Chapter 12

I jump rocks, dodge sticks and branches. About a hundred yards into the woods is a large tree. I stop, leaning up against it, panting. They catch up. boys first. Chess second. March Hare third. "Well, that was fun," Chess says. I glare at him.
   "Oh, yes. That was a whole LOT of fun. I just LOVED risking my life, not just once, but THREE times, to save the three idiots that chose to wait for me under the JUBJUB nest when the poem specificaly says to BEWARE the JUBJUB bird! I just LOVED getting my ARM," I lift my left arm to emphasize the point, "all tore up, my hand scratched, and nearly falling to my DEATH twice! Oh, yes, lets do it again!" The three look down in shame. Even Chess looks ashamed. "What in the world were you THINKING?!?!" I glare at each of them.
   "There wasn't anywhere else to go to for a meeting place..." March Hare says meekly.
   "You guys are supossed to be guiding me! How can you guide me if you can't even guide yourselves away from the JubJub bird? You went straight to it! Offered yoursleves up to it!" Why aren't they saying anything?! "Say something!!!" They are silent. Ugh. "Look, if you want to actually help me save Trea, then you will meet me in Tugley Wood. I'll find it some way, with or without you. I need to be alive to save him. I'm the one that must slay that Jabberwalk. Not you. Trea doesn't need you right now. He needs the person that can and will slay the Jabberwalk. I'm the one that is supossed to need you all." I stand for one moment, hoping they will relent some how, someway. They stand as though frozen. I shake my head in disgust and turn on my heel.

How am I supposed to find Tugley Wood now? I don't have anyone to help me. I'm not in the Mind Maze, so its not like I'll get there just by thinking about it. Ugh. They know their way, so I am not going to turn around. They must catch back up to me. I am not going to turn around. I am not going to turn around. I am not- I'm turning around. I can't get there shamed faces out of my mind. Its like they felt they completely let me down. Which they did, but they showed it. In a heartbreaking way. I can't not turn around. Its a must. I need them. And they feel they need to help me.
  "Alright, come on, everyone. I can't do this without you," I say as soon as I am within ear-shot. "Sorry I was so harsh on you."
  "But you were right," March Hare says. "It was ridiculous to do what we did."
  "And I oughtn't have said what I did." Is that Chess? Apoligizing? No way.
  "Sorry, Alyssa," the boys say in unison.
  "Dum out to have known," Dee says.
  "No, Dee should have known," Dum retorts.
  "If you had, then I would have!"
  "If you didn't then I wouldn't!"
  "But," I say, interrupting them, "You both knew, so you shouldn't have." They stop short, mouths open. I think I stole one of their lines. "Come, let's go. Trea is depending on us. Now, which way to the Tugley Wood?"
  "This way," the boys say, pointing opposite directions. Of course. I roll my eyes upward and grin half way. Don't you worry, Trea. We'll get to you soon. I promise. I shake my head. I decide to follow March Hare.

"The first thing from here is to go through the Borogrove were the Mome Raths are," March Hare says.
   "Mome Raths? As in, from the poem?"
   "Yes, 'All mimsy were the Borogroves and the Mome Raths outgrabe.'"
   "What does that even mean?"
   "The Borogroves are happy and delightful, and the Mome Raths are outragous, or rather, they are quite irritable."
   "A grove being happy? How is that possible?"
   "Oh, it is quite possible," Chess says. "All you need is a living forest. Not those where trees merely exist; they don't show feelings. But I mean a real living forest. They can be happy or sad, even angry."
   "Their limbs Hurt!" The boys shout in tandem.
   "I take it that you both have been mad at by a tree?" I ask.
   "Dee has, certainly-"
   "Signicant: Dum's been-"
   "I hadn't!"
   "Did too!"
   "Boys!" I scold lovingly. "Its ok. We all have been mad at. It is nothing to be ashamed of."
   "Yeah, but not by a tree!" Dee exclaims.
   "A tree being mad hurts more than anyone else getting all mad at you!" Dum reiterates. I look helplessly at March Hare.
   "Its true," March says. "It has been said all over Underland that mad trees hurt more than most things, short of the pain that brings death." My eyebrows shoot up in alarm. That means it will be as bad or close to the Jabberwalk.
   "Do not fret, Alyssa," Chess says. "The trees do not get provoked easily."
   "Then how in Dimmerland did Tweedles get mad at by them?"
   "They were wanting to build a tree house."
   "What? Why would that be a bad thing?"
   "Wouldn't you get mad if some one wanted to build a house and it required chopping the likes of YOU, Alyssa, to make it?" March Hare explains.
   "Oh... I would get angry. But it does seem like a simple and innocent request."
   "Only too people that have never been in a living forest. You have lived on Earth your whole life. There, you only have existing forests, not living ones. Your trees are not capable of feelings or wants or dreams. Those of the living forest do." I can't believe it, but what he says actually makes sense.

"And what about the Mome Raths? What are they?"
   "They are like squirrle," March Hare goes on. "Only... they have the temper of a badger. You want to steer clear of them if you want the least amount of trouble."
   "Why are they so irritable?"
   "No one knows," Chess replies, simple as ever.
   "I should like to find out."
   "Nuh!" They ALL say at once.
   "What?" I ask, utterly confused.
   "You don't want to ask."
   "Why not? You said yourself that no one knows!"
   "Because," March says, "If you ask, they will be tempered at your sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."
   "..." That's odd. Well, I guess it makes sense. But... I heave a sigh. It's not like I have any time for that anyways. I can't stand around, chatting like Trea doesn't need my help.

"You might want to introduce yourself," Chess says.
   "Excuse me?" I start.
   "Before you enter the Borogrove. It is only polite to do so," March Hare says.
   "Ah... But how does one talk to a tree?"
   "Hello, tree-work of Borogrove! I'm Tweedledee and he's Tweedledum!"
   "Likewise, I'm Tweedledum and he's Tweedledee!" I see. So you speak to them like you would a person.
   "Hello, Borogrove Tree-work. I am Alyssa."
   "Alyssssssaaaaaaa..." I barely hear it, like it is whispered in the wind. The tree infront of me bends down. What?! "Where are you from?" it says. It sounds like a thousand, low voices, all of them hollow.
   "I am from Earth. But I live in Dimmerland now."
   "Errrrrttttthhhhh..." it whispers on the wind. "Diiiiiimmmmmmerrrrrrlannnnnd..." A momments pause passes. "Why are you here at the Borogrove Tree-work?"
   "My group and I are wanting to pass through so that we can rescue my dear friend."
   "Paaaaaasssss tttthhhhrrrrrroouuuuughhhh..." I think the whispering sound is the trees talking to eachother, letting them all know what is going on. "What is your friend's name and from what does he need rescuing?" My heart catches, but I carry on.
   "His name is Istrangelabeutrea. He is commonly known as Hatter. He needs rescued from the Jabberwalk, in Tugley Wood." There is a rustling in the treetops. Like a commotion. One sound I keep hearing is "kiiiiiiinnnnnnggg..." in the wind like whispering.
   "Hear this: Do not stop. Do not delay. An Evil Wind Hath come this way. We saw in the tops, the dear king, clear as day. Not one creature in Borogrove shall interupt, or it shall face the wrath of our tree-work. The King's life depends upon it!"

With that, a clear pathway parts. The trees literally uprooted themselves to reveal the path. The path is stick-straight. I'm guessing that the path is pointing us in the clear direction of the Tugley Wood. I look up, not sure where the seeing organisms are (after all, they don't have eyes, per sae). "Thank You, Borogrove Tree-work!" The sun is up high. Is it Noon already? It doesn't seem possible! We march along the pathway.
   "Nnnnooooooooonnnn..." I hear the trees say to eachother. Thud. Thud. Thudthudthud. Apples and pears and oranges fall from every tree. "Eat. Take some with you. You need to eat," the Borogrove says. Strange how it is so much like it is one entity, with knowing eyes all over. And yet, it feels natural. Normal. It doesn't freak me out in any way. Haha, maybe its a side affect of living in Dimmerland! My, isn't that a strange thing! I think if I were to ever move back to Earth, I would have a hard time accepting all the so-called normal things. After being here, I'll wonder why cats don't smile, animals don't talk, snakes won't dissappear by ignoring them, and why trees are only existant! To think I've ever lived in a place like that when it seems like I've belonged here all of my life.
   "Alyssa, sit down and eat," Dum says.
   "No, Alyssa, you must eat and sit" Dee attempts to counteract, failing miserably.
   "I won't do either," I say with a brief laugh. "And niether will you. We will walk and eat. The fruit are light. We can carry some with us." I bend down and pick up an orange.

"Hey, girl! Thats MY orange!" I look down. And I see a squirrl-like creature. I give a short laugh.
   "Go ahead, There are plenty more."
   "Hey, that's not fair!" the squirrly thing says. "You can't have the right to all that fruit! They should be up for grabs by everyone, just the same! They all have fallen to the ground! So you can't have the next one, either!"
   "Ok, then you can have the second. I'll take the third and fourth. They can each have two in turn. How is that?"
   "I don't like it. There isn't enough food in the Borogrove as it is. They never give up their fruit on time! And just when they want to give them up, you want to take them!"
   "Are you a Mome Rath?" It looks at me.
   "Of course I am. Can't you see that? We have all looked the same, always have!" I see. Mome Raths do have a temper, for sure.
   "Listen, we don't need much. We are on our way out of the Borogrove Tree-work. We only need about two each. You can have the rest."
   "You can't have any!" I shake my head at the greed. There is no talking to it. A tree bends down. A branch lowers and picks up the Mome Rath. "Hey! Put me down!" Another branch comes down swiftly, and whacks the Mome Rath. I wince. It looks like it hurts. I turn back to the path, picking up another orange and an apple.
   "Let's get going. I don't want get any one else into trouble," I tell the group.