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 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 through the gate.
And it’s only seconds before I see the horror and understand what’s really happening in the future.