Alice: 2nd Generation of Madness

In the Beginning

London, England

March 4th, 1876

Around six o' clock in the afternoon, she opened her eyes. The look in them was feline, determined and tentative and protective. Yes, that was just right, those eyes. Those brilliant green eyes below her fine brow, inches from the dark cascade of her hair.

She put her hand to her stomach. The contractions were coming closer together now. The baby would be coming any minute.

She decided to wait. The midwife and a doctor and the nurses had been at the Mangled Mermaid a week now, waiting for the baby to come. It was a week late. The future mother thought to how the child would look: her hair and her father's eyes, or vice versa. Or it could take after her if it should be female. Her eyes fell to the crib made by the replacement for Long Tim two months ago. Her mind took her outside, where the day before one of the police officers she had come to know on her frequent visits there surprised her with some old baby clothes from his youngest child. A girl. His wife was so sure that was what she was carrying.

She looked up to see the midwife, a kind young woman by the name of Margaret Sutton, standing at the door. There was some fire in her cheeks. Was she angry? Embarrassed?

"Why are you here?" Alice Liddell asked her.

"I-I wanted to check on you," she stammered, moving to Alice. "I saw the light on in your room and then-"she paused, looking at Alice's stomach-"I notice your stomach! Alice, why didn't you call on me?" Margaret ran to the door and called for the doctor, nearly waking the whole establishment. Then Alice felt the pain. Margaret had an uncanny ability for timing. The next one felt so horrid Alice yelled in pain. In the past nine months, even with recieving advice from other women who were mothers themselves, it could not have prepared Alice for this.

. . . . March 5th, 1876 6:39 AM

It took twelve hours, but the baby came. It was a girl. Alice held her daughter in her arms. Looking at her features. Pale skin, green eyes, the head full of black hair.

"She's beautiful," Margaret said, leaning over Alice.

"Yes," Alice agreed in a whisper. Unlike most children when they are born, Alice's was not yelling loudly. She was just staring at Alice, then at Margaret, then at Alice again. A most curious child, indeed.

Recognition came to Alice's eyes looking into her daughters own. They were green like hers, but they had a brightness to them that made them so familiar to someone she knew.

Carpenter! But he was in Wonderland. Wonderland was simply in Alice's mind.

Wasn't it?