One thousand feet ahead,” Frankie repeats. “How do we figure out how far that is? I’m about four feet.”

“Oh! I bet he means actual feet,” Robin says, pointing downward. “Everything he says is always the other meaning of the word.”

So we walk forward, one foot in front of the other, counting to ourselves. “Nine hundred and ninety-eight. Nine hundred and ninety-nine. One thousand!” I call out. “What’s next?”

“Three hundred feet that aren’t right,” Penny says. “Do we walk back three hundred feet? That sounds like a waste of time.”

“Do you know what’s not right?” Robin exclaims. “Left!”

“Right!” Frankie says. “I mean, smart!”

“Robin, you are really good at riddles,” I say, impressed. I didn’t know that, and I thought I knew everything about her.

She blushes happily. I guess Robin has layers, too.

We turn to the left. Luckily, there’s a path. We take three hundred more steps and then, out of nowhere, we see another house. It must be the rabbit’s house!

“Robin solved the riddle!” Frankie says. “Way to go.”

“Wahoo!” we all cheer.

As we get closer, we see that the house is more a hut than a house. It’s oval and made of stone, packed dirt, twigs, and leaves. There’s a small chimney and several windows without any glass panes. If we weren’t tiny, we would not be able to fit inside the house at all.

“Mr. Rabbit? Are you home?” Frankie asks. She knocks once, and then pushes open the door just enough for all of us to look inside.

I don’t see anyone. Or hear anyone. But the house looks cozy. There’s a yellow sofa with throw pillows and a colorful rug. Two rocking chairs. And a toy area in one corner with building blocks. We all squeeze through the door and walk inside.

I look at the walls, which are covered in framed photographs of the White Rabbit and his family. I look more closely. The rabbit is wearing a coat and eyeglasses.

“I know we came here on purpose,” I say. “But I’m not sure we should trust the rabbit. He is the one who told us to eat the tarts.”

“His house feels friendly, though,” Robin points out.

It’s true. I stop in front of the picture of two white rabbits, one in a tuxedo and the other in a long white dress and veil, about to cut a big carrot. I guess a carrot is like a wedding cake for rabbits. Other pictures show their seven children, all very cute with floppy ears. A sign above the kitchen doorway says: A CARROT A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY.

Another wall has photographs of famous rabbits. I see Peter Rabbit. Bugs Bunny. Rabbit from Winnie-the-Pooh. And the Easter bunny, holding a basket full of colorful eggs. On a bookshelf are many books, all with rabbit-related titles. How to Talk to Anybunny. Be the Best Hopper. Raising Li’l Rabbits Right.

“Ooh, check out what’s on that table!” Penny says.

The rest of us walk over to see. There’s a small bottle on the table. With a label that says: DRINK ME.

And next to the bottle are four little glasses! Meant for us? Probably, right?

Could this finally be the swallow to take us home? Or is it some crazy potion?

“This better not make us smaller,” I say.

Frankie shakes her head. “Since the last potion we drank made us small, maybe this one will make us normal size again.”

Penny opens the bottle. She sniffs it. “Yuck. Carrot smoothie. I hate carrots.”

I take the bottle and smell it. She’s right. The potion is green, not orange, but it does smell like carrots. I have a brief flashback to the time I fell into Hansel and Gretel and was force-fed veggie smoothies. Blah.

I pour a little of the potion into each glass.

“Cheers,” I say, and we all clink glasses. Then we each take a sip. The potion definitely tastes like carrots. Penny must not be pleased.

Suddenly, my shoulders are growing as wide as the room. My neck is going back up, up, up, but this time, the rest of me is getting huge, too! My feet look like my dad’s. Wait — they look like five times the size of my dad’s.

“AHHH!” we all cry.

We’re GIANTS.

I’m so big that I have to hunch over along the ceiling. My arm is so long it goes right out the window, which, thankfully, has no glass.

Frankie, Robin, and Penny are giants, too. One of Frankie’s arms snakes right up the chimney. Robin’s leg is through the side door. Penny’s hand goes out another window.

We’re wedged inside the house. I can barely move.

THIS IS NOT GOOD.

“What is that infernal racket!” an annoyed voice calls from down the hall.

The White Rabbit comes storming out of the bedroom. He’s wearing his little round eyeglasses. His wife, in a pink-striped bathrobe, and seven little rabbits in pajamas are behind him.

My elbow keeps growing. I’m about to knock over all the rabbits.

“AHH!” the rabbits shout and rush out the front door in the nick of time.

“Sorry!” I call to them.

“Hey! This is our house!” the White Rabbit shouts from the front lawn. “Get out!”

If we could, we would.

“Take that!” the White Rabbit says, and throws a rock at my arm.

“Ow!” I cry. “Stop that!”

The White Rabbit is scowling at me. “No! You stop growing in my house this instant. Get out!”

Mama Rabbit throws a rock at Robin’s foot. Then all the rabbit kids pick up pebbles and rocks and start flinging them at us.

“Is she really teaching her kids to throw rocks?” I ask. “Great parenting! You’re raising bullies! Is this how you raise little rabbits right?”

“Ow!” Penny says. “I can’t even move my leg to rub where the rock hit my shin!”

“Stop it!” Frankie yells as a pebble hits her in the arm.

Wait. What was that? Something soft just landed right on my foot that’s sticking out the window. Something that smells good. I sniff the air. Is that cake?

Another glob of something lands on my arm. It’s definitely cake.

Why are the White Rabbit and his family throwing rocks and cake at us? This makes no sense! Even for Wonderland!

I’m able to turn my face just enough to see the White Rabbit standing right outside, ready to throw another little cake at me. Where is he getting the cakes from, anyway?

“Scram!” the rabbit says, throwing more cake. It lands right on my hand.

I am so bent over just under the ceiling that I’m afraid my head will go through the roof!

“Listen, Mr. Rabbit,” I say. “Why did you tell us to eat the queen’s tarts? Were you trying to get us into trouble?” I ask.

“I did no such thing!” the rabbit says.

“Liar, liar, bunny pants on fire!” Penny shouts. “We all heard you!”

The rabbit frowns. “I’ve never seen you or these other giants before in my life!”

“You did so see us!” Penny says, all hunched over. Her elbow goes through another window. “We were smaller then. In the garden?”

“Huh?” the rabbit says. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’ve never seen you four before — at any size. Now get out of my house!”

He IS the White Rabbit from the queen’s garden. I saw him with my own eyes! Same face. Same pink nose. Same floppy ears and little round eyeglasses. He’s right in front of me now.

But I can tell by his expression that he doesn’t know who we are. His brow is furrowed and he’s frowning. He reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out a tiny carrot and begins munching on it distractedly.

“Wait a sec,” Penny says. “I thought you hated carrots! The rabbit we met earlier said he hated carrots! Remember?!”

I gasp. She’s right. And … what was it the Cheshire Cat said? The surprise was a disguise you saw with your eyes.

Could the Cheshire Cat have meant the White Rabbit? Maybe the rabbit who told us to eat the tarts was in disguise — as THIS white rabbit. Maybe that rabbit was someone else entirely?

But who? And why? Who would want to get us in trouble with the queen?

“Oh, goodness! Oh, dear!” the rabbit says. He looks at his pocket watch. “I’m very late. I must go! Bye!”

The rabbit rushes off. But his wife and seven bunny children are still glaring at us. The kids keep throwing cake at us. A piece lands on my chin. I stick out my tongue — might as well taste it and see if it’s the right swallow — but my tongue can’t reach.

Penny’s face is now so big it’s blocking the doorway. I can barely see out the window.

“Take that, freaky giant girls!” a bunny kid says and flings a piece of cake at Penny. It goes right into her mouth.

“Argh!” Penny barely manages to say.

“Penny!” I cry. “Are you all right?” Doesn’t that bunny kid know throwing food into people’s mouths is a choking hazard?

She’s swallowing. Which is a super-loud sound when a giant does it.

“Not bad,” she says, licking her lips. “Chocolate peanut-butter!”

“It’s a good thing you’re not allergic to peanuts,” I say. Haven’t they heard of nut-free in Wonderland?

“Oh!” she calls out as her hand suddenly comes out of the window. Her foot comes down from the chimney. “I’m shrinking!”

Could Penny be shrinking because she swallowed the cake?

A bunny kid pulls his arm back and pitches a piece of cake right at my face. It lands on my cheek. Ew, sticky! But it really smells delicious. I manage to swipe it off with my tongue and take a nibble. “Yum, that is good.”

And it works! My arms start shrinking. My foot comes out of the window. I’m suddenly standing straight up.

Two bunny girls throw pieces of cake at Frankie and Robin. They quickly take licks.

We’re all card-sized again. I arch my back and rub it. Being a giant is achy.

“I’m calling the guard-cards!” Mama Rabbit says. “They’ll arrest the intruders!”

One of the rabbit kids is glaring at us. “Yeah! You’re toast!”

“You have toast?” Penny asks. “Can we swallow some?”

“No! Run!” I yell. We scurry out the front door. The bunny kids are chasing us.

Right outside the door is a mouse. A huge mouse. Well, probably a normal-sized mouse that looks huge because we’re tiny.

“Are you the ones who ate the tarts?” the mouse asks.

“Um …” Penny hesitates.

“Don’t answer!” I hiss. “The mouse might be working for the cards!”

“The cards saw us eat the tarts with their own eyes,” Robin points out.

Forget the fact that cards shouldn’t even have eyes in the first place. “I don’t know what they actually saw,” I say. I am trying to think like a lawyer. “Just don’t admit anything. They’ll use it against us!”

“If you did, I’ll help you,” the mouse says. “Climb up on my back and I’ll get you out of here!”

“Should we believe him?” Robin asks me.

“Grab them!” one of the bunnies says, coming up behind us.

“Believe him!” I say, and jump on the mouse. What other choice do we have? Robin, Frankie, and Penny jump on behind me, and the mouse takes off bounding down the path.

“This is weird,” Frankie says.

“This is wild!” Robin adds.

“This is FUN,” Penny says, with a giggle.

“Really?” I ask, staring back at her. “Being curved around the ceiling of a house was fun? Being pelted with rocks was fun? Riding a mouse is fun?”

Penny laughs. “It kind of is,” she says, holding on tight. “Don’t you think?”

“I kind of do,” I admit as we zoom through Wonderland. Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.