Authors: Cameron Jace
"A regular Alice in Wonderland paperback," I tilt my head, then flip through it. "It's a library copy. It has a British library's stamp on it."
"Good," he nods. "Where is the British library located?”
“In London?”
“Right. What else do you see?"
"Someone borrowed this book yesterday," I can see the date on the inlaid card. "I didn't know libraries write borrowing dates inside their books."
"They don't," the Pillar explains. "Someone wants us to know the date. What else do you see?"
"There is a map tucked between the pages. It's old, and it looks like it’s been drawn by hand. A map of Oxford University." I unfold it. "A place called Christ Church, to be exact. One location is circled in red," I stop and resist the peak in my pulse. The read circle has the face of a grinning cat on it. "Is the book another message from the Cheshire?"
"It is. What does it say under the cat with the grin in the map?" the Pillar doesn't waste time.
"It says: 'We're All Mad Here.’"
“Clichéd to the bone, isn’t it?” the Pillar smiles faintly.
"There is an arrow pointing to a location underneath. What is all that? I don’t understand."
"That's Cheshire the Cat's most recent message," the Pillar says. "He is playing with open cards now, knowing you and I are in the picture."
"Should we be looking for something where the arrow points?"
"Indeed," the Pillar puffs. "You're going to follow that trail today."
"I am? I thought it's my first day at college," I say.
"College sucks. First days, indeed. Saving lives doesn't."
"Who said anything about saving lives?" I inquire. “It’s just a map. I am assuming it leads to a treasure or something.”
"You’re wrong. This book was found in the hands of another dead girl this morning."
"What? Different than the one he killed in Christ Church two days ago?"
"Yes. In London, next to the British library. They’re going to announce it on the news later. For some reason, he left evidence to show the girl is dead, but took her with him."
"Is that his way of mocking the world, sending messages with dead girls?"
"In his case, he is grinning at the world. He wants us to discover something in that location he circled," the Pillar says. "I believe it's another girl he has trapped somewhere."
"Why is he killing those girls? What does he want?"
"I have no idea what he wants with the girls. But I think he is also testing you, Alice."
"Why would he test me?" I feel anger seeping through my pores.
"He wants to know if you're the real Alice," the Pillar's gaze is stripped of any emotion.
I consider all the possibilities of who I really am for a moment. Then I dare the Pillar's eyes back, "You realize it's my first day among sane people," I say, thinking about what I am getting myself into.
"If you’ve survived parasites and bacteria until the age of nineteen, you can survive sane people." He draws on his pipe.
"But you realize this is bit too much for me. I don't want to end my first day being called insane in the sane world."
"You're caring too much about people, Alice," he says. "Take it from me: sane is mundane, insanity is the new black."
I can't even smile at his absurd comment. Saving someone is a big responsibility. I am not sure I can save myself. All that I can think of is this: "What would the real Alice do?"
"Save the girl, of course."
Chapter 17
Outside the Radcliffe Lunatic Asylum, Oxford
When Tom Truckle opens the asylum's door for me, I shield my eyes from the sun. Although weak against the snow, its rays feel hot on my face. We haven't met for so long, I guess that’s why.
My legs are stiff as the cold breeze outside licks at my face, like an unfriendly dog. The idea of facing the sane world again isn't as exciting as I would have thought. I feel like I am missing the dim-lit corridors and the crazy faces of patients. Watching people walking around me in suits and coats just doesn't feel right. I wonder if evolution wasn't from ape to man, but from insane to sane.
I take a deep breath and step outside. The sound of the door closing behind me echoes in the back of my head. I feel disconnected, left alone in this new world. I find it ironic, wanting to escape the asylum before. If the wardens only knew I'd feel so intimidated. I wonder if that is why the Pillar always returns. Is it possible he couldn't make it among the sane, so he began killing them?
I walk to the first bus station with books in my hands. I haven't even looked at them. It feels good standing among people and waiting for a bus though. No one knows I am insane. No one cares who I am. I hope it's going to be easy fooling them that I am one of them. One of the privileges of not knowing who you are is that you can pretend to be anyone you like.
Getting on the bus, I pay for my ride to Oxford University, which isn't that far from the Radcliffe Asylum—people outside call it the Warneford hospital. I guess they’re embarrassed to say “asylum.” Money feels funny in my hands.
If I give you this slice of paper, you let me on the bus?
It’s ridiculous.
I pick a seat by the window in the last row, and sit. I'm used to sitting with my back against my cell's walls. Last rows suit me fine. I make sure I don't pull my knees to my chest and bury my head in my hands, like I usually do. It reminds me that I am lonely out here without my Tiger Lily.
I don't know how I'd feel if someone sits next to me. Proximity with others doesn't sound like a good idea now. I haven’t sat close to someone for a long time. I'm not even sure I am capable of having a regular conversation with anyone. What if they ask me about a street address? What if they ask me what I am studying, or who I am? I glance at my books. They’re mostly psychology and philosophy books. One of them is a children’s novel though. It's called: There is a Mad Girl at the End of this Book. It makes me laugh. I take it that it's the Pillar's doing.
My phone buzzes. I look around, as if I am doing something wrong. Everyone's phone buzzes. I am just not used to it. I pick it up. It's a message from the Pillar. Next to a mental health hotline, he is the only one on my contact list. The Pillar doesn't stop playing with me.
“Doing alright?” his message reads.
“A little uncomfortable with being around people,” I write, having a hard time typing on the phone's small touch keypads.
“Do you see a rabbit with a watch, late for an appointment?”
“No.” I giggle, and I think people notice.
“Then you’re alright. You're a psychology student with exceptionally high grades in high school, in case someone asks you.”
“Why psychology?”
“Most serial killers and criminals study psychology at some point. It's easier to spot them that way,” he writes. “I want you among them.”
“Did the Cheshire Cat study it?”
“Definitely. Tell me, what do you see around you, Alice?”
“Trees, pavement, and people walking outside my window.”
“And the passengers on the bus?”
“Normal people. I see an old woman who just bought some groceries. A young couple, probably heading to the university, too. A middle-aged man with a suitcase. He looks like a professor. And a few other regular people.”
“All sane?”
“I take this is a joke,” I smile as I write. “How do I know?”
“Sane people care too much about silly things, Alice,” the Pillar writes. “Is the professor checking his tie and jacket, maybe the suitcase? Does he look insecure about his looks?”
“He is checking his tie actually,” I write, and look around to see if the Pillar is on the bus, but he isn't.
“The couple. Are they holding hands? Do they look worried, not comfortable with others seeing them together?”
“No. They are chatting casually,” I write.
“Does one of them react more to the other? Look harder, Alice. Is one of them talking, making more of an effort to please the other?”
“Yes,” I write. “But that's normal. Why are you asking?”
“I'm not asking. I'm teaching you how to spot Wonderland Monsters. They don't have these human emotions and insecurities. A Wonderland Monster’s face is void of life. For instance, if you meet the Cheshire Cat, you'll know him from his grin. It will be an empty grin, void of these simple emotions you notice about the people on the bus.”
“The Wonderland Monsters look like normal people?” I write.
“At this time in history, yes. They are reincarnated in normal looking humans. It doesn't make them sane or friendly, though.”
“That’s reassuring :p.”
“Oh, you still remember emoticons. Where are you?”
“Close to Christ Church, like the map indicates. Should I get out there?” I write, making silly conversation. Having him on my phone isn't a bad idea. He keeps me company.
“Exactly. Once you reach St. Aldates Street, watch for the bus station closest to the Tom Tower, one of the college's most important entrances,” the Pillar says. I remember Dr. Truckle saying the Pillar made someone jump off the Tom Tower. “If my timing is correct, the bus should be stopping there in about five seconds,” he interrupts my thought.
The Pillar is right about the timing. I wonder how. The bus stops at St. Aldates Street. It's a beautiful entrance to Christ Church's College. A couple of students beat me to the door, as my stiffened legs are pondering if I really want to do this. I shrug, and it feels like I have a lump in my throat. Stepping out of the bus looks like a big commitment to catch a crazy killer.
Suddenly, a boy bumps into me from behind. "Don't act like a tourist," he whispers in my ear. "Or they'll figure out who you really are."
His voice sends a strange shiver to my soul. A good one, although I can sense he's arrogant, and too sure of himself. Before I turn around to look at him, I notice he smells of playing cards.
Chapter 18
St. Aldates Street, Tom Tower Entrance, Christ Church, Oxford University
It's not the most amazing smell, but it reminds me of old books and things as ancient as human souls. The boy pushes me ahead to get off the bus with the other students. I don't have a chance to tilt my head and see his face.
"Goodbye, fat, old, and obnoxious bus driver, whatever your name is," he salutes the driver and nudges me off the bus as it hits the road again. I am surprised the bus driver doesn’t slam back at the boy’s rudeness.
On the ground, I turn around and flash my angry face at the boy. Something I am very good at. "Who the heck do you think you...?" All of a sudden, I can't speak. The boy wears a hoodie like me, and he has this peculiar smile. Peculiar in what way, I can't put my finger on it. It's like a soft smirk of mischief that is softened by the dimples on both cheeks. It makes him look familiar and oddly trustworthy. I can't yell at him. I wonder if that’s why the bus driver took his insult lightly.
As the moment freezes, the boy looks down at me. A strand of black hair dangles on his forehead as he hangs onto his backpack. It's a funny bag with all kinds of playing cards glued to it. They're all Jacks of Diamonds. I guess that's where the smell comes from. It's really silly. It doesn't match his good looks.
"Wow, girl,” he breaks the silence. “We’re not even going to kiss yet. I need comfort, dates, and little cuddling before I go there.”
“What?” my face tenses. I can’t seem to shake off what people around me say. I feel insulted by his remarks. Did I really get lost in his attractive face that much? “I don’t even know you.”
“After all we’ve been through on the bus?” his eyes widen, and he cups his mouth with one hand. “I was so close to dying for you. All you had to do was ask.”
“You’d die for me?” I blink my puzzled eyes. “You just weren’t ready to kiss me?”
“So you changed your mind about the kiss,” his smirk is the devil, his dimples are angels.
“Urgh,” I sigh skyward, almost fisting my hands.
“You don’t have to get his permission,” he acts puzzled, looking at the sky above. “Jesus must have kissed somebody.”
“Jesus?” My face is red, I wonder why I am not just walking away from the embarrassment.
“Jesus,” he repeats. “The guy who saved the world and looks as good as me.”
“This is nonsense!” I freak out. Should I tell him I just left an asylum? Damn my feet. Why am I not walking away?
“I love nonsense.” He pulls his hood back, and holds me by the arms. “You know there is an actual science to it?”
My phone rings. It’s probably the Pillar.
"Oh, you have a boyfriend?" the arrogant boy says, as I am already checking it.
“No,” I can’t remember which pocket in my jeans I tucked the phone in.
“Awesome!” he rubs his hands.
“I mean yes,” I find the phone in my back pocket. I feel guilty not mentioning Adam. Why in the world do I feel like that, if I don’t remember him?
“Bugger,” the boy pouts, and I realize I don’t want him to leave.
“I mean, no.”
“Oh,” he tilts his head back. “You’re not insane, are you?”
I don’t answer. My lips are tied, then I push the green button to answer the Pillar.
"His name is Jack Diamonds," the Pillar says on the other line. "He's a big distraction. Get rid of him. We don't have time."
"But..." I don't know how to explain my curiosity about Jack to the Pillar. Before I even ponder the thought, a number of students rush out from another bus and I find myself pushed through the main entrance with them. When I tiptoe to see Jack again, he's gone.
Chapter 19
Garden, Christ Church, Oxford University
"Right now you’re walking under the famous Tom Tower,” the Pillar plays my tourist guide on the phone. “It was designed by Christopher Wren, who was also the architect of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London.”
“Alright?” I remind myself that I am on a mission, and that I might never see Jack again.
“The Tom Tower is a major tourist attraction. I can spend all day long telling you about it. One of the things is that it houses the Great Tom, the loudest bell in Oxford.”