Down The Rabbit Hole Into Madness - Chapter 18

Alice in Wonderland

“Goodness!” gulped Alice out loud as she tumbled awkwardly out of the rabbit hole, her pale blue dress billowing like a parachute. She landed in an ungraceful sprawl on the soft, strange ground.

“Where am I?” she asked. Her voice echoed faintly in the curious landscape. She re-tied the black ribbon in her shoulder-length blond hair and smoothed out her white apron.

Alice stood wide-eyed and disoriented as she looked down at the odd checkerboard grass that glowed faintly as if lit from underneath. The trees were bent at impossible angles, their trunks striped red and white like candy canes.

Leaves caught by the gentle breeze spiraled upward to twist and turn in an elegant, weightless dance. As the leaves ascended, they emitted soft chime-like sounds.

“What is this strange place?” she whispered to herself.

The sky above swirled with chaotic streaks of pink, orange, and deep indigo, the colors flowing as if teased into motion by a mischievous breeze. Clouds zipped in many directions like startled birds--some shaped like teacups, others like chess pieces. The air smelled sweet like cotton candy.

Thistle’s eyebrows arched in surprise as she stared at the newcomer. “She’s not supposed to be here…is she?”

The White Rabbit, as frazzled as ever, dashed about with his pocket watch. “This is most irregular!” his nose twitched repeatedly as he caught Alice’s scent.

Alice jumped as the checkerboard grass beneath her feet started to rearrange itself in a living chess game. “What is this place? And… who are you?” she demanded.

Before Thistle or the White Rabbit could answer, a deep voice bellowed directly behind her.

“Who dares trample on my roots?

Startled, Alice jumped, her black Mary Jane shoes scuffing against the tree roots that curled upward in anger.

“Did the tree say something?” Alice gasped as she took another step back.

The White Rabbit squeaked; his ears flattened against his head as he began to hop frantically in circles.

“Oh dear, oh dear! This is bad—very bad. We’re doomed, doomed, I tell you!” his paws skittered on the undulating grass.

“I…I didn’t ask to come here! It was an accident!” Alice stammered. “I just—fell.”

Thistle giggled. “Oh sure. People do it all the time—except they usually have the sense to watch where they’re falling--”

“No time for accidents here! We need to run—yes, running is good! Quickly now!” exclaimed the Rabbit, wringing his paws as he dashed back and forth between Alice and Thistle.

“You have the audacity to fall and land on my roots?” The tree’s voice erupted like a volcano. Its roots heaved through the checkerboard grass, causing the ground to ripple like a pond disturbed by a stone. The squares rose and fell, which sent Alice stumbling toward Thistle who continued to laugh gleefully.

“What—what’s happening?” Alice cried. Her arms flailed as she muttered, “This place is impossible!” Her breath rushed in short bursts as she struggled to make sense of the chaos.

The irate tree straightened itself with a creaking groan. Its colorful bark split into what looked like a frowning face; its branches reached gnarled fingers to grab Alice.

“That’s enough!” warned Thistle in a sharp voice. She darted in front of Alice, her wings beating furiously. “Pick on someone your own size, Twiggy!”

Alice blinked rapidly; her cheeks flushed.

The tree’s roots ripped through the checkerboard ground with a tremendous crack, sending clumps of dirt and grass through the air. “Trespassers like you have no respect! You think you can enter Wonderland without permission?”

Dirt and gras rained around Thistle’s wings. Respect?” Thistle snickered. “Oh, forgive me ‘your high and mighty leafiness.’ Next time I’ll be sure to knock on your trunk first.” She managed an exaggerated curtsy in the air.

The tree’s branches shook with fury. “You dare mock me?” It swayed unsteadily, then stomped one massive root in Thistle’s direction.

“Mock you? Oh no,” Thistle said with a grin. “I wouldn’t dare. But you act like we chopped you down—”

“Thistle!” The White Rabbit waved his paw, so panicked his voice came out squeaky. “Stop! This is a most delicate situation, and I’m already dreadfully late—the Queen!”

“Silence!” boomed the tree.

Its rage sent shivers down Alice’s back. She staggered backward, her eyes fixed on the tree’s furious form. “I—I didn’t mean to disturb you!”

The tree’s wooden facial features contorted with suspicion. “You brought them here, sprite, didn’t you?”

“Quiet your bark, you old stump!” Thistle retorted.

“Pardon me! Pardon me!” the White Rabbit squeaked as he hopped in front of Thistle. “I assure you… this is all a dreadful mistake! Yes, dreadful! You see, we’re simply passing through—absolutely no harm intended! Time is ticking, after all, and oh, so much to do!”

The rabbit tugged urgently at the hem of Alice’s dress. “Oh dear, oh dear! This is bad—very bad indeed! We should – we need to go! Quickly!”

The tree roared again; its voice crashed like thunder. “None shall leave until I’m satisfied!” Leaves scattered like shards of glass, catching the strange light from the sky.

Alice froze, her hands clutched her apron. “Satisfied?” she asked. “What does it want?”

Thistle tilted her head, giggling, “Oh, don’t worry…probably an apology would do.”

Alice struggled to steady herself on wobbly legs. “This can’t be real…” she whispered.

Thistle called out to the tree, “So what will it be, bark face? An apology or should we all line up for a group hug?”

The Rabbit squeaked in horror. He scurried to hide behind Alice and flopped his ears over his eyes.

The tree growled. “Touch me and you’ll regret it!”

Thistle’s grin widened. “I have an idea…” Tapping her chin, she continued, “Time for a little… change of scenery.”

The tree began to vibrate slightly, the ground around it trembled, and the air buzzed with a strange energy. A low humming sound started to build as the tree began to shrink and warp.

“You can’t do this to me…” moaned the tree.

Its bark softened and its branches curled up like a retracting fan. The hum reached a higher pitch until suddenly, the tree was no more.

Alice blinked as she watched while the White Rabbit peered out anxiously from behind her white stockinged legs, muttering, “Oh dear, oh dear, this is bound to end badly! If the Queen finds out--”

In the tree’s place stood a large, bright colorful mushroom with a rounded cap as soft as a pillow. The mushroom leaned slightly to one side as it settled into its new form. Smoke wisped from the mushroom cap in unexpected puffs as though someone had already put it to use.

Alice raised her eyebrow. “Goodness! A mushroom?” she asked, baffled. “Is it supposed to do that?”

Thistle’s wings fluttered lightly as she chuckled. Delighted with her own cleverness, she said, “It might offer you a seat and a smoke later.”

The Rabbit’s nose began to twitch rapidly. He shook his pocket watch up and down in distress. “We need to move on! Now!” His voice waivered in panic as his pink eyes flickered between the mushroom and the horizon. “If the Queen finds out what we’ve done to her tree…” he paused as his voice dropped to a desperate plea. “She’ll have us made into rhubard pie—all of us!”

“Oopsie,” Thistle laughed. “So glad we had this chat.”

Alice glanced at Thistle and then at the Rabbit. “Does…does this sort of thing happen often here?”