It worked beautifully. The group barely walked a minute before they came across a lovely and familiar red-headed woman running up a green hill. “Fannie,” Brett muttered, “dressed as a chess piece?”
“Richard! Sir Dawson!” Oh, it was Fannie Flagg, all right. That breathy Alabama accent was unmistakable. So were the short ginger hair and heaving cleavage barely held back by a tight scarlet sequined chess board t-shirt. Her considerable “upper frontals” were such a joke on the show, she and Charles frequently referred to women's chests as “Fannie Flaggs.” “Sir Dawson,” she demanded, “where do you come from, and where are you going?”
He bowed for her, his plumed helmet sweeping the grass. “We come from Wonderland, Your Majesty. My sons and I must return to the White Castle. Master Orson and his friends seek Charles the Hatter, who is lost in Limbo.”
“And my boys and I just want out of here.” She made a face when she noticed David staring at Fannie's bosoms and pulled Fannie's skimpy shirt more over them. “Let's just say we're not from the Under Kingdoms, or whatever you called 'em.”
“My brother and mom and I are sort of lost, Miss Flagg,” David added. “I mean,” he went on quickly when Fannie gave him the strangest look, “Your Majesty. We need to find our way home.”
“Sorry, kiddies,” Fannie huffed. “All ways here are mine and my guardian the Red King's ways. However...”
She poked around her in a circle, looking in her eyes and down her back. “Patsy, what are you doing?” Brett stepped away when she tried peering in her less-ample bosom. “Stop circling me! You're making me dizzy.” She made a face. “If this is your idea of asking me for a date...”
“You know,” Fannie interrupted, “lady with no bosom, the best way for you to find your way home would be to become queen.”
“Me?” Brett grinned widely. “You want me to be a queen?”
David’s smirk echoed hers. “Does that make Adam and me princes?”
Sir Richard nodded. “If Brett plays the game, she'll become queen, and will have the power to revoke all of the Red King's rules...and that will end his hold on Looking Glass Land.”
Fannie pointed in the direction of the hill slope. “White King Gene's daughter Princess Lynne doesn't want to play the game. She'd rather work as an artist in the city. That leaves an opening for you.”
“What about the rest of us?” Marcia grumbled. “Does that make us pawns?”
“At first.” Fannie gave Brett another look. “What's with the look on your face? What, do I have two heads? And don't play with your fingers. If you're gonna be a queen, you should act like one.”
Brett snorted. “The way the queens act around here? I'm sorry, but you look like someone you know.”
“Why don't we get going?” Sir Richard gathered his helmet. “I left my horses at Heart Palace, so I'm afraid we'll have to walk for now.”
Fannie grabbed Brett's hand. “Why walk when you can run? Come on, darlin', it'll be good for you!”
“But Fannie,” Brett protested loudly, “I hate...”
Fannie took off like a shot before she had the time to even complain a little! “Fannie, whoa!” she yelped. “Whoooa! Fannie, I hate working up a sweat. The only time you'll see me running is if I'm being chased by a bear! Fannie...”
“No time!” Fannie called back, not winded at all. “We have to get going!”
That was when she noticed nothing was moving but their feet, including the scenery. “Um, Fannie,” Brett puffed, “we're racing like crazy, but we're not going anywhere!”
“What? You wanted to go somewhere?” Fannie suddenly let her go and gave her a faintly amused look. “This is Looking Glass Land. If you want to get somewhere fast, you walk.”
“And we're already half-way there.” Marcia waved them to the edge of the hill. “Are you guys coming, or what?”
“Mom!” Adam yelled over his shoulder, “you have to see this! This is so weird!”
“Oh wow.” Her eyes widened as she finally puffed over to them. “So that's...what the Red King...means about...playing the game. His whole world...is one big game!”
Everyone gazed quietly over the valley, which was laid out into squares of darker and lighter green. Little ribbons of blue brooks, pale green hedges, and dusty yellow roads bordered the squares. Squinting revealed a stone wall along a square near the center of the board. Gleaming white walls and graceful snowy white peaked roofs poked up over the trees on the fifth square, while the jagged scarlet spires of a Gothic castle dominated the last square.
“Before we get moving,” Brett puffed as she fanned herself, “could we have something to drink? I'm dying here!”
“Sure!” Fannie pulled a bag of cookies out of her slacks pocket and handed them around. “Here ya go. This should help.”
“But Miss Flagg...er, Your Majesty...” David started. His mother nudged him and stuffed the shortbread cookie in her mouth. It was bland, dry as a bone, and did nothing to end her thirst.
Richard leaned between them. “We'll get a real drink at the river. You can't ask for water in Looking Glass Land. They'll give you the opposite of what you asked for. It's how this world works.”
“Ya'll not thirsty anymore?” Fannie didn't give them time to reply. “All right, then. Let me set you up to play.” She pushed six pegs into the ground. “Now, ya got one peg for each of ya. The kids stay with their parents. Don't want anyone getting lost when it isn't their move. I suspect the mouse will probably wanna stay with his buddy, since it looks like he's fallin' asleep standin' up.”
“Huh?” The Doormouse blinked his eyes. “Where are we? Oh, yeah. I'll, uh, stay with Orson and Jimmie.”
“Now,” she went on as she placed the last peg, “I'm repeatin' my directions, so none of you forget them. That includes you, Sir Richard. At the end of four yards, I'm gonna say good-bye. At the end of five, I'm goin' back to Red Castle, before my guardian misses me. He won't be too happy that I'm helpin' you. I'm sorry,” she added to Marcia when she opened her mouth, “did ya say somethin', hon?”
“Uh, no.” Marcia wrinkled her nose in that pickled look of disgust that only she could pull off. “Not that I could get a word in edgewise, anyway!”
“You should have told me how it's nice I'm explainin' all this. I could have let ya wander around forever out there, and I'm not supposed to be talkin' to Sir Richard. The Red King ain't too big on how he's always in the way of his plans.”
She stepped slowly away from the pegs. “All right. Pawns go two squares on their first moves. You're gonna need to go fast through the third square – by train, I think – and then you'll be in the fourth square. You'll have to calm down Tweedle Dee n' Tweedle Dum. They're scared by anythin'. The fifth square is the White Castle. You'll need to get across the moat. Humpty Dumpty's in charge of the sixth, n' Sir Richard knows his way around the seventh. When you get to the eighth square, you'll be queen, and we'll have the biggest party ever!”
Brett made a face. “Can we go straight to the party?”
“Sorry,” Fannie muttered, “all complaints must be submitted in writin'.” She turned to Brett. “Curtsy for a queen while you're complainin'. It saves time. And if you can't think of the English for the thing, do it in French.” She got even closer while Brett attempted a curtsy and the others curtsied or bowed. “All right, folks,” she moved back to the fourth peg, “I'm sayin' good-bye.”
No sooner did she move to the last peg, then she was gone. “Wow!” Jimmie flapped and looked around. “She's one fast cat! I didn't even see her leave!”
“Well, the way she runs, it's not surprising.” Brett turned to the others. “I think it's time to make our move.”
They jumped two small brooks and followed Richard across the countryside. Here, the air was fresh and sweet, and the valley was green and pleasant. Flowers scraping the searing blue sky were tended by gray and yellow elephants with wings like bees who sucked honey through their trunks. Smaller groves of dates and oranges perfumed the air with their sharply sweet scent.
“Sir Dawson,” Marcia called from the back, “when are we going to get to the third square?” She fanned herself with one hand and picked up the hem of her black dress with the other. “It's hot and humid, and we've been walking forever. Didn't Queen Fannie mention a train or something that would take us to the fourth square?”
“Yeah, Mr. Dawson.” David grumbled as he tugged hard on his tight collar. “I'm getting tired of walking.”
The words barely left his mouth before they heard the tooting of a train just beyond the towering flowers. “I think you're right.” Richard started back towards the woods. “Come on. Remember, in order to find the train, you have to walk away from it.”
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