THE EAGLE AND BIRD BAR, OXFORD
T he chauffeur watched the Pillar knock his cane on the floor for the hundredth time.
His employer had been sitting alone in this old bar for some time, staring at a golden key in his hand. Rarely had the chauffeur seen the Pillar so gloomy, not the flamboyant and out-of-this-world man he usually was.
The Pillar had just bought this old bar. For over half a million pounds.
The chauffeur wondered if he’d spent that money to tap a cane and stare at a key. Why this bar? There were dozens of old historical bars in Oxford, many of them truly profitable.
The chauffeur wondered if the Pillar had heard of the new Wonderland Monster calling himself Lewis Carroll yet.
Would he be just sitting here if he had?
The Pillar didn’t look like he wanted to talk to anyone.
“So should I employ someone to run this place?” the chauffeur hissed.
“No need,” the Pillar answered, eyes still on the key. “Alice will run the place herself soon. I’m anxious to see if she’d serve good tea like the Hatter back in Wonderland.”
“Alice?”
“Well, let’s say she’s about to finally pick up her team and oppose Black Chess.” The Pillar tucked the key next to his watch inside his breast pocket. He tapped his pocket gently with his white-gloved hand. “The first real step into the War.”
“So, it’s really happening?”
“Wars are inevitable, my lousy driver.” The Pillar stood up and elegantly flipped his cane. “Victories aren’t.”
“Wars like these?” The chauffeur turned on the TV. The six o’clock news was covering the incident with the creepy Lewis Carroll look-a-like claiming he’d spread an incurable plague to the world.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” the Pillar said. “I hope you didn’t smoke any of those toy hookahs yourself.”
“Not at all, Professor. I’m not into puffing bubbles,” the chauffeur prided himself. “But if I may ask: is the plague real?”
“Looks too real, in fact.”
The chauffeur wasn’t sure what that meant.
“Get my plane ready,” the Pillar said, slowly easing into a better mood.
“That plane is in the Vatican. You just let Alice use it this morning.”
“Not that plane.” The Pillar knocked his cane against the floor.
The chauffeur swallowed hard. “You mean the War Plane?”
The Pillar nodded, momentarily closing his eyes. “In fact, I want all my planes ready and handy. The choppers, too. Don’t forget the guns.”
They hadn’t used the planes since the Pillar went on a rampage, killing twelve people some time ago. “Where are we going, Professor?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to darkness itself,” the Pillar said, diverting his focus on the broadcasting news. “Welcome home, Lewis Carroll. It’s been some time.”