"D ing dong… something is wrong," the Pillar says again, staring at the activists.
"You think he is one of them?" The thought of me staring at the Cheshire without knowing him is unsettling. He could easily be anyone in this masked crowd. I'd rather face a devil I know than one I don't.
"Brilliant, isn't it?" The Pillar looks angered by the Cheshire's trick. "He has an unstoppable need to attend the festival and perform the ritual. Now, with all those masks, there's no way to know who he is. He's mocking us again."
"Shouldn't that mean that Constance is here?"
"In many ways, it does," the Pillar says as the activists make way for someone approaching from the back. It looks like their leader, a man dressed in a Pied Piper costume. He holds a flute and a dossier in his hands and has a few grinning cat masks with him.
"This is a peaceful protest." He raises his hands and talks to the people. I notice he is in his fifties, and his face is heavily lined as if he was a big drinker or smoker in his younger days. He has a good tan, though, and is not wearing a mask. "All we ask is that you let us pass to the clothes tower to mourn our cats."
The people behind us murmur. They are wondering if there is enough space for the activists to walk through. They wouldn't want to spoil the parade, as they still have the need to move forward and continue the celebration.
"I have a couple of masks for those of you who have had a change of heart and want to mourn the many cats that have been killed in this town." The Piper grins, imitating the masks. "Have you ever had a cat, young lady?" he says to me, bowing his head, as he is a bit too tall.
"I think so." I don't remember having one.
"Was her name Dinah?" The Piper's grin continues as the Pillar tenses. I shrug, not knowing what's really going on. Has the man exposed me, or is he just referring to Alice's cat in the book? "Forgive my surreal sense of humor, but you look fabulous in this modern-day Alice outfit," the Piper says.
"Does it really show?" I am beginning to worry, like the Pillar. My outfit shouldn't really make someone think that way instantly.
"Please be one of us." He stretches out his long-fingered hand. "You must care for cats the way we do. This celebration is all wrong. We need to educate people that harming cats is unacceptable. It's a crime that deserves the gas chamber, like killing human beings."
"We have appointments," the Pillar breaks in. "We love cats. Meow. But I am afraid she can't come."
The Piper turns to face the Pillar, and I sense darkness in the air. Is it possible that this tall, tanned man is the Cheshire? Why is he dressed like a Piper, and not disguised among the others behind a mask?
The Piper and the Pillar stare at each other for a long time. I am starting to think this isn't the Cheshire, or the Pillar would have recognized him. I am puzzled all over again. I wish the Pillar wouldn't keep so many secrets from me.
"Professor Carter Pillar, I assume?" the Piper utters finally.
My heart drops to the floor.
"Do you know me?" the Pillar asks, and I am confused again. What's going on?
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The Piper stretches out his hand and shakes the Pillar's warmly as the grin on his face disappears. "I was told I might find you in the parade. In fact, I have two masks and tickets for you to join the pro-cat activists. I have heard a lot about your work. I hear you support cats and love them dearly." I know the Pillar hates cats. "I heard about your great work in the field of Kittycology ."
"Kittycology?" I know this is a joke, but I don't know what's happening. The Pillar knows it too, but he plays along. He likes games.
"And who told you about me if I may ask?" The Pillar drags from his pipe, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
"Mr. Warrington Kattenstoet, of course. He is the director of the pro-cat activists. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it today." The Piper hands us the masks and tickets. "But he insisted it would be an honor if you and your daughter would accompany us."
I take my mask reluctantly as the Pillar secretly winks at me. He puts his mask on, accepting the invitation. The name Warrington Kattenstoet is a big joke. Warrington is where Lewis Carroll was born, and Kattenstoet is the event we're attending. The Cheshire is here, and he wants us to play one of his games. He is inviting us to his ritual.
"And what should we call you?" the Pillar asks, as we cross over to join the pro-cats.
"Call me Piper for now." He smiles.
"I am curious why you're dressed like a Pied Piper at an event about cats," I say.
"It's an in-house joke, young lady." He shakes his head. "In the pro-cat community, we think the Piper must have been a cat. Who better to call when your town is rat-infested? The Piper. He does the same job cats do in terminating the rat race."
"Oh." The Pillar and I gaze at each other. We look silly in these masks.
"I know all the stuff about the flute and such, but after the Piper tempted rats out of Hamlin, what do you think he did with them?"
"I heard he drowned them in the river," I respond.
"Not true, young lady," he says. "He ate them, of course. Just like ancient people of this town sent the cats to kill the rats in the clothes tower. Now, follow me."
As we walk amid the tourists to the clothes tower, the pro-cats start singing a song:
Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I've been up to London to visit the Queen.
Pussycat, pussycat, what did you there?
I frightened a little mouse under her chair!
I have my mouth open wide under the mask when I hear that. The Pillar does nothing but ends it with a high note, shouting, "Meow!" He says it as if he's saying "amen."