Future: Bus Station, London
N ever have I heard of a chapter in a book labeled: future. But this is my world, as insane as it gets—let alone that I’m talking to you, dear reader—or listener-right now.
It’s been a few years, and though I’m confused whether I’m a character in a book or not, I’ve come to accept the illogically absurd life we live in. Who knows, maybe you’re a character in someone else’s book? Watch out.
Right now, I am sitting at the same bus station all over again. It looks newer. Touched by recent technologies of the new world, though I’m not sure what year it is yet.
I’ve just arrived, and I’m not sure what will happen next. I have been looking for Jack for sometime. I thought I might find him on the bus, as usual. Maybe this part of the story never changes.
The air is crisp with the scent of early autumn, and the sun is struggling to stay alive. But I’m glad that I’m not in an asylum. I’m a regular girl waiting for a bus full of students.
An old lady greets me with a crumpled but genuine smile. A couple of student girls high-five me saying, “Yo Alice, what’s cooking?”
I don’t reply but they say, “You coming to the party tonight?”
“Sure,” I play along, not used to fitting in. “How would I miss it?”
“You’re so funny,” says the girl on my left.
When I turn, I suppress a great shriek and collect myself. Lorena and Edith, my sisters, quite uglier than I remember them are talking to me.
“You have to come to your party after all,” Lorena says.
I’m baffled. My party? I’m cool enough I host my own party now?
“I wanted to ask you if my sister, Edith, can join,”’ Lorena hisses, almost begging me.
I stare expressionlessly at Edith, remembering she and Lorena tried to kill me so many times. It occurs to me that maybe it’s one of their games again.
But when other students greet me and a hot guy winks at me and gestures for me to call him, I realize that this is happening.
I’m about to tell Edith, yes she can join me, but I’m interrupted with someone else’s voice.
“No,” the man says. “Lorena has to study.”
I don’t need to turn around to recognize the Pillar’s voice, though he sounds unusually sane and collected.
“Of course, professor Pillar.” Lorena says and pulls her sister away.
When I turn, the Pillar smiles at me. Handsome old man, I have to say. Still wearing a hat, a blazer, a black one this time with a vest and tie underneath. An expensive Rolex is wrapped around his hand that grips his cane.
No hookah?
No nerdy professor?
I see how the young girls are infatuated with him.
“Professor?” I play along, trying not to burst out laughing. Does he remember? Why have we even crossed back to this life? I remember Lewis suggested we all go back to Wonderland. Apparently, part of my memory isn’t helping again.
“Alice,” he nods seriously. “It’s an enchanting day.”
Did he say enchanting? I must be dreaming. I think I loved him more when we were insane.
My lips are sealed and my eyes are glued to his.
He says nothing, staring back. I can’t tell if he is puzzled. What if this is the kind of Pillar I will have to deal with in this life? Who is going to answer my questions? Who is going to drive me crazy and keep me on my toes?
But then I follow professor Pillar’s eyes, as he stares at his sleeve in wonder. My eyes don’t adjust easily, as I’m not sure what I’m looking at. I squint and near his arm as he discreetly indicates with blinking his eyes.
“Is that ketchup, professor Pillar?” I say with half a smirk.
“What else could it be? Blood?” he whimsically whispers in my ear. “Had to kill a three-legged monster, with two noses, and one eye in the back alley.”
“With a hookah, I suppose?” I whisper back, giggling.
“A chess piece,” he sighs. “I don’t smoke. Bad for you health.”
“A Black Chess piece, I assume.”
“You assume correct, Alice,” he says, sitting on the bench and leaning on his cane. He looks so elegant, I’m so pissed off. “That’s why you’re my best student, Alice. Come sit with me.”
I sit next to him, both of us staring at the street. I notice we are a few feet away from the Alice Shop in Oxford.
“So we’re professor and student in this version of the War?” I say as polite as possible, not looking at him.
“I like being a professor,” he still sounds posh and aristocratic as a respected professor would be. “It’s like being Indian Jones, except I’m cooler.”
“And you killed a Black Chess in the back alley?”
“Nah,” he leans back. “I ate pizza. It’s ketchup, only I don’t want to be seen gorging on pizza as I’m being called Sir at the moment.”
“Sir Carter Pillar,” I muse. “No more Pilla da Killa?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“No more Waltraud Wagner, the asylum warden?”
“She cleans toilets in the university,” he says. “Still fancies roller blades though.”
“Tom Truckle?”
“The dean.”
“That’s not good. No Mush Room?”
“It’s a toilet now,” he says. “where student secretly sniff ‘mush’, the newest version of drugs.”
“In Oxford University?”
“Sherlock did Cocaine, Lewis did pills. Things never change.”
“So why are we here again? Didn’t I do a good job the last time--of course you as well?”
“You did, dear Alice, but evil never dies.”
“Lame, don’t you think?”
“Lame is the name of the game. Always has been.”
“But how come I’m aware of what’s going this time?”
“You didn’t eat a mushroom to forget this time.”
“Fair enough. No Jabberwocky?”
“Not so far? Things seem pretty chill in this life. A Harry Potter reboot is in the making.”
“And the Queen of England?”
“Alive and kicking. Touch wood.”
“The Queen of Hearts?”
“Haven’t found her, neither did I find Margaret. They’ll show up.”
“The Cheshire?”
“Can be anyone walking around us.”
“You’re right about that,” I look around. It’s a scary thought that the Cheshire could be anyone. “Lewis?”
“Is pretty much dead in this version.”
“The March?”
“My assistant,” the Pillar smiles. “Works in the library now."
“Still paranoid?”
“If you mean the light bulb in his head, yeah, he still can’t sleep at night because he can’t turn off the lights, you know.”
“Fabiola?”
The Pillar doesn’t answer me.
I turn and look at him.
“Still looking for her.” he admits.
I nod. "And Jack?”
“On the bus, as usual.”
“I guessed so. Why doesn’t this part change?”
“I’m not God. I’m just a dude who likes tea.”
Funny how I’m never used to him actually being the Hatter. “So can I ask a question, professor?”
“The answer is no. I didn’t kill anyone yet.”
“That wasn’t it. I still wonder what this was all about?”
“Meaning?”
“I know I saved the world from the Jabberwocky last time. I know I had to go on a journey and grow into my adulthood and powers. But in the end, a lot of things still don’t makes sense.”
“Life isn’t supposed to make sense.”
“Really? That’s all you got for an answer?”
“Ask anyone if they know what this life is all about,” he slightly waves his cane at people as if they were lost sheep. “We just like to pretend that we do, though. That’s why our fiction has to make sense . You have to tell the reader why the hero was able to use this kind of magic at that certain point in time. You have to logically explain to them why the heroine fell in love with the hero while in real life it’s never so clear.”
“Again,” I remind myself. “Fiction is our way to save our souls from the fact. So no purpose, huh?”
“Even if there was a grand purpose to life, I’d say make your own box-sized purpose. One that fits and is achievable. Trust me, it’s called happiness.” he sighs and pulls out a cigar, tucks it in his mouth, but doesn’t smoke.
“You said you didn’t smoke.”
“But I started.” He winks.
I shake my head and laugh.
“Do you know how many people wish to have lived that adventure of yours down the rabbit hole?” He says.
A wider smile lights up my face now. He is right. It’s been painful, mad, and bloody, but I’m grateful.
The Pillar puffs one last smoke and then winks at me and leaves.
But I stop him, “Should I call you Hatter this time?”
He doesn’t turn around and says, “You call me professor, kiddo,” he waves his cane in the air. In a larger than life attitude, he tips his hat at his students and tells me, “Wait for the bus, girl. Fall in love with that Jack boy. Don’t complicate it. You don’t need to have logical reasons to love him. Have kids and tell them about nonsense. They will love it.”
The yellow bus arrives. My eyes are still glued to the Pillar walking away. Part of me wants to run after him and thank him for all he has done. Father, friend, mentor and pain-in-the-ass. Part of me feels like Alice in the books when the journey end and she has to say goodbye to the great characters she met.
But I understand. I have to let him go. I understand I have to grow up. I understand that at some point I will have to complete the circle and mentor someone else — maybe I will meet Constance somewhere in this new life.
I blow him a silent kiss at the back and attempt to get on the bus.
“I felt that!” He says, still walking away. “Just don’t kill the boy in the bus.”
Then he walks away…
The bus arrives and I see Jack behind the window, standing all alone. As handsome as always, yet he looks more collected, and kinda shy.
I get on the bus snake my way to deliberately stand next to him. He shrugs when I look at him and looks away.
Oh, that’s not the Jack from before. He definitely doesn’t remember.
I find an empty seat, still staring at him. Sooner or later, I’ll have to leave this bus. I don’t feel comfortable here. The question is should I leave with or without Jack.
The student next to me get out on the first stop.
I rest my hand on the seat so everyone knows it’s reserved. Another sideway glance at Jack shows me that he was looking at me. Still, he shied away.
Calling him by his name would scare him. I clear my voice then say, “Hey,” I pat him on this back and he turns to look at me. “Do you want to sit?”
“Me?” He says, looking sideways as if I have better options.
I forgot that I’m a cool girl in this life. He probably thinks it’s a mistake. I lightly tap the seat one more time, twisting my lips in awkwardness.
He finally nods, “Thanks.”
Jack sits next to me, holding his backpack to his chest.
I have to break the silence, so I stretch out a hand, “I’m Alice.”
He takes my hand and says, “Jack.”
“Nice to meet you, Jack.”
“You too,” he blinks while staring at me. “Ah—”
“Yeah?” I show him I’m interested. “You want to say something?”
“I was looking for a companion to attend the Alice Day,” he kinda mumbles, but I got it—though I cringed at the world ‘companion.’ “Would you like to—”
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like to.”
He must have thought I’m the easiest girl on the planet. I take him by the hand and we leave the bus. I can’t risk killing him again this time.