They ended up back in that yellow hall at Television City. Everything looked exactly the same as it did when she fell down the shaft. The key and the “drink me” bottle still sat on the little glass table. She even found Bill's fan and gloves on the floor, a little sodden but still there. This time, she tucked them into her pocket. The gate to the garden remained shut tight.
“Mom,” David called, looking up at the ceiling, “the hole we came in through is gone.”
She joined him, gazing up at the ceiling. It was whitewashed smooth, not a hole to be seen. “You're right. I don't think we could have gone back that way, even if we wanted to. It would have taken way too long to climb.”
“Besides, Mom,” David added, “what about all these people? Mr. Dawson and his kids, and the rabbit, and the mouse, and Mr. Reilly. They need help. What about Dad?”
“I don't think that's your father,” Brett explained with a sigh. “Your father may not be the best husband in the world, but he's never killed an animal. That I know of.”
“Hey Mom,” Adam called as he waved them over to the gate, “maybe we could try to get into the garden. There's someone in there. They might be able to help us.”
“It's better than nothing.” Brett grabbed the key, then handed the boys one of the mushrooms. “Take a nibble from this. Just a nibble. I don't want you overdoing it and eating yourselves so small, I can't see you.”
As soon as they began shrinking, she continued. “And from here on in, I want you to stay with me. David,” she added when he opened his mouth, “I know you're old enough to wander on your own, but we don't know where we are. I don't want anyone getting lost again.”
“Fine, Mom,” David sounded more like his father every minute. “We don't wanna lose you, either.”
“Now that we're all small enough,” Adam added as he tugged on his mother's arm when they were all the size of the grate, “can we go now? I hear music! I think there's something really big going on.”
Brett turned the key. “Let’s go. And if the Red King's there, or we see anything or anyone that could remotely hurt us, we leave and try another door.”
“Moooom!” David's tenor rose to a near-whine. “Can we just go without you talking?”
“All right, all right!” She and David pushed the gates open. “Follow me and don't touch anything. We don't know what's safe and what isn't.”
At first, the brilliant sunshine blinded her. After a few moments of blinking, she could help her gasp. The garden sprawled for miles, far larger and more elaborate than her small spread at home. Red roses and flowering cherry trees waved gently in the soft breeze. The grass under their feet was as soft as shag carpeting, and about the same shade of lime green.
“Mom,” David breathed in awe, “did we walk into Oz?”
“Yeah,” Adam added with wide eyes. “I thought the networks only ran The Wizard of Oz once a year. Are the Scarecrow the Wicked Witch around?”
“At this point,” Brett added breathily, “it wouldn't surprise me.”
That was when her gaze dropped to a clear pond filled with shiny goldfish darting around lily pads. “Good gravy Marie! Boys! Come and look at this!”
Between the hall and the pond, she traded her floral granny dress for a cobalt blue Victorian gown out of the real Alice In Wonderland. Long, tight sleeves and the ankle-length blue skirt were made of the softest taffeta that swished when she walked and trimmed with black satin ribbon. A white ruffled apron was tied around her waist, ending in layers of white bows like the icing on a wedding cake. She retained her black stockings and shiny strap shoes.
“Wow, Mom!” David grinned. “You look like a real Victorian lady from the history books.”
Brett grinned and fluffed her black curls, now piled high on her head and pulled back with the same silk ribbon. “You two look pretty good yourselves.” She gestured for them to look into the pond. “I knew my boys were the handsomest around.”
“Aw, Mom!” David made a face at his short brown jacket, bell-legged trousers, and long black silk bow tie. “I look like a little kid!” He tugged at the huge white collar. “And I can't breathe in this.”
“Yeah, Mom.” Adam fussed at the jacket. “This is kind of itchy.” His outfit was identical, only pale blue and with shorts instead of trousers.
“Well, if we're going to the Queen's croquet game, we have to look like we belong.” She gently pushed the boys along the checked path. “Come on. Hopefully, we can pass for couriers or whatever long enough to ask the Queen and King how to get out of here.”
They followed the winding paths through the garden, past some of the biggest and brightest rose bushes Brett ever saw. Most of the roses bloomed in brilliant shades of scarlet and coral, but one row that stood out was pure white. “Wonder what she does to make these grow so big?” Brett leaned over and sniffed one. “And they smell good, too. So sweet! Like candy.”
“Here, Mom.” David gently put a white rose over his mother's ear. “I'm sure the owner won't mind if I borrow one. There's tons.”
Brett picked two red ones and threaded them in her boys' jackets. “Gentlemen should have flowers in their buttonholes.”
“Thanks, Mom!” Adam sniffed at his, grinning. “They're almost as nice as yours.”
“Aw, thanks, kiddo.” Brett ruffled his hair affectionately.
David snickered as Adam flattened his wayward brown locks. “Hey Mom,” the younger boy wondered, “what happened to the others? The White Knight, and his boys, and all of them?”
Brett settled briefly on a half-rotted stump. “I wish I knew! I wonder if we should go back for them...hey!” She jumped up as a grappling hook caught itself in the top of the stump. “What's going on?”
“Ma'am?” Greg, the Diamond Guard with the dark curls and cocoa skin, poked his head out of the stump. “Glad to see you're all right.” He came out first, carrying a bucket of red paint.
“Miss Brett?” Larry the Club Guard came out next. “Thank goodness! We were sure the Red King got you.”
Brett raised an eyebrow at the paint. “Hi, fellas. We're glad you're alright, too, but what's with the paint? Queen wanted you to re-do the castle to match her roses?”
“Actually,” Greg whispered as he looked quickly to his right and left, “we're on a secret mission.”
“Remember,” Bert the Spade Guard added as he shimmied out next, “how we told you we planted the white roses by mistake, and the Queen likes red roses?”
“Uh, yeah...”
“Well,” Larry the Club Guard finished, “we're going to paint them red! She'll never know the difference!”
“Can we help?” David grabbed a paint brush and slathered red paint on the nearest white rose.
Brett made a face. “First of all, we're wearing good clothes. If you're going to help, cover up with something.”
“Here.” Larry handed Adam one of his card fronts. “I'm not using it. “ Bert did the same for David, and Greg handed Brett a diamond card.
Brett had to admit, painting roses turned out to be a lot of fun. She, Greg, and Adam painted the upper branches, while David, Bert, and Larry did the lower ones. Greg occasionally slunk around the roses to make sure no one was coming.
They were on the last bush when they heard the loud trumpet fanfare. Brett raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like the theme from The Mary Tyler Moore Show.”
“Guys, we gotta go!” Greg yelled as he grabbed the paint and threw it into the stump. “The Queen of Hearts is coming!”
“Good.” Brett handed Greg his card back. “I have a few things I want to ask her, starting with how in the hell do you get out of here?”
Adam leaned around Greg, his dark eyes wide. “Mom,” he yelled over his shoulder, “you're not going to believe this! The Queen is Mrs. Ludden!”
“What?” Brett smirked and rushed to his side. “Oh, this I have to see. The closest Betty ever got to being a queen was hosting teen beauty pageants with Allen!”
“The Queen!” Bert croaked behind her. “She's here already!”
“Awww!” Larry fussed. “We're not done yet! We still have one bush left!”
“Forget it!” Greg dropped the grappling hook down the stump after the paint. “We'll finish it later. Right now, the best thing we could do is vacate the premises.”
“Yeah,” Larry added helpfully, “and we gotta get outta here, too!”
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