W e pass through the crowd as they let us into the clothes tower. They agree we can use it, only for an hour, then leave so other tourists can use it. We step up. As we do, the Piper gives us mid-sized boxes with metallic handles on top. They are mildly heavy, and something is rocking them from inside.
"There are cats in these boxes," the Pillar says as we climb the stairs. I hear a meow out of my box.
"Why cats?" I hiss at him. "It doesn't make sense. They are pro-cat. They won't be throwing them off the tower like other tourists."
"Other tourists don't throw real cats from the tower," the Pillar corrects me. "They throw stuffed cats as part of the event. Maybe the tower is like Noah's Ark. The Cheshire is going to drown the world with some flood, so he decided to save as many cats as he can." I know the Pillar is being sarcastic. He has no clue what we're up to, and I don't like the anticipation.
"He didn't invite us here for nothing," I remind him. "He wants to show us his power. My guess is the ritual is taking place atop the tower. This means Constance is here."
We reach the biggest room, and each activist walks toward the row of cloistered windows looking over the parade and the whole town. They turn and face the inside of the circle, where the Piper stands.
This is definitely the ritual.
"Since the time we have here is short," the Piper says, "I will try to make this quick." One of the boxes rattles from inside. The rattling is unusual. The cats must be big. I hear mine clawing at the inner walls of the box. "I know all of you have lost ancestors to the incident that happened here many centuries ago when they killed them mercilessly, throwing them out of the windows."
Now, this makes more sense. Each and every one here is originally a cat, now in a human soul. They are here to avenge their ancestors. Being here is scary. I don't dare to even look at the Pillar. We've been ambushed.
"They also burned our ancestors in France a century later," a cat-masked woman says.
I read about cat burning in France on the internet. Apparently people had a lot of grudges toward cats in that time.
"Not just France," another man says behind the mask. It's really hard to know who is talking and where the voices are coming from. "They killed cats in Brazil, too. My entire family was murdered."
"My family was murdered in ancient Egypt. We were supposed to be gods!" a third one says.
"I know we were gods in this world before," the Piper says. "The human holocaust of cats in the fifteenth century didn't succeed anyways. We've always evolved and learned to survive. Some of us are tigers or lions. And most of you survived by stealing the breath of infant humans and taking their souls." He fists a hand and raises it in the air. I suddenly notice it's not a hand. It's a claw in a human body.
I remember one of the Mushroomers saying that he wasn't mad. He said a cat had stolen the souls of his kids when they were young, and no one believed him. What happens is that the kid dies, and the cat grows up in a new human body of its choice. The Mushroomer said that cats live among us everywhere. I thought he was crazy. I don't know of anyone who'd believe what's happening right now if I told them.
"We should have never let humans domesticate us," the Piper says. "But history is full of mistakes. And on rare days like today, we get our revenge."
Everyone around us hails the Cheshire.
"The Cheshire has been through a lot, but he has always fought for us. He was fooled by Lewis Carroll when he locked him in Wonderland many years ago," the Piper says. "But like the Red King and Queen said in the books, how could they behead a cat with no head?" The pro-cat activists, or should I say cats, hail again. "The revenge the Cheshire has promised is closing in. Lewis stole the Cheshire's power after he couldn't lock him in Wonderland like the others."
"When is he getting his power back?" an activist asks.
"Patience, my friend," the Piper says. "The awful Lewis Carroll hid it in one of the sculptures of grinning cats all around the world. He then asked his friends to sculpt as many grinning cat statues and carvings as possible to elude the Cheshire Cat, so he could never get it back."
"What's in the mask?" an activist asks.
"What else, my friend," the Piper says. "His grin. The famous Cheshire Grin holds his power."
I know the Pillar, and I can't wait to know the rest. But this is getting so surreal that I'd rather believe I am insane. This is all about the Cheshire getting his grin.
"The power in the mask was bonded with one of the girls Carroll took photographs of," the Piper continues. "The power was in the mask, but the key to unlocking it was in one of those girls' souls. All the Cheshire had to do was to kidnap the girl, suck her breath like cats do, and then take her soul. He made them look like murders to elude any Wonderland enemies out there. Six souls had been killed with no success, but the seventh must be it. And she is here with us today."
My eyes dart around, looking for Constance, as the activists ask where and who the girl is.
"Her name is Constance," the Piper says. "And, within a few moments, the Cheshire will perform the ritual when the clock ticks 'brillig.'"
"What is brillig?" one asks, and I too found myself wanting to know.
"Brillig is four o'clock in Carrollian language," the Piper explains, and then recites a small line from Carroll's most whimsical poem, "Jabberwocky": "It was brillig, and slithy troves. "
I miss the Pillar explaining these things to me. He hasn't talked since we came here. All he cares about is spotting the Cheshire. And all I can do is crane my neck to look at the clock tower. It's only ten minutes to brillig.