Why did I ever possess his soul?
Now, sitting here, his tears wetting his cheeks, he didn’t know whether to help Alice become a hero or resort to the evil one she had always been. It was a shame she didn’t know someone like Jack loved her so much. Even the Cheshire had begun having feelings for Alice.
How he wished someone loved him this way. The last cat he’d loved back in Belgium was a fraud. She was after the delicious rat he’d just caught.
But maybe the Cheshire was destined to become Jack. Alice’s lover. As weird and creepy as it was, even to him, it seemed his only way out of his pain of being a nobody.
Possessing any soul he wished didn’t prove him as invincible as he’d always thought. It was time for the Cheshire to be somebody. Jack seemed like a good choice.
Besides, he had begun to fall in love with the card player.
But still, sometimes the older Cheshire rose inside and wanted to vomit all of this love out. Yuck. It was as bitter as expired milk.
The Cheshire, confused like never before, sat on the bed with one last idea in his head. The most interesting, actually. He vowed not to make a decision about Jack’s love for Alice, not before he knew why Jack came back for her.
If he could only locate that part of the memory in Jack’s brain.
Chapter 63
THE PAST: BIG BEN, LONDON
“Go away!” Mrs. Tock shrills. “Who are you? Time travel isn’t possible.”
“Please, Mrs. Tock,” I say. “You promised to help me. How else do you think I figured out your hiding place?”
“Go away, you creepy girl in the wheelchair.”
I use her fear and wheel myself after her, creeping her out. “Think of it. I know a lot of things about you. Things no one else knows.”
“Like what?” She steps away from me.
“Like Mr. Tick loves tea.”
“So?”
“And brownies.”
“So what?”
“He never lets you near his brownies.”
She stops and stares skeptically at me. “It still doesn’t prove you’re from the future.”
“Tell you what.” I squeeze her against the wall with my wheelchair. “Forget about who I am. If I make Mr. Tick love you back, will you help me?”
“Says the young, inexperienced girl in a wheelchair.”
“Just humor me. Go now and stop time. He will like it.”
“We’ve stopped time a million times. It’s boring.”
“Because it never occurred to you to mess with people,” I say. “Stop time and push a car over the cliff. Make one woman bore into another’s nose. Switch things. It’ll be fun. He will like it.” Sorry, world. I have to do it.
“You think?”
“Just do it!”
***
I spend the next hour trying not to think about the crazy accidents happening in London when time stops. Mrs. Tock returns with a broad smile on her face. “He liked it.” She jumps in place. “He even swore to forget about Lorina Wonder. Who are you, creepy girl?”
“Says the creepiest woman in history.” I roll my eyes.
“What did you just say?”
“Was just coughing. So are you going to help me?”
“Only because you made my husband like me.” She sits next to me and rubs her chin. “Why do you want to travel back in time?”
So it’s possible, Mrs. Tock. “I need to go back to yesterday to save a few friends from dying.”
“Every fool’s wish.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone thinks if they go back in time, they can change the future. It never works. Whatever you do, time will find a way to stay on course—a few casualties and tiny changes might occur.”
Tiny changes. Like Jack staying alive? I’d like that. Also, I’d like to know what happened on the bus. “I’ll take whatever time gives me.”
“Time is sneaky and unreliable, I must warn you. Besides, if you’re from the future like you said, you’re going to die either way.” She eyes me. “I see you already know that. How long do you have?”
“Ten hours. Give or take.”
“Then I’d advise you to spend them messing with people’s minds here. You’re doomed, crippled girl.”
“Unless I find my Wonder in the past.”
Mrs. Tock laughs, throwing her head back. She raps on the table and addresses her husband. “Did you hear what she just said, Mr. Tick?”
“She wants to find her Wonder so she stays alive,” Mr. Tick says, sipping his tea and reading tomorrow’s news. A special Tick Tock edition.
“What’s wrong with finding my Wonder?” I say.
“You know what that even is?” Mrs. Tock snickers.
“The one thing we do in our lives and are forever proud of—or something like that?”
“You know how long me and Mrs. Tock have been alive?” Mr. Tick says. “We’ve never known what our Wonder is.”
That’s because you’re two mad morons, obsessed with the misery of others. “Leave that part to me. Just send me back in time.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Tock says. “Sometimes it’s better not to go back to yesterday.” She points at the tattoo on my hand. “Sometimes it’s better not to know.”
“I know the worst about me already. I don’t think it gets worse than that.”
“Send the poor girl back, Mrs. Tock,” Mr. Tick suggests. “At least she’d enjoy not being a cripple for the next few hours. Or were you a cripple yesterday, too?” he asks me.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“As you wish, my lovely husband.” Mrs. Tock rubs her hand on my eyes. “Now close your eyes and count to seven. Can’t guarantee you’ll wake in heaven.”
Chapter 64
THE PAST: ALICE’S HOUSE IN OXFORD, A DAY BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
The best thing about the past is that I’m not crippled. I wake up in a bed in a room I now remember well. The room on the second floor of the house where I’ve spent most of my adult life with my foster family.
The sun outside is shining brightly. There are no hints of the possibility of rain or greying skies. It looks like a beautiful day — unfortunately, the day I will kill my classmates.
I take a moment in front of the mirror, admiring my seventeen-year-old look. It boggles my mind how innocent I look. If I were the Bad Alice all this time, why don’t I feel like it in the past? Is it really the fact that the Pillar exposed me to the possibility of becoming a better person in the future? Do I really have a chance to rewrite my evil ways? To change the world?
I dress up for school and descend the stairs.
“Alice, darling,” my mother addresses me, fixing me sandwiches in the kitchen. Either I managed to fool her into thinking I’m innocent, or I really have the power to change. “I fixed you the tuna sandwich you love.”
“Thanks.” I take it and then slowly say, “Mum?”
She kisses me on the cheek. “Please forgive your sisters,” she says. “They’re horrible. One day they will know your worth.”
“Forgive them?”
“For what they did yesterday, locking you in the basement. Don’t you remember?”
“Ah, that.” I wonder if I should confront her with the knowledge that they’re not my sisters, and that she isn’t my mother. But what’s the point, really?
I need to ask practical questions. “Did you see Jack?” She must know him at this point — or doesn’t she know about my relationships at this time?
“What about Jack?” Lorina descends the stairs.
“I wonder where I can find him.”
“Why?” She snatches my sandwich and tucks it into her bag. “Tuna. Yuck!”