"The same way I escape my locked cell in the asylum." I sense pride in his words.
"That's not an answer."
"It's not meant to be," he says. "The same way you weren't meant to escape my limousine after I saved you."
"I woke up in a dress stained with pig blood," I explain. "I felt awful and wanted to get away from everyone."
"Even me?"
"Especially you."
"Although I saved you from sneezing to death?"
"You're not doing it for me. There is some plan you have, and I don't care to know it anymore. I'd just like know how I am still alive."
"Why is it so important to know how?"
"To make sure I am not insane." I shrug. "To make sure all of this is really happening."
"The way I escape closed rooms is meant to stay a secret," he says. "I can't help you with it."
Dr. Truckle's assumption about the Pillar and Houdini seem plausible now. "Are you a magician, Professor Pillar?" I can't help but turn around and face him, chuckling at my own nonsensical question.
"What's magic but facts humans are oblivious to see?" He utters the words as if he were a poet quoting Shakespeare.
"Another one of your vague answers." I sigh, frustrated. "I should stop getting my answers from you. I know I will find them elsewhere if I ask the right person." I look back at the tower.
"Is that why you sent a girl to your mother's house to gather information about the bus incident?"
I am not surprised that he knows, but I don't care. I decide to keep silent.
"Did she find anything useful?"
"Photos of my friends, some of which she sent to my phone."
"Recognize anyone?"
"None. She also found endless scraps of paper with my handwriting."
"Special phrases?"
"'I can't go back to yesterday...'"
"'...because I was someone else then,'" he finishes.
"Over and over again. You want to tell me what that's about?"
He shakes his shoulders nonchalantly.
"What really bothers me, she found no evidence of my Tiger Lily in my room," I say. "I mean if I feel so attached to that flower, wouldn't she at least find a photo or a book about flowers?"
"Forget about your flower," he says. "Did she find any photos of Jack?"
"Yes. Very nice photos. We were in love." I hold a single tear back, pressing harder on the phone.
"How do you know you were in love?"
"The way we looked at each other. It's the way only lovers do."
"Just that?"
"You wouldn't understand," I say. "There is one photo where Jack and I are at an Alice in Wonderland event, somewhere in Oxford, I believe."
"It's called the Alice Day," he says. "Usually celebrated on the 7th of July for a week. People wear everything Alice and eat a lot of tarts. The parade starts right there by the Alice Shop you visited last time down the street." He points beyond the gates of the university. "What about it?"
"I'm wearing an Alice outfit in the photo. Adam is wearing a"—I shrug—"Jack of Diamonds outfit, pretending to be one of the Queen's cards."
"I see." He drums his cane on the grass.
"Is that why I'm imagining Jack?" I turn back to face him. "Is the memory of that day so important to me that I imagined Adam resurrected as Jack? Is that true?"
"I thought you were sure he existed. A lot of other people saw him, too, didn't they?"
"But you never admitted seeing him."
"I pointed at Jack in the theatre and asked the host to make him wear the Cheshire costume, didn't I?"
"You may have been bluffing." I am guessing. "To get rid of the Cheshire's costume. Even so, why did you pretend you didn't see him before? Why did you say I was going to be with Jack in a few minutes if I died in the theatre?"
"Knowing Jack's true identity isn't going to make your life easier, Alice." He says it with all the confidence in the world.
"But you will tell me when this mission ends?"
"I can tell you now, if you want." He turns and dares my eyes.
I don't stare back. I didn't expect him to say that. My jaw drops. I have too many mixed feelings orbiting in my chest.
"I thought so," the Pillar says. "You're not ready to know. It's typical of people to keep seeking answers they can't handle yet. Questions are easy. Everyone's got many. Answers are hard, and usually unlikable."
Again, I hate it when the Pillar is right. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Delaying the truth a day or two isn't going to kill me. I am so afraid Jack is a figment of my imagination. I can't handle it if he is. Who has their boyfriend return from the dead? It's such a blessing, I can't deny.
In the darkness of my closed eyes, I glimpse a faint image of the homeless children in Victorian England. It urges me to open my eyes again and ask, "Now, tell me why you're really here."
"I know who the Muffin Man is, and the reason behind his killings."
I lean forward and stare directly at him. "I'm listening."
Chapter 4 6
"I didn't know the cook—I mean the Muffin Man—personally in Wonderland," the Pillar begins. "I didn't even know his name back then. It still puzzles me why they call him the Muffin Man. I think the Pepper Man fits better." He pauses. "Frankly, he was some nobody to me; a third-degree citizen, a middle-aged man with many kids, if I remember correctly."
"Third-degree citizen?"
"The lowest rank in Wonderland. We called them 'Galumphs.' Bloody mean, if you ask me," he says. "There was a rumor he had been one of the Queen's advisors, specializing in crops and farming. But I can't confirm that.
"My assumption is the Queen punished him, galumphed him, and sent him to work with the Duchess, who had always been Queen's favorite. But I'm not sure. I never visited the Duchess in Wonderland. I had always been friends with my mushrooms and hookah more than anything. Whatever the Muffin Man's story is, I believe Lewis knows it better."
"Do you at least know why he was obsessed with pepper, like it was mentioned in the book?"
"I have no idea," he says. "But what I'm about to tell you is a complicated story, so you have to bear with me and listen carefully." He stands up, stretches his arms, and enjoys the drizzle on his face. "Let's take a walk outside the university. I'd hate for you to spend your time out of the asylum sitting."
I comply. He reaches for my hand. I don't comply.
We walk slowly outside on St. Aldate's, saying nothing. It's as if he wants to enjoy the simple things in life for a few seconds. It does help me feel at ease.
The Pillar stops by some kids eating chocolate bars and asks for one. I notice most of these children are overweight, like the ones who died and the ones I saw in Richmond Elementary School. I look up at other kids walking by. Most of them are a little overweight for their ages as well.
A young girl gives the Pillar a chocolate bar, but he returns it and asks for the double bar. "I want the Snicker-Snackers double bar. One for me, and one for my friend." He points at me and ruffles her curly hair.
We keep walking.
"You see this chocolate bar?" he asks. "This is a Snicker Snackers bar, just like Happy Tart Bars, Bojoom Bars, and all the other Alice in Wonderland candy products infesting the world lately."
"The Meow Muffin among the list," I remind him. "What about them?"
"Don't you think this bar is a little too big in both size and portion?"