Down The Rabbit-Hole

The cinnamon buns had to be conspiring against her, because if they hadn’t burnt her hands on the way out of the oven, Yulhee would never have seen the White Rabbit.

She’d been out of sorts the whole morning. The summer holiday had started much as they always did: Seulgi shaking her awake in the crowded bedroom. The sisters needed to start preparing the bakery’s goods before the sun rose. Shivering in the cool morning air, Yulhee yanked a pale blue sweater on over her white sundress, covering the faint scars on her right arm. The four sisters shared the attic bedroom of the thin, skinny two-story house, with a slanted roof and two round circular windows on the front and back you needed a stepladder to look through. Their mother slept on the first floor.

Quietly, Yulhee watched Seungwan tear their very small cupboard apart insisting that her skirt had been in there somewhere. Seulgi ate breakfast perched on their desk, legs tucked under her amidst the stacks of papers and books. Yerim went back to sleep, buried under the colourful mess of old blankets and pillows on the floor around the bunk bed. The familiarity was soothing. It made it harder to decide.

None of them noticed as Yulhee reached into her satchel and pulled out a scrap of paper. In spidery handwriting, she’d scrawled a short note: Missing Persons Case: Eight years ago, Han Yulhee (not birth name) was found in the Woods without memories and with the number 15 carved onto her arm. Age at discovery was approximately twelve. If you have information about her or the circumstances of her reappearance, please contact Han Bakery.

Taking a pen, she added in the bakery's address at the bottom, as well as a photograph of herself she'd cut out of her high school yearbook. She’d been toying with placing this in the town paper for several days now, and really, it wasn’t as though it would take up any space. Like everything else about the town, the paper was small and had suffered from the closing of the nearby mine. Now it reported mostly local gossip, weddings and obituaries, and the occasional crackpot piece written by someone with too much time on their hands. She could almost justify it as giving the place a little excitement.

“Oi, Yulhee, come on, we’re going!” Seungwan called. Yulhee started, shoving the paper back into her satchel, and trailing after her older sister. The bakery was only a block away, and soon the bright blue walls, white-and-blue striped awning, and the curly lettering on the large glass window came into view. It was here, with her hands caked in flour and icing, preparing for the morning crowd that would fill the circular tables and empty the display case, that Yulhee began to question whether it was the right choice.

The abduction, or kidnapping, or however one was supposed to refer to reappearing in a forest as an amnesiac, had occurred when she was twelve. At twenty, Yulhee knew she was expected to have moved forward and recovered from the ordeal. Or, at the very least be reasonably content with her current life. She was certainly not supposed to be seeing them anymore. Dredging it up felt like it would come with a very big price.

Besides, she was supposed to have ‘gotten over that phase’.

She glanced at her sisters’ out of the corner of her eye. Seungwan was glazing an elaborate wedding cake with little birds, while Yerim was organizing the display case, setting down marzipan and lemon swirls.

“Mm…Seulgi…What would you say to someone trying to find out about their past?” Yulhee asked, as she shifted flour, sleeves rolled up. Seulgi was the same age as her. Yulhee felt most comfortable testing the waters with her than she would with Seungwan, who at twenty-four now owned the family bakery. Yerim on the other hand, at sixteen, was more likely not to take her words seriously. 

Seulgi glanced up from where she was decorating a cake with little green swirls to fit the summer season, cocking her head to the side. “You mean their ancestors?”

Yulhee bit her lip, keeping her expression neutral as she continued shifting. “More of, well… Someone like me.”

Her sister shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d say it’s really a case by case sort of thing. I suppose some people want to make their peace, or feel blood is very important. But if their past might be traumatizing – I wouldn’t want someone to get attached to finding it. I don’t know, I guess I can’t relate. I would think what they had now would bring them more comfort.” She glanced over again, furrowing her brow. “I think that’s enough.”

“Maybe it isn’t enough for everyone.” Yulhee stated, keeping her tone even despite the lump in .

“I meant enough flour.”

Yulhee looked down to see a small mountain of flour on the kitchen table. “Oh,” she said weakly, dropping her hands to her sides.

Immediately, Seulgi placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her face with a finger. Automatically, Yulhee dropped her eyes to the floor, knowing it would make it harder for Seulgi to figure out what was on her mind. “Yulhee, is something wrong? You seem distracted.”

“Just very tired,” Yulhee said. In her experience, “I’m fine” raised more alarm bells than it kept questions at bay. The trick to getting people off your back was telling them what they wanted to hear. People already had their own biases and notions already. Seulgi eyed her suspiciously, and now Seungwan was beginning to look over.

“How is everything going?” Yulhee breathed a silent sigh of relief at the sound of their mother’s voice. Mrs Han was a social worker in a larger town a ways down but she always popped in before heading off on the long drive with three of their neighbours. “Goodness, Yulhee, what have you done?”

“Sorry Mum, wasn’t paying attention,” Yulhee murmured, trying to scrape the flour back into the bag.

“But you’re always like that!” Yerim chirped, making Yulhee scowl, swiping at her sister. Yerim cackled, ducking beneath the display to evade a hair full of flour.

“It’s a wonder your grades were as good as they were,” Mrs Han commented, shaking her head as she sat down at one of the tables. She beamed when Seulgi brought over a cup of coffee. “I still don’t see why you won’t get a scholarship to go to college.”

“Neither has Seulgi,” Yulhee responded defensively. They’d had this conversation so many times. Yulhee didn’t want to admit the real reason why she was so reluctant to leave. There were some things, she reflected, you told your parents, and some that you simply did not. Particularly when it involved the past. 

Seulgi whacked her with a whisk. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“At least I’m being a constructive member of society,” Seungwan joked, “Unlike you two freeloaders.”

“This isn’t being constructive?” Yulhee asked, frowning, forgetting to put on her oven mitts.  She yanked the tray out of the oven. “Oh, .”

The tray clattered to the ground. She hissed in pain. Cinnamon buns splattered in a mess of brown glaze and crumbs across the blue-and-white tiled floor. There was a brown smear on her pristine white sundress. It was precisely at this moment, as Yulhee glanced up in shock, that it happened. Something very much out of the way.

The White Rabbit was standing outside the bakery’s window. Yulhee froze in place. She could see his dark, floppy hair and the long white ears sprouting from the top of his head. They twitched slightly. There was something not entirely right about his presence. He was a gaping hole in reality. He was looking at a watch drawn on his wrist in blue ink and muttering to himself. The bakery door was open. His voice drifted through.

“So many messages to send, ooh, I’m late, I’m late – but what am I late for? Oh dear, can’t remember,” he was saying, “Was today a Tuesday?” 

No – it had been six months. Instinctively, she had taken a step backwards. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t be here. They hadn’t appeared all this time, why now?

“Yulhee? Hey, Yulhee!”

Yulhee tore her eyes away from the large glass window to look at her sister. None of them could hear the White Rabbit’s words. They were only looking at her in a range of shock and concern, or in Yerim’s case, mournfully lamenting the destruction of her buns. Seulgi glanced out the window, but her eyes were unfocused; she could not see him. Her heart sank into her stomach.  

 “What are you staring at?” Seungwan waved a hand in front of her face as Yulhee miserably on her burnt thumb. “And put some ice on that. That’s just disgusting.”

“Y-yes.” Despite herself, her eyes drifted again to the window. The White Rabbit’s red eyes met her own. No. He opened his mouth in a little ‘oh’ of surprise.

Then he beamed, a dimple showing in his cheek. He waved wildly. “Hullo! Yes, you! You can see me.”

Yulhee flinched from how loud his voice was, s