JMJ

Chapter Fifteen

Storm inside a Teacup

Malady had a little fleece

Whose lamb was white as jade

And everywhere Nick Sardine went

The stench was sure to raid.

It landed in the washing tub

And blew out from the dryer,

Then to sneeze and scratch the whole day long,

The children began to tire.

The shearer blamed the cure

So he would not be blamed;

Thus leaving all to Nick Sardine

To doctor who'd been maimed.

Adhikari was not sure when he went from falling to waking. He was not sure of where he was waking to before he heard quite firmly these three verses playing somewhere as though from an old horror movie. His sense of sight was all grayness, though he was definitely somewhere enclosed, long, and earthen. The smell of dirt however sweet was overpowering. He was standing in some sort of tunnel, he then realized just as the last words faded out; though he was not sure if he had landed on his feet like a cat, materialized here, or had picked himself up off of that bed of leaves near at hand without being fully conscious of it.

There was the pitter-pattering of feet behind him, but he did not turn to what he knew was the White Rabbit continuing to run along this burrow. There was even some sense of light behind him, but he remained fixed looking into the hollow blackness from which he knew with full positivity that the song had emanated from. He recalled the elusive conversation between the White Rabbit and Dr. Donner about a Nick Sardine; though, he was not sure anymore what they had said about it. He was not sure of very much at the moment, except that he wished to know where the poem had come from, who had recited it and why.

Thus he took a step forward despite a tingle of wariness. He took another step that was easier and another and another, and soon all fears were subdued in not gone entirely. Curiosity took its full grip, as well as a little anger. That Nick Sardine, whoever that was, was somehow responsible for all this, he felt sure, and as he had evidently got to the bottom of all this physically, he felt it high time to get to the bottom of this figuratively.

Forget a talking rabbit, he thought to himself; though he suddenly had to wonder if perhaps Nick Sardine really was a talking fish.

He paused just as he was rounding a bend to brush off what apparently was a loose dried leaf from his hair. It was oak and still stiff and strong as he let it fall feather-like to the floor.

He could not stand straight up in here, but he stood as straight he could and put his hand on the roof of the tunnel where his thick black hair brushed up against roots. The further he went the more burrow-like the surroundings were becoming. As he took a few more steps he felt like he was in some sort of bear den. Then suddenly he heard clicking like the end of a record on a record player.

There it was after he cleared the curve. The record player sat in the middle of the path and looked as gleaming as new and certainly out of place. He knelt down on one knee to touch the mechanism and turn it off to inspect the record itself, but just as he graced the surface of the arm of it, he heard something downright thump behind him. For a split second he almost thought it was a heartbeat, but as he spun around, he cried out to see that White Rabbit once again who had bounded within two feet's proximity to him with the look of a parent finding a child within inches of sticking his head into a bear trap.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"'On earth'?" demanded Adhikari as he steadied himself against the rounded burrow-wall on his feet again. "'What on earth'? You can't possibly look me in the face and tell me that we're on earth!"

"Well, we're in the earth, I suppose, at the moment," remarked the Rabbit with a roll of his eyes.

"And you can't possibly tell me that you did not know that I was following you," said Adhikari further.

"Hmph!" said the Rabbit. "I was hoping you'd stop at the closet. Apparently your laboratory is more in a nexus than I thought it was! But I can guarantee you that we are still on earth. Wondering doesn't float one off into the unknown universe, after all. Even most science fiction is all based on earthly things. Humans can't imagine anything but a mixture or flip-flop of things they've already seen! But what were you doing just now!"

"I—" Adhikari turned, but stopped in alarm as he saw that the record player, record and all, had completely vanished without so much as a mark in the dirt.

He blinked and turned to the Rabbit and back around again.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"What was what?" the Rabbit demanded back. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Well, it's too late now unless you can tell me how to get out of here."

"It's not that simple for a being from the real world," said the Rabbit.

"That's not an answer."

"Well, you didn't answer me," the Rabbit declared. "And I don't have time to babysit you, nor am I particularly fond of the idea. I'm not exactly amused by you purposely impersonating me. In your world I believe it's now called identity theft! But I must go back to the queen at once to tell her that your Dr. Donner is not interested in desisting in his work in attempting to tamper with Wonder itself!"

"I was looking at a record player that disappeared into thin air," said Adhikari staunchly.

"I don't see a record player," said the Rabbit.

"You don't believe me?" Adhikari sneered. "Here? In Wonderland?"

"I didn't say I didn't believe you, but things are not what they seem even more to you than to a child," said the Rabbit rather somberly now as he checked his watch for time; then he paused briefly and made a decision. "I'll take you somewhere safe as long as you don't go tampering around— literally or literarily, especially in accordance to your academia— until I can get back to you, but I don't see how it matters now."

"It matters to me," said Adhikari.

"To get back to your laboratory or to the real world?" the Rabbit challenged.

"Who is Nick Sardine?" Adhikari demanded suddenly.

The Rabbit went silent and wrinkled back his little pink nose with distaste enough to make Adhikari wonder if he suddenly smelled bad fish just from the mention of this creature's name.

"You'll meet him soon enough if you're not careful," the Rabbit muttered turning around and going back the way he had came from.

He obviously was not going to wait for Adhikari. Though Adhikari looked once more to where the record player had been, he did not linger. With a sigh, the man took care to follow the animal at his rather rapid pace.

"What does that mean, Rabbit?"

"It means you usually find what you're seek in Wonderland even if it's not in the way you think it should be found," said the Rabbit simply.

As they hurried along back around the curve, Adhikari could see that the burrow tunnel was changing rapidly into a more proper corridor. First it was an earthen one like in some sort cellar, but as they passed the bed of leaves, it began to be more and more like a corridor in a fine establishment until it became a bit gaudy. Red and navy blue tiles were on the floor like the backs of cards from different eras, though never an exact one from Human history as far as Adhikari could tell. An acorn style seemed to dominate as though to evoke the idea that one was inside a burrow beneath a tree. Ornate lamps lit the way along the walls above the palace-styled wainscoting. A Victorian-styled wallpaper adorned the upper walls with floral twists and turns, oyster shells, roses, rocking-horses flies, and what looked like pillowed tarts; though of the latter he could not be certain. Magnificent doors lined the way as well and as stalwartly as suits of armor with matching floral doorknobs in antique brass. The equally matching hinges had fat square corners to emphasize the heaviness of these doors. At the end of it all was a low regal red curtain patterned so faintly in flowery hearts that at certain angles they were invisible, and Adhikari knew the tale of Wonderland enough to deduce the sort of door beyond it.

"What are beyond the other doors?" Adhikari found himself muttering aloud in a sort of drunken manner.

The Rabbit turned in a swivel round his foot quite dexterously and raised a quizzical brow.

"I'm sorry that this is too much for you to handle," the Rabbit remarked, and reaching onto the glass table that was certainly not there before, he took a crystal phial that looked quite like a perfume bottle and handed it to Adhikari.

"I'm not drinking that."

"Then you'll have to stay here," said the Rabbit indignantly.

"Can't you unlock the other doors?" asked Adhikari; for unlike the one behind the curtain the other door were properly sized.

"They can only be opened from the other ends," said the Rabbit.

"I don't believe that."

"I don't care."

Adhikari turned suddenly.

He had to at least try one of the doors, but sure enough the door he chose was locked and far too solidly to move at all. The second one he tried was just the same, and although part of him would have liked nothing better than to try every single one, he knew it was fruitless and he did not need the White Rabbit's impatient sigh for anything.

He turned back to the Rabbit, who had not moved, and although he hesitated, he reached out his hand. The Rabbit handed him the phial.

It was not a disagreeable drink, but he had to admit that it was the absolute strangest thing he had ever tasted and made him think of Willy Wonka. He had the smallest sip, but he clung to the hope that he would stick to Wonderlandian rules rather than a certain chocolate factory so that he would become less in bodyweight rather than a giant human blueberry; for it was quite like drinking a whole meal at once in a smoothie except in a manner that was uniquely tasty. It was a bit like a mixture of a Thanksgiving dinner with pineapple sauce in place of cranberry and no gravy at all, and an old fashioned English tea time of dainties and buttered toast, but without the tea itself.

#

The sky was darkening. At first Esther thought it was in her mind, but then again, this was Wonderland.

She blinked at her own thoughts.

Or at least it's not reality and all our minds may dictate what's here in the most unreliable way, she quickly added.

It did not change the shadow upon the once blinding scene. Clouds were rolling in like the clouding brow of a child along the horizon, and more quickly than it seemed fully natural, though still slow enough to contemplate it. The sunlight itself was becoming evening-like as though sunset was eminent. For a moment as she looked across the sea she almost forgot it was tea as she suddenly felt the weight of the whole body of liquid no matter what it was. She was never a seafarer herself much less a teafarer, but the thought of being in this fragile porcelain "boat" in bad weather without any defined beach to even wash upon in case of a cup-wreck did not bode well with her.

The coming breeze, though gentle, would have been welcomed on her flushed hot face, but it was hinting at a gale, teasing her skin into chills. The goose bumps did not rise until she felt a hot hand on her arm.

It was Matthias motioning her around to the teafarers.

"I just wanted to tell you not to be afraid," said the Elephant.

How he snuck up on them, she could not fathom.

"Afraid of what?" breathed Esther.

The Elephant jumped back, and the swaying of the cup made Esther uneasy in a way that it had not before this point. She hated to admit it, but though she had nearly stepped away from Matthias, she suddenly felt comfort in his stepping out in front of her with one hand still on her arm as though for some valiant rescue.

But it was the weather she was afraid of, not the self-conscious Elephant wringing his trunk apologetically as he realized that the swaying caused by him had upset the passengers more than his words had.

"Well, I just meant about our destination. The Sittea-Dell is very careful with its inoculations and all. I've been knocked so many times that I don't even feel the top of my head anymore."

He patted the top of his head with his trunk.

"They inject shots into your head?" asked Esther after her jaw dropped a little.

"Shots?" asked the Elephant with grave confusion, and so atmospherically in this atmospheric breeze and lighting that despite herself Esther almost laughed.

"I think he means like some good becudgelations," Matthias explained with a snort.

Esther closed her eyes. "You mean, 'knockulate'?"

"The confustigations would make sense then with everyone being knocked almost completely senseless," Matthias smiled as he turned to her with full cheek.

Esther frowned at the Elephant as the fear of being completely walloped by some hammer went through her mind in a wave and vanished again. The real waves were more a concern at the moment, and the other teafarers seemed to agree as they all came rushing at once to the Elephant.

"Why aren't you helping?" demanded the Maltipook.

"What are you worried about?" the Teacup Pig squealed. "You can swim better than the rest of us."

"As a horse as much as dog," chided the Chalingosauras, but his focus was more on the Elephant. "Now, a storm is brewing, and we don't have time to fight about it."

"They don't want to be inoculated, though," shrugged the Elephant.

The sky was getting darker still, and Esther turned to Matthias. Matthias turned back, the wind now catching in his messy reddish hair as though to scalp him.

"I'll inoculate you!" snapped the Maltipook taking a spoon from below the whisk boards into his teeth.

"Evacuate him!" squealed the Pig pulling up a hand-held vacuum cleaner.

"Evaporating would be better," the Elephant admitted with a sigh.

"Eviscerating is all that a vacuum could accomplish at best," warned the Chalingosauras proudly. "Now let's get prepared before we're overturned!"

"Yes!" barked the Maltipook between his teeth still latched to the spoon. "I always wanted an excuse to have a mutiny!"

"Well, you are the mutant!" scoffed the Pig. "Besides, the Chalingosauras is in charge, not Red."

The Chalingosauras turned a little red himself in exasperation at the Maltipook who soon had his tail between his legs.

"Now, now!" said Matthias suddenly leaving Esther's side.

The teacup began to rock uneasily, and Esther nearly grabbed him back. Instead she only grabbed the side of the cup behind her in a sway and gave up.

"There's no need to bring idioms into this," Matthias insisted unaware of her inner turmoil.

He held out his hands quite diplomatically as he stepped between the fray of animals like Moses between the waves of the Red Sea, and the animals certainly leapt back enough to cause a splash all round the cup so that even Matthias had to steady himself uneasily with a most remarkable expression of doubt. It passed like the waves, though, and clearing his throat most expressively still, he said with a tight grin, "Pettiness will only fondle calamity."

"Nor should one calumniate tea about this," scoffed the Chalingosauras.

"Oh, you've done enough of that already," shrugged Matthias sagaciously, "but I trust that you are prac-tea-cal enough to agree that we should work in mu-cha-alliance instead of hospital-ably-tea, right?"

"There are at least a few idiots," said the Chalingosauras. "You have a habit of being very stupid about your etymologies enough to throw you into the brew, but you are becoming a bit of a pet peeve. I'll humor you enough for that."

"Thank you," sneered Matthias with a bow as he pretended not to be missing his hat.

"Alright, now, you heard the strange little man," said the Chalingosauras. "Let's keep the storm outside the teacup, shall we?"

"They still will fight the inoculations, afterwards!" snapped the Maltipook too riled up to be reasoned with.

As he jumped with a growl, he landed right on the Elephant's foot, and it was also just at that moment that a lightning bolt struck the green sky.

"I've been struck!" cried the Elephant with a loud trumpeting into the abysmal thunder that followed, where it was swallowed up in an instant in the roar of waves and wind. "I'm electrocuted! Electrocuted!"

And as he swung round, a great wave came up along the side of the cup. The sky swung as though on a cosmic swing set, but Esther knew it was worse than all that even if far more idiomatic. The cup was in fact overturned. Down everyone went into the tea like cracker crumbs in the rumbling hot bubbles or churned like bubbles themselves into a giant hot tub— or as the Chalingosauras might say or might scoff at equally, a Cha-cuzzi.

Esther could not believe her own mind thinking such puns as she was spiraling into what could be her death, but again she felt Matthias' hand, and just as he grabbed it, they landed.

She threw open her eyes like a pair of windows in violence at the violently unexpected anticlimactic end of it all. The waves were gone, the sea sickness vanished and the roar of the wind and the wetness and the heat. All was snuffed out like a candle under a snuffer. And here she was rolling gently on solid ground. Grass was actually beneath her, and in the sweetness of pine and the freshness of green air, the pair were suddenly sprawled out in the silence of what might have been a quiet town park.

What surprised Esther most of all, even though she knew it should not have, was that when she looked the way they had been thrown from, she did not see nothing. She would have accepted nothing far more even if it would have been more natural in other circumstances to have expected a beach of white sand and crashing waves on the shoreline. All around them was solid earth, stone, and woodland, but the one thing that was alarming was a small but beautiful little white tea cup tipped over onto its side. Its contents of tea were spilled into the ground like a libation of apology to the half-drowned Esther and Matthias, and only a small drip remained to stain the inside of the cup.