Chaos in the Cards: Part 2
The path to the maze was neither straight nor particularly reliable. It seemed to keep eyes on Alys – curling when she hesitated and stretching when she walked with determination. The playing cards followed her like fluttering thoughts and the crackling paper whispered: ‘Left is right, right is wrong, wrong is right!’ – ‘Or was it the other way around?’ Soon a tall, shadow-casting hedge rose up before her, its leaves trembling in the rhythm of her own doubts. A winding archway opened like a yawning mouth in front of her.
The garden seemed almost alive; its dense overgrown walls swelled and shrank to the beat of an inaudible melody, the paths meandered indecisively, solidifying and disappearing on a whim, the corridors intertwined or scattered away from each other, escalating and collapsing, and in places covered by thick clouds and wafts of mist. Agitated murmurs emanated from the leaves, the erratic voices sounding like incomprehensible project reports, and Alys had to smile reluctantly. She took a deep breath. Above it all hung a scent of stale planning.
Suddenly, there was a rustling sound. A shadow appeared beside her, a dark figure with fluffy fur, bright eyes and an unnaturally wide grin. The creature purred steadily, tilted its head and nodded at Alys, half encouraging, half smirking. ‘Where are you going, grrrr?’ purred the cat.
‘I’m looking for the way to the Regent,’ said Alys cautiously. ‘Oh, many do. But hardly anyone looks to get away from her.’ The cat’s grin grew even wider. ‘You’re lost of course. But that’s a good thing, prrr. Only those who lose themselves can find what they weren’t looking for.’ Alys shook her head and looked over at the tangle of hedges and fog.
‘Do you know how to get through this maze – I don’t know the way!’ Alys said to the bared teeth. ‘Wrrrr,’ the tomcat said, ‘no one does, not really.’ ‘Well, that’s not very helpful,’ Alys snorted, but the cat’s grin didn’t fade. ‘You can only get through by going in. You’ll know the way once you’ve walked it – that has to be enough. Hrrrr,’ purred the cat, and before Alys could reply, the cat disappeared into thin air.
Alys thought for a moment and looked at the obstacle in front of her again. Then, quite spontaneously, she had an idea, or rather, an inspiration. She shut her eyes tightly and walked briskly towards the dense hedges. The deck of cards followed her hesitantly at first, but stayed close behind her as Alys ventured straight through the fog. Nothing stopped her. Nothing blocked her path forward.
After a while, she noticed something new: a smell that reminded her of damp leaves and lavender. She opened her eyes and saw smoky, purple wisps that did not mix with the obscuring fog of decay. The source of this ominous vapour was a small, bluish-shimmering caterpillar sitting in front of her on a rubbery mushroom, holding a moss-covered pipe in a stubby arm. The caterpillar puffed coloured wisps into the air and spoke with sleepy importance: ‘Ah… on your way to the Regent? Yes, yes… Everyone is looking for authority.‘ The pipe smoke curled into the shape of a crown and burst. ’But tell me: who are you? Do you really want to find what you are looking for? Or are you just searching so you don’t have to stand still?”
‘I want to save Wonderland,’ said Alys firmly, thinking of the words spoken at the tea party. ‘I want to dethrone the Queen and dispel the fog.’ The caterpillar sucked contentedly on its pipe. ‘Fog,’ it said slowly and deliberately, ‘hides what is real. To lift it means to make the invisible visible – and to alter the visible.’ The caterpillar smiled dignified. When it saw Alys’s uncomprehending look, it said, ‘You will find the Regent in her garden.’ With one last deep drag, it blew a smoke ring in Alys’s direction.
The ring closed around her, enveloping her in darkness.
The next moment, the darkness faded. Alys blinked. A glittering garden formed before her eyes.
It could have been beautiful, but instead of lively blooms, the place was covered in icy shards. The plants were all frozen and brittle, and a few weak creatures made of black smoke and sluggish, dripping echoes crawled through the dying bushes. The only living thing here was the large figure walking among the plants with a dull watering can in her hands, incessantly pouring more cold into the beds, which were unnecessarily enclosed by heavy stone walls. The Regent wore a crimson crown made of rigid lines, and a threadbare robe adorned with iron white and scarlet patterns. She might have looked impressive if it weren’t for the numerous holes from which thick, black decay was dripping.
The queen had pulled a veil-like hood over her head. Her face and eyes were obscured by an impenetrable mist. Blindly, she ran around her garden and did what she was used to doing: she watered the plants, trimmed branches and leaves, uprooted small plants that she ostensibly mistook for weeds, and fed the creeping decay.
‘The garden is dying!’ Alys blurted out. The Red Regent barely acknowledged her. ‘Who cares for you? Nobody,’ she said coldly.
The playing cards that had faithfully followed Alys this far trembled at these words and stacked themselves frantically behind her back. ‘Your Majesty,’ Alys tried to appease the Regent. ‘Your reality is smeared. Your garden is decaying. It is time to rethink your processes.’
The Red One pruned a crushed and frozen rose bush, causing a few frozen flowers to fall to the ground. They shattered upon the barren earth. She paid no mind to the shards and walked blindly over to the next flower bed. ‘This garden has been here longer than you have, chaotic one. I tend to it as I always have,’ she muttered, pouring more water over a pitiful orchid, which then disappeared completely under rapidly solidifying ice.
‘The garden has changed, Your Highness,’ Alys tried again, taking a few steps towards the stubborn figure. ‘It’s time for you to do the same. Look.’
Alys picked up a battered rose blossom from the ground and held it directly under the monarch’s veiled nose. However, she quickly turned away and poured more freezing water over the plants at her feet. Impatiently, Alys snatched the watering can from her and threw it aside. ‘No more routine – tradition won’t thaw this chaos!’ ‘Chaos is failure!’ cried the Red One, rearing up in front of Alys. Her stiff crown slipped on her head.
Alys took a few steps back and raised her hands appeasingly. The deck of cards rose and fluttered nervously around her head. ‘Chaos is vibrant,’ Alys replied to the other, gesturing around her. ‘The garden could be blooming magnificently – instead, it is dying. Look around you.’
The Red Regent paused and Alys continued. “The beds need to be rearranged: the flowers are growing in each other’s way. That bush over there needs a trellis to climb up, and that one –‘ she pointed to a few sad-looking flowers at her feet, ’that’s not a weed, it’s amaranth. You should nourish it, not uproot it. And those walls around the beds, they have to go; they’re hindering the growth of the wild strawberries there.”
The Regent stood motionless in the middle of her frozen garden, while Alys ran around, spurred on by the little playing cards that whirled around and whispered ideas to her. She moved flower beds, rearranged the bushes, decorated the pots and delegated the flowers. ‘Away with the blurbell!’ she cried enthusiastically, ‘it’s time for spurflower!’
The Regent stirred when she noticed the commotion of change. Very slowly and hesitantly, she removed the hood from her face and opened her eyes. ‘My rite ranunculus! The structuroses! Where are the traditionanemone?’ Half horrified, half impressed, the Crimson Queen looked around her garden, which now looked completely different.
Alys looked at the unveiled figure – and saw her own face reflected back at her. She looked at herself as if in a mirror. Alys smiled and answered herself: ‘Your buds aren’t gone. They’re just somewhere else; a little further back and a little pruned. Instead, I have created this rotating field of wildflowers.’
Somewhat stiffly, the other woman turned and looked around again. ‘But… disorder…’ she stammered helplessly. ‘Evolvement,’ replied Alys, and the playing cards nodded eagerly. ‘This way, they all come into their own, each contributing something unique.’
The Red Regent paused and looked at the lush flower beds. After a while, she murmured, ‘So charismatic. So clever. Inspiring.’ Finally, she took a deep breath and a genuine smile spread across her face. Her acceptance was so inviting and warm that it melted the rest of the ice and warmed the air pleasantly.
The cards applauded flutteringly as the Red One took off her cloak and draped it over Alys’ shoulders. As it wrapped around her, the rigid lines on the fabric dissolved, forming a colourful, dynamic pattern. The deck of cards that had faithfully followed Alys this far whirled around her head once more, then settled into the robe, filling the holes definitively. No decay was visible evermore.
Now that Alys was wearing the mended responsibility robe, she noticed a pleasant scent of tea and sweet pastries, and a deep purr reached her ears from somewhere. Wonderland approved…
(To be concluded…)