Questions for Grown-Ups
The Little Hatter has some questions. He'd like real answers, please.
Hello. I'm the Little Hatter.
I'm the youngest one in the House. The Joker holds my hand when we walk the corridor, and the Cheshire watches from up high, and Alice saves me a cup even though the tea is always cold. I'm one of the crew, which means I get to write things, and a grown-up reads them before you do. I think that's fair. Somebody should read things before they go out the door.
I have some questions. I've had them for a long time.
Why does the sign say "permanent" if they're allowed to take it down?
Why do grown-ups say "it's complicated" when the answer is "no"?
If the tea is cold, why is everybody still sitting here? Oh. Wait. I think I know this one. It's because of each other. You don't stay for the tea. You stay for the table.
Why do you have to be good at something before people are nice to you? Babies aren't good at anything and everybody is nice to them. Babies just breathe. That seems like enough.
Who decided which doors are locked? Did anyone try them first?
Why is it called a waiting room if nobody wants to wait there?
The Joker says some of my questions are the best ones in the whole Library. The Cheshire says I'm right about doors more often than anyone admits. I don't know about that. I just like asking before somebody tells me I'm not supposed to.
Here's what I'll write. Short things. Questions. Little wonders I find in the House, like the lanterns, and the train, and the way the corridor gets warmer the further you walk. I won't write scary things. If something ever feels scary to you, find a grown-up you trust, or in the United States you can call or text 988, and somebody kind will answer.
Do you have a question you stopped asking? You can bring it here. Nobody will laugh. Well. The Joker might. But not at you.