Teagan's Books

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Hello, all. Today I have a triple-duty post. This is about the Thursday Doors Writing Challenge (TDWC), drawing, a short story, and whatnot!

The door images that were provided for the TDWC truly are inspiration for all sorts of creativity.  Resa McConaghy‘s fabulous door above sent my imagination down a whimsical rabbit hole for all the whatnot. 

I meant for this post to be a non-writing answer to the TDWC event. Despite my untrained (lack of) ability, Resa’s photo inspired a sketch.

Throughout my youth I wanted to be an artist. The trouble was, my skills were never more than mediocre at best.  Worse, I haven’t drawn much of anything in decades!  But as someone said, “We’re all mad here.”  I was feeling so whimsical that I’m posting my silliness above. 

Then, the story popped into my head.  I shared my silly drawing anyway.  So, there are words after all.  You almost had me singing Karaoke of White Rabbit!  Thank goodness for stories.

By now you’ve probably figured out where my imagination headed, so there’s no point in trying to be mysterious. Here’s a soundtrack for my story.

In this article, Grace Slick, who wrote the above song, tells about the meaning, and other background information. Click here.  Ms. Slick’s explanation plays a part in my story.  You’ll also see that I borrowed a few quotes from Lewis Carroll’s novel.  

Oh dear! Oh dear! Let’s not be too late! It’s time we got on with the story.

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The Rabbit Hole

Outdated linoleum floor tiles were polished to a mirror sheen.  Liddie’s white-and-red high-top “Jays” squawked against the floor when she turned.

The voice she abhorred called her name.  Something buried deep within that woman’s voice made the girl’s blood run cold.

Or maybe it’s just that fire engine red hair and equally red lipstick, Liddie thought, repulsed.  It makes her fingertips look like they’re dipped in blood.

“Liddie, stop,” Dr. Heart commanded in the regal tone that was typical of her.  “Nurse Wocken tells me that you haven’t been taking your meds.”

“Nurse Wocken jabbers too much,” Liddie muttered.  “Dr. Heart, my head is clearer and my memory is better without those meds.  It’s just plain bull—” she paused as Dr. Heart’s eyebrows shot up in the expectation of forbidden profanity, or words even that came close.  “It’s nonsense for me to take those pills.  They make me worse, not better.”

“You may call it nonsense if you like, but I’ve heard nonsense, compared with which that would be as sensible as a dictionary!” Dr. Heart declared.

Wha… Liddie’s mouth started to form the word “what” but she knew it was pointless to say anything at all.

It was amazing to Liddie that Dr. Heart had gotten the chief administrator job at the psychiatric hospital.  She wondered why the doctor’s aspirations weren’t higher.

She talks like she’s the queen or something, the girl thought.

Trying not to smirk, Liddie turned her head.  She had also secretly been drinking a special “detox” tea every morning and night.  One of the orderlies had been smuggling it to her.

“Dr. Heart!” a male voice called from the other end of the hallway.  “You’re needed in admittance.”

Heart looked Liddie up and down.  With a derisive snort she stalked away.  The doctor went through the security point that would allow her to access the elevators.

When the door closed, Liddie called out to the orderly who had just gotten the doctor out of her hair.  She was pretty sure there was no urgent call for Dr. Heart.

“Thanks, Loco!” she told him, and he tipped a UPS driver cap to her and winked.  “And thanks for that tea.  I don’t remember yet, but at least I’m not as fuzzy-headed.”

I’m not sure which Loco loves more — wearing hats or “borrowing” them.  Maybe it’s because his name is Hatley… Liddie thought.  Yesterday it was Dr. Coney’s Panama hat, and last week he had a chef’s toque that he somehow snitched from a restaurant.  No doubt there’s a delivery guy wondering where his cap is right now.

When she got back to her room, Liddie found her roommate waiting for her.

“There you are, Kitty!  Thank God.  I’ve been looking everywhere for you.  Honestly, it’s as if you become invisible sometimes.  Kitty, she’s calling me.  I have to go.  Can you help me sneak out?” Liddie begged the closest friend she had made in that stifling place.

Well, I guess Loco Hatley is my friend too, Liddie thought.  But he’s so weird, it’s hard to talk to him.  He acts crazier than any of us patients.  But he’s taking a risk trying to help me get my memory back and sneaking in that tea.

“Who, Liddie?  Oh, do you mean the woman you hear in your head?  Hey, I’m all in,” Kitty agreed with a dazzling grin.  “Where will you go?”

“I don’t much care…” Liddie said dreamily.  “So long as I get somewhere.  But I don’t want to be with crazy people.  These doctors have held me here way too long.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” Kitty asked, surprising Liddie, who blushed scarlet and stammered.  “Ha!  You’re cute when you get embarrassed.  The boys must love to tease you.  I’m just messing with you.  Besides…” Kitty added, her tone becoming furtive.  “We’re all mad here.”

Kitty’s keen ears detected someone approaching from the hall.  Kitty tossed her head, annoyed.  It caused her long ponytail to slash the air.

“Sush, Liddie!  Here comes Nurse Wocken with the nightly pills,” Kitty cautioned a moment before the door to the young women’s shared room creaked open.

Liddie upended the tiny white paper cup of pills into her mouth, and then gulped.  Nurse Wocken checked her mouth to make sure she had swallowed them.

“I don’t know why you bother,” she told the nurse.  “These pills don’t do anything at all.  It’s the morning ones that I hate.”

Nurse Woken then turned to make sure Kitty had also taken her pills.  After a too through check, the nurse wished them a good night and went on with her bedtime rounds.

“But really, Liddie, maybe you should discuss this with Dr. Coney.  I think he knows more than he lets on,” Kitty went back to their conversation and suggested in a mysterious tone.

“I agree, Kitty.  That’s why I’m going to follow him!”

Liddie produced a flyer about a place called The Rabbit Hole.  The name of the place was written in that fat, squishy lettering that was used in the late 1960s and the 70s.

“Loco told me he picked this up in Dr. Coney’s office.  It’s some kind of club, I guess.  The ad’s pretty vague, isn’t it?” Liddie remarked.  “It’s on Tweedle Street.”

“Is it dum or dee?” Kitty asked with a snort, but seeing the blank expression on Liddie’s face, the other girl shrugged and continued.  “Albus Coney will be back from his dinner break soon.  It’s his turn to work the nightshift.”

Liddie’s shoulders slumped.  If Coney was working, then her idea was already ruined.  However, Kitty grinned broadly, white teeth sparkling.

“Cheer up, Liddie!  Loco told me that Albus Coney sneaks out every time he has the nightshift.  He always goes to that club,” Kitty explained.  “You think that if you go there, you’ll find out how you can get home, don’t you?  That somehow or somewhere in that place you’ll find the answer?  To the things you can’t remember, right?”

“Kitty, I don’t know…  But ever since I saw that weird photo of the door that was painted with the picture of smoking woman with a blue face, it’s like she’s in my head.  She knows what I need to do to get my memories back — I’m sure of it.  I know I have to go there,” Liddie said, her voice almost a wail.

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A short while later, the two girls stole quietly down the hallways.  Kitty led the way, her ponytail swinging wildly as she trotted to the fire exit, which Loco Hatley had propped open for them.

They hurried down several flights of stairs to reach the ground floor.  Through another door that was half-open to the night, the red light of an exit sign glowed.  The girls slowed enough to look at each other with smiles of anticipation and encouragement.

Then a tall man stepped into their way.  Liddie stifled a scream.

“What the—” Kitty hissed, but stopped in midsentence.  “Loco Hatley, is that you?”

Liddie peeped around from behind her best friend.  She knew the shadowy figure she had glimpsed was much too tall to be Loco.  To her astonishment, the man doffed a large top hat and bowed theatrically.

“Where in the world did you find that hat?” Kitty demanded, but laughed.

“Would you like an adventure now?  Or shall we have tea first? There’s plenty in this thermos,” Loco asked, standing between the girls and the fire exit.  “Actually, I know old Jabbering Wockey made the rounds with your meds.  You’d better have some of this.  It’ll help clear your heads.”

“Are you coming with us, Loco?” Liddie wanted to know.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, spinning the top shat, and then plopping it down on his head of unruly hair.

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The three of them ran down the alley to reach the front of the facility.  Dr. Albus Coney had just exited the front door.

“Are you sure that’s him?” Liddie asked.

The man paused to check his watch as he walked out the door.  Then a dozen steps later, he checked the time again, muttering that he was going to be late.

“Yep, that’s him,” Loco said quietly.  “He’s obsessed with the time and with being punctual,” he added in perfect imitation of the doctor.

“That must be one real important date,” Kitty said wryly.

“You saw the woman in the picture,” began Loco.  “She’s smokin’ hot!  And I don’t just mean whatever it is she’s smoking.  For once I agree with Coney about not being late.”

The three tried to be stealthy as they followed Dr. Coney.  Although it wouldn’t have mattered.  He was in such a hurry that he wouldn’t have noticed.  However, his posture relaxed when he reached the streetcorner and turned.

Rushing to keep the doctor in sight, they skidded around the corner.  A neon sign blared in the dark.  Blinking at the harsh light, Liddie read the fanciful, squishy lettering of the sign.

“The Rabbit Hole,” she said.

Liddie, however, held to her purpose.  She went straight to the woman called Illí.  As she got closer, the girl was certain it was the woman from the picture that was painted on the door.

Illí reclined on a sofa, blowing smoke rings toward the high ceiling.  She wore a grass-green maxi dress whose soft fabric draped around her legs.  In the strange lights, Liddie thought it actually did make her look like a caterpillar.

“Who are you?” Illí asked in a voice that suggested her mind was faraway.

“I hardly know.  At least I know who I was when I got up this morning,” Liddie began feeling intimidated by the strange, surreal atmosphere of the club.

“Oh dear, everything is so confusing,” Liddie added as her eyes repeatedly swept the large room.

“It is not,” Illí disagreed.

“Well, it is to me,” Liddie murmured.

“Why?” Illí asked, puffing on the hookah.

“Well, I can’t remember things like I used to, and…”

“You,” Illí said, “are a terribly real thing — in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.”

Disinclined to say more, Illí pointed to a pair of curtains.  Liddie parted the velvet draperies and stepped into that room.  From the ceiling hung a large sphere covered with numerous mirror pieces.  On the floor, a multicolored spotlight was aimed up at the mirror ball.  As the ball rotated, lights of every color flashed all around the room.

The reflected light struck a large standing mirror.  It was wide, and taller than Liddie, about the size of a door.  At first, she saw her reflection, but when the colored lights hit the mirror, her reflection faded.

She beheld a pastoral scene.  A girl in a strangely old-fashioned dress moved in a distressed, frantic manner.

“Where are you?” she yelled.  “Alice Liddell!  Come out this instant!”

“Is she my sister?  Yes, I remember a sister… I think I’m Alice,” Liddie murmured, her memory beginning to return.

Liddie put her hand on the surface of the looking glass.  It felt cool to the touch, and of course, solid.  After a moment, she felt a warm breeze brush against her fingers.

She drew back her hand with a gasp.  Liddie gave a startled yelp when her friends spoke from behind her.

“Go ahead, Liddie.  Step through the looking glass,” Kitty encouraged with a grin.

“What?  That’s crazy.  You’re crazy!” Liddie exclaimed.

“I am not crazy,” Kitty replied matter-of-factly.  “My reality is just different from yours.  Isn’t that right, Loco?”

“Liddie, is that all that’s bothering you?  A little craziness?  Pshaw!” Loco remarked.  “Madness is the key to unlocking your true potential.”

“Look, Liddie, you wanted to get your memories back.  That’s where they are,” Kitty told her, ponytail swinging as she stepped forward.  “Go ahead.  There’s your sister.  I can see that you’ve remembered that much.”

“Madness is not a destination but a journey worth taking,” Loco said and Kitty nodded with an encouraging smile.

Liddie turned and hugged Loco so hard that his top hat fell off.  Then she hugged Kitty whose murmured words had the vibration of a purr.

Taking a deep breath… Liddie stepped through the looking glass.

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The end.

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Obligatory shameless self-promotion

Of course, here’s the obligatory shameless self-promotion.  You may have noticed that for the previous four weeks, my weekend post included a short story called Path of Lilies.  If you missed part or all of it, you can read it all in one go through this e-book. You’re bound to notice details you missed when reading in weekly installments.

Path of Lilies

Universal Purchase Link:

E-book/Kindle only:  relinks.me/B0D3D1XFVZ

Each story stands alone, but there is another story in the series, which was a collaboration with Dan Antion last year.

The Inyan Beacon

Universal Purchase Link:

E-book/Kindle only:  relinks.me/B0C3Z7G2C6

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Thursday Doors is a weekly feature allowing door lovers to come together to admire and share their favorite door photos from around the world. It’s hosted by Dan Antion.  Feel free to join in on the fun by creating your own Thursday Doors post each week and then sharing your link in the comments below, anytime between 12:01 am Thursday morning and Saturday noon (North American eastern time).

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Copyright © 2024 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

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