Death of the Mad Hatter Read Online Free PDF Page B

caterpillar lit the hookah and took a drag. A blueberry aroma accompanied the smoke that Ester blew out his nose. “M.H. Has never told a soul his name. So we call the Madman the Hatter.”
    “I will , and have always preferred to, go by M.H. instead of indulging in the silly nickname given to me by the critters of this realm. Mad Hatter, can you believe it? Silly name,” M. H. said, but then pressed his finger to his lip. After a moment of pondering, he licked his finger and made a face like the colorful substance lining his fingers wasn’t to his liking. “I do suppose that nicknames hold the utmost significance, at times. Or is it the time that makes the nicknames significant?”
    “When would nicknames ever hold any value?” I asked.
    “When they are given appropriately!” M.H. placed his hands on his knees so that we were eye level. “My name is nothing of importance to you. Still, your name is one that may matter, but we’ll get to that in due time. Would you like some candy?” He held up his littlest finger to me like I was to lick it.
    I gently pushed his hand away. “My parents told me never to take candy from strangers.”
    “Well, they are quite smart! It’s a shame the Maude sisters stole you away from them.”
    “They didn’t. They told me I was a t roublemaker and needed proper watching over,” I said, mimicking Vida Maude.
    “I suppose it doesn’t matter why you came to be in their possession. But a more significant point is that you are in fact a trouble maker, or at least I hope you are. And you will not be eating candy, my dear girl,” he said, and wrapped his hand around the finger he offered me to lick. With a quick jerk, the finger came off. I wanted to scream when he handed it to me, but I kept my emotions under control. “It’s a caramel shell, my dear girl. One lick and you won’t feel like asking so many questions; a defense tactic of sorts.”
    I didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I took his word. “Then why make candy if you aren’t to enjoy them?”
    “ I make candy because I have a bit of a sweet tooth, but sometimes others need them for unconventional reasons. I can show you if you want.”
    I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I knew I didn’t want to spend any more time with a bug that called me stupid. I handed him back his caramel finger, which he tucked in his coat pocket.
    “Who needs camouflage d caramel?” I asked.
    “A dear friend of mine—Robby. He needs all the help he can get, which weighs heavily on my candy making abilities,” M.H. said and looked at a pocket watch. The numbers were written backwards. The second hand turned clockwise, but the hour hand ticked counterclockwise. “We’re going to miss our flight if we don’t get a move on.”
    “Are you trying to turn back time?” I asked, ignoring his comment about flying.
    M.H. gave me a hard look before sliding on his goggles. His kind, brown eyes shimmered like the ocean when the sun shone upon it. “It is not the reversal of time I strive for, my dear girl. It is to prevent it from moving completely; an impossible feat that is yet to occur.”
    “ If it’s impossible, then why try?”
    “Because then the Reign of Terror shall end,” M.H. chuckled and exchanged a knowing look with the caterpillar who had been munching more leaves for his hookah. “A world where the impossibilities of our most far-fetched dreams come true—that is the essence of Wonderland.” 
    Looking around the upside-down realm, I certainly agreed that things were possible in this world that were not in mine.
    “I promise you that you’ll never have more exciting adventures than the ones you’ll have in Wonderland. It is my greatest hope that you fall in love with this place and the people who live here,” he said, and offered me his hand. “Come and see for yourself. I’ll give you the bird’s eye view of Wonderland before I show you my candy shoppe.”
     
    M.H. wiggled his