Текст книги "Figment"

Автор книги: Cameron Jace

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Chapter 3 7

"Hey," he whispers, sliding down in his chair and tightening the ice cream cap on his head. "I was thinking."

I say nothing. I am happy he is there. It's illogical. It doesn't make sense, but I can't fight the feeling.

"About what I said about marrying you," he says. "I can't."

"Why?" I raise an eyebrow, whispering, pretending to be surprised.

"It's not because I don't like you," he says. "I told you I am mad about you."

"You said that before, Jack."

"Saying it every morning won't express how I really feel." He squeezes my hand. "But it's just...I'm not ready for marriage."

I act upset. "You think you're too young?" I whisper.

"I am too poor, but that's not the reason," he says. "They fired me from Oxford University today, so I practically have no future now."

"Why did they fire you?" A smile sticks to my face and promises not to leave me as long as Jack is nearby.

"It's silly," he says. "They said I was dead. Can you believe that?"

I shrug and pull my hand away. I feel guilty when I hear this. Why does he keep bringing up the subject?

"No." His eyes moisten when I pull my hand away. "I'm not really dead. They just think that. How can I be dead? I am here talking to you. What bothers me is that they said that my name isn't Jack, which is really absurd."

"Then you're not fired. They can't fire you without getting your name right," I suggest.

"I know. I am not giving up, trust me. I will do my best to become a great man and deserve you."

"Selling 'Ice Scream' sounds like a start," I tease, easing my aching heart.

"I did try racing in France, but it didn't work," he says. "It's like I don't know what I really want yet."

"I know the feeling." I pull his hands back. He seems the happiest boy on earth.

"Alice." His voice gets softer. "Don't bother with me. It's you that matters."

"Why do you say that?"

"Just listen. I don't think you know what you are capable of." He holds both of my hands, and his look in my eyes intensifies. "Trust me. You have no idea. I know it's a bumpy road, but you will be all right." His eyes sparkle as his gaze scans every part of my face adoringly. I think he is about to kiss me.

Just before he does, the Pillar interrupts and asks whom I am talking to.

"It's Jack." I sigh. Bad timing, Pillar. Very bad timing.

"Who's Jack?"

"You know who," I grunt.

"Ah, the boy who is not there," the Pillar says, watching the show with interest. "I assume he is on your right side now."

"He is."

"Tell him I said hi, because I can't see him," the Pillar says. "Tell him I wonder if he'll still be there when the light turns on."

"I will be," Jack says, finally confronting him. "You shouldn't walk with this man, Alice." Jack squeezes my hand.

Silence steals my breath away. I am still confused about the Pillar's reaction to Jack. I am also heart-warmed by Jack wanting to become a better man to marry me.

Then the silence breaks when the glaring spotlights from the stage are directed toward me. When I look up, the man hosting the play is talking to me.

"Hey, miss," he says in the echoing microphone.

I say nothing, freaked out by the sudden and unexplainable attention.

"Yes, you." He points my way. "Are you even watching the show?"

The crowd laughs.

"We've chosen you to kindly approach the stage," the host says. "I believe you haven't heard us."

"Why?"

"This is the part of the show the reviewers said is the most refreshing. The 'Pig and Pepper' chapter," the man explains. "We select a girl from the crowd to portray Alice for a short scene. Amateur improvisation. You haven't had any kind of acting lesson before, have you?"

"No." I shrug.

"Fabulous," he says. "It's really going to be fun. Would you mind approaching the stage?" The man stretches a welcoming arm.

The crowd encourages me to go.

"No thank you," I say. I am not going to do some acting improvisation on stage on my fifth day out in the real world.

"Yes!" The Pillar stands up and encourages the crowd to clap their hands. "She will come." He pulls me up, sneering at me.

Finally, I get the message. The Pillar thinks this is the part where we meet the Muffin Man. Come to think of it, he might be right. Why would the host choose me to get on stage? It's too much of a coincidence.

"I'm her uncle," the Pillar says. He needs no other introduction to the crowd. "She doesn't go anywhere without me, which means I will approach the stage with her."

"Hmm..." The host sighs. "If she is going to play Alice, who do you suppose to play, then?"

"I'll play the doorknob," the Pillar says.

The crowd goes nuts, laughing.

"I always wanted to be the doorknob." The Pillar smiles like a child again. "You know, the doorknob Alice has to talk to when she is crossing the Pool of Tears."

"And I am her husband." Jack appears. "I mean, her boyfriend. I mean, I am Jack. I could play...hmm...Jack. Jack of Diamonds," he stutters, uncomfortable with the many faces looking at him.

I take my time to hear the crowd's reaction to Jack. They see him, or no? Come on. They saw him as an ice cream boy before. Why not see him now?

A long, long moment passes before the host says, "Why not. You may approach the stage." The man turns his back to us and waves his finger.

My heart drops to the floor. I want to know if he sees Jack.

A few steps in, the man turns back, annoyed by our slow reaction. "Hurry, we have limited stage time. Come on stage, the three of you."

Chapter 3 8

Performing stage, Drury Lane Theatre, London

I hold Jack's hand as we get on stage. The Pillar walks behind us, avoiding my sharp looks. I still don't understand why he wants me to think Jack doesn't exist. All those audience members can't be wrong.

Once on stage, I am dazzled again with the accurate reality up there. It's a huge stage, but everything feels so real. The trees leading to house of the Duchess, where we're supposed to meet her and her insane cook, smell just like normal trees do. When I reach out to touch them, the host offensively slaps my hands and tells me to concentrate on the play. He also orders the Pillar and Jack to wait by the curtains until he figures out their roles.

"My uncle could play the Cheshire Cat," I tell the host, grinning with joy at the Pillar. If he still pretends Jack doesn't exist, this is my chance to get back at him. I know it's childish, but I'd rather call it mad.

"Don't be silly, Alice." The Pillar tries to keep his posture.

"Actually, it would be fun," Jack says to the host. "With the right cat costume, the audience will love it."

"Agreed." The host hands the Pillar the cat costume. The Pillar squirms at even thinking about wearing the skin of his cruelest enemy.

I can't help but smile. A little revenge would make him not lie to me again.

"If you come near me, I will kill you, cook you, and eat you with a whole lot of pepper," the Pillar growls. "Give it to the brilliant Jack," he says, still not pointing at him.

"So, you do see Jack," I say.

"Of course. Of course," he mutters. "Now get going with the play."

Jack wears the cat outfit, thinking maybe acting is the career he should try. The host gives me a blonde wig to wear to play Alice. When I ask him what I should do exactly, he says I could improvise on the scene in the book where Alice enters the Duchess' house and meets her pepper-obsessed cook.

"But if you want to stay true to the book, there is a baby in the scene as well." The Pillar's inquisitive tone is unmistakable. He does believe something bad is going to happen in this scene.

"Well, we did have a baby," the host said. "But human rights groups prohibited kids under seven acting on stage until the Watermelon Murders are over."

"Understandable." The Pillar peeks upward, probably at Margaret Kent's balcony. The curtains block the view from where we stand.

I think about the actress who'll be playing the Duchess' part. Does she have any idea the real Duchess is watching the play?

Is that why Margaret Kent is here?

"Shall we begin?" The host talks to the actors, including the Duchess actress and the tall cook actor, whose long black hair is blocking his eyes. He seems very obedient and calm, though. "Outstanding," the host says as he orders the curtains pulled. "Let the madness begin."

Chapter 39

The pulled curtain permits the bright light pooling in. Here on the stage, all I see is an infinite source of brightness, almost blinding my eyes. It feels like each actor is entering a new world of fantasy all of a sudden. It's almost like another realm.

My eyes shut for a moment. I can't see the audience's faces with this kind of light. I merely see wavy silhouettes sitting down there. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. The stage reminds me of the Mush Room somehow. I think this is what they call stage fright.

But it actually works. The actress portraying the Duchess, wearing a silly oversized hat, plays her part well. Obnoxiously entertaining. The crowd loves her.

I start saying all kinds of nonsense, partially memorized from the book. I act freely without intimidation. The stage has a certain magic to it. It's like singing alone in the shower and letting the trickling water camouflage your horrible voice.

My inner fear spreads from something else. Something I can't explain yet. It's probably the Pillar's fear that worries me. I peek at him, standing askew near the curtain, like a detective looking for a lead to a crime that will happen in the future.

What in God's name could go wrong on the stage?

I keep on acting. People don't respond much to my sentences, as if I am not there. But I am not complaining. They are immensely entertained by the Duchess. It's also funny how I am not supposed to be acting. The scene we're portraying supposedly has happened to me in Wonderland.

Oh, my. Oh, the paradoxical madness.

Jack jumps in the scene, curls his flexible body on the cook's table, and meows the Cheshire part. Jack is hilarious, like always. I hear the audience clap. My hand itches, wanting to clap too. Jack's ease with nonsense is charming, and he seems to have the talent for acting.

Then comes the cook's part.

He is a tall, interesting guy, different than as portrayed in Alice in Wonderland. Other than being tall and having his black hair fall down and cover his eyes, he is a bit scary for such a comedic event.

Uniquely dressed, I must say.

I turn back to the Pillar to see if he has his eyes on the cook. The Pillar does stare at him. He doesn't like him at all. I look back to see what's so odd about the cook.

Then I see it.

The cook wears a double-breasted white jacket, like all cooks do. Except this one looks like a straitjacket backwards.

Chapter 4 0

I swallow hard when I see the straightjacket. Is it supposed to be an artistic touch from the costume designer? The cook was mad in Lewis' book, obsessed with pepper and having a bad temper.

But the straitjacket also implies the possibility of a man who's just escaped an asylum.

The Pillar rushes onto the stage and interferes with the scene. Since this is the most improvised chapter, it's no big deal. He nears me and talks in my ear. It's obvious he wants to tell me something about the cook. I can't hear him, and I don't know how to weave this into the act.

"And who are you, strangely dressed man?" the Duchess says obnoxiously.

"Shut up, ugly lady," the Pillar says. "I'm the doorknob. Everyone knows that."

The audience laughs and claps hysterically. It buys the Pillar time to tell me, "The Cook!"

"I know," I say. "There is something wrong about him."

"Let's see what he is up to." The Pillar points his cane. "Why is hiding his eyes with his hair?"

"He might be the Cheshire," I shriek.

"That's not the Cheshire," the Duchess says, thinking we're acting. "That's my cook. He has an obsession with pigs and pepper."

"Shut up, hag!" I say. "We're trying to solve a crime here."

Why doesn't anyone laugh at my jokes?

"Peppa!" The cook acts furious, pulling jars of pepper from under the table. "More peppa!" He starts pouring ridiculous amounts into a boiling cauldron.

I realize the boiling water in the cauldron is real. Shouldn't this endanger the actors? The cook is definitely the Cheshire. I look at the Pillar for confirmation, but he is in a haze of confusion.

Maybe we're both just paranoid.

As the cook pours the pepper, a few kid actors run into the scene and ask the Duchess for food. I know for sure this isn't part of the real script of Alice in Wonderland. But nothing has exactly followed the book so far.

"Go away, you obnoxious, filthy children!" The Duchess kicks one of kids away. The boy rolls on his stomach, aching. Those guys act brilliantly. It's so believable.

"Pigs for the children," the cook announces, and holds a baby pig in one hand. It's a real pig. "Do you want me to cook it for you, along with some spicy peppa?"

"Yes!" the children plead. "We're hungry. We haven't eaten in days."

Suddenly, I can't help but notice the children's clothes look exactly like in my vision. But it makes sense. The play portrays Victorian times, so I shouldn't be suspicious about it.

The Pillar still watches the cook closely.

Another unexpected thing happens when a woman, acting as the Queen of Hearts, bursts onto the stage. She is short and chubby and wears a joker's outfit. She holds an axe triple her size.

"Off with all your heads," she shouts. "Horrible children eating the food in my kingdom."

Even the Duchess acts horrified by the Queen.

"Pardon me, my Queen," the cook says. "Could I use the axe to chop off my pig's head? I need to cook it for the children." Then he says, in an unnecessary way, "Peppa! More peppa!"

"What is this?" the Pillar asks me. I have never seen him offended by nonsense like this before. But honestly, this is way crazier than I thought it would be. "What's going on?"

We're hardly part of the act anymore. The crowd loves every bit of this mishmash of characters.

"I can't give you my axe," the Queen of Hearts tells the cook. "But I can chop the pig's head for you." The grin on her face is deeply disturbing to me. Of course, none of the audience can see it this far.

Is the Cheshire also the Queen of Hearts?

The cook holds the pig heartlessly from its feet. The poor animal struggles with its head upside down. It sneezes painfully because of the pepper.

"Put the pig down!" I shout. This not acting anymore. What the heck is this? "This play is over. Put the poor pig down!"

Instead of backing me up, the crowd boos at me.

"Show it to me," the Queen of Hearts orders the cook. He nears the kicking pig down to here so Her Majesty's short existence can reach it.

And then...

Then...

The unbelievable happens, the sort of thing that breaks all barriers between real and unreal.

The Queen of Hearts swings her axe and chops off the pig's head.

My head processes the scene in slow motion. It's too horrifying for my mind to digest it in normal speed.

The axe chops off the pig's head, which blobs down into the hungry boiling water in the cauldron.

I have never witnessed a crowd love such a performance.

Mouth agape, I feel something hot splash at my face. I felt it once the Queen chopped off the head, but I only register it when it trickles down my chin. I rub my face with my hands and raise them in front of my eyes.

It's the pig's blood.

This stage show is happening for real.

Chapter 4 1

I am stiffened, cemented, and chained by the cruelty of what looks like normal people, be it actors or the crowd.

The Queen of Hearts grins and starts to chop off the kids' heads. The kids start to stab the Duchess. The cook doesn't hesitate to boil whatever ends up in his cauldron—pig, heads, and even the Duchess' leg, chopped off by a kid.

Still stiffened, Jack holds me tight. Whatever he says is scattered into a million pieces. I think I lost my hearing.

I am pulled away by the Pillar and Jack. They are getting me off the stage. When I try to peek back over their shoulders, the Pillar grips my head tightly between his hands. He doesn't want me to see what's going on there. The shock value might be too high for me to tolerate.

We hurry down the steps and run away. The crowd doesn't understand yet. The crowd praises and hails. They are all standing in ovation now. I wonder how they will feel when one real spatter of blood reaches them. They still think it is all acting.

As I look at them, my hearing comes back. Their sound is deafening.

"Come on," the Pillar says. "We have to go!"

Near the exit door, I try to make any sense of what just happened. Why would the Cheshire do this? Just to drive me mad? It's not holding up. Something huge is missing.

The answer comes to me faster than I thought.

The crowd suddenly stops clapping, and some of them shriek.

When I stop the Pillar from exiting and turn around, I see them all staring with trembling bodies at the stage. It's the cook they are looking at. He is standing tall on the stage. All alone now. His double-breasted jacket is almost completely red from the blood of all those he killed.

It seems like he killed everyone, bearing two glinting knives his hands. I haven't noticed before that his trousers are a black and white pattern, like a chessboard. His eyes are still covered with his wavy hair.

The cook isn't talking, but his presence is strong. I am not sure if the crowd realized what's going on yet.

Silently, the cook pulls out a few jars of pepper. Those are different from the one he used before. He sets them in order at the cauldron's edge, like a scientist meticulously preparing for an experiment.

An epidemic of sorts comes to my mind. My heart pounds to the realization that the stage massacre, with all its gore, isn't the epic finale to his work of madness yet.

The crowd's breathing is almost absent; they have finally registered the reality of what is going on.

"Pepper," the cook says. This isn't his theatrical voice from the act. It's a hoarse voice, coming from someone who doesn't speak much. Someone who has kept to himself for years, locked in an asylum, awaiting his chance to break loose. "This pepper in my hand will make you sneeze."

A few forced chuckles scatter across the crowd, stopped immediately by the rise of his hand and the pursing of his lips.

This man isn't the Cheshire. This man is pure darkness. Why is he doing this?

"This time you will sneeze differently," the cook lectures. The hollowness of his voice fills the auditorium. It's like talking to a god. There's nothing you can argue with. "Please approach, madam."

A woman in the front row is pushed by the rest of the crowd toward the cook. One sheep sacrificed for the safety of many.

The cook tells her to stop a few feet away from him. He opens his jar of pepper and pours some in the air near her.

There is a long moment of waiting before the woman sneezes.

Once.

No one is laughing this time.

Then twice.

No one utters a word.

Then she can't control it. She sneezes and sneezes until she starts shivering and collapses to the floor.

"Sneezed to death," the Pillar murmurs.

Before the crowd panics, the cook holds the jar up high. "All doors in the theatre are locked." His voice still fills the place. "Everyone here is going to die here tonight. This isn't a warning. It's a fact that the theatre's surveillance camera will witness it for the world to see."

Everyone goes silent again. Me too. Running and knocking him down crosses my mind, but he already has the jars open in his hands. All he needs is to give them a little shake and dance.

I look for Jack, but he is gone again. Maybe he was never there really. It still isn't fair.

Behind me, the Pillar holds my hand. I am perplexed. Are we really going to die? Is this the end to the whole madness? Death by pepper?

"Of course, your beloved Margaret Kent is gone." The cook points at the empty balcony upward. "People like her always get away," he says. A bitter smile curves his lips. I notice a tinge of sadness in his last words. Is this cook the Duchess' real cook from Wonderland, now used like a puppet by the Cheshire to create chaos in the world?

"Before you have to die, you need to see this." The cook kicks a few things from behind the cauldron with his foot. Something rolls down before the stage.

A watermelon.

Finally, we realize who he is. We're staring at the Muffin Man himself. The mysterious man responsible for the watermelon murders.

The Muffin Man turns his head toward me and the Pillar. "You fell for the bait, Professor Pillar," the cook says. "You and your Wonderland apprentice are going to die too. Only the Real Alice would know her way out of this."

The shock value reaches its zenith. Although he hides his eyes, the smirk on his face is made for us. Somehow, he sees us. Even the Pillar next to me feels like a fool.

"He tricked us into coming here to die?" The Pillar is as shocked as me. I never thought I'd see that day.

The crowd around us begins running aimlessly, like in a Caucus Race.

The cook, I mean the Muffin Man, puffs his pepper in the air, like a madman would spread the Black Death's disease onto the world.

Everyone sneezes around me. The effect is fast and abrupt.

One sneeze.

Two sneezes.

Three sneezes, and if you last long enough for the fourth, you're already eligible for a death certificate.

Am I really going to die? Didn't Jack promise he'd die for me? Aren't I supposed to find a way out if I am the Real Alice?

It saddens me that those who haven't died from the sneezing yet are about to die under the scrambling feet of others trying to escape. Some people try to break the locked doors, but they are made of steel and locked with digital codes from outside. I wonder if the guards know about what's happening here inside the auditorium. Is it possible they are involved in the crimes, or did the Cheshire possess each one of them?

Now, I'm left waiting for the first sneeze to hit me, wondering why I ever left the comfort of my cell in my asylum.

I admit it. There is comfort in madness.

Unexpectedly, my moistened eyes meet the Pillar's. I never thought I'd see that look on his face. He is no less shocked than I am, staring at the endless sneezing people all around us. Dying by sneeze is as humiliating as it is terrifying.

"Well." The Pillar considers his last words. "It did cross my mind that I would die of hiccupping, but sneezing?" He looks angry that he has been fooled by the Cheshire and the Muffin Man.

Suddenly, I realize I have a last wish. "Pillar." I grab him by his collar. "I need to know who Jack is before I die."

"Don't worry about your boyfriend, Alice," he says, still looking over my shoulder. "You're going to meet him in a few minutes when we die."

My hand drops like a dead thing from his collar. I'm not really sure of anything. This is another Catch-22, I guess. If I die now, I haven't been mad at all. What a way to prove one's sanity.

"We have been seduced to solve a trail of puzzles that only lead us to our own deaths," are the Pillar's last words, just before I experience my first sneeze.