Read Online After Alice by Gregory Maguire - Free Book Online Page B

her clot of spectres, I imagine. Lose your way?”
    She turned and discovered a lopsided crescent moon hanging above and to one side of the glass tabletop. “Did you speak?” she asked it. “You, moon?”
    The moon distorted itself to answer. “You were expecting a Pantagruel come through for his cup of ocean? The instructions tell you: Don’t look up.”
    â€œI was always taught to look a person in the eye when addressing them. Though it’s difficult to do now. Your eyes are invisible.”
    The moon-­mouth said, “I’m feeling hungry, but harpy or mouse, you are extremely odd-­looking. I hope you don’t taste untoward.”
    â€œI am no mouse. I am a little girl.”
    â€œYou are either a very little girl or an indecisive Fate or an argumentative and dissembling mouse.” The sliver-­moon began to seem more like a cat’s mouth. Ada was glad the rest of the cat wasn’t present, as a cat that size would scarcely leave room for her.
    â€œDo you know how to get into the garden?” she asked, to change the subject.
    â€œThrough the door, of course. When it’s ajar.”
    A guttural hiss or a purr, Ada couldn’t decide which, rumbled from behind the smiling moon-­mouth. Then a tongue emerged from between pin-­teeth. It angled to lick some invisible part of the implied cat. When Ada realized that the cat was probably bathing its particulars, she was glad the body was absent. Gigantic feline organs of any variety weren’t included in the list of classic panoramas she might hope to glimpse before she died.
    She thought it would be polite to divert attention from the practice of hygiene. “The garden beyond that door is circling itself somehow.”
    â€œNo it isn’t,” said the cat-­mouth. “It’s the keyhole that’s rotating.”
    Ada looked again. Sure enough, the keyhole was moving in a clockwise direction, one complete rotation to the minute. “I met a gardener who had a key. But he’s already inside. Is there another key?” she asked.
    â€œThere may be, or may not be, but either way it means nothing to me. This is my day, after all, not yours. I have no interest in attending a garden party.”
    â€œI should think we share the day equally,” ventured Ada.
    â€œImpossible,” came the reply. “I’m much larger than you are. So we can’t share anything equally. Grow up a little and you’ll see what I mean.”
    â€œI would like to know what the tag on the teacup says. Since you are much more lofty than I, you could read it and tell me.”
    One orange cat-­eye appeared, and squinted at the tabletop. “It says: DRINK ME .”
    â€œI find that hard to believe.”
    A bit more of the cat appeared, nearly its whole face, including a pair of twitching ears. A mask floating against walnut wainscoting. “I could carry you in my mouth and deposit you on the tabletop if you like, and you could see for yourself if I’m lying.” The smile now looked like a leer.
    Ada was afraid if she walked into the cat’s mouth she might fall out the other side. What would Miss Armstrong say? “I’d better not,” she said. “I know a little bit about the damned crowding into Charon’s boat, but I don’t know much about ghosts, including ghost cats. There might be some contagion, and I don’t think I’m ready to be a ghost.”
    â€œNo time like the present. Can’t I interest you in a little bite?” The mouth loomed. “I think you are wearing a tag that says EAT ME , but you have hidden it in your clothes. That’s why mice shouldn’t wear clothes.”
    Ada said, “I have only one life. I need to take care of it.”
    â€œVery well said. Off and away with the fairies, indeed. That was a smart move.” Ada couldn’t tell if the spectral cat was mocking her. It continued.