VIP WARD, THE RADCLIFFE LUNATIC ASYLUM, OXFORD
T he next morning, they send me back to the VIP Ward. I'm surprised no nurses or wardens are present. Instead, the hallway is filled with Mushroomers from another ward.
"Welcome to the pinnacle of insanity." The Pillar waves his cane in the air, like a circus ringmaster. He hasn't started smoking yet. I guess it's too early, or maybe he prefers to be sober while I am on this mission. The mad patients in their tattered gowns surround me with giggling eyes. I feel like I am in an insane zombie movie, the princess of all zombies. "Aren't you going to greet your fellow lunatics—or should I call them 'colleagues'?" the Pillar says, throwing parental glances at them. They seem to adore him.
How did he even get them out of their cells?
"What are they doing here?" I try to keep a stride or two away from the nearest fellow . I was thinking today was going to be my first day to mingle with normal humans. I guess I was wrong about that.
"The nature of your mission is highly secretive," the Pillar explains, patting a mad girl who hugs him tightly as if he is the Easter Bunny. "I mean, maddeningly secretive. You're going to deal with the Cheshire Cat himself, a most wanted criminal Wonderlander." He excuses himself from his fangirl. "This means no sane person can be part of this." He air-quotes the word "sane."
"And if anyone asks me what I am doing?" I say.
"Anyone, like who?" he asks.
"Police, for instance?" I tilt my head.
"Didn't you listen to the Cheshire's footage, explaining that this is a Wonderland War?"
"Yeah, right." I purse my lips.
"Alice, Alice, Alice," he sighs. "Here is how I look at it. In order to prove you are sane, you will have to do insane things. Think it over before you accept my offer. This is truly like a rabbit hole: once you fall in, there is no coming back."
"You mean none of the nurses or wardens are even going to know?" I thought I could get Waltraud and Ogier to treat me better, at least.
A mad Mushroomer laughs with puffy eyes at me and wiggles his forefinger into a "no." He has a big, crooked finger he could wipe windshields with.
"But Dr. Truckle knows," I remark, avoiding the Mushroomer.
"Oh, Tommy," the Pillar says. "I consider him one of us." He points to the patients. "He's just good at hiding it, fooling the universe that he is a sane man running an asylum. Isn't it so, Mushroomers?" The patients nod eagerly.
I rest my case.
The Pillar signals to a few of his Mushroomers to bring something. They arrive with a wardrobe on wheels, one that wasn't here before. They pull it in front of me and point at it with mouths drooling. I'm now Alice, princess of fools.
"Harrods?" I read the name on the wardrobe. "You bought me clothes from Harrods?"
"I'm not sure we bought them." The Pillar exchanges glances with them. "But they're here, aren't they? Insane people have to get dressed too." The patients' nod at me.
I let out a long sigh, then breathe all the sanity I can think of back in. Before arriving, I was offered a nice shower in the underground ward. Waltraud and Ogier thought I was going to be examined by a highly regarded specialist outside of the asylum, where I'd be exclusively supervised by Dr. Truckle. I understand now that Waltraud is going to stay oblivious to my secret mission. But it's all right—who can resist a wardrobe from Harrods?
I rummage through it and end up choosing dirty blue jeans and a white t-shirt. A girl in tattered clothes flashes her thumbs at me, liking my choice. I can't help it and toss her a dress out of pity. She looks at it for a moment, not knowing what to do with it, and ends up chewing on it.
The Pillar tells me that it's lightly snowing outside, so I throw on a light blue pullover with a hood and long white sleeves. An older Mushroomer woman throws me white boots and giggles at me. Gotta love them loons. They're all I got, after all.
"Look at you." The Pillar looks happy. "A modern-day Alice. Lewis would have been proud."
Although I don't have the guts to stare in a mirror to see how I look, I feel really fresh. I'm not sure if it's the clothes, the freedom, or my loony friends. But here I come, Wonderlanders.
The Pillar's fangirl passes me a pink watch. It's beautiful.
"I was going to get you a golden pocket watch, but then I faced some obstacles," the Pillar says.
"Couldn't steal from the guys at Rolex?" I chuckle, putting on my watch.
"Problems with Wonderland rabbits, actually. They are the watchmakers, and control the industry all over the world," the Pillar says. "Caterpillars and rabbits don't get along, you know." The Pillar turns to look at a couple of Mushroomers working on a typewriter on the writing desk in his cell. They are typing furiously and debating something. One of them types; the other pulls the bar to start a new line. They stare at it as if it's an atomic bomb. I peek in to see what this is all about. They keep gluing and cutting papers.
"Are we done, or what?" the Pillar puffs impatiently. I am wondering what this is all about.
One of them walks out of the cell with an old camera. It's a nineteenth-century-style camera with bellows for focusing. He places it on a tripod in front of him and asks me to pose. I am still puzzled.
"Say 'cheese,' Alice," the Pillar demands. "The Mushroomers have no use for technology and smartphone cameras. They must've been here since long ago." He rolls his eyes.
I smile flatly at the Mushroomer taking the picture. As fast as a rabbit, he hops back to the writing desk and continues writing and cutting with his friend. He returns with a card in his hand and a drooling grin. It's a pretty smile, actually. Insane, but truly and outrageously happy. I am starting to envy the Mushroomers.
I'm not going to ask how the Pillar knows about my mirror phobia. I assume he knows more than I know about myself.
Seeing my face on the card is a better solution than looking in the mirror. I've never thought about it. I like the way I look. I have auburn hair, naturally wavy—or is it just an aftereffect of too many shock therapies? I have light blue eyes and a slightly edged face. You can tell I don't eat much, I guess. My skin is fair, and I have an overall ordinary and familiar face. If I hadn't been in an asylum, I could have been someone's neighbor or girlfriend, or a college girl in a small town.
But that's not what this card is about. When I read it, I discover it's an Oxford University card. It has my name on it: Alice Pleasant Wonder. I am a freshman.
"It's Pleasance, not Pleasant," I tell the Pillar.
"Pleasant is more pleasant ," he says. "Besides, you're not an Oxford University student either. Don't be picky when it comes to forging."
"You're right about that. I'm just silly," I note. "I haven't even finished high school."
"Oh, you have finished that." He laughs. "How many did she kill again?" he asks the Mushroomers. They start jumping and clapping, and his fangirl grabs my hand and raises it, like a winner at a boxing match. "She finished all her schoolmates, didn't she?" The Pillar is overly content with having mad people around him. It's a totally different side of him that I don't think he shows to the world outside. "Now, it's time to catch a killer and save some lives." He rubs his hands together and walks back to his couch in the cell, and starts smoking his inverted mushroom-shaped pipe.