The Futterwackeneer

 “Damn these blasted manholes”, she grumbled to herself as she dusted off and looked high above. She called for help, but the hole she fell through was too far up and the traffic muffled her every attempt. She slumped down in the dark until she began to hear something move toward her. It sounded like the keys of a piano. It was calming yet frightening. The notes sped up and seemed to play a familiar tune as it came closer and closer. In the light of her cell phone, she saw two large, green eyes smiling at her and a giant, laced hat floating above them. Just as her jaw dropped, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

A melodious voice sung, “Is that you, Alice?”

“Who on earth is Alice? And who in this pothole are you?”

“I’m the Mad Hatter. And I’m looking for my Alice. Ever since I’ve been renamed, I’ve had trouble finding her.”

“What are you called now?” she asked, still dazed.

“I go by the ‘Futterwackeneer’ these days. Do you think I’ll ever find her?”

“I could help you search if you’ll help me out”, she said, confidently. She searched his sullen eyes and felt a pang of pity run through her body. He nodded. “Why ‘the Futterwackeneer?”, she asked, eager to see this colourful soul smile.

“Tickle me.”

“What?”

“Tickle me.”

She reached out in the dark and ticked his ribs. As he laughed, a guitar began to play. She kept moving her fingers over his sides and stomach. She heard a flute and a violin. She heard a harmonica that played in rhythm with his laugh. She wanted to pull away, to ask questions, to scream in wonder and horror, but she couldn’t. She found herself tickling him harder, jabbing his arms and laughing with him. He turned around and she tickled his back, leading to loud thumps from drums somewhere within him. He began to dance in place, to balter, to futterwacken. He jumped about and stomped his feet- playing at the piano again. She now realized where the music came from. He threw his hat up high and scratched his long, red hair, making the most delicious shuffling sounds.

“You’re an instrument! You’re an orchestra! You’re... you’re...what are you?!” She sang to his tunes and danced around him. She turned to face him, only to find the music growing slower and slower. She opened her mouth, ready with a barrage of questions.

“Just find me my Alice”, he said, walking away, taking the music with him as a voice from above called down, “Who’s there?”.