Death of the Mad Hatter by Sarah Pepper

porthole, landing hard on my bottom in the Waiting Room, as I came to call it. The Waiting Room was the aphotic, round chamber between the Otherworld and Wonderland. Aside from my muddy footprints, the floor was polished, checkered tile and the walls were made of granite. Honeysuckle vines crept in from a wooden mouse door that the white rabbit had run through. A ceramic figurine of a frog guarded the door. Sewn on its tiny jacket were the initials R.E and a symbol of a spade. A table made completely of glass was in the center of the room. When I say glass table, it would more accurately be described as an ice sculpture of a mermaid holding a tray. On the tray was a small glass bottle with the words Drink Me etched on it.
    “So, M.H. created this,” I said, inspecting the bottle. On the back side of it was a crest. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it bef ore. The Mad Hatter’s initials were etched on the bottle as well.
    I drank the potion . Today it tasted like maple syrup and cotton candy. The ground came up at me like I was on an invisible roller-coaster. When my insides had settled down, I walked over to the frog which was now the same height as me (or me the same height as it?) I had shrunk to the size of small critters. I knocked on its head. The ceramic frog burped up a skeleton key made for the mouse door.
    I shoved the key through the door and crawled into the Wonderful World of Wonderland. I expected there to be a cupcake with the words Eat Me on the other side of the door, or at the very least the aggravated caterpillar with the hookah. However, the Wonderland that I walked into the first time was not a vast forest like it was before, but rather a well-manicured lawn with a gigantic mushroom house. M.H. was there dressed to the nines, flaunting a new pair of gold rimmed goggles. He held a tiny flowered dress and tea pot. The designs on the dress matched the pattern on the teapot exactly
    “ Genevine insisted that you would have the perfect camouflaging clothes for today’s events,” he said, lowering the tea pot and dress to the ground. “Get inside and change quickly.”
    “ You’re kidding me.”
    “ I have a tea time with Hearts. The queen, more than any other Wonderlander, whispers the best kept secrets. But we must hurry if those whispers are to occur. Hearts is quite unsympathetic for tardy goers, and we are to meet at high tea.”
    I climbed up the handle and peered into the spout. “What happens when someone pours hot water in here?” I asked, not loving the idea of eavesdropping via tea pot.
    “ The Queen of Hearts never drinks from someone else’s china, and she only drinks after someone else has sampled the brew. She’s quite certain that someone is out to poison her and has every right to be suspicious. My candy operation is just a cover for my… anti-antidotes.”
    “ You make poisons to kill people?”
    “ Money is in the ones that only take one sip to…” he said, and then made the movement of slitting his throat. “Ever since Eddie Edgar’s unfortunate accident , there is a market for the ones that only make you ill too, but those aren’t going to make me rich. I need one that will kill with a single drop.”
    “ Eddie Edgar? He wouldn’t by chance be brother to a Robby Edgar?” I asked, sliding to the bottom of the pot.
    Handing me the matching dress, M.H. nodded. “You catch on quick. The white rabbit chose well. You were always a top candidate since your folks live far-far away and you live with your wondrous aunts. It is of miraculous happenstance that you are the same age as Robby’s son. So, it made you quite the candidate indeed.”
    “ Robby’s son?” I said.
    “ He goes by Ryley. Although with such a strong upbringing, I thought Robby would have chosen a manlier name, less universal. The name Ryley can be both ways—boy or girl,” M.H. stopped to ponder that idea a bit further. “Maybe Robby chose the name to keep the queen from knowing too much about his