The White Queen

“I’m the Hatter. No need to call me sir. We are to be very close, you and I.” The curls at his temples as messy as the blunt ends of his hair at the nape of his neck, my latest visitor posed so I might take him in. Again, he gave a full lipped smile. “As I was saying, little dear, the Red Queen that makes you cry and wet the bed. Do not, under any circumstances, let her touch you. She wants you for herself.”

I took another sip, unexpectedly warm and about ready to nod off right before the lanky, strange man. “The man who laughs? Does he want to wear me like a hat?”

“No.” There was an extended, disheartening pause. “That is not what he wants.”

“The boys?”

My visitor smirked. “Want to play.”

The whine in my voice made the complaint pathetic. “Sir, I don’t want to play. I am so tired... all I want is sleep.”

He reached over the little table and traced my pinky again, following the line of bone from knuckle to nail. He marveled at it. “I can give you that.”

“Really? You’ll let me sleep. No laughing? You won’t take my covers, or walk around the bed hissing at me?”

Unfolding like a cricket ready to spring, the man grew tall. “I’ll just stand here and watch.”

I scrambled out of the chair so quickly it fell over. Up in the bed, the covers tugged to my chin, the grinning monstrosity leaned over me. Yellow eyes unblinking, he looked over the shape of my body under the quilt. “Shall I pat your head, child?”

“Mama gets vexed when I muss my hair.”

The man did not seem at all pleased with my answer. “Are you sure?” He held his hand up, the long, knobby fingers hovering over the top of my head. “All little girls like to be tucked in.”

Shrinking into the mattress, I shook my head.

To my ultimate relief he withdrew his hand and did exactly what he’d said he’d do. He stood at the side of my bed and stared down. My eyelids slipped closed, my breath changed, and for the first night in ages, I found sleep.

Chapter 3

“Look, sir.” Mouth open so my playmate might see what all the fuss was about, I used my tongue to wiggle a very loose tooth. “When it falls out, the tooth fairy will visit, and I’ll get a penny under my pillow. The new maid who builds the fires told me so this morning.”

Eyes narrowed so that the yellow glow of my friend’s stare was dimmed, he craned his neck forward and peered into my mouth. “I don’t see anything.”

“What do you mean?” I wiggled the tooth more frantically with my tongue, proud. “It’s going to fall out any moment.”

“What is?”

In a pique, I pointed to my tooth. “This!”

Long fingers released his tea cup and reached over our shared table. Just before reaching my lips, he hesitated. It was not until I opened my mouth wider in invitation that the pad of his pointer depressed my tongue. He grinned, positively gleeful, running a touch that tasted of dust over every last one of my teeth.

I wanted to spit him out, anything to get that awful taste from my mouth, but even more, I wanted him to find the tooth and share my joy.

At last, his probe behind my lips found the loose tooth. After a quick pinch, he yanked.

The immediate taste of blood overpowered the flavor of moldy dirt. He had stolen my tooth, right out of my skull!

Already in a state of tears, eyes wet from his betrayal, I cried, “It’s mine! The tooth fairy won’t come if you don’t give it back to me!”

He was holding it up to the sliver of street light that penetrated the curtains, inspecting my tooth like a diamond. Ignoring my protests and weeping, he hummed. “There is no tooth fairy for you. Which one of them do you think would make way for your pathetic apparition? The boys would tear her wings off. The Red Queen would rip out her guts. The laughing man... you don’t want to know what he’d do to her.”

I had not cared about the penny that should have been left under my pillow, all that my little mind had clung to was that a fairy would come to my room. Fairies were good, she’d let me sleep, keep me safe for one whole night from the others.

From the glint in the Hatter’s eyes, I could see he knew my thoughts and was offended deeply by them. “I will give you the two pennies in my pocket for the tooth.”

He’d imprisoned my tooth in a tight fist, his other hand delving into his waistcoat.

“No.”