Present: Amusement Park, London
T he Pillar managed to make the Ferris wheel work.
Riding it all alone was all the fun he needed. Soon Fabiola and the Cheshire will come. This time Fabiola might kill him.
And it was okay.
Just one last ride on the Ferris Wheel. Circling the sky up high and looking down upon the world he will soon have to leave.
One last examination of his skin confirmed his fears. How much longer did he have? Hours? A day or two? Was the world going to last a day or two?
It didn’t matter.
He let the air slap him in the face. It felt so good on the skin that he hated. On a soul that he loved.
A smile curved itself on his face. His job was done. It’s been a long ride, and the Ferris Wheel was the perfect ending.
The first time he had been bullied as a kid was in a similar amusement park-- back in Wonderland? He wasn’t sure, really. For a man who’s lived so many times and having seen similar things over and over again, he couldn’t be sure. What mattered was that every life he lived started with him being bullied as an orphan child. Somehow this part never changed--the same like Alice’s yellow bus never changed.
He remembered the kids that hung him from a car in a ferris wheel and let him spin.
As a kid, he hadn’t seen the darker side of the world. His foster parents always called it madness and insanity. Words he didn’t understand. Until he grew older and needed to defend himself. That’s when he realized the greatest trick of life. Pretend you’re mad and you get away with anything.
Not that he continued this way from the beginning. Worse things made him who he had become. In the beginning, back in Wonderland, he wanted to entertain children. And he did it for a long time. They loved him.
Until darkness dawned upon him.
From this high, he could see Fabiola and Chesh pointing up at the Ferris Wheel spinning at the end of the world.
He wasn’t sure if they saw him, but the spinning of the wheel will soon come to an end, like everything in life. And he will have to face them.
Fabiola in particular. She will want to kill him. And she can. Not because she is stronger than him. But because he will let her.
Not that he wanted to.
He wished he could tell her the secret. He wished he could make her see him for whom he really was, but he couldn’t. His reasons were strong enough he didn’t mind taking them to the grave.
Oh, the grave…
He laughed so much at the mention of the grave. He still remembered when he dug one and buried someone six feet under. How that night changed everyone’s life—for the better or worse was a matter of perspective.
“I’m not leaving, Pillar!” Fabiola shouted from down there. She was loud enough for someone in so much pain. He guessed killing him was a desire that demolished her physical pains. He was familiar with that certain emotion.
“One last spin, White Queen,” he shouted from high above. “One last wish before dying.”
“I’m not waiting for the wheel to stop. I will stop it manually from down here,” she shouted. “You’ve never cut him any slack!”
“How do you know that?” the Pillar said. “How do you know that I didn’t give him one last wish.”
Fabiola stopped before the lever, listening to the Pillar talk. “I doubt that. You wanted him dead. I know you. You always take what you want. And you couldn’t have me. He loved me.”
The Cheshire stood, hands folded next to the romantic Fabiola. He was bored out of his mind. He had never been a fan of love stories. But he knew they were talking about the Hatter. Fabiola loved him and he tried to help her escape the Pillar back in Wonderland. Before the night he disappeared and was later known to have been killed by the Pillar.
“I did give him one last wish, Fabiola,” the Pillar said, spinning in the sky.
“Prove it!” Fabiola said out of frustration. It wasn’t going to change anything. She only longed for some resolution. Something to ease her pain. The Hatter’s death was a chip on her shoulder. He was nothing but a funny man loving children and attending tea parties. His love for Fabiola was a mistake — though she loved him back — and only paved the way to his death.
“I asked him if he had one last wish before I buried him alive,” the Pillar said in his deadpan voice. “And you know what he wished?”
Fabiola didn’t answer, her hand gripping the lever.
“He asked me to tell you that he loved you and will always love you,” the Pillar said. “That was his last wish.”
Tears flowed from Fabiola’s eyes, “To hell with you, Pillar.”
And she pulled down the lever with her left hand. The hose in her right.