“I’d like to buy a vowel please?”
But collage he did anyway — despite of or perhaps even because of the rising Boos danger. They started conglomerating in the center of the critter laden place, coming together to make an ultimate decision. Should he stay or should he go. Holey Kolya listened and watched from the side, not quite grasping what was happening. But he knew they were talking about him. And someone called The Wizard.
Grown up Alysha begins. “I have so many papers to grade,” she speaks into the microphone after teleporting in from Darkewood. “And I’m soo sleepy.”
“The rain gets in (his head),” said Hidi just afterwards, lowering herself a bit from Alysha’s position in order to speak directly from her heart. “But I love him.”
She turned to Kolya with this. “In his *dreams*.”
Front and center Lemon and his less positive bud Lime were next. This was the crux of the matter, one up and down and the other side to side. How to coordinate (worlds)?
“Here,” Lime said. “Let me at least get this out of your back while I’m hugging you.” But like with the King Arthur legend the knife stayed put. For now.
He was on a tightrope above the city, higher than ever. If he fell this time he may never make it, Yellow Family below absorbed by Black Mouse by this point up in space. Sacrifice. A menace revealed. To the left: death. To the right: death. Only center is safe, and that’s a narrow line indeed to navigate.
All Hidi can think to do to help is jump into the next section, the next book. Alice in Wonderland is done and over with. Time to head through the Looking Glass.
“Don’t worry,” he says below, waiting for her. “I’ll catch you.”
“Whooo … are … you?”
“Well, I’m *not* Alice if that’s what you’re thinking. I mean, we kind of look the same I guess — and since I’m *here*, in Wonderland…”
“*Whooo* … are … you?” he repeated from his mushroom, exactly three inches tall to perhaps Alice’s two now. Kolya would be a *real* big boy to her in her current size. “I’m just a girl, another girl — but not Alice, like I already said, already stated.”
“Wendy,” she decided to interrupt him instead of visa versa. “Like the hamburger girl. You know, ‘Where’s the beef?’ That’s (a franchise catchphrase) from the 70’s.” She looked up at the caterpillar, trying to gauge his age. Impossible, she decided, in this land full of paradoxes and riddles. Could be one day. Or one century.
“Whaat … are … you?” He was satisfied with the Whooo part for now. Time to change the question. “Whyyy” could be next, maybe even “howww” to cover all the bases. He takes another inhale from his hookah pipe, ready to emit new (smoke) letters.
“What am I?” she said, half to him and half to herself. She hadn’t thought of it before (!). “I am a…” Witch? she pondered saying next. Mermaid? Or just a clever girl playing hide and seek with damaged goods. “Just a girl. With a schweet secret smile,” she decided to tack on.
“Shooow … me.”
“Beckett?” she wondered.
“No. The sim. Missing Beckett.”
“Muse is a key word here,” she mused aloud later, perhaps for me but also others listening in, the prescient, the psychic. Like our damaged friend Kolya. There he is. Listening in.
“Hi big boy. I’m over here now.”