Death of the Mad Hatter, page 25
“Miss, can you free me?” I asked, raising my feet in the air so she could see the shackles.
The hag set her knitting down and walked over to me, dragging a ball and chain behind her. “His locks are impervious to everyone unless he teaches them how to break it, Mad Hatter.”
“Name’s Ryley.”
“But you are known by many other names, boy with the girl’s name,” she said, coming closer. “The Heir. The, second, Mad Hatter. Nicknames and aliases are just as important as true names, maybe even more important.”
“What’s your name?”
“Genevine. I’m the infamous seamstress.”
Her clothes were stained; they had some resemblance of what Alice Mae would wear. The cloth appeared expensive, minus the stains. Spiders crawled from her hair and crept over her clothes. I shuddered in disgust, but managed to keep the repulsed thoughts from being expressed on my face.
“After the beheading of M.H, Hearts decided she wanted to keep a closer watch on me. I’ve been living in this place ever since.” Her wild hair hid much of her face, but a glimpse of sorrow showed in her eyes. “You would have liked your uncle, Eddie. It’s a pity Hearts killed him before you were born. But, I suppose if you ever want to see him, all you have to do is look in the mirror.”
“You knew my uncle?”
“He’s about as bright as that girl,” said a spider riding on her shoulder.
“Oh hush, Alfred. He knows nothing about the love Eddie and I had before the queen killed him,” Genevine said to the spider.
“You are the reason that the king lost his head?” I asked.
“See, I told you that Robby told him nothing about Wonderland,” Genevine said. “Any information he knows is only because Al told him.”
“Where is Alice Mae?” I asked, hoping she fended better than I had. At least she had the bat for protection. Hopefully, it did her a little bit of good.
A clang drove my attention to the floor below the circular hole in the ceiling. My bat, “slightly” altered, lay on the floor. Rusty nails had been hammered through the bat, sticking out in all directions. Only a narrow spot at the end was nail-free.
“No point in wondering where Al is at now,” Genevine whispered. “You have a date with destiny.”
“I’m not going to die in this madhouse,” I said.
“That will be a true tragedy then,” Alfred said. “Because then the madness will never stop.”
“Bottom’s up!” The Joker yelled from the ceiling.
Genevine looked up at the ceiling and cursed. I liked her a little more because of that. “Do you love Al—really love her?”
“Enough to come to this hell-hole and keep her from dancing to her death,” I replied.
“The Hare convinced you then, that the impossible was possible—like stopping time or that love was worth a beheading?” Genevine asked, watching the Joker slid down the pole.
I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone insist on talking in riddles? “I swear that loving Alice Mae is impossible.”
“Yet, you do?” Alfred said, looking at me with all his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Then I shall tell the others.”
“Tell the others what?”
“That the impossible has been done,” Genevine said and hurried away to her place by the bouncy castle.
When the Joker reached the floor, he raised his hands in the air as if to say ta-da. He pranced around in a baseball uniform that could have been on exhibit at a museum.
“That was a nifty trick you did, flipping the bat in the air, care to show me?” the Joker asked.
“I would, but my hands are in shackles.”
“Oh, I can fix that,” he said, pulling a bobby pin from his sleeve.
As he picked the lock, I contemplated climbing the pole to escape, which didn’t sound enjoyable since my hands were burned. I glanced over at the chair where Genevine had been sitting. She was gone, as was every single spider from the bouncy castle. Where had they gone?
The Joker leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “I can practically hear your screaming thoughts of escape. It’s been quite some time since I had such an enthusiastic playmate. Genevine refuses to play with me. She’d rather hide in the castle I made for her. So please, try to escape. I have so many neglected toys I’ve been dying to play with.”
“Why did you make her a bouncy castle?” I asked, hoping to distract him.
“Well, she wanted to be queen, after all. Bump Hearts off the throne and marry Eddie. So, I thought it only fitting she should have a castle to live in when she’s not making exquisite dresses for Hearts.”
“She makes dresses for Hearts?”
“Well, she is the most talented seamstress since M.H. choked on a blade.”
The lock clicked. My hands were free. Before standing up, I weighed my options. The madman clearly wanted someone to torture, and I had no intention of being said person. I pointed to the shackles around my feet.
“Think you could work your magic on these?”
“I could,” he said. His smile lost its charm when he snarled. “But I won’t. Odds won’t be in my favor.”
He walked over to the staged area and pulled back the curtain. It revealed a large collection of knives, swords, and disfigured blades. The Wall of Weapons was written across the top. He unveiled an object the size of a piano. Underneath it was a large chopping blade—the guillotine.
I shuffled over to my deformed bat. I picked it up, testing the weight.
“Do you like the modifications?” the Joker asked, watching me with curiosity.
“I don’t think a ball will recoil quite as nice when hit,” I said.
“Shall we test it out?” the Joker asked and threw a pink bouncy ball.
Instinctually, I got into batting stance and swung at the ball. Pink gel burst from the ball, covering me in jelly. It burned upon contact. It ate through my clothes, but I was more concerned about the gel melting my skin. Swearing under my breath, I charged the Joker. The madman laughed and wiggled his finger at me, encouraging me to strike him.
When he was an arm’s reach away, I swung. He chucked a smoke bomb by his feet and disappeared. My bat hit nothing. He reappeared on the third base and waved.
Even though I didn’t know where Alice Mae was, she still managed to crawl into my mind. I couldn’t imagine her playing in this demented place with the Joker. I recalled that he kept her here long enough that she couldn’t return home without having to rely on candies to function. He tortured her! Ruined her life! Wrecked her childhood! He manipulated her!
I never thought myself to be a killer, but I promised that I would end this madman’s life. I could do that for Alice Mae… if it was the last thing I’d do.
“You’re going to have to be much faster than that if you’re going to catch me, Mad Hatter.”
“I AM NOT THE MAD HATTER!”
“Then you should return his hat,” the Joker said, nodding to the purple hat still on my head. “It’s not very polite to wear the clothing of a deadman.”
I pointed the bat at the Joker. “You are the deadman.”
“It’s not in the cards,” he said, revealing a tarot card from his sleeve and flinging it at me.
As it spun in the air, it grew bigger. The paper transformed into metal. The damn thing was a blade, and it was spinning head height.
I ducked, throwing the bat at the Joker as I fell. It stuck in his shoulder. He laughed wildly and jerked it out. Then, he flipped it in the air and grabbed the non-pointy end. He threw another smoke bomb on the floor. He disappeared and reappeared above me.
I had a second to react before he swung the bat down on me. I grabbed the sand and threw it in his face as I kicked my feet up to stop the bat. The nails drove into my feet. Yelling out in pain, I shoved my feet into the Joker’s chest.
“You’re never going to sit on the throne!” the Joker yelled, scrambling to get away from me. “Hearts never wanted you there. It was all a ploy to kill you once you were of age. Your death will torture your father, no matter where he calls home.”
“Yeah, I figured that one out myself,” I said, jerking the bat from my feet. It burned like a mother!
“Have you figured out the best part yet? Al is banished from Wonderland. And, she thinks you’re dead! She will live out her life thinking she’s responsible for your demise when in fact you get to be my play toy for all eternity! Isn’t it grand! She will be tortured with that thought!” he exclaimed giddily. “It is notable to mention that if she steps foot in this realm, for even a second, I have permission to kill her, so even if you manage to send word that you are still alive and she tries to rescue you, I have Hearts’ blessing to kill her! Anyone who sees her, or aides her in any way, will be tortured to the full extent of the law. And down here, there are no laws, Mad Hatter.”
The Joker just made my hit list. But, I could breathe a little easier knowing that Alice Mae was safe in the Otherworld. At least I didn’t have to search this entire castle looking for her.
“Where is Hearts, anyway?”
“Probably bossing her cats around, but don’t worry about her. She cannot help you here,” he said. “Hearts may Reign the Red Court, but it is I who specializes in Terror. However, I assure you that she’ll hear about our first play date.”
“Lovely,” I said, sarcastically. “It’s a rather fine date we are having, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t measure up to the dates I had with Al as a young girl,” the Joker said, circling me. “She tried so hard not to shed a tear, but that made it all the more satisfying when she did finally break down. Do you know what was the most rewarding?”
“Enlighten me,” I said, and stood on my feet. Stabbing pains shot through me. Blood pooled around me. My body was weak. My head was throbbing. But, my mind was raging.
The Joker grabbed a yo-yo from the ground. He tested out the recoil once before bothering to look up at me. “That she’s exactly like me even though she fights her manipulative nature. She’s like a daughter.”
I charged him again, swinging the bat like a lunatic. The Joker walked backwards, light on his toes as he anticipated my moves. We edged closer and closer to the Wall of Weapons. On the follow-through I released the bat—this time at his feet. It hit his ankles, tripping him. Just as he collided into the weapons, he released the yo-yo. The string wrapped around my neck. Falling to my knees, I grabbed at the string, but it kept sinking deeper and deeper into my skin.
My body went limp. The world felt weightless as my head teetered on my shoulders. The last person I saw before darkness clouded my vision was the Joker, dead against the wall looking much like a pin-cushion.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
(Alice Mae: Present Time)
Just like the prophecy predicted: I wept, banished in my homeland. Nothing good would happen if I returned to Wonderland, but then again I wasn’t good. I was all Wrong.
Mr. Ruth appeared on my bed with a note secured to his belly by a rubber band. Read Me was written on the outside. On the inside was a message, written on a page torn from a book so old the pages turned yellow. On the top was the title of the book Sweets for the Slithering Kind, a M.H. novel. It was the Jack’s handwriting.
The Mad Hatter, the Joker Slayer, lost his head, like every man of that family. But, rest assured, Wonderland is a place where the impossible is possible. Just because a heart no longer beats, doesn’t mean the love is lost.
The news brought me to my knees, but there was a sliver of hope that piggybacked that tragedy—Ryley killed the Joker. I snuck as much candy as possible into my backpack, but I knew it was pointless. One day I’d have to learn to live in this world without them, and then I’d embrace my straightjacket.
I thought about stopping by Ryley’s house. Lauren would be frazzled, not knowing what happened to her son. But, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell her. What was I to say? Your son was killed by an evil queen in a magical world you don’t ever want to find yourself in? I just hoped that one day the recipe I’d given Ryley would find its way to his father.
I never went back to the school. My uncompleted homework never left my backpack. Dax, Irwin, Mick, even Becky and Courtney and the rest of the school would never know what happened to their classmates.
The West Harbour Psychiatric Treatment Facility was my first and only stop. Robby Edgar was in the game room, playing with red paint. He’d created a series of lines that didn’t line up quite correctly. Moving slowly, so as not to startle him, I sat down across the table. Robby didn’t acknowledge my presence until I slid the worn, bronze watch in front of him.
He took the watch, handling it with the greatest care. Some red paint got on the metal. I suppose it was fitting. His son’s blood was spilt. My throat refused to work properly. His big, brown eyes turned black as tears filled them.
“Why do you have Ryley’s watch?” Robby asked, coldly.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. It took me several times to speak before any words came out. When my voice returned, I only managed to say, “It was his watch. Time has no meaning to the dead.”
Robby never spoke again after that. He beat the watch against the table. The metal dented. The glass shattered. Red bled onto the papers, but it wasn’t just paint anymore. The hour hand was the first to stop, but it was when the second hand stopped ticking that I willed death to come swiftly for the both of us. Even when the nurses and doctors raced to stop him, Robby didn’t stop beating his fists against the watch until it was completely destroyed. Time no longer ticked.
… Time ceased to move forward. A second carried on for infinity…
CHAPTER SIXTY
(Alice Mae: Present Time in the Waiting Room)
31,536,000 seconds—equivalent to approximately one year—ticked away in one, infinite drawn-out moment in time. It was in that never-ending moment that I fully embraced my metaphorical straightjacket. That also just so happened to be the exact amount of time it took me to instigate my revenge. It was a naive to think death was the sweetness that I craved. Oh no, I was oh so wrong. Vengeance was what I wanted all along.
M.H’s legacy revolved around making a poison taste so sweet that Hearts wouldn’t suspect that she was dying. He chose me to be his apprentice and do what he couldn’t. Every day that I did nothing, I failed him. In my rational thoughts, I decided to un-fail him once and for all.
The Waiting Room appeared exactly as it had the last time I found myself in the forsaken chamber, except for the thick layer of dust. The mermaid table still lay in ruins. Vines wiggled through the mouse door and grew up the walls. The black and white checkered tile was still just as disorienting. A few sparklers lay on the ground. The sulfur scent was just as fresh as it had been when the Joker lit them. Down was up, but up was still a little off to the side.
The only addition in the Waiting Room was the sledge hammer that still had the price tag. That was instrumental if Plan “A” fell through because Genevine forgot to put on her big girl panties. If she bailed on me, that meant I no longer had the means to get my hands on Drink Me juice. I’d need something to widen the mouse door, wouldn’t I?
While I waited for my company, I twirled around on my toes, reenacting the last dance I performed on stage. Instead of the disgruntled audience, I imagined an audience captivated by my recital.
Mr. Ruth pushed the door open, nearly knocking over the ceramic toad that guarded it. I glanced at the timepiece that I’d taped together after Robby had his way with it. The hour and second hand had been restored but the hands never moved. One can never be late if time did not tick forward.
Mr. Ruth said, “There is something you should know. It’s a secret which has been haunting me for a year and—”
“No need to share secrets, not here, not today.” I brought my finger to my lips and glanced at Theodore, just to make sure they knew I was serious about this beautifully haunting act of treason was on a need to know basis.
“I’ve misplaced my straightjacket in Wonderland.” I hoped he understood. My revenge consumed me, driving me mad. I wanted to—needed to—do something before it finished me off completely. “I have to get it back before time gets impatient with me and starts ticking again.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a little mad.”
“Little mad, good. Lots mad, blissfully dangerous.”
“Ah-ha! You admit it! Madness is bliss.” He nervously thumped his foot when I rolled my eyes. “Wonderland welcomes crazies, but there has to be other places to find refuge before time catches up with you.”
“I’m logically impared.” I shrugged my shoulders and tried not to focus on just how messed up my life had gotten. I handed him a note that was addressed to Genevine. “I belong in Wonderland. But, let’s not focus on that. This will be my last request of you, old friend. Please, don’t make me beg. Tell Genevine to follow the ingredients and instructions to the ‘T.’ I’ll be waiting in this room until she sends word that the tonic is ready.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
(Alice Mae: Present Time in Wonderland)
When the moon scared away the sun, I cracked the mouse door after someone continued to knock on it with much persistence. I expected to see Mr. Ruth standing on the other side. However, when I opened the door, I realized quite quickly that it wasn’t a knocking I heard, for no one was there. The knocking was actually the tick from a clock. But it wasn’t just one clock. There was a hallway of clocks. Old stopwatches, modern wrist watches, grandfather clocks, elaborate hanging ones. They all told a different time, but their ticks were synchronized.
Just inside the hallway were two bottles and a tiny box that was no bigger than a thumbnail. I lifted the lid. Inside was a miniature red velvet cupcake, wrapped in black tissue paper. Eat Me. I tucked it in my pocket, saving it for later.
The first bottle didn’t have a Drink Me etched on the glass, but rather there was a skull and crossbones. A snake slithered around them. I popped the cork top and sniffed the tonic. Nothing, but then again snake repellent was odorless.
