Mad About the Hatter (19 page)

“Or pies,” Leonard offered. “They both like pies and cakes. Of course, Dee prefers lemon chiffon, while Dum likes chocolate silk. They both enjoy apple, although Dum likes raisins in his apple pie, while Dee hates them, and neither is very fond of nutmeg, but love cinnamon.”

“Oh! I nearly forgot, and it’s very important,” Hatter said. “One is never right if the other is always wrong. Have you got that?”

Henry looked rather dazed. His eyes held a funny sort of foggy, blank look that worried Hatter a bit. “Never mind, Henry. Perhaps Leonard and I should do this. You wait here.”

Hatter and Leonard each stood in front of one of the twin paths leading to the houses. Locking gazes with Leonard, Hatter counted off. “One… two… three!” They stepped off at three, each taking a nearly identical stride down their pathway.

“Step,” Leonard said, and they both took one.

“Step,” Hatter repeated, and they both took another one, and so forth, until they reached the front doors of the respective houses at the exact same time. “Finger on the doorbell. Push on three!” Hatter called. “One… two… three!”

Hatter heard loud chimes echo in the house before him, and a ghost of the same chiming coming at the same time from the house next door. The stomping of feet reached his ears—feet with some weight behind them from the sound of it—and knew Leonard was hearing the same.

The door opened, and he found himself facing Tweedledee.

Or Dum.

He didn’t know which. He always had trouble telling them apart. It wasn’t really his fault—they were identical twins, after all. They were both nearly as wide as they were tall, bald as a Dodo egg, and wore matching red and yellow striped shirts under frayed and faded overalls. They went barefoot, summer and winter, and the soles of their feet were black with grime and shiny with calluses. Blue eyes squinted out from behind frameless spectacles, while hands the size of a holiday ham were planted on their wide hips.

“Yeth?” They both had a lisp, so that didn’t help in identification, either.

“Tweedle! It’s me, Hatter!” From across the way, he heard Leonard say the same thing to the other twin. “Good to see you, old boy! It’s been an age, hasn’t it?”

“Hatter?” Tweedledee (or Dum) looked thoughtful for a moment, before his face broke out in a wide grin. The source of the Tweedle lisp was exposed in the wide gap caused by two missing front teeth. His twin, of course, had the same gap. Legend had it that one of them lost their teeth in a Bandersnatch attack, and the other was so grief-stricken at the marring of an otherwise perfect mirror image that he knocked out his own two teeth that very afternoon. “Come in, come in! Ith good to thee you.”

“I appreciate the offer, Tweedle, but Leonard is visiting your brother, and we have an extra.” He gestured toward Henry with his chin, and knew Leonard was going through the same routine with Tweedle’s twin. “We know how you feel about third wheels, so perhaps we could visit outside, the lot of us.”

Tweedledum (or Dee) wrung his ham-sized hands. “Oh, dear. Three ith a bad number. An awful, awful number. Sharp and pointy. Ith odd, you thee, and that makes it dangerous.”

“Yes, I know, but do you remember Alice?”

“Queen Alith?”

“The one and only. Well, Henry there is Alice’s brother. It’s true! I swear on my life, and you know how precious I hold myself, Tweedle. He even looks like her. That makes him a duo, like you and your brother. So actually, there are six of us out there.”

Tweedledee (or Dum) peered out the door at Henry. “He does look like Alith. All right. Make him come in. We’ll have tea.”

“No, no. If I did that, there would only be three of us in here!” He pointed to Tweedledum (or Dee), then to himself, then to Henry. “One, two, three. See? We need to meet outside for it to be a round number.”

Tweedledee (or Dum) looked confused, slowly pointing to himself, then to Hatter, then to Henry, then back at himself again. “I… thix, you thay?”

“Yeth. I mean, yes. Six. You, me, Leonard, your brother, Henry, and Alice.”

“But Alith isn’t here.”

“Tweedle, I’ve explained this before. Henry is Alice’s brother. Like you and your brother. That makes it six.”

“You… he…. Alith….” Tweedledum (or Dee) so looked for a moment like his tremendous melon head might explode that Hatter considered whether or not he should rout out an umbrella from his pocket. But then Tweedledee (or Dum) seemed to come to a decision. “Okay. That theems logical.”

Hatter hid the relieved sigh that tried to hiss its way past his lips, and smiled. “Very good. Shall we go?”

All four of them—Hatter, the two Tweedles, and Leonard—descended the stoop to the walkway, making their way toward Henry in a stately, precise procession. They stood in a loose circle, looking at one another for quite a few minutes before Hatter spoke again. “Henry, these are the Tweedles. Tweedles, this is Henry, Alice’s brother.”

“Printh Henry. Pleathed to meet you.” The Tweedles spoke in unison, beginning and ending at the same time. It was uncanny, or would have been, Hatter supposed, had it been anywhere but Wonderland.

“Um, Prince?” Henry glanced at Hatter.

Hatter gave a tiny nod. Best to let the Tweedles think what they wanted. After all, they’d be less likely to turn away royalty than they would peasants. “Yes, Prince Henry. It’s all right. The Tweedles are loyal to Queen Alice.” He turned to the Tweedles. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeth! Alith saved uth from the crow, you know!” Tweedledum (or Dee) exclaimed.

Tweedledee (or Dum) nodded vigorously in agreement. “We were going to have a battle because he”—he pointed to his twin—“broke my rattle.”

“I did not! You keep thaying that, but I didn’t!”

“Yeth, you did!”

“No, I didn’t!” Tweedledum (or Dee) reached out and gave his brother a push.

“Take it back!” Tweedledee (or Dum) returned the favor, pushing hard enough to rock his brother on his feet.

“Boys!” Leonard’s voice thundered, drowning out both Tweedles. “Enough!”

Both Tweedles looked contrite. “Thorry, Your Majesty.”

“Anyway,” Hatter said, once quiet descended again, “Prince Henry needs a place to spend the night.”

“Oh, he can have my bed,” Tweedledum (or Dee) said, grinning his broad, gap-toothed smile.

“No, he can have my bed,” Tweedledee (or Dum) insisted. His smile matched his brother’s.

“Boys, boys. Prince Henry can’t stay in either of your houses. Remember? That would make three in each house. We went over this before. No, Prince Henry would like to spend the night in your barn.” Hatter pointed to a large, red barn set off to the side of the houses.

“The barn?” Henry asked, looking at Hatter askance.

“Yes, the barn, Your Highness. Remember?” Hatter winked at Henry.

“Oh! Oh, yes, the barn. May we?” Henry asked the Tweedles.

“Of courth, Printh Henry.” The Tweedles answered at once, even though both still looked confused. “Our barn is your barn.”

“Good. See you in the morning, then.” Hatter took Henry’s elbow, and followed by Leonard, led the way to the barn. They passed a lonely cow that blinked huge doe eyes at them, and lowed softly. “Shh, Bessie. There’s room in there for you too, I’m sure.”

The double barn doors were huge, nearly giant-sized, but there was a smaller, man-sized door in the middle of the right one. Hatter opened it and ushered Henry and Leonard inside.

Hatter chuckled at Henry’s look of surprise when he fished a lantern out of his pocket and lit it. Half walls separated the barn into a dozen roomy stalls, each holding a large, fluffy bed covered over with a thick, patchwork quilt. A couple of cows occupied two of the stalls, the residents’ horned heads resting on thick pillows. One mooed softly in its sleep and rolled over. Another stall held a dozen small beds, each holding a single fat hen, all fast asleep.

“Who puts beds in their barn for the livestock?” Henry asked.

“Everybody. Don’t they do it the same way in your world? What do they do… let the animals sleep on the ground?” Leonard and Hatter laughed at the absurdity of it. “I told you we’d be going to bed with the chickens,” Leonard replied. “What’d you think I meant? Come on, let’s hit the hay.”

The three of them each chose a stall and bedded down, undressing in the near dark and sliding under thick quilts. The beds were soft, the covers were warm, and they fell asleep almost instantly.

Suddenly Hatter was wide-awake and staring open-eyed into the blackness.
The damn lantern must’ve gone out,
he thought.
I thought I heard something….
He sat quietly, listening, but heard nothing but Leonard’s snoring and the cows’ soft lowing. Every so often a chicken would cluck, but other than that, he heard nothing.

He was about to roll over and try to go back to sleep, when the noise that had startled him awake came again. It was a clanking sound, metal against metal. It wasn’t the volume of the sound that woke him—the noise wasn’t overly loud. It was the fact that it didn’t belong in the barn. It was a strange noise, alien. Metal against metal. Like a sword sliding free from a sheath.

Hatter jumped out of bed and pulled his clothes on as he hopped awkwardly to Henry’s stall. He shook Henry’s shoulder until Henry’s eyes blinked open. “Henry, wake up!”

He ran to Leonard’s stall and woke the Red King. “Your Majesty, they’re here. The Red Guards. They’ve found us.”

Leonard woke and was dressed before Henry even got out of bed. Hatter went back into Henry’s stall, and shook him again, then ripped the quilt off the bed. He grabbed Henry’s clothes and pushed them into his arms. “Hurry!”

No sooner had they finished dressing than the barn’s huge double doors banged open, revealing a dozen large figures backlit by the moonlight. The darkness ate the color red, but Hatter knew it would be there. Their coats, their pants, their armor, the color of their hair and skin would all be bright ruby red. It was the Queen’s Red Guard, and she wouldn’t have sent any but her best after them.

He wondered if she knew her husband was back in Wonderland. He could only hope she didn’t. Their plans depended on it. Surprise was really their only weapon against her. He’d know in a few minutes, as soon as the guards saw Leonard.

He wondered how she could know they were back, or where they were.
She must have had someone watching the White Castle,
he thought.
A guard left behind to report if we came back. If she knew we came through the mirror, she would know the only place in the area to seek shelter would be at the Tweedles.
He swore softly, under his breath.
I wouldn’t have credited her with being that smart. I’d do well to remember that. She’s mad, not stupid.

He and Henry stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the guards. Hatter carried his lantern, and after fishing a matchbox from his pocket, slid a match out and flicked it against the sole of his shoe. The tiny flame flared, and he used it to light the lantern. It cast a soft yellow glow over them.

“Oi! You, Hatter! And you… er, Boy Alice. You are hereby under arrest by order of Her Majesty, the Red Queen,” the largest guard, a red giant, boomed. He took a step forward and produced a scroll. “You are charged with Duplicitous Despicableness and Insults of the First Degree. The punishment is death.”

“Oh, dear,” Hatter said. “Let me guess how… by beheading?”

The Red Guard sniffed. “As if there were any other sort of punishment.”

Hatter shrugged. “Well, she could imprison us. She’s done that before.” He knew it only too well. His back ached, remembering the thin mattress covering the cot he’d slept on in his cell for so many years.

“No, your heads must roll. That’s the sentence.” The guard looked thoughtful, and shifted his sword from hand to hand. “In fact, truth be told, beheading is the punishment now for every crime.”

Hatter winced. It was worse than he’d thought. “You’re a good man, very loyal to the Crown.”

“Of course.” The guard glanced at the men behind him and lowered his voice. “Doin’ otherwise would mean my head would roll.”

“I suppose that would be very inconvenient.” Hatter nodded in sympathy.

“Indeed,” the guard agreed. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, we should be moving along now. She’s waiting, and you don’t want to keep Her Majesty waiting any longer than you need to. Or at least I don’t.” He unconsciously touched his throat and swallowed hard, then pointed the sword toward Hatter and took a step forward.

“I command you to stand down,” Leonard’s voice bellowed from behind Hatter and Henry, echoing in the barn. “I said, ‘Stand down!’”

The guard squinted, looking past Hatter and Henry into the shadows. “Who’s there? Who said that? Interfering with a Royal Arrest is a crime punishable by beheading. Come out here where I can see you!”

His head high and his shoulders back, his spine as straight as an arrow, Leonard walked into the light dressed in all his royal finery. His golden crown glinted in the lantern light.

“W-who are you?” The Red Guard held his sword in front of him, and took a step backward. “A-a ghost?”

“I assure you I am not a ghost. I am the Red King, and I demand your allegiance!” Leonard stepped up to the guard, looking down his long nose.

He’s very good at regal intimidation
, Hatter thought, smiling to himself. He elbowed Henry and nodded toward Leonard. “See that? There’s a talent only experience can give you. Look at him. He’s got them cowed with only a single look.”

Henry nodded without taking his eyes off Leonard and the guard.

“T-the Red King? But you’re dead! The Red Queen said so.” The guard was obviously flummoxed. Should he believe or shouldn’t he? His dilemma was obvious in his puzzled expression.

“He don’t look dead. He’s breathin’, ain’t he?” Another guard, only slightly smaller than the first, put in. He sniffed, obviously proud of his deductive skills and fully confident no one could refute his conclusion.

“That don’t mean nothing. Could be he’s just fakin’ breathing.” The first guard peered at Leonard. “Are you? Faking?”

“I assure you, I am not.” Leonard folded his arms across his chest. “I am alive and well, and breathing quite nicely.”