Insanity (8 page)

"It says: Eat Me." I shake my head at the silliness.

"Now that's frabjous in a very Jub Jub way," the Pillar claps his hands.

"Look, I'm not going to do it," I fist my hands and whisper with gritted teeth.

"I think you will, Alice," the Pillar says in the calmest voice I've ever heard.

"Listen, you little piece of..." I wave my forefinger in the air, and notice people tilting their heads toward me. "You little piece of caterpillar," I smile broadly at the tourists. They squint at my absurdness.

"Poor girl. She's caught into the act that she really
is
Alice," an old woman with white bushy hair tells her husband. "She even dresses like her."

"Wise woman," the Pillar laughs at me on the phone.

"The tourists think I am a loon," I turn and face Lewis Carroll's portrait, so I can talk to him privately.

"Good for you, or they’d be calling the police for suspicious activity in the Great Hall. Now be a good girl, and do what the Cheshire asks."

"Tell me one reason why I should, Professor Pillar," I challenge him. "You can’t make me."

"Please look at the back of the Cheshire’s map, and then tell me you have changed your mind." He is too sure of himself. No hint of sarcasm or insanity.

I pull the crumbled map from my pocket and flatten it upon the portrait. The heck with what people think of me. I flip it on its back and discover there is handwriting in the middle:
Either you solve my riddles fast, or the next girl dies before noon
. The message hits me like a pebble in the eye. I raise my head and gaze at the sun beyond the high windows. Its rays are almost perpendicular outside. I have so little time to save a girl from death. The sneaky Pillar knew about her from the beginning.

"Still think you're not mad, Alice?" the Pillar's voice scares me. "Because it rather takes a mad to catch a mad.”

Chapter 22

“Give me a minute to think it over.” I turn around and stare at the big block of cheese.

“A minute might be a bit too late,” the Pillar says. “Look at you, staring at the cheese like a hungry mouse. The Cheshire is probably watching you somewhere, and his plan is working so far," the Pillar's words tick in my head like a time bomb. A girl's life is at stake here. "I hope you get the irony he is conveying. Back in Cheshire County, he used to feed on the mice eating the cheese from the warehouse. By eating the cheese, you will be his little mouse now, Alice. Your reluctance isn't doing the girl any good."

"Alright. I'll take the cheese to the bathroom and cut it open with something," I pick it up from the table. "I assume there is another message inside. Like a fortune cookie, maybe."

"Alice, Alice, Alice," the Pillar sighs. "When the Cheshire says ‘eat me,’ you have to eat it. You don't have time. Just look at the sun." I tilt my head again, and see his point. I can't believe a girl's life depends on me. Who in the world am I to save a life? "Come on, pull your sleeves up, and dip into the cheese. Detach yourself from the tourists. What’s the worst that could happen: they might think you’re insane?" the Pillar is having the time of his life.

And I have to save a girl whom I don't even know.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, then sink my teeth in the cheese. It's actually delicious. I nibble on it at first, as the people around me gather to see what kind of cuckoo I am. I have no time for them. Maybe I'll have time to explain later, after I save the girl.

The nibbling turns into bites. I choose a side and bite through, waiting for a piece of paper to come my way. It doesn't.

I turn the block of cheese and bite the other side. I am trying my best not to even breathe. The sun has turned into a bomb, and keeps on ticking in my head.

More people gather around me, staring at the nineteen-year-old in a modern Alice dress gorging on cheese.

A boy picks up the Cheshire's label which has fallen from the block, and shows it to other people. "It says: Eat Me!" he laughs. "This is so awesome!"

I am biting from a third side now. I can't see the sun through the glass anymore. It’s going closer to perpendicular. Or am I just panicking?

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. I think I am going to vomit.

"It's a show." The old woman with the white bushy hair is back. "She isn't a crazy girl. It's a show, and it’s entertaining!" She begins clapping, and the tourists follow. They don't clap as in “wow, that's awesome.” They clap as if we're in a beer fest, and I am doing the polka dance.

I take a deep breath and sink in again. My head is going to explode. Why is my head ticking louder whenever I eat more chunks? I can't find the Cheshire's message. This must be cheese overdose.

"You think she'll grow taller?" another tourist asks.

"Nah," her husband says. "That's the kind of stuff they'd do in Disney."

Tick. Tock. Tick Tock.

"Interesting how mad behaviors always entertain the sane," the Pillar whispers in my ear.

"Shut up!" I yell at him, spitting Cheshire Cheese on the tourists.

They clap even harder.

"Tell me, Alice," the Pillar says. "Why is your head ticking?"

What? How can he hear the ticking in my head? Now, this is absurd.

"It's like Tick Tock, all the time," the Pillar says. "Do you have a time bomb somewhere?"

I can't believe he hears my own thoughts. I can't live this way if he truly does. Suddenly, my teeth hurt really bad. I have bitten something made of steel. My eyes widen, as I keep chugging through the cheese like chattering teeth. The message isn't a piece of paper. It's something made of steel. Finally, something falls off the cheese. A watch.

"That's why I thought I was ticking," I mumble. The tourists laugh. They're on cloud nine now.

"A watch?" the Pillar wonders. "Please tell me it is not a pocket watch, or this Cheshire’s sense of humor is atrociously absurd."

"It
is
a pocket watch," I pick it up and rub the cheese off it. "It has a rabbit drawn inside. His two hands show the minutes and the hours."

"That’s brilliant. Show me!" the old woman says.

"Don't you dare come near me," I sneer at her, and get back to the Pillar. "The watch isn't working. It stopped once I touched it, I think."

"That’s even more interesting," the Pillar says.

"Do something!" I shout at him. "We have to save the girl."

"Don't yell at me. I am not the killer here," he says. "Well, I kill people, but not this one. Tell me Alice, anything unusual about the watch?"

"Other than that it’s not working, I don't think so."

"A pocket watch that isn't working," the Pillar thinks aloud. "What time is it stuck on?"

"Six o'clock."

"That's the message," the Pillar says. "I don't really know what it means, though.”

"What? How can you not know? I thought this was some kind of sick game you were playing with the Cheshire. You have to know."

"I don't," the Pillar says firmly. "Sorry, kid. We're going to have to give up on the girl. It's almost noon, and the Cheshire wins this round."

"I'm not going to give up on her!" I shout.

"Why? You don't even know her. She means nothing to you," he says.

I say nothing, because I don't know why. I just have to save her. I can’t stand knowing that I could save someone then bail on them.

"Did a Cheshire eat your tongue?" the Pillar says.

"Okay, okay," I try to calm myself down. The tourists are taking pictures of me. They are filming me with their phones. That old woman keeps grinning at me. "Let's see. The watch is fixed on six o'clock. Now it's around twelve-thirty. The Cheshire said I have until noon, so six o'clock can't be a number. It can't be time."

"Interesting," the Pillar says.

"It's a location." I raise my hands in the air. "Like snipers and policemen in movies, when they say shoot this one in the six o'clock direction."

"Frabjous," the Pillar says. "And where is six o'clock as a location?"

"Right behind me," I turn around, back to Lewis Carroll’s portrait.

"Like the Cheshire used to say: if you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there,” the Pillar says.

Chapter 23

It doesn’t matter how long I inspect Lewis Carroll’s portrait, I don't find anything strange. It's devastating. Even the tourists start to get bored, all except the old woman. She is most attentive.

"Tell me Alice, does Lewis Carroll grin in the portrait?"

"No." I double check, in case my eyes are giving up on me. I had one shot of my medication early this morning. I might need another one, since I'm beginning to tire.

"Damn. That would have been classic," the Pillar says.

"Maybe it's something behind the portrait," I suggest.

"I know what six o'clock might be!" the old woman interrupts. Her grin is ridiculous. She is enjoying this more than a seven year old would enjoy an Alice in Wonderland book with pictures.

"Okay?" She might be my last resort.

"Six o'clock is when the Mad Hatter froze time by singing in his awful voice. The Red Queen said that," she says.

"The lady is actually right," the Pillar speaks in my ear.

"So what?" I wonder. "What's the Mad Hatter got to do with this?”

"It might not be a direct reference to the Hatter. What is the Hatter famous for?”

“Tea, his hat, and mad parties,” I reply.

“That’s the answer,” he says, but I don’t get it.

"I think it could be the teacups in the entrance of the Great Hall,” the old woman suggests. “Wherever the Hatter goes, there are teacups.” I don't even know if she knows what's going on. She thinks this is some kind of interactive assembly by Oxford University to entertain the tourists, I guess.

"I always thought Lewis Carroll’s books were suitable for nine to ninety year olds," the Pillar says. "She isn't over ninety by any chance, is she?"

"Shut up." I dart across the hall, pushing the tourists away. I catch the eyes of a security guard, but he doesn’t approach me. I wonder if he knows about me.

I arrive back at the entrance with the huge table with plates and tens of empty teacups on it. I check each and every teacup.

"She's Alice Bond," the old woman claps her hands.

"All cups are empty. All but one," I tell the Pillar.

"Does it say ‘drink me’?" the Pillar says in his whimsical voice.

I don't even waste time. My fingers reach into the tea in the cup, and they touch something. Here it is, just what I was looking for.

"It's another watch… digital," I say.

"Working?" the Pillar asks.

"No."

"Rub it like you’d rub a bottle with a genie in it," I hear him take a drag. "I'm sure it will start counting downwards."

"Why?" I rub it with my sleeve anyway.

"The last watch in the cheese was ticking, and it probably stopped when you rubbed it. This one will work once you rub it. It's just the kind of nonsense the Cheshire would insure."

“But the time was fixed on six o’clock then. He couldn’t have predicted when I’d rub it,” I say.

“A watch can still when its hour and minute hands are fixed, Alice. It’s not that hard. Now rub this one.”

I do. The Pillar is right. It's a stopwatch. The clock’s digital counter starts counting backwards. Six minutes in, I tell the Pillar.

“So we have only six minutes left. A new deadline,” the Pillar comments. “Tick. Rewind. The madness begins again.”

Chapter 24

"There must be some other clue in the teacup, because this is definitely the last mile in the puzzle," the Pillar suggests.

The old woman pulls a folded piece of paper from the cup with that silly grin on her face.

"A paper," I unfold it, and read it to the Pillar. "It says: '
a four letter doublet.
'"

"That’s what I call exciting," the Pillar says. "What else does it say?"

"There is a drawing of a door, then an arrow that points from the door to a drawing of a lock," I say. "What the snicker snack is a doublet?" I have no idea why I am talking in the Pillar's slang all of a sudden.

"A doublet, also called a ‘word ladder,’ is a game invented by Lewis Carroll in the Christmas of 1877," the Pillar lectures. "It's a simple game. I tell you a four-letter word, and ask you to turn it into another word by changing one alphabet at a time."

"What?" my head is frying. I can't even focus on the game.

"Let's say I ask you to turn the word ‘Word’ into the word ‘Gold.’ First, you'd change ‘Word’ into ‘Wood’ by changing one letter, then you’d change ‘Wood’ into ‘Good.’ Then finally, you change one last letter in ‘Good’ and turn it into ‘Gold.’ Easy Peasy, if you ask me."

"So what's this got to do with saving the girl?" I glance back at the watch. Five minutes.

"The Cheshire drew a door and a lock for you," the Pillar explains. "He wants you to turn the word ‘Door’ into the word ‘Lock.’ And since I know how crazy he is, I imagine this is somehow your clue to unlock wherever the girl is kept. Behind some door, probably. Better get going, Alice.”

"Okay," I panic again. The old woman's eyes widen. I am not sure if she heard the Pillar, but she encourages me and tells me I can do it. "Let's remove one word from ‘Door.’ Let's change the ‘R’ into an ‘M.’ ‘Doom.’" I snap my fingers.

"No. Alice. No," the Pillar says. "You can't
see
‘Doom.’ It has to be something you can see or work with where you are. Each word that will come up will help you find the real lock."

"'Door' into 'Boor?’" I mumble.

"Sounds good," the Pillar says.

"What's a 'Boor?’" I wonder.

"A person of rude and clumsy manners. Go on. You're on the right track."

"Now we change 'Boor' into ... hmmm ... 'Book?’" I raise a finger in the air.

"Excellent. I imagine we could find a useful book nearby. Go on."

"'Book' into 'Look?'" I'm improvising.

"And finally, change a single letter in 'Look' and you get 'Lock.’" The Pillar claps. "Well done."

"And then what?" Four minutes left.

"Look around for a boor, Alice," the Pillar says. "Come on. You don't have much time. A boor. Listen hard for a student, a professor or a tourist who is complaining, obnoxious, and ill-mannered. There are plenty of those in the world."