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It had been an untracked amount of days since the funeral. But, the inside of the hat shop looked as if it had been devoured by the ravenous, neglectful clutches of at least a century. Every cup escaped from the cupboards; free to roam throughout the living areas. Some upright and well with soured tea in their ceramic bellies. Others long tipped over; their contents stained on the precious wood floors.
Amongst a mountain of scrap fabrics and ribbons that had found themselves a bed, Evelyn laid motionless. An outsider may as well have assumed he was a corpse, save for the occasional twitch or blink of his eyes. He had gotten into a routine of sorts. One not of productivity or passion. But, simply enough to keep himself alive. Nothing more, nothing less; as the weight of his loss was too horrid to do much more than that.
He would get up from his makeshift bed on the couch. Some fabrics and ribbons would fall to his feet - cursed to stay where they landed indefinitely. Then he would drag his feet to the pantry where he would proceed to stare blankly at the dwindling supply of food; he used to put the water on for tea, but no longer had the cups to do so. Eventually, he would pick out whatever was least stale and peck a few nibbles at it. Then would put it away and lay back down in his bed to stare and mumble nonsense to himself.
And, as it was, he was at the end of this routine. With his eyes planted on the ceiling - surely with nonsense getting brewed up in his skull. Evelyn sighed and took a rare moment to roll on his side to get a look at his front door.
A few times since the funeral, people had knocked to no avail. Time came first, but realized Evelyn needed quite much more of him. So, he had wandered off to gather more of himself long before Evelyn could even think to get off the couch. Rayburn had knocked a few times, but always had somewhere to be quite soon after (With the new job, wife, and so forth). The list became less personal the further it went down. Mailmen stuck letters and packages in piles on the porch. And perhaps, but Evelyn wasn't quite sure, a footman had sat himself on the porch for a day or so before getting collected by a friend.
Nobody knocked on this day. Not yet, Evelyn thought, But, I really wish somebody would.
“I have become rather lonely,”
His words spilled from inside to out.
“Funny how when I want to be left alone, everyone knocks, but the day I need someone to talk to, no one does.”
And, to not jinx himself, he added.
“Not yet.”
He stopped his muttering to stare more at the door. Soon, he felt a tickle under his nose. Evelyn scrunched it up with the assumption a ribbon was trying to find its way up a nostril. Though, the tickle remained even after, so he tried again. The hatter resigned himself to look at what had found itself so cozy against his face. And he found, from the chin up, he was getting buried in the purple and white fur of some creature’s tail.
At this discovery, Evelyn knew to look up a bit. Expectedly, he spied his friend, Cesar (Readers will know him better by the moniker of Cheshire Cat) lounged on the back of his couch. The cat gave a wave of his clawed hand. Evelyn stared at him; his brow slightly furrowed.
“Your mustache is smudged.” He remarked. His eyes widened to a degree that his ears rose and he covered his mouth; an apologetic shimmer in his eye.
Cesar raised his eyebrows and laughed without fully meaning to, “It’s good to see you too, Evelyn.” He lifted his tail away from the other’s neck and sat upright. “You’ve been gone for quite a while. My mind tortured me endlessly with the thought of an ill fate befalling you, you know.”
“Pardon?” Evelyn blinked, partially still distracted by the smudged eyeliner above Cesar’s lip. The other side was so perfectly penciled on into a cute little curly-q - and it caused his mind to torture itself thinking about Cesar being laughed away by strangers.
“What I mean is,” Cesar put a gentle hand on Evelyn’s head, “I’ve been worried about you,”
Evelyn took one good last look at the mustache before he looked aside. (He usually looked at people’s noses, as he wasn’t quite fond of meeting people in the eyes. There was a strange pain that formed in the bridge of his nose when he tried, so he gave up years ago.)
“Oh.” He said.
“Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Cesar ran his fingers over a chunk of Evelyn’s hair. It had grown quite a lot since the two had last seen each other, and Evelyn hadn’t put hair care in his routine, so it was quite unkempt. Cesar would’ve thought it funny in any other circumstance, but he spied a hallowed look in Evelyn’s general demeanor that soured the humor.
Evelyn turned his head away. He gazed at the dust floating in the small bit of sunlight that shone between the curtains. He opened his eyes very wide, speaking as if possessed, “What does the apple do once the tree is cut? Is the spot it fell where it will lay a predetermined grave? Will he rot away into the earth, raisined by the sun without the guidance of where it came from?”
“I take that as you’re not okay?” Cesar’s tail twitched. He tilted his head to the side.
“Take it however you please,” Evelyn returned to his back. His gaze once again fell on the ceiling. “My words have become as meaningless as anything else that I could speak Shakespeare and sound like a fool,"
“What happened?” After this, the two stewed in a hauntingly long silence. Cesar watched as Evelyn’s eyes never parted their destination. Eventually, the cat hopped off the couch and began picking up various cups.
The ceramic clinked together enough to call Evelyn up to his elbows. “My tree was cut down, you see. That is what I meant,”
“Tree…” Cesar pursed his lips in thought. His ears flattened against his head. “I’m sorry to hear that. When did he-”
“Does it matter? He’s dead all the same.” Evelyn snipped Cesar’s question like a pair of scissors. He rubbed his eyes with the base of his palms. Cesar looked at him with raised eyebrows as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen. The hatter peeked out from behind his hand. Then hid again. He took a deep breath in and then let it out. “I’m sorry. My anger is not for you. It’s for… who knows what.”
“It’s quite alright, I understand… to a degree,” Cesar resumed his path to the kitchen table. He set his armful of cups down before he returned to the doorway. Evelyn sat up fully; his legs now swung over so his feet could touch the floor.
“Do you?”
“I do,” The cat continued on his way. He picked up the rest of the cups. From his chest, he hummed a small tune. “I don’t have my trees anymore - though they still stand - they’ve effectively been cut down for me. That's why I’m here in Wonderland at all.”
“Is it?”
“It is,” The realization this was a conversation he shouldn’t walk away from, Cesar popped off his tail and set the cups amidst the fur. He popped it on the end closest to him and let it float into the kitchen. He sat himself next to Evelyn. “It’s not much to tell. Just the woes of a… fruit born on an oak tree, I suppose. If we want to keep the metaphor going, that is.” Cesar looked at Evelyn and the two of them shook their heads at each other. “What I mean is - I understand your feelings, partially. It’s hard to lose any family member, no matter the circumstance. So, be angry, my friend, I don’t mind,”
Evelyn went silent for a moment. He scanned his brain in that time, then asked, “I thought your move to Wonderland was for the arts,”
“That’s still true - two things can be true at once you know,” Cesar poked Evelyn’s nose. His tail floated back over to the two of them; emptied of its burden of dirty dishes. The cat stuck it back into place and did a turn around to check if it was on correctly. He turned a few times until it felt right. (He had lost his tail before due to it being too loose and had formed the habit of checking at least three times that it was in tight since.)
“I suppose so,” Evelyn nodded slightly - a furrow in his brow formed as he dug deeper into his mind. And, while Cesar turned to pick up the broom, he continued to speak.
“But, let me not get beside the point,” The cat swept a bit of dust into the kitchen. Then leaned on the stick to continue talking to his friend. “I came here to check on your well-being - not depress you with my tales of woe,”
The hatter had moved to sit on the edge of the couch cushion. He started to straighten out some of the fabrics and ribbons from behind himself. “I think it helped, actually,”
“Oh?” One of Cesar’s ears perked upwards, “How so?”
Evelyn tried to flatten out a particularly wrinkled square of baby blue tartan fabric - a few of the wrinkles continued to bounce back even after two strong presses. “I can’t explain it,” He held the fabric in both hands and tugged on it, “I felt, well… Eh… stupid?”
“Eh… stupid?” Cesar repeated - he watched Evelyn’s face to make sure he heard it right. He leaned the broom on the arm of the couch and sat back down to instead fold fabrics with Evelyn - as it seemed the other was more concerned with them than the floorboards, and he wanted to be as helpful as he could. When Evelyn nodded, he continued, “Why do you think you were stupid?”
“Everyone made me feel that way - Not on purpose, I don’t think,” Evelyn had begun to spool a ribbon around his right pointer finger, “But, I couldn’t quite handle myself after the… death, you know. I didn’t know who to call and then by the time I figured out they told me I should’ve called sooner. But, I called everyone I could think of. I even called out my window, just in case.”
He tucked the ribbon in on itself. It held for a moment before it sprung back out. Evelyn started to wrap it around his finger again and he mumbled, “And how then, is the shrill laughter of ravens like the ground the apple falls upon,”
“It bruises?” Cesar suggested.
“Do you mean that?” Evelyn looked at Cesar. He paused the looping of the ribbon - hesitant to try to fix it again. “Or, are you just showing pity for my odd mannerisms?”
“I mean it,” Cesar reassured, now with a stack of folded fabrics in front of him. The top layers were quite neat. Though, the bottom layer had a wrinkle that pushed upwards. It warped the foundation up to the middle. “My care does not end where strangeness begins. If it did, I wouldn’t be able to care about anybody,”
“Strange how it’s normal to be strange,” Evelyn finally tried to tighten the ribbon again. He squinted in fear of it exploding again - but, when it didn’t, he set it on the table with a sigh. “That’s a bit of… a stupid bison?”
“Stu…” Cesar looked at Evelyn with a confused glance. “What?” (Surely, he thought, I couldn’t have heard that right.)
But, Evelyn continued to speak as if he had said nothing wrong. “Anyways, because of that, I found myself shaking like a leaf at the funeral home. I may have lost my shoes on the way, because they made me talk to them from the porch,” He had picked up a particularly large piece of fabric. One so vast it could've swallowed him up in a very lovely hug. His hands treated the velvety red fabric tenderly - careful not to tear the golden straw embroidered into it. “And, since I was shaking, I couldn't quite speak right. They didn't say a word - but I could see in their eyes they wanted to call my manners poor. Then after my tre-”
Evelyn paused - his eyes widened. He held the folded fabric near his face. Cesar stopped his movement. His paw outstretched, but not fully reaching the other. Evelyn breathed in. He met Cesar's paw in the middle.
“This fabric smells like daffodils.” The hatter's voice was muffled by the velvet. He lifted his face out of it - his eyes looked pleadingly at Cesar.
“Take your time, Evelyn,” Cesar gently pet his friend's hair. Evelyn looked down at the fabric. He eased himself by tracing the straw on the folded fabric in his lap and the aid of Cesar's fingers brushing slowly against his scalp.
“Then after my dad's funeral. All my family left for their homes again. They came to say they're sorry - what for? But, whatever it was, they charted off on their boats and horses before I could hear it,” Evelyn realized he had finished folding everything around him and stood up. His hands moved to mimic the various forms of travel as he went to pick up the broom. “And it doesn’t make any sense, but the first thing I wanted to do when I got home was to ask my dad… What do I do now? Even though he obviously wasn’t there to answer. But…”
He picked up the sweeping from where Cesar had left it. A small pile of dust and debris gathered at the entrance to the kitchen. “I suppose all that running around on my own made me realize just how much I depended on him to figure out… anything. And then those thoughts started to eat themselves from tail to tip until I began to… rot away in a coffin of my own devising.” By this point, Cesar had stood back up. He gathered the fabrics in his arms and dropped them off a basket by Evelyn’s work desk. With a quiet nod, he let his friend continue. “I felt trapped in my own stupidity. I still do, but… now, with what you told me. I think I might be okay,”
“Why’s that?” Cesar asked.
“I don’t quite know,” Evelyn scrunched his nose up. He rubbed the underside of it, “I suppose… I don’t feel as alone. And, if you can end up so pleasant, then maybe I can too,”
Cesar smiled quite genuinely; He proceeded to tease the other, “Aaw, you find me pleasant, I’m charmed,” Then, for the first time in a while, Evelyn laughed.
“Oh, shut it,” Evelyn swatted the broom at his feet, but purposely missed. The two of them snickered together. “One more remark like that and I’ll forget to be grateful for how you’ve helped tidy up in here,” the hatter playfully jeered.
Paws raised up in defeat, Cesar sighed (he was trying his best not to smile, but couldn’t help it), “Such a horror that I want to see my friend laugh - oh what a monster I am,” He leaned against Evelyn in a show of false drama, “I certainly deserve no thanks after that one,”
His friend took the end of the broomstick and lightly poked it into his back, “I wonder when that application for court jester I submitted in your name will be responded to,”
“Now, you know I’d never want to work for the Queen, even in a joking manner,” Cesar glared at Evelyn. He took his hand and bapped his nose; this action made the two of them laugh even more. And, in a fit of giggles and chortles, the act of finishing tidying seemed quite natural and went by much quicker than if they weren’t so jovial.
Eventually, as they wound back down to a comfortable pleasantness; Evelyn found himself propped on a stool with wet hair and draped in a blanket. He had made a passing remark about how his hair felt against his neck while they were washing the last of the tea cups. And, even though it was for different reasons, Cesar knew how horrible going without a haircut could be and insisted on cutting it.
The cat slowly pulled the curtains apart to let some more light in, then approached Evelyn. He picked a few of the now auburnish strands off the other’s forehead. A small smile graced his face as he saw Evelyn look at him - also grinning. (And, the hatter hoped his grin looked like the words “Thank you”)
They went on in silence as Cesar trimmed his friend’s bangs back to the length at which they formed a little heart on his forehead. Once he moved to Evelyn’s right side; the other began to speak. “I have a question,”
“I might have an answer,” Cesar hummed.
“How did you… No,” Evelyn clicked his tongue. He went back to being quiet for a moment longer with the realization he hadn’t found the words. Then, after a big breath in, he forced the first mish mash out he could. “I’m scared about the hat shop,”
“Why’s that?” Cesar said as he tilted Evelyn’s head forward so he could cut the underside of his hair off.
“I don’t feel ready to run it,” Evelyn admitted. He watched as his hair fell to the ground in piles. “I haven’t finished learning from my family’s book - and that nagging voice about my stupidity won’t let the idea of ruining it go.”
“I’ve seen your work, Evelyn,” Cesar finished getting most of the big chunks of hair cut off. He started to trim it down in smaller sections. “I’m sure you’ll do splendidly,”
“But, what if there’s something in that book that I haven’t read yet that’s the big trick to everything?” Evelyn tried to gesticulate, but quickly put his hands back in his lap after he realized Cesar had to pause the scissors.
“Well, then I suppose, you finish reading the book,” Cesar tapped above Evelyn’s ear. He pushed it aside to tidy the hairs behind it.
“But, I should reopen the shop soon. It’s been so long-” Evelyn protested - a spike in anxiety at both the thought and the scissors so near his precious ear. He held his breath.
“Easy… easy,” Cesar purred with a soft trace of one of his knuckles against Evelyn’s temple. The other remembered to breathe. “There you go. Now, my suggestion to you, would be to do what you know while you finish the book. As I said, seeing your work, you will be alright. And, if something truly bad does happen, you can call me,”
“Can I?” Evelyn asked.
“You can,” Cesar nodded. He stood back to look at his handiwork on Evelyn’s head before helping him stand up. His paws worked to dust off stray hairs as they walked to one of the mirrors by the work desk. Cesar pressed his cheek to Evelyn’s and grinned ear to ear, “Now, get a look at that - sharp, isn’t it?”
Evelyn looked at himself and tilted his head around to try and see it all. He smiled and resettled his cheek against Cesar’s. He perked up a bit before he said, “Oxymoron!”
“What?” Cesar looked at him sideways.
“That’s what the stupid bison was,”
And to that, Cesar gave Evelyn a light shove and the two of them worked back up into a chuckle fest until the evening; where the two had to part ways. Thankfully both were now in good spirits.