Death of the Mad Hatter (18 page)

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
T
HREE

(
Ryley: Present Time)

Sneve
Street was like every other street in town. Yet, the Maude house was different than most, even if it did have a single apple tree in the front yard and a vegetable garden in the back. The once manicured yard was torn up with an array of rabbit holes. There was just something different about the house. The Victorian house was painted with bright colors, but the sun had faded them over the years, giving it an eerie vibe. I could have sworn that it was painted a dull brown before.

I walked up to the front door. Instead of a doorbell, there was a lion head knocker.
The door knob was molded to look like a person’s face when I swore that it looked like every other round doorknob before. Just as I raised my hand to knock on the door, it opened. Alice Mae’s bald aunt barricaded herself within the doorframe.

“
The young Mr. Edgar,” Zola Maude said. “It’s poor form to show up without an invitation.”

“
Is Alice Mae home? I found something that belongs to her,” I said, digging Mr. Ruth out of my backpack. Alice Mae knew I had it, but I needed an excuse to get past her overprotective aunt.

“
She lost the white rabbit?” Zola Maude said, reaching for it.

I held it above my head—out of arm
’s reach for the old woman. “Alice Mae papered the school with missing posters. I’ve come to give it back to her for a reward that was mentioned.”

“
That stupid girl would pay a pretty penny to get her precious little
One-Eyed
H
are
back. There is a heavy price on his head in Wonderland—in this realm it’s just another stuffed animal.”

Vida
Maude walked down the hall and opened the door enough to give me the once over. Sugar coated her hands, and she smelled of spice. She rolled her eyes upon noticing Mr. Ruth. “My niece is upstairs in her bedroom. Boys are not allowed there.”

“
I’m not a
boy.
” I said, tossing the rabbit in my hands just to make sure they didn’t forget about the leverage. Since they were rather interested in the rabbit, I knew it was my ticket in the door.

“
Oh, I wouldn’t have said that, young Mr. Edgar,” Vida Maude said. “If you are not a child, then you can be beheaded. The Rightdoing Laws protect the behaving children, and govern the adults. Break one Wrongdoing Law and your head is as good as hers.”

They must have been talking about the Laws of Wonderland. Beheading isn
’t a form of punishment—well, not anymore. Lethal injection or prison sentences were the accepted penalties here. Pointing out law differences wouldn’t get me anywhere so I said nothing.

“
Keep the door open. Alice Mae’s room is the third on the left,” Zola Maude said and then nudged her sister. “He sure does look like Robby.”

“
Attractiveness doesn’t run in the family,” Vida Maude said, turning toward the kitchen. Purple smoke was coming from it, followed by the distinct scent of burnt chocolate.

Vida Maude screamed,
“You left the pot boiling without supervision!”

“
Yes, yes. I made a mistake,” Zola Maude said, slamming the kitchen door shut. I could still hear her scream at her sister. “Don’t tell the queen. We’ll just make a new batch of candies. Everything will be fine.”

“
Hearts may be our friend, but she hates burnt chocolate!” Vida Maude yelled back.

Note:
My dad and Hearts hated each other (for some reason, maybe something to do with my uncle Edward’s death). The Maude sisters are friends with the queen, thus they are not on my side.

What side was Alice Mae on? She
wanted the queen dead. Yet, she seemed to do her bidding. Was she a double-agent? Or had I just watched too many espionage movies?

Disregarding the
aunts, I shoved Mr. Ruth back into my backpack and took the stairs two at a time. The upstairs was wallpapered with blue flowers. The carpet was green, until reaching the first blue door on the left. After that, it was hardwood and white walls, which stopped at the start of the second door on the right. Then the wall color changed to dark blue, so dark that it appeared almost black. The floor was made of black stone, but I couldn’t figure out what type. The third door on the left was covered in tin foil—no, not tin foil. Silver. Crushed, silver.

I knocked on the door. No one answered so I pushed it open.

Alice Mae sat square in the middle of
a white room, surrounded by children’s games. Puzzle pieces. Jacks. Dice. Clay. Half a dozen cards were cast around her. Some cards were fortune telling. Others were playing cards. Some were baseball cards.

She didn
’t bother to look up to acknowledge my presence, like a guy walking into her room was a common occurrence. It bothered me more than I liked.

“
Zola Maude doesn’t like me,” I stated.

“
If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Vida Maude is very impressed with you either.”

Her bed was white, but stained with
red paint and smelled of pesticide. “Another punishment from Hearts?”

“That was Zola Maude’s doing,” she said. “She wasn’t exactly pleased with my behavior when she found out about the roses.”

A white dresser with crystal handles was placed underneath the lone, small window in the room. It looked like any old dresser… that had been sawed in half with a chainsaw. On the dresser was a photo of Alice Mae when she was a young girl, standing next to a man with wild hair and a top hat. It was the same hat that my dad had worn for his wedding.

“
Who is this man?” I asked, pointing to the picture.

“
M.H.”

Never in my life had I wanted to strangle a person I wanted to kiss so desperately.
“Just initials? He doesn’t have a name?”

“
He has had many pseudo names. Most creatures refer to him simply as the Mad Hatter. He’s never told me his God-given name, so I cannot tell you what that might be. You act like I am intentionally being mysterious and secretive, when in fact; you just don’t like the answers.”

“
Why is he wearing my dad’s hat?”

“
Because he and your father were once great friends before I came along and ruined everything,” she said, frustrated. Her lipstick and eye shadow were completely removed. She looked
natural—
beautiful without her makeup mask. She would always have the biggest, bluest, most spectacular eyes I’d ever taken in.

“
Haven’t you ever seen a girl without pretties on?” she asked, fidgeting in her cream dress. I hadn’t seen many girls still wear full-length long sleeved dresses, but Alice Mae wasn’t up to the twenty-first century fashion either.

“
Not you.”

“
You think I’m ugly.” She held up her hand to stop me from answering. “Let me guess. You just think I’m beautifully-handicapped and need assistance from makeup to be considered pretty?”

“
Ugly isn’t a word I’d use to describe you—ever.”

“
So then why are you staring at me?”

“
Isn’t it obvious?” I said and set my backpack next to her.

“
No.”

“
Digging for compliments?” I said, sitting down beside her. My knee was approximately one inch from hers. It was the perfect distance for her to either scoot closer or lean away. She didn’t lean away. “I didn’t peg you to be that kind of girl.”

“
I’m not,” she said, picking up the cards and slipping them down her sleeve. I watched them disappear, but I had to admit, it was an impressive trick. Her clothing didn’t bunch up as she stuffed more cards in her sleeve.

One card in particular caught my attention.
Two of Hearts. It had been torn but taped back together. She followed my line of sight, looking at her hand. Suddenly, she turned pale. Acting frazzled, she said, “Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to be so small that you could hide from all life’s problems in a house made up of cards?”

“
I’ve never really given it much thought,” I said, not sure if it was a rhetorical question or not. I suspected that it was to take my attention off the card, which made me more curious.

I
grabbed for the card, but she wasn’t willing to surrender it. So there we were, sitting on her floor, surrounded by toys, and fighting over a card. I’d lose my argument with Vida Maude about not being a child if she saw me now.

“
Hiding something?”

“
No.”

“
Then why put up such a fight?”

She let go, but didn
’t look particularly pleased about it. The playing card looked like it was circa 1900’s. Along the edge was a message written in pencil. “
The HATed fool will die twice before the MADness stops.”

Déjà vu
. The words were familiar, but I didn’t remember ever reading them. “Who gave this to you?”

“
M.H.”

“
What’s the riddle supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a riddle. It’s the
Madmen’s Prophecy
.”

Tears filled her eyes. She buried her face in her hands. Her cries were soft. It made my chest ache.
We hadn’t defined our roles; we had only kissed, but it didn’t mean I was her boyfriend. Did I even want that title?

I didn
’t know what I really wanted, but her whimper did me in. I reached around her waist and pulled her close so that our knees touched. When she didn’t pull away, I tightened my hug around her. She buried her face into my shoulder.

“
Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

“
Do you believe in ghosts?”

“
I believe that some people are haunted,” I said. “I don’t believe that a misty substance manifests to scare people. But people can be haunted by their past, their family, their upbringing, their future or any number of things.”

“
Like prophecies?”

“
Sure.”

“
I believe in ghosts,” she said, and reached for the torn card. She traced her finger over the words. Her lip trembled. “I wish I didn’t like you.”

“
I wish I didn’t like you either. My life would be a lot less complicated.”

She smiled as a tear ran down her cheek. It was such a sad, little smile.
I couldn’t bear it. I reached for my backpack. I pulled out the stuffed animal and handed it to her.

“
Hello, old friend,” she said, cradling it in her arms.

I let them bond a few moments before asking,
“So are you going to deny that there is something up with the candy, or am I going to have to pull your teeth for answers?”

“
I prefer my teeth attached,” she said, and then sighed. “The candy helps keep me focused. It has that effect for true Wonderlanders, or anyone who spends a great deal of time there.”

Did that mean I was a true
Wonderlander? I wasn’t born there; I had the birth certificate to prove it. “After we… kissed,” I said and then coughed nervously. “I was anything but focused. The candy residue affected me. It gave me a sugar rush.”

“
Caffeine offsets the effects of the magic inside the candy.”

“
So you see the world all jacked up without candy, until you down a Coke?” I asked.

“
Wonderland is a place of magical elements. Think of it this way. Wonderland clings to a person through and through. It gets on your clothes and skin. It ventures inside your body the more you eat the food.”

“It’s sticky. I got it.”

“Even their odd way of thinking becomes your own. So when a person enters this realm, they still aren’t rid of the magic that is the essence of Wonderland. Thus, in this realm, we tend to see things that aren’t really there. Many Wonderlanders are considered paranoid lunatics. The candy keeps a person centered, offsetting the magic that is Wonderland. It allowed your father to focus too, before… well, that’s a long story. A boring story. And doesn’t have a
Happily Ever After
so I doubt you’d like it.”

“
Does the story about my dad and the candies have anything to do with M.H. or you?”

She didn
’t answer, which was answer enough. She knew my dad because of the special candy. The how’s, why’s, and what’s were important, but I knew if I asked her outright, she’d never answer. So, I had to be a little more devious.

“
Can we have a hypothetical discussion about Wonderland?”

“
Anything is possible when Wonderland is concerned,” she said.