Alex in Hunterland

Alex in Hunterland

  By: April Schoffstall

  In this alternate Alice in Wonderland , a boy named Alex escapes his drunken Step-Father by entering the ridiculous, nonsensical land of Hunterland, filled with snowshoe hares, Indians, barbed wire and dirt roads.

  Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means –except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews- without the express permission of the publisher.

  "I'm gonna learnt you good, boy!" hollered the drunken hulk of a step-dad from the kitchen. Alex's heart began to race. It was only an empty threat unless the man bothered to get up. His young ears strained to hear the distinctive sounds of chair scraping on linoleum.

  errrtt

  Alex flew to his feet. As nimble as a deer and quick as a jackrabbit, he slipped out of his bedroom, skidded on the rug in the hall, and ducked into the den. Here, there were many places to hide, as well as an arsenal of weapons.

  His eyes rested on the gun case. The glass front was etched with ducks and deer. Two rifles were nested inside, a third disassembled on a cigarette-burnt card table smeared with shoe polish.

  "BOY! Dontchu hide from me!" Heavy footsteps shook the bullets in their boxes. Alex closed his eyes and made a wish. When he opened them, he felt it might have come true because the key was in the lock on the gun safe door.

  Opening it as the angry man flung the den door open, he had one thought. Hide!

  Alex shut his eyes tight. He could feel the steel grip of his step-dad's hands and smell his reeking breath. His body tingled at the thought of the painful bludgeoning he was about to receive.

  Alex felt a warm breeze blow his hair and he winced, sure it would be the calm before the storm of blows. But it wasn't.

  Opening his eyes, he spied a hilly meadow instead of the inside of a gun cabinet. His disbelief turned into relief and a maniacal laugh escaped his thin frame. A white jackrabbit startled and took off across the hills. Knowing that snowshoe rabbits should not be white in the summer, and thinking maybe his step-dad would be proud of him if he brought its pelt home, he chased after it.

  The white fur flashed over the crest of a hill and was gone. Stealthily approaching the spot, he peered over the top. A steep cliff met his gaze. His heart hammered in his chest. Surely the rabbit was dead at the bottom. Peering dizzily down, he saw a curiously moving circle. He could not see through the dust they kicked up whether or not a rabbit was among them.

  Glancing about, he spied an old goat trail and soon found his way down the cliff face to a dry land full of dust.

  Suddenly gunshots rang out and Alex fell flat on his face, covering his head with his arms. He was not hurt. Peeking through his arms, he spied some two legged creatures, human it seemed, doing an odd dance in a dusty circle. They waved guns in the air and shouted. He sat up. Some of the men wore jeans and cowboy hats and some wore loin cloths and feathers. He approached them, wanting to ask if they'd seen where the rabbit had hopped off to. He was swept up in their circle, kicking up his heels, whooping, and pointing his fingers in the air like guns.

  Their dancing was endless, carrying him across the desert of cracked and parched earth. As he tired, he spied some white fur dashing into a thicket. Ducking out of the dancers, he crawled into the cool underbrush, seeking a burrow. A litter of white rabbits would make him a fortune!

  As he crawled about, eyes cast down. A purr from above startled him. A giant smiling calico cat in a deer stalker cap scratched a tree.

  "You'll never catch him without a trap," the cat purred.

  "Are there more of them?" The boy licked his lips in eagerness.

  The cat grinned wider. "I know where you will find what you need." The cat twitched his tail and ran a paw over its ear.

  "Where?" the exasperated boy was ready to throttle the feline. "lf you don't tell me.."

  The cat swiped his claws at the boy's face, nearly reaching him. Alex shrank back.

  “Temper, temper,” purred the cat. "Perhaps I won't take you."

  “No! I'm... sorry."

  The cat sat with his back to the boy, frozen. Not even a whisker twitched.

  "Please?"

  "That's a good lad." The cat nimbly leapt from the tree and trotted down a path. Alex followed.

  They soon heard a merry brawl; voices boasting, dishes clattering and heavy tankards thunking. The cat disappeared on the stoop. Upon entering a dank and dark tavern, Alex spied some burly men leap at each other and begin to wrestle. "Bar fight! Bar fight! Move down!" shouted the barman with a very red nose and watery eyes. He spied Alex. "I.D. please!"

  "What?"

  "No drinks without proper I.D.!" barked the man. The fighting two patrons stopped wrestling, seated themselves and sized him up over their tankards.

  "I don't got I.D. I'm gonna catch the white rabbit!" The men at the end of the bar spit out their beer and guffawed, showing their missing teeth.

  The barman beat his meaty hand on the bar. "No laughing allowed! Drink up!"

  “But the cat said.."

  "CAT! Are you friends with the cat?!" The barman raised a beer bottle while the men at the bar left their stools and tankards and pounded their fists into their palms.

  "No?" squeaked Alex. He gulped. He was not going to get any help if he insulted the barman. He put on a brave face. "Look, sir, I was wondering what you know about the white rabbit. That is all."

  "Oh, it is, is it?" The barman spit shined a glass. The men giggled and took up a chorus of "It is, is it, its is, is it, ist, its," until the barman smacked his hand down again. "The white rabbit is property of the Queen. She don't take too kindly to people stealin' her kills."

  "Kills? What Queen kills rabbits?"

  "The Queen of Darts, that's who!" The two men began brawling again. "Bar fight! Bar fight! Move down!"

  Stumbling from the bar, Alex found himself in the middle of some sort of dirt road. Looking ahead, he saw a barbed wire fence and a gate with a No Trespassing sign. Behind him the forest loomed dark and he wished he had a weapon.

  As he stood wondering what to do next, the sound of marching feet swept out of the dark forest. Ducking behind a tree trunk, he spied a very organized army with the tips of rifles poking over their shoulders. Their uniforms were oddly rectangular. No sooner than he had realized what shape these soldiers were, and what shapes they were decorated with, he was swept along with them toward the barbed wire fence and gate. He had no choice but to fall into step.

  The gate swung open and lines of cards marched through. Two round things, like red oreos with tiny legs and striped sides, scanned the cards. Poker chips. Spying him, they stopped him.

  "You there! Business or Pleasure?"

  "Uh, business?" Alex wasn't sure what the correct answer was, and he could not read their expressions at all. "Take off your shoes."

  "What? Seriously?" The chips stared blankly at him. He took off his shoes. They inspected them. "Clean," said one. "Enter," said the other.

  The cards stood at attention along a path that led to a tree stand covered in camo and bearing a yellow and black checkered flag. He cautiously approached, wondering if the Queen would come down or if she expected he would come up.

  The flap opened and a gigantic ladder was brought to the stand with camo covered steps. A woman in black wearing protective eyewear, a severe ponytail and a bandolier filled with yellow ended darts stepped down the ladder rungs forward like stairs. Alex was impressed.

  She surveyed him, and for once, he was quiet. "No shoes, no service!" she screamed.

  "Hey, wait a minute. Your poker chips took my shoes!"

  "Are you deaf, boy? No shoes. No service," hissed the Queen. She sauntered away f
rom him.

  "I'm here on business!" he tried, remembering the chip's words.

  The Queen spun around and squinted at him. "Well then. Let's play." She pointed to a gate and led the way.

  A yard decorated with fake ducks and plastic deer greeted them as cards filed away before the Queen. "Croquet?" he hedged.

  “MINI GOLF!” she screamed.

  The Queen walked to a pen filled with wild turkeys. She loaded a dart gun with one shot, aimed, and speared the Tom of her choice. The turkey fell over, paralyzed with tranq.

  "Your turn." She handed him the gun and a 3 of Spades held out a small case of red tipped darts. He loaded one, nervously, under the hawk-like stare of the Queen. He aimed, but the turkeys began squawking and flapping and trying to escape. His first shot went wide. The cards, chips, and Queen laughed. He reloaded, and the second narrowly missed. The crowd hushed. The third stuck.

  He was handed the fowl and followed the Queen's lead as she lined up a golf ball on the first hole and swung her limp turkey's head at the ball with enough force to rattle its brain. The ball bounced off the obstacle wall and careened towards the hole, losing momentum and dropping slowly in. The crowd clapped and cheered as she bowed.

  Alex lined up his shot, swung, and the ball sailed out of the first hole never touching the green. "This is stupid!" he screamed. Alex threw his tranquilized turkey down. The crowd gasped. The Queen looked furious. "I want the white rabbit," he declared.

  "The white rabbit is not yours to hunt," the Queen said with too much calm in her voice.

  "If I find it first, it is!" Gripping his dart gun firmly and knocking over the card that held his red-tipped darts and grabbing a handful of them, he ran zig-zag around the card soldiers as quick as a jackrabbit.

  He made his way for the fence, shoved the cards backwards over the barbed wire and clambered over them to safely escape the boundaries of the Queen’s property.

  Leaning against a tree, he loaded the gun, listening for the Queen and her army. The startled rabbit dashed before him, and he gave chase. Over fallen logs, through brush, under vines, and around trees he scampered with the cottony tail in sight. Finally, the rabbit zagged and Alex zigged, aimed on the fly, prayed, and squeezed the trigger.

  Bounding to the spot where it went down, his hand gripped two white ears and held them up for the Queen.

  She screamed, crumpling into a sobbing mess. Alex almost felt sorry for her, but then he remembered that he would get a fortune for this pelt and gave a victorious whoop.

  The world crumbled as her eyes rose to his, makeup running, pupils dark and cold. She opened her mouth to wail, but no sound came out. Then everything went black.

  "Alex?"

  "Oh, gawd, Alex! How long have you been locked in there?" Alex's mother pulled his sweating, limp body from the cramped space in the gun cabinet. An officer stood with his step-dad in cuffs.

  "Are you okay, honey?"

  All Alex could do was smile. He had won.