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“Come on Buddy,”I shake my head side to side, “it’s better as a duet! Therrrrrrrrrrre once was a man-”
“Oh, do shut up!” a voice shouts and I halt. The glow of the moons illuminates the shadow that steps out from the grass wall. Half my height, scruffy in a blue waistcoat. It’s the March Hare himself, from a fidgety button nose to jittery, floppy ears. His brown eyes hold a hint of nervousness, his whole get up giving me serious anxiety vibes. I smile in relief, then realize he just insulted my singing.
“Rude,” I hiccup. “I may be a tad off tune but - oooh tea!” I spot a cup in his hand. Snatching it, I take a gulp and then spit it out in an even spray, all over his twitchy face. “Yuck! What the fuck is that?!”
“Iced tea,”
“I…iced tea?” I blink several times, severely offended he let me drink that shit. Okay, it’s decided. Screw setting up a bus stop retreat; I’m going to have to open a café and show Wonderlust what a decent tea is supposed to taste like. Being plied with caffeine and only accepting lust as currency, I’m going to be one stimulated, satisfied slut-butt.
“Hey!” Hare clicks his tiny, hairy fingers in my face. “There’s no time for inner monologues.” Pulling out a cracked pocket watch with a gleam of crimson splatter beneath the glass, he taps it with an overgrown nail. “Reality is coming.”
“Then there’s only one thing to do,” I nod seriously, wrapping a hand around his ear. Turning, I run for my fucking life. Hare’s feet drag along the ground, his body bobbing up and down in the wind I create. “We can’t let reality take us alive!” Twisting down alleyway after alleyway, the moons follow my trail.
“No, you nitwit! I didn’t mean-” Hare shouts until I pull to a swift stop. A post stands tall before us, the signs pointing in all directions displaying ‘This Way’ - ‘That Way’ - ‘Underway’ - ‘You’re Doomed’ and all the usual. Hanging from the lowest sign, labeled ‘Certain Death’ a turned wooden handle hangs from cord like an old-fashioned toilet. Yay, I do like an antique flush. Yanking on it, Hare tries to tug himself free of my tight grip on his ear without success.
“Wait, no, don’t!” he cries out as the ground begins to shift. The dirt swirls into a whirlpool, covering my sneakers and pulling me along with it. Twirling in circles, the bottom gives out and we freefall into the earth. Landing on my back, I begin to slide south inside a tilted tunnel. Rings of rainbow lights flash when we skid underneath, the addition of a water jet fastening our descent. Planting Hare on my lap, I throw my arms above my head and enjoy the ride.
“Weeeeee!” Swishing through the tunnel, it curves and winds a path all the way down until we’re spat out of the end into a dank cave. Flame torches light the walls, the rumble of a roar echoing from somewhere in the distance. Chains rattle, the walls vibrate. Worse than that, Hare hops up and slaps his paw around my face. People have died for less.
“What the hell were you thinking?! I intended to lead you to the maze’s center but now we’re trapped in the Bandersnatch’s lair with no way out,” he rants and raves. Tossing the broken pocket watch into the ground, he taps his elongated foot irritably on the ground.
“Perhaps next time, you really should say something before we start running for our lives,” I shrug, moving out of the mini waterfall spewing out of the tunnel and onto my back. Brushing myself off, I start walking. “Come on, no use sitting around for death to find us. We must find it first.” I shove an index finger high in the air, counting left and right with each stomp of my corresponding foot. The distinctive hop of Hare bounces behind and I smile. I knew he’d see it my way.
“The Hatter was wrong about you.”
“Is that so?” I cock my head, intrigued by Hare’s flustered ranting.
“He believed you got what you liked, but I see the truth now. You just like what you get, which means all hope is lost. All lost, no hope. You couldn’t save a blind man from a piss-up in a brewery, never mind saving Wonderlust from itself,” he continues to grunt, his nose all twitchy and claws scratching out large tufts of fur.
However, I tuned him out after the word believed. What was it Hatter wrote on the backboard of his desk?Believe and you’ll receive.A crazy idea comes to mind and I tend to agree, they are quite the best kind.
Walking with long purposeful strides, the roar of the Bandersnatch grows louder. I imagine the walls of the extended cave turning to foliage, the brightening light ahead emanating from the sun. Warmth prickles my skin as my theory begins to work so I slow to allow the March Hare to hop by my side.
“I get the feeling you don’t care for me so much,” I muse aloud. Don’t ask me what it is about his furrowed, thick brows and snarl to his two protruding teeth that gives me the impression, but I pride myself on my intuition. Usually.
“You’re damn straight,” Hare grunts. He tugs the waistcoat down, more blood splatter trickling around the collar.
“Hmmmm.” I flop my head side to side, sifting the strands of my thoughts together into a web so they might start to make sense. “Yet you knew I’d follow you into the maze. By your own admission, to lead me to the center, but not to the Hatter after all. So…this was to be a trap,” my eyes widen in excitement.
Partly because I’ve activated my inner Sherlock Holmes and deduced what’s-on my mind. I burst into a laugh that ends in an ugly snort, cracking myself up. What’s-on, Watson, you get it. But returning to the moment, my anticipation is palpable. I do love a good trap. Hare freezes, falling behind my strides. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in the center of the maze then, isn’t it?”
The next step I take is on a dirt path, the cave disappearing in favor of a floral archway. At the top, a metallic flourishing holds a diamond in the middle. Just like the main entrance, two playing card statues reaching over ten feet stand either side, their spears lowered to create an X over the entrance. I duck underneath, stepping into the morning sun. We weren’t underground for more than ten minutes, yet the night has broken and passed without a trace, both moons missing from the sky. Hare follows.
As it so happens, the center of the maze is also home to Diamond Castle. A vast creation of marble and metal. Columns holding up the main entrance are carved into chess pieces, a King and a Queen. Other pieces can be seen amongst the design, turrets that replica rooks, windows in the shapes of knights. The main section of the building is one giant bishop, its rounded point stretching high towards the grey clouds seeping in. Statues of pawns line the walkway towards the front door, but I don’t need to go that far. To my right, on the manicured lawn and in plain sight of the morning sun, a guillotine stands tall and proud. The sharpness of its blade winks at me and I can’t suppress my laughter.
“What were you going to do? Follow me with the hopes I tripped and fell headfirst into the shackles,” I point at the wooden stocks before me, another fit of laughter rumbling through me.
“No,” Hare grunts. “I was going to do this.” I twist my head back in time to see him launch high in the air, slamming his furry feet into my back. I stumble forward, just catching the edge of the stocks and shove myself away. Diving across the ground, Hare comes for me again. I roll onto my back, my arms raised to catch Hare’s chubby cheeks around his vicious pointed teeth. Gnashing wildly, froth foams at his mouth.
“Ew, Hare. You really should look at the mouthwash you’re using,” I grunt out, shoving him aside. Rolling over him, my hands close around his neck just as a thin rod slides beneath mine. I’m torn away, gripping the metal that starts to choke me. Tugged against a hard body, the other playing card statue waltzes into view, rearing back his spear to stab me with it. I scrunch my eyes closed.
“The spears are made of liquorish,” I croak out. Sucking in a breath, I brace myself. “It’s just liquorish.” The rod at my throat falls limp, the other lashing me with the effectiveness of a wet noodle. Grinning, I drop to a squat and use my fists to side-hop like a chimpanzee. My head twists to the side, my eyes widen while that Cheshire grin pulls so hard, it hurts my cheek. Half of winning the battle is psyching out your opponent.
“How-how did you do that?” Hare shuffles back on his tail. Crossing the mini courtyard and scooping up the golden lace, I stand slow, flicking it back into a solid rod. The diamond spear at the end gleams in the sunlight, practically winking at me as I raise it over my shoulder.
“What, this?” I bat my eyelids, not bothering to hide my smugness as I mentally tell myself the playing cards are made of paper. The brass of their body’s ripples, fizzling away to reveal the flimsy sheets underneath. Panicking, they run into the center of the confined space, trying to hide behind each other’s backs while I close one eye to aim. Picking my moment carefully, I throw the spear like a javelin, impaling them both to the wooden beam of the guillotine in one hit.
Hare tries to make a run for it, diving into the grass wall. I lunge forward, snatching him by the tail. Carrying him at an arm’s length when he tries to gnash his jaws my way, I drop the oversized rodent into the stocks and knock the top half closed over his neck and paws. Perfect fit.
