"I'm her uncle," the Pillar says. He needs no other introduction to the crowd. "She doesn't go anywhere without me, which means I will approach the stage with her."
"Hmm..." The host sighs. "If she is going to play Alice, who do you suppose to play, then?"
"I'll play the doorknob," the Pillar says.
The crowd goes nuts, laughing.
"I always wanted to be the doorknob." The Pillar smiles like a child again. "You know, the doorknob Alice has to talk to when she is crossing the Pool of Tears."
"And I am her husband." Jack appears. "I mean, her boyfriend. I mean, I am Jack. I could play...hmm...Jack. Jack of Diamonds," he stutters, uncomfortable with the many faces looking at him.
I take my time to hear the crowd's reaction to Jack. They see him, or no? Come on. They saw him as an ice cream boy before. Why not see him now?
A long, long moment passes before the host says, "Why not. You may approach the stage." The man turns his back to us and waves his finger.
My heart drops to the floor. I want to know if he sees Jack.
A few steps in, the man turns back, annoyed by our slow reaction. "Hurry, we have limited stage time. Come on stage, the three of you."
Chapter 3 8
Performing stage, Drury Lane Theatre, London
I hold Jack's hand as we get on stage. The Pillar walks behind us, avoiding my sharp looks. I still don't understand why he wants me to think Jack doesn't exist. All those audience members can't be wrong.
Once on stage, I am dazzled again with the accurate reality up there. It's a huge stage, but everything feels so real. The trees leading to house of the Duchess, where we're supposed to meet her and her insane cook, smell just like normal trees do. When I reach out to touch them, the host offensively slaps my hands and tells me to concentrate on the play. He also orders the Pillar and Jack to wait by the curtains until he figures out their roles.
"My uncle could play the Cheshire Cat," I tell the host, grinning with joy at the Pillar. If he still pretends Jack doesn't exist, this is my chance to get back at him. I know it's childish, but I'd rather call it mad.
"Don't be silly, Alice." The Pillar tries to keep his posture.
"Actually, it would be fun," Jack says to the host. "With the right cat costume, the audience will love it."
"Agreed." The host hands the Pillar the cat costume. The Pillar squirms at even thinking about wearing the skin of his cruelest enemy.
I can't help but smile. A little revenge would make him not lie to me again.
"If you come near me, I will kill you, cook you, and eat you with a whole lot of pepper," the Pillar growls. "Give it to the brilliant Jack," he says, still not pointing at him.
"So, you do see Jack," I say.
"Of course. Of course," he mutters. "Now get going with the play."
Jack wears the cat outfit, thinking maybe acting is the career he should try. The host gives me a blonde wig to wear to play Alice. When I ask him what I should do exactly, he says I could improvise on the scene in the book where Alice enters the Duchess' house and meets her pepper-obsessed cook.
"But if you want to stay true to the book, there is a baby in the scene as well." The Pillar's inquisitive tone is unmistakable. He does believe something bad is going to happen in this scene.
"Well, we did have a baby," the host said. "But human rights groups prohibited kids under seven acting on stage until the Watermelon Murders are over."
"Understandable." The Pillar peeks upward, probably at Margaret Kent's balcony. The curtains block the view from where we stand.
I think about the actress who'll be playing the Duchess' part. Does she have any idea the real Duchess is watching the play?
Is that why Margaret Kent is here?
"Shall we begin?" The host talks to the actors, including the Duchess actress and the tall cook actor, whose long black hair is blocking his eyes. He seems very obedient and calm, though. "Outstanding," the host says as he orders the curtains pulled. "Let the madness begin."
Chapter 39
The pulled curtain permits the bright light pooling in. Here on the stage, all I see is an infinite source of brightness, almost blinding my eyes. It feels like each actor is entering a new world of fantasy all of a sudden. It's almost like another realm.
My eyes shut for a moment. I can't see the audience's faces with this kind of light. I merely see wavy silhouettes sitting down there. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. The stage reminds me of the Mush Room somehow. I think this is what they call stage fright.
But it actually works. The actress portraying the Duchess, wearing a silly oversized hat, plays her part well. Obnoxiously entertaining. The crowd loves her.
I start saying all kinds of nonsense, partially memorized from the book. I act freely without intimidation. The stage has a certain magic to it. It's like singing alone in the shower and letting the trickling water camouflage your horrible voice.
My inner fear spreads from something else. Something I can't explain yet. It's probably the Pillar's fear that worries me. I peek at him, standing askew near the curtain, like a detective looking for a lead to a crime that will happen in the future.
What in God's name could go wrong on the stage?
I keep on acting. People don't respond much to my sentences, as if I am not there. But I am not complaining. They are immensely entertained by the Duchess. It's also funny how I am not supposed to be acting. The scene we're portraying supposedly has happened to me in Wonderland.
Oh, my. Oh, the paradoxical madness.
Jack jumps in the scene, curls his flexible body on the cook's table, and meows the Cheshire part. Jack is hilarious, like always. I hear the audience clap. My hand itches, wanting to clap too. Jack's ease with nonsense is charming, and he seems to have the talent for acting.
Then comes the cook's part.
He is a tall, interesting guy, different than as portrayed in Alice in Wonderland. Other than being tall and having his black hair fall down and cover his eyes, he is a bit scary for such a comedic event.
Uniquely dressed, I must say.
I turn back to the Pillar to see if he has his eyes on the cook. The Pillar does stare at him. He doesn't like him at all. I look back to see what's so odd about the cook.
Then I see it.
The cook wears a double-breasted white jacket, like all cooks do. Except this one looks like a straitjacket backwards.
Chapter 4 0
I swallow hard when I see the straightjacket. Is it supposed to be an artistic touch from the costume designer? The cook was mad in Lewis' book, obsessed with pepper and having a bad temper.
But the straitjacket also implies the possibility of a man who's just escaped an asylum.
The Pillar rushes onto the stage and interferes with the scene. Since this is the most improvised chapter, it's no big deal. He nears me and talks in my ear. It's obvious he wants to tell me something about the cook. I can't hear him, and I don't know how to weave this into the act.
"And who are you, strangely dressed man?" the Duchess says obnoxiously.