chapter 3

Running and running,

Turning in glory

Flowing blossoms,

Tall grass fields,

Songs about,

And crazy dances.

The light fades,

The music stops,

I am Queen no more.

The Jabberwalk

Comes in,

Destroys everything

Whilst running about

Subjects panic,

And in dismay,

I scream in fright

And I awake!

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 I'm gasping for breath. Why am I having the same confounded dream?! 'Oh, the horror!!!' I get up out of bed and go to the kitchen. I think I need a glass of water.

   "Are yo-"

   "AAAAHHH!!!" I scream. Then I realize it is only Trea. "Oh, Trea, you scared me!"

   "I'm sorry, Lyssie. I was just asking if were up too, but now I see that that is a ridiculous question. The better question is, would you like some tea?" I smile. I can't help it despite being so tired.

   "Is that all you drink?"

   "No, but it is terribly good for the nerves." Again, I smile.

   "Yes, I would like some." Trea pours me some more tea. We are silent for a while. The tea does seem to have special soothing properties to it.

 "So why are you so jumpy and awake this late at night?"

   "Oh, a confounded dream I've been having lately. That's all."

   "What was it about?"

   "It's about that book about Wonderland. These are the words I remember: running and running; turning in glory; flowing blossoms; Tall grass fields; songs about; and crazy dances. The light fades; the music stops; I am Queen no more. The Jabberwalk; comes in; destroys everything; whilst running about; subjects panic; and in dismay; I scream in fright; and I awake!"

   "That is a curious dream. And you have had this one for more than one night?"

   "Yes, more than one night. I don't know why every one of them are in poems. But all of them are the same. Running and frolicking about and all is well. Then everything goes bad, I'm not Queen, and the Jabberwalk destroys something or everything."

   "Yeah, that is strange. Perhaps Time is trying to tell you something."

   "Oh, please! I don't believe in that nonsensical stuff! Even if I do imagine many things myself!" I say with a laugh.

   "Please do not laugh at Time. He really can do things of the sort. Time transcends all. Things and dreams included. Surely you don't think it ridiculous as that!" He says, appearing hurt.

   "Time really does do things of the sort?"

   "Oh, yes, absolutely!"

   "Why would he do such a thing before he and I got aquatinted? Surely he wouldn't bother with me beforehand! This dream has been going on for quite a while now. It isn't just after I met you. It’s been like this for a good long while."

   "I don't know. Perhaps if you got more aquatinted with Him He'll tell you why." "..."

   "..."

  "See here. Day has dawned. We must drink our morning tea now."

   "Haha, it's all about tea for you now, isn't it? Do you ever take a break from tea time?"

   "I don't get out much, as you can imagine. But when I do, yes, I take a break from tea." I smile in a form of contentment. "And, no. It is not all about tea anymore."

   "Any more?" hoping... hoping... hoping...

   "No, not any more. Dimmerland is gone. Wonderland is back." Trea smiles crookedly. I'm left hanging. Is my hope true or is it wrong? Oh, can't anything be simplistic anymore?

   "Come, now. Haven't you any friends?" I ask.

   "Yes, but few."

   "I should like to meet them."

   "I'm not sure that you would."

   "Why ever not?"

   "They aren't the sanest of people..."

   "Yet you've learned to like them and befriend them. Perhaps I could, too."

   "..."

   "Besides, if I am to stay in Wonderland like I am planning, oughtn't I get to know the people here?"

   "... I suppose..."

   "Is there something wrong, Trea?"

   "No. I just thought..." He trails off again.

   "You thought what?" I prod.

   "Don't worry about it. Come, let's go. I'll take you to March Hare." Trea seems disappointed. Why?

   "'Hatter, Why is a raven like a writing desk?'" I say, quoting the book. Trea turns to me with a glimmer in his eye. Something catches in my chest.

   "Come. We don't want to be late. The March Hare doesn't like it." He gives the crooked grin. I do my best to hold back my giddiness. He turns and walks out the door and I stare at his hand, following him closely. I want him to lead me by the hand again...

 Who says the Hatter is mad? I don't see that in the least bit! I think Lewis Carroll was misinformed. Poor Trea. And Alice. Misrepresenting Trea and all of wonderland, really. And Alice thinks that wonderland is nothing more than a dream. How depressing can that be? Trea is kind and sweet. Not rude like in the book. But at least I know there is some truth to it. After all, Trea knew what I meant by speaking of Alice and the riddle. OH! I bet that was the riddle he was going to ask me so that I may stay! Well, no worries about that in the least!

   "Trea?" I say, trailing off in my voice, not sure what to say next. Or at least, how to put my question.

   "What is it, Lyssie?"

   "Did you ever meet Lewis Carroll?" Trea gives me a strange look.

   "No... I have not. Do you know him?"

   "No. I was just wondering. So everything that he wrote down was actually from Alice, then."

   "I suppose."

   "Well, she certainly messed up the facts, then! She certainly remembered it all wrong!"

   "What do you mean?" Trea begins to look troubled.

   "I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm sorry."

   "Go ahead. I must know what she thinks."

   "Well, to start, she thinks the whole place is a dream. Then, she met a cat, named Cheshire. Of course, I have much to learn about Wonderland. But, so far, no cat to speak of."

 "Oh, really?" a coy, gruff voice says. I look about and cannot place the whereabouts of the owner. "I don't exist yet?" And a cat appears out of thin air.

   "Are you Cheshire Cat?" I ask.

   "What do you call yourself?"

   "I asked first. Are you Cheshire Cat?"

   "Actually, I asked first. I don't exist yet?"

   "I didn't say you don't exist. I said SO FAR there is no cat to speak of. Now, are you Cheshire Cat?"

   "As sure as my grin," the floating cat says, causing a void in the middle of his face where his grin should be. "Just call me Chess."

   "Haha, ok, Chess. You do exist to be spoken of."

   "Now, what do you call yourself?"

   "My name is Alyssa," I say with a grin all my own, giving a sideways glance to Trea, hoping he can read my look.

   "Hang on tight, Hatter. That is all I will say." And then Chess disappears. Trea pulls down on the sides of his top hat, securing it steadfastly to his curly red-head. I laugh. Trea goes red.

   "Oh, c'mon, Trea! Is it so bad Chess telling you to hang onto your hat?" Trea just reddens more, and I can't help but wonder if there is a hidden meaning behind the cat's words. We remain silent for the rest of the trip to March Hare's house.