THE FUTURE: MOUNT CEMETERY, GUILDFORD
T he Pillar was digging with all his might as fast as he could. Sweating and panting. He’d never felt the need to save someone like he needed to save Alice now.
And there it was, finally, Carroll’s corpse, lying on its back, strangely mummified, looking as if he were still alive. The Pillar wasn’t surprised. Carroll was full of surprises. He wouldn’t discard the possibility that the famous mathematician had found an embalming method like the ancient Egyptians.
The Pillar knelt down to reach for Carroll’s pockets. The dead man’s shoulders snapped, just a little, probably an odd reflex of muscles being exposed to oxygen or light.
“Relax,” the Pillar told him. “I’m just here for the Pills. She needs them, or she will die.”
But Carroll’s dead body snapped again, as if not wanting him to reach for them.
“Look,” the Pillar said. “I know you don’t want her to take the pills, not in the future, but I can help her.”
The corpse still stiffened, its arm bent awkwardly. The Pillar needed to break it to get to the pills.
“Aren’t you the one who kept showing up in her dreams? Didn’t you meet her in the Tom Tower? Didn’t you meet her back in Wonderland through the Einstein Blackboard? And after the circus, she said she saw you with the Inklings.” The Pillar talked to Carroll’s corpse as if it were alive. “Didn’t you show up to her in the Inkling, thanking her for saving you from Carolus and telling her she is the Real Alice?”
The corpse didn’t move—and, of course, it didn’t talk back.
The Pillar wasn’t sure what was going on. He didn’t want to break Carroll’s arm to get the pill. But, looking at his watch, he knew he was losing time.
“She will die, Carroll,” Pillar said in Carroll’s ear. “This future is a mistake. What’s done is done. I can go back and save her. She doesn’t have to take the same route again. She just messed up.”
The corpse’s hand stiffened even more.
“It’s not her fault, Carroll,” the Pillar pleaded. “Let me help her. She saved your life for God’s sake. This is only a possible future. You of all people know this. We can always change the future.” The Pillar was fighting a tear, threatening to break his lifetime record of never crying, not once.
He gently put his hands on Carroll’s chest. “For the sake of the good memories, Carroll,” the Pillar said. “Don’t let what happened after the circus do this to you. She needs to live, find the keys, and save the world. For the sake of your memories with her in the garden in Christ Church.”
Carroll’s stiffened hands loosened a bit at the Pillar’s last words.
“Remember those days, her playing in the garden, behind the door to Wonderland? Remember her fluttering hair, the sparkling eyes of a child who loved rabbits and turtles? The girl who hated books without pictures and lived in the minds of every child in the world until this day?”
Carroll’s hands shifted, giving way for the Pillar to reach for the pills. They were still intact inside a plastic bag in his chest pocket. Three pills. Probably preserved in the same manner Carroll’s corpse was.
The Pillar took the pills and tucked them in his back pocket. He grabbed for the shovel and said, “Now it’s time to bury you again, old man.” He sighed. “Not that burying your corpse lessens your presence in the world. Somehow you’re immortal.”
A few minutes later, the job was done. The Pillar rolled his sleeves back down and put on his suit. He walked out toward the motorcycle, counting on the trick of time to get back to Alice as soon as he could.
On his way, he stumbled across a set of tombstones outside the church. He was sure they hadn’t been here in the past and wondered who was buried next to Carroll. Who died in the future and deserved this burial place?
The Pillar stepped up and read the name on the tombstone. It didn’t make sense, but it hurt reading that name. Someone was going to die in the future, sooner than anyone would have expected.
And boy, what a loss that would be.