“Okay.” I shake my shoulders. “Jump in.”
They do. I get into the driver’s seat. There are no keys. There is a button that says ‘Push Me.’
I push and the car stirs into existence. My kids cheer behind me, ready for a ride.
“Mrs. Alice!”
I hear someone call me. Not my husband. Another voice. Familiar.
“It’s Mr. Jittery. Our neighbor!” Lily says. “He designed the garden.”
I turn and watch the March Hare stepping toward me. He is in his pajamas, and wears a nightcap on his head. He looks much older now.
The kids greet him and play with him for a moment. This is the first of my friends that I’ve seen in this fabulous future. I have so many questions for him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Alice,” the March Hare says.
“Mrs. Alice?” I squint.
He dismisses my inquiry and hands me an envelope. “I thought I’d give you this back.”
I take the envelope. It has pictures of six keys on a chain on the back. It doesn’t look like there are keys inside.
“Thank you.” I lean forward and whisper, “So we won the war?”
The March’s ears stand erect. His eyes widen. It’s the same look he had when I first met him in the asylum called the Hole.
“What is it? Aren’t you happy?” I say. “We won the Wonderland War.”
The March’s face turns red. His eyes roll sideways and upward.
I pull him closer to me. “Don’t tell me you still have the light bulb in your head?”
“What light bulb?” He manages a weird smile that I can’t interpret.
“Come on, Mum.” Lily taps me on the shoulder. “We’re late for school.”
I realize children come first, and decide I will talk with the March later. “Okay. But you lead the way,” I tell my children, and hit the pedal.
“Bye, Mr. Jittery!” Lily waves.
“I know the way.” Tiger hugs the back of the passenger seat and begins to guide me into the fantabulous world of the future.
Chapter 12
I push the radio button while driving in this rich and luxurious neighborhood I live in. There is a song playing on the radio. It has this line, ‘the future is so bright, I gotta wear shades.’
All houses are family homes, the bright colors of rainbows. Roses are everywhere. Lily greets a few people on the way. Families and their kids in silly-looking cars like mine. Whenever someone greets me, I nod and pretend I know them.
At some point I miss Tiger’s directions and detour into a left. It’s a one-way road. Narrow. It looks abandoned. The more I drive into it, the more roses disappear. There is a gate at the end.
“Okay, I’m lost,” I tell Tiger, but he doesn’t answer me.
I look in the mirror and see him and Lily are scared out of their minds. So scared Tiger can’t tell me how to turn around and get back on track.
“What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t be driving this way,” Tiger says.
“Yeah, I know. I missed the turn,” I say. “Can you tell me how to get back?”
“He is scared,” Lily says, looking as scared. “I think you have to drive over the grass here. That’ll be breaking the law, but it’s the only way back.”
“That’s silly,” I say while following her suggestion. “Why isn’t there a way back?”
“Because everyone knows you don’t drive near this place.” Tiger tenses.
I decide not to ask them while they’re scared. So I begin to entertain them by singing along with a song that I don’t know on the radio. It takes some time, but finally they ease up once we’re closer to their school.
“We’ve arrived!” Lily raises her hands as I slow down at the school’s curb.
It puzzles me how my children are so happy about going to school. I don’t think that’s the norm. But hey, we won the war. This must be the heaven version of the future.
Tiger gives me a kiss on my cheek and jumps out of the car. He meets up with his friends, looking like the leader of the tribe. Lily hugs me dearly. She gets out slowly, looking a bit shy. The first one to greet her is at the school’s door. Her teacher.
Gripping the wheel, I feel worried about my little girl. I am not sure if I should do something about it. This is the future. I am going to be back within an hour. But God, it just doesn’t feel right not to know why Lily is a bit introverted.
I watch her enter the building, reminding myself of the mission I am here for. I open the envelope, which is my only clue to the whereabouts of the keys. Inside, there is nothing but a piece of paper with an address.
An address I recognize immediately. St. Aldates Street. I am supposed to go to Oxford University.
I think it’s my own handwriting scribbled at the bottom. It says:
Find the Mock Turtle. He knows where the keys are.
So the way to the Six Keys is to go to Oxford University and find the Mock Turtle. Not the soup, of course.
I remember a brief appearance for such a character by that name in Lewis Carroll’s books. He is the one who actually tells Alice he called his teacher tortoise because he ‘taught us.’
I turn around, aiming to find my way to Oxford University. I wonder if it looks as fluffy and wonderful as my neighborhood.
As I drive, I keep thinking about the note. It escapes me how and why I’d have written this note in the future. Did I know I was coming? Did I come here before, and left myself a clue?
Time traveling is even more mind-boggling than the secrets of Wonderland.
Lost in the neighborhood, I decide to make it back to the March Hare and have a lengthy conversation with him. That’d be the right start.
I come across that scary street again. And being me, I can’t help it. I am curious.
I detour again, driving along, looking left and right. It’s a dim-looking street, but not really scary. I keep driving until I reach the gate. I wonder how it opens. Maybe this is the way to the university.
I get out of the car and walk to the gate. There is a single red button on the right wall of the gate. It says: Don’t push this button.
It seems that, even after we won the war, the nonsensical never stopped. Why is there a button if I shouldn’t push it?
But I do. I am curious.
The gate opens slowly. And a timer appears on the wall. Sixty seconds. I assume it’s the time the gate stays open.
Jumping back in my rabbit car, I hit the accelerator and gun it throughout the gate.
And it’s only seconds before I see the horror and understand what’s really happening in the future.
Chapter 13
THE PRESENT: OXFORD
The Cheshire had been roaming the street in Jack’s body for some time. And boy was it fun.
First of all, Jack was young, and allowed the Cheshire to mingle with young people, which excited him. Yesterday he’d played a game of football. Gone to a movie with a few youngsters he befriended at the game.
Even better was how girls liked Jack. They always complimented him and flirted with him. They thought he was funny and easygoing, though the Cheshire hardly talked. He didn’t want to expose himself as being a very old creature.
Usually, he only smirked, laughed, and used Jack’s attractive facial expressions to push a conversation.
The best thing about him were his dimples, the girls said.
Thankfully, he knew enough about Jack to sustain believable short conversations when he forced to say something.
At the movies, everyone wanted to see the latest Star Wars movie. But the Cheshire persuaded them to go see Puss in Boots.
That was some experience for him.
Seeing a kick-ass cat, subtly evil, loved and cherished by the audience, made the Cheshire’s day. Maybe humans weren’t that bad after all — but soon he changed his mind and convinced himself that Puss in Boots must be a Wonderlander he hadn’t heard of. One with expanded influence in this world. He should tell the Queen about him later.