I don’t comment. I’m not sure what to think of this.
“This doesn’t explain anything about Patient 14,” the March says, sounding overly interested. I think it’s because he can sympathize with every patient who’s been to an asylum before.
“Patient 14 is a legendary patient, a myth like I said, one I’ve never met,” Tom says. “According to the legend he knew of a great secret every Wonderlander sought after. Somehow, when we Wonderlanders crossed over to this world, he ended up in an asylum in Austria where Waltraud and Ogier worked.”
“I’m assuming this was not a coincidence,” I say.
“No it wasn’t. The Tweedles, or as some call them, the Dum brothers — I like to call them Dumb Brothers, but that’s another story — had been placed by Black Chess to interrogate this mysterious patient and find out the secret he kept. All of this happened in the 19th century when mental patients were still treated in violent ways.”
“And of course the Dum Brothers took turns in tormenting him.”
“Indeed. But Patient 14 was strong. He never spilled the secret. In fact, he influenced a lot of his mates to help him escape, but he failed,” Tom says. “Then later, he was sent to Britain where I was told by Lewis to catch any Wonderland Monsters I came across and feed them the Lullaby pills.”
“You don’t look like you’re capable of catching a Wonderland Monster,” the March says.
“That’s correct. So I lured them to work for me by claiming Patient 14 was hiding somewhere in my asylum.”
“Did it work?”
“It did, even better — and madder — than I’d anticipated.”
“How so?”
“They actually believed he was hiding among the other Mushroomers in here. This is how the Mush Room began.”
“This was the Dum Brothers idea?”
“It was, and I endorsed it. Anything to stop those annoying insane people from babbling all day long. It was driving me crazy.”
“I’d say the pills drove you crazy,” I tell him. “They also made you forget some details.”
“You could say so. But what matters is that the Dum Brothers fried every patient’s head, testing if they were Patient 14.”
“But you just said they’d forgotten who they were.”
“I said it didn't happen so fast. By the time they were tormenting you in the Mush Room, it had become a habit they enjoyed and never remembered why.”
“And the writing on the wall?”
“No one knows whose it is,” Tom says. “The fact that it’s signed by Patient 14 doesn’t prove he ever existed. Are you done interrogating me about that myth yet?”
“She isn’t,” the March says, looking a bit dizzy. “Because this Patient 14 knows the true story about how Alice and Him met. Knowing such a thing proves he isn’t a myth.”
I watch the March wince a little. I ask, “Are you all right?”
“I am. I think it’s the light bulb in my head playing games on me.”
I help him rest on the edge of the Pillar’s couch, feeling guilty he’s been dragged into this. The March is like the purest thing I’ve seen in this insane world. I want to hug him and keep him safe all the time.
I turn back to Tom Truckle. “So let’s say Patient 14 is real. Does that mean he’s the one who wrote on my cell’s wall?”
“Could be,” Tom says nonchalantly. “But that would mean he’s been to your cell or that you knew him at some point.”
“Or he’s known my family.”
“That, too, is a possibility.”
I share a moment of silence with all of them in the room. My eyes shift to the news showing the police cars waiting outside. Nine hours left, and nothing in this day makes the least bit of sense. I’m not sure if I should be digging deeper into Patient 14’s legend, or focus on waking up the Pillar to escape this place.
But, like usual, it’s the Pillar who makes these decisions for all of us. I watch him sit up on his couch with his beady eyes. He barely glances at us, then pulls out his small hookah nearby, lights it up, leans back on the couch and starts smoking.
He says, “Is it my eyes or is a bit blurry in here?”