me alone. She is shy. She is scared. She is slowly losing her defenses. Maybe someday...My cricket. My annoying, lovely, independent, sharp, curious cricket.
{Cricket, cricket}
{Alice, Alice}
-Reginald Theophilius III