Grinning

“And what is your name?” he asked, grinning ear to ear.

“Who wants to know?” I said, not aggressively, but not fully disposed to answer, either.  One cannot be too careful.

“Well, I do,” he said.  “Isn’t that obvious?”

“I suppose it is,” I said, “but I should like to know your name first.”

Still grinning, he said, “Ah, but it is you who wishes to enter, is it not?  And it is I who may grant your wish—or not, as I see fit.  Therefore, I think it only proper that you answer my question first.”

I pondered this for a bit.  Pondering is something I do quite often, actually, and I took my time, for there was no one else seeking entry at that moment.  I stood before my interlocutor, not really looking at him, but aware he was still grinning at me.

It should have been straightforward, really.  After all, what harm does it do to offer one’s name to someone who has politely asked.  Still, one cannot be too careful—or have I already mentioned that?

My mind seemed all a-muddle, though, as if…as if…oh, I don’t know…as if it were swaddled in wool or something.  I wasn’t at all sure I should tell this grinning stranger my name, but neither could I imagine why I should not.  I mean, I had wanted for ages to attend the tea-party, but as I was paused there, pondering, I wasn’t sure any longer what the attraction had been.  The whole thing had become a great mystery, and my mind was moving slow.

“I do want to attend the party,” I said finally, still hesitant to reveal my name.  “I’ve wanted it for just the longest time.”

Grinning even more widely, the stranger said, “Then that is exactly what should come to pass.  Let me assure you, as soon as I am informed of your name, I shall gladly usher you along your way.”

“Won’t you please tell me your name first?” I pleaded.  “Then I shall at least know to whom I am giving my own.”

“Ah, well,” he said, “I suppose it would do no harm, as your friends have already arrived, and have alerted me to your coming.  You have the great and high honour to be speaking with Chessur, and I have the honour of being gatekeeper for all who would enter here.”

“My friends?” I said, scarcely noting the name I had pushed for.

“Of course,” the grinning stranger replied.  “They’re quite anxious to see you.”

“Oh, sir, you must be thinking me quite a bother, but who are these friends to whom you refer?  I’m really rather in a daze.”

“Well, the rabbit, of course,” he said.  “And the caterpillar, the chessmen, and the white knight.  They’ve all come to visit the red queen.”

Before I could answer, I was startled by a warm hand on my forehead.  “Wake up, wake up,” I heard my nanny say gently.  “You’re having a bad dream.”

Still confused, I fixed my eyes on her smiling face. 

“It’s morning,” she said.  “I asked your mother if you’d be joining her for breakfast, and she didn’t know.  Go ask Alice, she said.  And so here I am to get you ready.”

As I stumbled groggily from under my blankets, I’m sure I spied a wee dormouse skittering under my bed.  Before I could remark on it, my nanny said, “Did you take your pills last night, like a good little girl?”

“Yes,” I replied meekly.

_{© J. Bradley Burt 2021}