“He escaped. We don’t know where he is. Don’t worry. He always comes back. Now, look!”
This time the host has decided to change her mind again. “Sorry for this confusion, but the newest thing we know is that the three of them, Carter Pillar, Alice Wonder, and Jittery Jinks all escaped lunatic asylums during the plague which explains their mischievous behaviors, including the horrible matter of killing hundreds of innocent Columbian men.”
“Told ya. Hero for five minutes,” the Pillar says.
“This will only make my problems worse.” Tom Truckle grunted. “I should have never let you two out of here.”
I am speechless. It’s a mad world indeed. But aside from needing some time to reflect on what happened with Carolus, I need to find Jack. Did he escape, looking for me?
“Where are you going?” The Pillar pulls me back. “You haven’t seen the best part.”
This time, when he points at the TV, a broad laugh from the heart escapes my lungs.
They’re airing a still image of when the Pillar and I were injecting the Queen and the American president. From this angle, this picture looks so misleading. The Pillar looks as if he has his hands up the president’s butt, mine in the Queen’s.
And it’s not just that. The grins of victory on our face proves without a doubt we’re the looniest loons in the world.
The Pillar tries to suppress the laugh for a second but then explodes. He throws the hookah and pulls my hand and starts dancing with me.
Then the Mushroomers start laughing.
A few wardens snap out of the shock of what they’re looking at and join us laughing hysterically.
Even Tom’s teenagers laugh with us.
Everyone laughs but Tom, who pulls out a load of pills and swallows them without water. He then stiffens, unable to control the laughs. Trying to shout at us doesn’t work. The veins on his neck stick out with anger, and I’m afraid he is going to have a heart attack.
Then a miracle happens.
Tom Truckle begins laughing like a madman. I don’t think he knows what he is laughing about, but it’s progress from him.
Chapter 107
Buckingham Palace, London
“Get your hands off me!” The Queen roared at Margaret, trying to mend her wounds. “I have an itch as big as an apple on my butt.”
“Royal butt heals faster than all” A young man enters her chamber all of a sudden.
The Queen and Margaret look perplexed.
“Don’t worry, I’m not Jack,” the Cheshire said. “I just borrowed him for a while. Very useful, fella. Good looking, too.”
“What do you want?” the Queen says.
“I want you to meet my friend.” The Cheshire welcomes Carolus inside.
“What is he doing here? We made a deal. I thought he was going to kill Alice while I ruled the world.”
“Funny how none of this happened.” The Cheshire enjoys a slump into a sofa and stretches his leg, his boot in the Queens face.
“You look like you want your head cut off,” she said.
“You know you’ve never succeeded in doing that, not even in Wonderland.”
“What do you want?” Margaret said.
“I want the four of us to be friends.”
“And why would we accept that?” Margaret said.
“Because it seems to me like this Alice is really the Alice.”
“I’m not going to listen to this nonsense again.” The Queen stood up.
“Think about it. She had Carroll’s key. And if that isn’t proof enough, how about that she just bought the Inklings bar and is looking for the Six Members?”
The Queen’s face tightened. “Who told her about the Inklings?”
“Doesn’t matter.” The Cheshire stood, too. “What matters is that, even if this girl is delusional, she isn’t stopping. She has a heart made of breathing fire.”
“Suppose she is,” Margaret said. “Where is all of this going?”
“We need to start to work together. Let’s forget our pasts and grudges and unite to get the Six Keys, and then we can bite at each other all we want.”
Margaret looked at the Queen for advice.
“Listen,” the Cheshire said. “Carolus is a madman when he needs his pill. I have incredible powers. Margaret is a ruthless woman. And you, My Queen, there is no one as evil as you are.”
The Queen felt pleasure. She liked the compliment.
“So be it,” she said. “If the Inklings are gathering, then I may as well welcome you and Carolus into Black Chess. But as long as you do as I say.”
“Thank you,” the Cheshire said.
“And don’t ever grin in my presence. God. You’re a creep.”
“As you wish,” he said. “Did you ever know Tom Truckle, the Radcliffe Asylum’s director is a Wonderlander, by the way?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I tried to posses him, but couldn’t.”
“Can’t be. I’m sure I’d recognize most Wonderlanders.” The Queen dismissed him.