JMJ

Chapter Seven

Twinkle, Twinkle little Rat

Long straight pale trees came in copses and small woodland areas. Plots and plains in between were spread out like square flowerboxes. The plots seemed to have words growing out of them more than flowers and shrubs however organic they looked. The plains on the other hand were truly plain and almost desolate with hardly so much as the thinnest weakest threads of grasses hissing. The sky was such a vintage blue and the steam rose so nostalgically and the sunlight filtered so goldenly that Lise found herself only for a second wondering how old she was and if she was not dreaming this whole thing far more than when she had been in the city.

However, she did still feel the hum of it all. The ticking and the tocking— the metronome keeping the slightest breath or wind in time. She could feel almost more than she could see that every patch of land whether with trees, grass, flowers, and even brooks and ponds with loud blackbirds in chorus seemed to be moving like miniature plates on the miniature globe in fast motion but still slow enough to have to squint to make sure she was seeing it right. It was not the wind causing an illusion with the misty haze and colors.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said Haddler carelessly.

Lise turned around sharply having nearly forgotten that she was not alone. She almost felt invaded upon as though someone had come into her own mind to stand careless beside her.

That cocky man stood there leaning against the last sign post back to the city and tipped his hat. It was this sort of teasing that made Lise feel sure that more was going on inside that over-wound mind of his. That he knew his jokes were worse than she knew. It was this sort of knowing as he stared at her with more cunning than the Cheshire Cat that caused her to wonder if all of the people here spoke in that riddling way they did to keep people from entering their own minds.

"Isn't it?" Haddler pressed.

Lise clamped her mouth shut.

"I don't know," she said. "Do you think it is? I think it feels somewhat claustrophobic and mechanically stringent."

Haddler shrugged and began to stroll down a path as though choosing one at random just to prove the existence of spontaneous deviation.

"Keep up," he sang merrily.

The twinkling hazy sun filtered through the leaves over his coat and hat in a sort of Victorian haiku come to life:

My feet glide along

Twinkles and shadow wrinkles

To a whisp'ring throng.

Lise might have stood there longer. She had almost forgotten why he was bringing her here or if she had heard the poem before or had simply made it up on a whim herself. It was a shifting of gears beneath her feet (rather than those inside her head) as though a track changed switches that snapped her out of the enchantment. She was not surprised, though she still felt a quiver, as she saw that her path was diverging now from Haddler's.

Time, she suddenly reinforced to herself, and quickly she leapt to the path upon which Haddler strode carelessly whistling to himself.

He was like some phantom in a dream where one cannot tell if the mysterious person is good or bad. The right or wrong about it could change the dream into a nightmare quicker than any railway turnout.

Frogs croaked in and out with every tick and every tock with every cricket and bird.

"Psithurism," Haddler suddenly muttered, and it was then that the clockwork sound became background sounds, for she now heard what he heard more fully now that she thought about it.

The wind in the trees.

He was beginning to sing quietly to himself as the wind shifted the twinkling of light through the leaves all around him. Was it a stage or was it a world or was all the world a stage? Lise caught up to his side enough to shake the nostalgia if not the twinkling. The twinkling, she was afraid, had only just begun.

"Psthurism, psithurism…" it was really someone singing, and Haddler was only copying as one might to a half familiar song on the radio.

She listened through the trees, and she could make it out now.

Psithurisms, slitherisms

Can you tell limb from Sprechstimme?

Esmerald' wings or tongues 'neath crimson prisms?

Safe nests in canopies or serpents skimming slim?

Psithurism, better than a zither

In delight I quiver.

Train the ear or whither

Goes strong liver?

Psithurism, quite discerning,

Gently may I go drifting

When the truth of sound I'm earning

Gives me all I need for sifting.

Haddler did not know all the words or else he was drifting away past the song. His voice trailed off, though she could not say at all whether it was wistfulness or loss of interest. Lise looked around trying to find the source of the real voice hidden in the trees as she could not help but wonder if it was a serpent. She shook her head in realizing that it had to be the whispering trees themselves amidst the calm and happy chirping of birds which at the moment feared no serpents. It was a sweet warning and a love to all the other birds dwelling in the trees.

How could a world like this be wholly evil? It made her feel suddenly very sad, and she did not quite know why.

"Very pretty," she said out loud to keep the choke from her throat, but Haddler did not hear her.

Instead he showed her to what looked like an overgrown hedge with another sign which read, Enter at your own risk: enterers are responsible for what may be lost to the sticky willies.

"The sticky willies steal from you then instead of sticking to you?" asked Lise as Haddler tugged on a thick glove.

He pulled back a certain bough very delicately to reveal a door in the ground that looked just like a small closet door.

"Only if you don't know the way, but do keep in mind that it is what they could steal theoretically first, before they can take anything tangible."

"Why?" Lise could not help but ask; why did she care in a place like this anyway?

"Because nothing happens that has not been thought before," said Haddler smugly.

"Hmph!" laughed Lise.

That seemed to please Haddler despite her dry tone. His twinkling eyes grew freakishly large as he smiled the more.

"At least someone's being honest about this place then," said Lise.

"Hasn't anyone but me been honest about it?" asked Haddler innocently now. "Take the handle and we'll go in. I wouldn't want you to lose your name here or any other abstract things, after all."

Leaning down with care, Lise brushed away stray leaves that still looked too perfect to be anything but from a stage. She turned the knob and pulled up. It was a little heavy. It concerned her more because she thought she might pull the knob straight through it rather than being able to lift it. Once it was open it laid flat against the shrubbery and all the sticky willies to any enterer's satisfaction. She though she heard complaining in tiny little voices, and she could only imagine that it was the willies more upset about losing potential victims of their games than because of being in anyway hurt.

With Haddler free to release his hedge, he put his glove away. Then down they went along a narrow staircase. The instant Haddler pulled the door shut behind them the angry willies overtook the door so that even the cracks revealed no light from the world above. However this place was not lost to darkness. There was a glow beneath them.

At first Lise thought it was the underside of the clockwork globe grasping at light reflecting off the boiling sea beneath them, but as Haddler turned a small knob of his own so that a very Tesla-styled light popped out of his hat like from a miner's helmet, she saw that the ground around here was far too thick. The whole staircase and the corridor beyond were made almost entirely of pipes all woven into each other and they snaked around one another without leaving a crack of light between them either.

"Is this the only way to the heart?" asked Lise. "Is this a sort of artery?"

"This is not the only way, and I never thought of it as an artery so much as an antechamber."

"But it's a staircase not a chamber. Where was that light coming from before you turned on yours?"

"The heart of Heartland," said Haddler; there was no tease in his voice now but grave seriousness.

The light at the bottom of the staircase grew into a raspberry glow at the bottom, and here Haddler turned out his light. Lise could also see glowing cracks now again twinkle between the shifting walls, ceiling, and even the floor.

It was a game of stepping stones for her and Haddler. Gears turned this way and that and no platform was one hundred percent safe from moving. Sometimes she was on an actual flat-side of a naked gear itself, and though she tried to keep up, it was not rare for Haddler to turn around and help her by the hand up a platform, pipe or gear; or across a widening gap.

Lise looked down more than once at such gaps. It looked as it did on all sides so it really should not have made a difference. Yet somehow that made looking down even more dizzying for the layers and layers of complicated clockwork with no seeming rhyme or reason. Sometimes there was just a thick layer of gears or an empty dark space, and every once in a while those piercing twinkles of light to the outside. Sometimes a smell like freshly made tarts came through, sometimes music like ancient swing or a modern opera would sashay in like a ghostly breeze to toy with the ears between the loud echoing clanks, clangs, and chugs. Once there was a heated argument; though she could make nothing of who the people were much less why or if it was practice for a performance.

By and by the other lights and sounds were gone altogether. The picnickers were headed deep into the orb of Heartland now. Lise felt like a clock mouse scurrying through a dream world's Big Ben.

"You know," she said suddenly when the clockworks had lessened a little as they passed through a long pipe. "I know you said that the way to talk to Time is intimately heart to heart, but isn't inside the heart too much?"

"We're not inside it," said Haddler simply. "And I wouldn't recommend it. I don't think you'd get back out again once you stuffed yourself in."

It annoyed her that she felt incredibly tired from this hot and steamy hike already, but Haddler seemed still wound to go for some time.

"But the raspberry glow is gone now and… I don't know where the light's coming from here," Lise pointed out.

"The white roses," he said pointing to white crystals that were indeed shaped a bit like flowers despite how they came out of the pipe walls like mushrooms. "But the main glow? I don't know where you're from, but here light is usually blocked by a thick wall such as the one surrounding us."

Wiping her dripping brow from the oppressive steam, Lise rolled her eyes

If only he knew what was really at stake in all this, he would not be joking so much as choking, she felt.

Even as they scurried on their pipe was moving. The sight of raspberry light slowly returned and it painted the white crystals in a bath of rosiness. She paused to look despite herself, but as she tried to hurry up, she slipped on the slick surface beneath her and tripped with a cry.

Haddler spun around and bounded back.

She expected him to tease, but he quickly stooped down in earnest as she quickly pulled herself up to her knees. He pushed a button on his hat and out popped a tea cup from the crown. It was a most delicate piece of china that one would ever wish to see with frail roses from the realm painted with graceful red and gold flourish along with a few crimson hearts wreathed in silver and gold checkers. He promptly grabbed it as it in midair like a bar tender shaking up drinks without any worry of dropping and crashing such a piece. Pulling a cord on his square pack he had been lugging on his back, he then brought his cup to a sudden spout under his opposite arm and out came a fresh steaming cup of tea. Like one bringing water to racer, he handed it to her.

She only stared at him.

"Well, you need some lubricating, I should think. You look like you're about to faint," Haddler said.

And you offer me hot tea? Lise was about to demand, but she bit her tongue.

Despite his slight tease, he was in more earnest than ever. So she took it, and to her surprise it was not steaming because it was hot, it was steaming because it was ice-cold— the perfect sun tea actually, and indeed it reflected the sun in its warm tea-stained glow as she looked upon its shifting surface settling in the cup now in her hands. As she tasted it, it had lemon and sugar and English breakfast freshness.

"There's no hurry, you know," said Haddler as Lise took the cup in both hands gently to drink more after her initial sip. "The heart isn't going anywhere."

"Not yet," Lise sighed, but she quickly shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Hatter."

He smiled at her wryly. It was a slip of her tongue and he knew it, but he seemed to like it just the same. Lise had to admit that she was glad that he did not look as gothically clownish as some modern interpretations have been made to illustrate him. If it had been otherwise she would have found Haddler's close proximity to be somewhat disturbing in this cold dark place. As it was, despite his silly appearance and his silly clothes, he sincerely looked like just a gentleman concerned for a lady in the most chivalrous old-school manner with a few added eccentricities. Nor did he look like a Victorian "chibi" caricature, despite Tenniel's cartoonish brilliance, but he was a Hatter. She was beginning to see that despite his claims, he liked being called Hatter too. And more than that, he had heard her say, 'Not yet', and although his concern for her was sincere there was a look of suspicion that was only just too human.

She looked away and handed him back his tea cup.

"No, you just go right on and finish it," he insisted. "Remember this is a picnic, right?"

She raised a brow. That tone was truly sarcastic now, even if playfully so.

"Why not right here in the pipe, eh?" he asked. "They must like it fairly dank where you come from."

"'Twinkle, twinkle little bat'?" offered Lise idly.

"'Rat', more like it," said Haddler, as though not understanding the reference, but she knew without a doubt that he did. "At least until we get to the heart chamber."

Now he was the one who had a secret reference, it seemed, because Haddler acted quite as though he meant something by it that was deeply emphatic. She did not bother to ask him, though.

Simply, she drank her tea, and Haddler proceeded to take off his pack and push buttons to release turkey and cucumber sandwiches with a spicy but very fresh chimichurri sauce and a pair of crisp apples. Perhaps, the reason why he had gotten along so well during their trek was for the very reason of his pack, which surely had to be cooled by ice or some stranger measure, and it must have also kept him cool like an icepack. A blanket the size of two beach towels was also spread out onto the bottom of the pipe, and here the little rats made themselves comfortable.

But will dream food satisfy? Lise had to wonder.

She thought of the meals had by a host called Peter Pan even as she took a gratifying bite into her moist crunchy sandwich.

"I knew it was going to be hot today so I came prepared as you taste."

"Yes, thank you," said Lise. "I can even taste the red wine in the chimichurri. Do you make this yourself?"

"I made the sandwich maker than makes the sandwiches," said Haddler, "but I don't have my own brewing system yet, unfortunately. At least not for wine. It doesn't quite taste the same when you brew wine the way you brew tea."

"I can only imagine," said Lise with some sympathy.

"Twinkle, twinkle little rat," he sang after he had had most of his sandwich and two cups of sun tea.

"How I like your head to pat," said Lise.

Haddler nodded with a smile. "With your little hood fixed on…"

Lise thought a moment, and Haddler waited patiently, "Still you're fancy… to… err— on the lawn."

"I like the 'fancy' bit," said Haddler, "but there's no twinkling then, you know."

"Well, how 'bout, 'You look up with eyes like… like…'"

"'Oberon,'?" offered Haddler.

"What?"

"I wonder if the cup of Oberon would hold endless tea if you desired instead of wine…" Haddler mused at the tea that was almost gone in his cup.

He took the last sip and shrugged. "I mean if it also gives one more 'solid fare', I would imagine it could give more variety of drink."

"Some versions of Alice in Wonderland have cups that can never be full."

After Lise said it she wondered suddenly if she would trigger some strange response from Haddler to mention some things, but he seemed as unaffected by the comment as he did by the bringing up of Oberon.

"Awful," was all he muttered. "Must be the horror type of story of thirsts that are never quenched. In those types of stories people never think to just drink from the source without bothering with the cup as a middleman. I know there are good manners and all but one would think that it was sheer stupidity rather than good graces as the cause of not simply putting one's mouth to a spout in dire need."

Lise shrugged and nodded in agreement; though she really was not certain what sort of stories he was referring to.

"Well, I think we've lingered here long enough. Are you feeling rested, Alice?"

Lise winced and cocked her head.

"Oh, excuse me, 'Lise'!" Haddler said with a playful tip of his hat as he stood up.

She let him help her to her feet.

"You know, I'm beginning to wonder," said Lise despite herself.

"Wondering is the mind's way of wandering," shrugged Haddler. "And we don't have Time for that… yet." He grinned. "I want to see this interview between you and Time. He must know you're coming."

"That's one thing I've been wondering too," admitted Lise as she brushed her lap off. "But I have to ask you—"

"Up, up, up!" said Haddler and up they went, up a ladder that Lise had not seen before suddenly going straight up to a hatchway.

It took much longer than it at first looked as a new, slimmer pipe began to stretch and stretch before them. For a short time Lise thought they were getting nowhere and that this new pipe would continue to grow longer by the very act of someone climbing the ladder. Then suddenly a door drew close as the pipe gave up its race against them. She looked down and saw that they had indeed climbed very far. The door looked back as she lifted her head to peak past Haddler's shoes and coattail.

There was another form coming down through the gleam of the glass!

"Hatter!" Lise shouted, but as he stopped, she stopped and so did the figure coming upside down towards them.

The newcomer's hat looked just like the one of the head of Haddler who turned to look over his shoulder just the unknown was doing.

A reflection, of course!

Lise sighed.

"Yes?" asked Haddler in alarm. "What is it?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Lise assured him with a shake of her head. "Let's just continue through the looking glass."

"Through the…?" Haddler began, then looked up and pushed towards his reflection.

As his hand touched his reflection's hand, she saw that it was indeed glass, and it was also solid. He pushed it up just like a hatch, and continued to climb as out the top of a submarine.

Lise rolled her eyes. Of course, she had to be wrong about that.

"Almost there," Haddler's voice echoed muffled from above. "It would have done no good going through the glass and cutting ourselves."

Once he was outside the pipe, he turned around and reached down for Lise's hand to help her up the rest of the way.

"You're still doing this on purpose somehow," Lise muttered.

"Doing what? Bringing you to speak with Time? I'm beginning to wonder myself, you know, whether or not this will all strike us back twelve times over."

But Lise did not answer as she felt a sudden change overcome her when she left the hatch. It was almost like the change of plunging down through a hole into the ocean for scuba diving. A chill swept through her. All the heat was gone. The air was instantly different. All the moisture dried up, and the vastness was reduced to a sense of true claustrophobia as the space was round and tight with no other forms of exits.

The hatch sealed beneath her with a mocking bark or two, and the feeling of being trapped overwhelmed her a moment. Haddler as she looked at him did not look so much trapped as nervous as he took a handkerchief only now to wipe some sweat from his brow where he had had absolutely none before in the sweltering heat.

The ticks and the tocks echoed now through the walls of this… not so much chamber as a curved corridor; unless the middle wall was really an object taking up most of the room. If she stepped back against the far wall, she could see empty space above what seemed like the inner wall as though an antique submarine really was sitting there.

"Is this the Heart Chamber?" asked Lise in little more than a breath.

Haddler smiled and shrugged, and leading her round in silence, he showed her to another hatchway much like the one they had entered, but this time it was into the wall, and he hesitated. This made Lise hesitate too.

"What will Time do if he's not happy with us?" asked Lise.

"I told you, I'm not allowed to speak with him," said Haddler solemnly. "So I dare not. Now that we're here I'm not so sure you should dare so much yourself unless you're sure you know what you're truly daring."

Lise looked at him. Then said quietly, "It's what I came here to do, Mr. Haddler."

"Oh, now you use 'Mr. Haddler'," Haddler muttered.

"And I think that even if you don't speak, you should come with me."

Haddler winced.

"You're not afraid, are you?" asked Lise.

"No," said Haddler simply and rather indignantly. "The worse that could happen is that time would stop again."

"Well, what time is it?"

Taking out his watch Haddler said, "Exactly Five-thirty."

"Well, then we're pleasantly early, aren't we?" said Lise stepping right in through the door to the shocking change from cold to hot and steamy all over again.

The ticking and the tocking was almost unbearable now, and as Haddler came in behind her, the door sealed them in again. This time she could not help but feel as though they had walked right into a giant tea kettle, except that in the middle there it was and there was no mistaking it— the Heart of Heartland was steeping— the core of the this clockwork planetoid! But there was one more thing that happened that she had not been expecting at all.

She realized just then that she was lifting right off of the floor.