Alice Finds the Way In
Alice in a St. Louis wonderland.
Alice Finds the Way In belongs to the following groups:
Short stories - Spherical ScriptingsI’m not leaving this party, now that I know the way in.
Oh, yeah. I know it. Without turning back to look at it, I can still see the door, see how I got in here. First time I’ve seen the door from out there…anyway, I’m in now.
He is magic. He shines. Can you feel him on the backs of our necks? Oh myyy!
Anyway, so I wobbled down my landlady’s broken front steps in these amazing little shoes (do you love them?), twisting, then falling, till I hit the pavement. I looked around, but nobody saw me—the street was suddenly dark and deserted.
I stood up quickly, brushed myself off, and waved down a surly cabbie whose heavy cold brow, I swear, obscured all the streetlights, the neon lights and above, casting a shadow so deep, so far-reaching, I’m telling you he blotted out stars.
Oh well. This is the economy talking, that’s what I’m thinking. Plain and simple grouchiness. Understandable. Forgiveness every minute, right? These days? So I got in.
The thing is? The stars, and even the neon, they don’t know economy from voltage, you know what I mean? So how did he do that? Blot out stars? The cabbie, I mean…not HIM, not the Other One, shining right now back there by the door, shining out and around our shoulders.
He eminates warmth and a scent like—vanilla cake?
Don’t move. He’s coming closer, isn’t he! I LOVE this party! How come now all of a sudden I can find it? I LOVE it.)
Anyway, the sour cabbie.
I shrugged …(this is really great music, by the way; I like your chairs)...and I bolstered my courage and climbed into the back door (which he did not open, the cabbie I’m talking about) and I paid him anyway with a shiny new twenty to bring me here (it stopped being shiny the moment it dropped, limp and helpless, looking up at me morosely from inside his palm; that should have been a clue). Still, we can change our fate, right? We can.
But I was determined to get to this party. I didn’t even know if or where it existed, but…I’d heard the stories, you know? I wanted in (your caramelized brie is to die for, thank you, thank you, and your hair is so pretty), so I just got in the cab and rolled down the window and leaned back and closed my eyes and while he drove a breeze hit my face, and I thought, “Oh yeah. Parties happen out there somewhere still, and I have paid my fare, so he will find one for me, and better still, I am wearing these little black shoes with the tiny silver elephant buckles”, and I knew I could be happy.
But when he stopped for cigarettes and forgot to come back for me, I leaned my head out the window and said, “Hey?” Pushed the hair back out of my face, pursed my lips to smooth out the lipstick where the hair had made little stripes in the red and said, “Hey?”
He was talking to somebody, leaned up against a colleague’s car (do they call each other “colleagues”?), and when I said, “Hey?” and tapped my little jingly wristwatch at him (little silver dogs and drops of water, see that? With stars…would you like to wear it?)...when I said, “Hey?” something about his shoulder perked up, the way a cat does when she knows you’re talking to him. And like my cat, Arthur, he turned just a little more away from me and kept staring, out and away, smoke in his mouth and his narrowed yellow eyes, and his friend laughed, and I just about died.
Where was I? What was I doing there? I mean, my gosh.
(OH WOW, do you feel that? Is he coming this way? He’s smiling at ME? Seriously? He did that all the way here, took my hand and smiled when I got the gumption to get out of that cab, and then when he opened that door-I know where to find it now!-he ushered me in ahead of him.
Then he just let go.
I was baffled…
...but you were so gracious, rushing forward to make me feel welcome! You glanced back at him—of course you did. Isn’t he lovely? But he’d let go of my hand, so I was afraid to look back. So I just sort of walked forward without looking…know that feeling?)
Where was I? Oh yes. The cabbie, turning his back, cold-shouldered as Arthur when I leaned out and said, politely as possible, “Hey?” Jingling and pointing the wristwatch. A last ditch effort to stay in command, to be the consumer-in-charge, but to no avail.
I thought I’d die right there.
I was just so lonely.
And that. That hit the lonely spot. Oh yeah.
Everything stopped.
But then, a chink of light broke out, sort of pearly and blue-green and gold, maybe, I don’t know. It came from somewhere, it came from him, and I don’t mean the cabbie. His friend leaned over to see me, my head still stuck out the back seat window, and he smiled.
He said, “Blue Dress Girl, take your head out of that window and your pretty blue-dress self out of that car and feel what’s set beneath you in the dark. Then walk. Don’t be anybody’s Back-Seat-Abandoned-’Hey’-Girl. Step out and walk.”
(Are you feeling that heat on the back of your neck like I am? Like tiny, sparkler angels running up and down your skin in their pointy little sharp high heels. Exquisite. I don’t know what is going to happen to us, do you? No? And it’s even your party! Isn’t that remarkable! But I am NOT leaving this party. Not now that I know the way in! I’m seeing this through.)
So anyway, HE (HE!) says, “Step out and walk; feel what’s set beneath you,” and my cabbie turned then and frowned like, “Don’t you dare,” and I’m like “Hmmm,” and HE is smiling, like come-on-little-blue-dress. Come-walk-and-see. Break out of there and see if the moon doesn’t follow you.
So I did.
And he did.
And he is.
Look back.
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