CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE UNDERWORLD

When they reached the opposite bank, they saw a huge dog with three heads. Linda Crotty and Peter hid in Miss Morgan's lap; and everybody else, even Miss Prysby and Mr Newman, went scurrying to the far end of the raft, nearly tipping it over. Everybody, that is, except Timmy, who walked right up to him and held out his hand and let the dog lick it with all three tongues.

Soon all the kids ran ashore and crowded close so they could get a chance to pet the dog.

Then Kathy started giggling and whispered to Gaynell; and Gaynell started giggling and whispered to Kathy; and finally Kathy asked, "Mister, why are you walking around in your underwear?" Both Kathy and Gaynell blushed and giggled some more.

The man in underwear answered, "Of course I'm in underwear. What else would you wear in the Underworld?"

Kathy was still puzzled, "Somehow that just doesn't seem right".

"But of course it's right," he answered. "Everybody here writes. Perhaps you've heard of me. I'm Lewis Carroll".

"Yes," said Gaynell. "I remember that story you wrote about your friend Alice and how she fell down into the ground through a rabbithole".

"That's right. And the gentleman over there is William Shakespeare. And the one fishing on the riverbank is Mark Twain".

"Miss Prysby," asked Paul Newman, "what's going on? What's it all about? Who are these guys, anyway?"

"It's all very confusing, Paul," she answered. "They seem to be writers, writers who have been dead for many years. I don't understand how they got here; or how we got here. But I'm sure it could be quite educational talking to them".

Timmy walked up to Mark Twain and stared at him for a while and finally asked, "Mister ... Mister Twain, what's that you're eating?"

"Huckleberries, of course," answered Mr Twain. "Here, try some. Just pull up some ground and cool your feet in the water. Don't be afraid. It's a friendly river. When you get to know it, you'll feel like you've always lived near it, even before you can remember".

Meanwhile, Kathy walked up to Shakespeare and asked him, "Mr Shakespeare, could you please tell me where I could find some of that love potion you mention in your play?"

"Look to the power in a flower," he replied.

"But what flower?"

"The flower of youth".

"I never heard of that flower. Is it anything like a rose or a forgetmenot? Is it like the sunflower Mr Newman wears in his buttonhole? Is it like an iris, like the Little Blue Wallflower?"

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet".

"As sweet as what, Mr Shakespeare? Where can I find it? Where can I buy it?"

"What can be bought can be sold; and what sold, can stolen be. True magic is not so easily had nor lost nor even seen. Gently it grows within you unawares, and shows itself in unlikely ways. Perchance, you may not even know you've blossomed, till you find yourself the flower of someone's eye, just like the iris".

Paul Newman was staring at Mr Carroll. "Miss Prysby," he asked, "who is this hotshot guy with the girl's name who goes around in underwear? What'd he write?"

"You mean Carroll, Mr Lewis Carroll?" she answered. "He wrote Alice in Wonderland and other children's books".

"Kids' books? Just kids' books? No point in fillin' my head with that stuff".

"Well, it's said that they can be understood on many levels".

"You mean like going up and down on an elevator?"

"Yes, you might say that," answered Miss Prysby.

"Hey, that's cool. Where's the buttons? I want to try that trip".

Gaynell asked, "Mr Carroll, do you really understand everything?"

"No, of course not. I only stand under the world. There are others, much lower, who stand under us. Yes, there are many levels of understanding".

Miss Morgan shook her head. "We may be standing under the world right now," she said, "but I really don't understand any more than I did before. If anything, I understand less. Nothing seems to make any sense, and I'm lost, and I've gotten the whole class lost with me".

"Nothing lost, nothing grained," he answered.

"Grained?" asked Miss Morgan.

"Yes, surely you want to be born a grain. Otherwise you wouldn't have fallen into the earth".

"I'm sorry, Mr Carroll, but I really don't understand any of this. Couldn't you please tell us how to go home?"

Then the redcoat sergeant stepped forward and asked, "Could you please tell us 'ow to get 'ome from 'ere?"

"Well," answered Mr Carroll, "I don't know how to get to either place myself, and I've heard some pretty bad things about both of them. But, if you like, I can take you down to the next underworld, and maybe there somebody can help you".

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much," said Miss Morgan, greatly relieved that someone would help.

"Not so fast," added Mr Carroll. "Before I can take you anywhere, we'll have to check the weather report".

"Weather report?" she asked.

"Yes, whether or not you can go any further".

"But, Mr Carroll, surely you must be kidding? We're in a terrible hurry, and why on earth should we need a weather report?"

"You forget, my dear, we're not on earth, we're under it".

Just then they heard a sneeze and another sneeze and a loud hoarse cough.

Donny said, "Gosh, that was some cough, mister. Can you do that again?"

The man was wearing a white jacket, was carrying a brown doctor's bag, and had a stethoscope hanging round his neck. He coughed again and again and again and shook all over.

Donny quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, mister. I didn't mean for you to get sick. He looks awfully sick, Miss Morgan".

"Yes," replied the man, "I'm sick of the whole world".

"I hope it isn't serious," said Miss Morgan.

"That depends on how you take the world. For myself, I just can't take it seriously".

"This is the Weatherman," Mr Carroll introduced him.

"The Weatherman?" asked Miss Morgan.

"He's under the weather right now," explained Mr Carroll. "But that's the best way to understand it".

The man hobbled up to Miss Morgan, still coughing and shaking. She tried to get out of his way. "Please don't get so close, sir," she insisted. "I don't want to catch those germs and pass them on to the children. What's he trying to do?" she asked Mr Carroll.

"Relax," said Mr Carroll. "He's just going to take your weather report".

So Miss Morgan stood still, and the Weatherman opened up his doctor's bag and started checking her temperature and taking all sorts of measurements in the air around her.

"Hmmm, indeed," mumbled the Weatherman. "Cloudy and heavily overcast, with a thick ground-level fog. Visibility near zero. Temperature near freezing. Air pollution index -- critical".

"It's just like I suspected," explained Mr Carroll. "Nothing personal, Miss Morgan. It's just the air up there. Polluted. You get used to it so you don't even notice it. But it sticks to you. It's a deadening atmosphere. Disenchanting. You all have it, and you'll have to wash it out before you can go any further. Right this way. Right in that big room over there".

Mr Carroll led the way.

"Come along now, Paul," urged Miss Prysby.

"Where's this Carroll guy takin' us?" he asked. "That doesn't look like an elevator to me. Looks more like a lighthouse with a dunce cap on top. What a blast! What a wayout way out!"

"I can't say I'm all that happy about walking inside something that looks as weird as that," admitted Miss Prysby. "But we don't have much choice, and it could prove educational.

Once everyone was inside the big room, Mr Carroll stepped out and shut the door on them.

"Mr Carroll! Mr Carroll!" shouted Miss Morgan. "What are you doing? Open that door at once! How dare you!"

"It's dark in here," whined Timmy.

"Aren't there any windows?" asked Eugene.

"I want to go home," said Kathy.

"He must be some kind of kook," said Mr Newman.

"He wouldn't lock us in here for no reason at all," noted Miss Prysby. "There must be some explanation".

"I should never have trusted a total stranger," sobbed Miss Morgan. "But he seemed like such a nice man".

"Miss Morgan, maybe it's like in his book," suggested Gaynell. "I bet there's a mushroom somewhere, and we're supposed to eat it and get really small and go out some little hole we can't even see now because we're so big".

"No, Gaynell," said Miss Morgan. "I'm afraid I made a terrible mistake. I should never have trusted him".

"Paul, what are you trying to do?" asked Miss Prysby.

"Just tryin' to get us out of here. I'm tryin' to kick the wall in, but it's just a pile of mush".

"Yeah, gosh," said Donny. "Feel that wall. It's all mushy".

"Maybe we're in a mushroom," suggested Gaynell, "a huge mushroom. Here, Miss Morgan, try a piece of the wall. It tastes just like a mushroom".

All the kids grabbed chunks of the wall and started eating.

"What!" boomed a deep hollow voice from all around them. "Are you fed up with yourselves? Why do you go around eating other people?"

There was a whistling noise as air was sucked out of the room. Soon everybody was breathing hard and fast, as if they'd been running and were short of breath. Then there was no air at all, and they were all breathless, waiting for something awful to happen.

Suddenly, a door flew open, and everybody rushed to get to the air and took a deep breath and found themselves falling into the river.

The water felt better than any water had ever felt: bright and sparkly, crisp and clean. Soon they were swimming and playing splashing games with Mr Carroll and with each other.

At first, Miss Morgan was scared that the kids would be in over their heads. But it was a funny river: no matter where anybody was, it wasn't over their depth -- just deep enough to have fun in.

Bit by bit they got all played out and came ashore to lie on the beach or build sand castles or pick up shells. Miss Morgan lay there on the beach and looked out at the moon reflected on the water and the woods beyond and said, "Beautiful. It's just beautiful".

"Yes," Mr Carroll added, "It's breathtaking".

Miss Morgan felt good all over, lying there on the beach beside Mr Carroll. Kathy and Gaynell would have giggled and whispered to one another, but they and the rest of the kids were already sound asleep.