How did he even get them out of their cells?
"What are they doing here?" I try to keep a stride or two away from the nearest fellow. I was thinking today was going to be my first day to mingle with normal humans. I guess I was wrong about that.
"The nature of your mission is highly secretive," the Pillar explains, patting a mad girl who hugs him tightly, as if he is the Easter Bunny. "I mean, maddeningly secretive. You're going to deal with the Cheshire Cat himself, a most wanted criminal Wonderlander." He excuses himself from his fangirl. “This means no sane person can be part of this.” He air quotes the word “sane.”
“And if anyone asks me what I am doing?” I say.
“Anyone, like who?” he wonders.
“Police for instance?” I tilt my head.
“Didn’t you listen to the Cheshire’s footage, explaining that this is a Wonderland War?”
“Yeah, right.” I purse my lips.
“Alice, Alice, Alice,” he sighs. “Here is how I look at it. In order to prove you are sane, you will have to do insane things. Think it over before you accept my offer. This is truly like a rabbit hole: once you fall in, there is no coming back.”
"You mean none of the nurses or wardens are even going to know?" I thought I could get Waltraud and Ogier to treat me better at least.
A mad Mushroomer laughs with puffy eyes at me and wiggles his forefinger into a “no.” He has a crooked big finger he could wipe windshields with.
"But Dr. Truckle knows," I remark, avoiding the Mushroomer.
"Oh, Tommy," the Pillar says. "I consider him one of us," he points at the patients. "He's just good at hiding it, fooling the universe that he is a sane man running an asylum. Isn't it so, Mushroomers?" He addresses the patients, who nod eagerly.
I rest my case.
The Pillar signals to a few of his Mushroomers to bring something. They arrive with a walking wardrobe on wheels, one that wasn’t here before. They pull it in front of me and point at it with drooling mouths. I’m now Alice, princess of fools.
"Harrods?" I read the name on the wardrobe. “You bought me clothes from Harrods?”
“I’m not sure we bought them,” the Pillar exchanges glances with them. “But they’re here, aren’t they? Insane people have to get dressed too." The patients nod at me.
I let out a long sigh, then breathe all the sanity I can think of back in. Before arriving, I was offered a nice shower in the underground ward. Waltraud and Ogier thought I was going to be examined by a highly regarded specialist outside of the asylum, where I’d be exclusively supervised by Dr. Truckle. I understand now that Waltraud is going to stay oblivious to my secret mission. But it's alright, who can resist a wardrobe from Harrods?
I rummage through it and end up choosing dirty blue jeans and a white t-shirt. A girl in tattered clothes flashes her thumbs at me, liking my choice of clothes. I can't help it, and toss her a dress out of pity. She looks at it for a moment, not knowing what to do with it, and ends up eating at it.
The Pillar tells me that it’s lightly snowing outside, so I add on a light blue pullover with a hoodie and long white sleeves. An older Mushroomer woman throws me white boots and giggles at me. Gotta love them loons. They're all I got, after all.
"Look at you," the Pillar looks happy. "A modern day Alice. Lewis would have been proud."
Although I don't have the guts to stare in a mirror to see how I look, I feel really fresh. I'm not sure if it's the clothes, the freedom, or my loony friends. But here I come, Wonderlanders.
The Pillar's fangirl passes me a pink watch. It's beautiful.
"I was going to get you a golden pocket watch, but then I faced some obstacles," the Pillar says.
"Couldn’t steal from the guys at Rolex?" I chuckle, putting on my watch.
"Problems with Wonderland rabbits actually. They are the watchmakers, and control the industry all over the world," the Pillar mocks me. "Caterpillars and rabbits don't get along, you know." The Pillar turns to look at a couple of Mushroomers working on a typewriter on his writing desk in his cell. They are typing furiously and debating about something. One of them types, the other pulls the bar to start a new sentence. They stare at it, as if it’s the atomic bomb. I peek in to see what this is all about. They keep gluing and cutting papers with scissors.
"Are we done, or what?" the Pillar puffs impatiently. I am wondering what this is all about.
One of them walks out of the cell with an old camera. It's a 19th-century style camera with bellows for focusing. He places it on a tripod in front of him and asks me to pose. I am still puzzled.