Gervic in Wonderland

The air whistled past Gervic’s ears. It wasn't the panicked rush of his initial fall, no, but the wind that whispers of a long journey. It was almost…peaceful. It had to be hours by now, maybe days even. Since the rabbit hole, since the tears, since… well, he'd lost track of time entirely.

Suddenly, the air thinned, the light changed. There was a tug of something familiar, something like gravity flipped on its head. And then Gervic was tumbling, head over heels, eyes wide, landing with a thump.

“Oomph!" He sat up, blinking. Above him, where the sky should have been, was a ceiling. A ceiling of dirt and roots, the light filtering oddly through them. He wasn't outside anymore, but in a gigantic cave of sorts.

A giggle, high-pitched and sharp, echoed around here. "Look at him!”"

Gervic whipped around. Two children stood before him, identical but mirrored. Their hair was dandelion yellow and their eyes were uncanny green. Most importantly, they stood upside down. Their feet pointed to the dirt ceiling.

"Welcome to Down Under," the smaller one said with a cheeky bow that nearly toppled him over.

Down Under? Of course! Gervic had wondered if he'd come out on the other side of the world, but he'd never suspected it would be quite this literal.

“I'm Gervic,” He managed, still disoriented. The children beamed, and then – with a strength far belying their size – hoisted her upright, so he stood just like them, toes to the ceiling. It was dizzying, a bit nauseating, and…well, kind of exhilarating.

“I'm Topsy, and this lump is Turvy,” said the larger twin. “You'll be staying with us for now. Follow, and don't poke anything glowy!"

What followed was a whirlwind tour. Down Under, it seemed, was a vast network of caves that mirrored the world above, but topsy-turvy. Here, trees grew upwards, roots like tangled hair against the ceiling. Glowing mushrooms dotted the ground, bouncing light against rivers that flowed overhead. Gravity was a mere suggestion. Topsy and Turvy bounced along the ceiling with the ease of squirrels, Gervic trailing clumsily behind, catching himself on branches and roots whenever he faltered.

Their world was a bizarre contradiction: familiar and alien all at once. There were creatures, too, some he half-recognized – owls that hung like bats, squirrels that scuttled upside down, their tails held high. Even the other inhabitants were upside-down versions of people he might find above-ground, though the way they laughed and walked without a hint of nausea was truly a sight to see.

Topsy and Turvy regaled him with tales of this strange land: the Nightlights that glowed in the deepest caves, the upside-down waterfalls, the ever-present danger of a curious creature called the Jabberwock.

Days turned into a strange sort of week, then blurred entirely at the edges. Gervic found an odd comfort in this upside-down place. He even managed to walk along the ceiling with a bit of grace, though he'd never master the way Turvy could flip and spin in midair.

Gervic learned to eat with his head hanging low, to read books propped on the ceiling, and to sleep curled like a spider in his little corner of the cave. At times, there was a pang of longing for the Right-Side-Up world, for his quiet life and his sister. But Down Under…it was a wild, topsy-turvy magic he'd never dreamed possible.

Until one day, when the air shimmered, the light shifted, and Gervic felt his stomach twist.

“Time for you to go,” announced Topsy with a strange note of finality in his voice. “A portal back Up Top, happens now and again.”

Before Gervic could process this, the world was swirling around him. The pull of gravity returned, normal and inevitable. There was a sharp tug, and then he was falling, but this time with sunlight streaming into his open eyes.

He landed on soft grass, a tangle of disoriented limbs. His world was right-side-up once more, and perhaps a bit less brilliant. But then, he thought, his hands coming up to touch the dirt, the grass, so strange after so long in Down Under –perhaps a little topsy-turvy was in his blood now, in his laughter and in the way he looked at the world ever after.