Doctor Who_ Wonderland - Mark Chadbourn [20]
'We'll never get in,' I said.
The Doctor flexed his fingers. 'Let's see, shall we?'
He scampered across the street and up to the front door, the rest of us hurrying to keep up. The entrance was guarded by an unnaturally tall, muscular man dressed in long black robes. He had a shaven head and he was wearing sunglasses, despite the hour. His swarthy skin emphasised the numerous gold bangles and necklaces that hung off him. He was curious about the Doctor, who did a little jig before bouncing up the steps.
'What a fine evening this is,' the Doctor said with a theatrical sweep of his arm, 'and how wonderful it is to be here.'
I could see the doorkeeper was intrigued by the Doctor's accent. 'Hey, do you know the Beatles?' he asked.
'Ah, the Fab Four! Why, yes I do,' the Doctor replied. 'In fact, it was I who suggested George visit the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi for his spiritual guidance.' The doorkeeper looked perplexed. 'Oh, of course, that hasn't happened yet. But it will happen! Mark my words!'
He pulled a recorder out from inside his jacket and proceeded to play 'Love Me Do' jauntily while performing a crazy dance. By this time a small crowd had gathered. They laughed and clapped at his antics as he played up to them; the doorkeeper wouldn't be able to turn him away without getting some annoyed comments.
But the Doctor sealed his entrance by finishing his tune with a flourish of his hands that made the recorder disappear. It was a simple bit of stage magic, but in the Haight we were easily entertained. Everyone cheered, and the doorkeeper stood to one side to let us in.
I was a little stunned myself. I hadn't seen that side of the Doctor before. It was almost like he was two people; more, in fact.
Inside the house it was like we'd stepped into another dimension, like one of those crazy places Ditko drew in the Dr Strange comics everyone loved. It was designed to stimulate every sense, a heightened atmosphere that had my head spinning the moment we'd walked through the door. Incense and joss sticks mingled with the aroma of grass. In rooms where the music wasn't playing, wind chimes and bells jangled, accompanied by the insane rhythms of bongo players. Drapes hung everywhere, velvet, silk, gauze, drifting in a faint breeze through the open windows. Psychedelic lights splayed swirling colours across the walls and ceilings, bubbles floated here and there, and everywhere people were dressed in the most amazing clothes and make-up. Many of the party-goers wore ornate masks, though some of them were grotesque, and left me feeling faintly uneasy.
'Shall we mingle?' the Doctor said with a clap of his hands. But as he turned away, I caught a brief glimpse of his face darkening, and I realised what he was doing.
I caught his arm. 'You're not here for me at all, are you? This has something to do with your own thing.' He looked at me with those intense eyes for a long moment, then smiled.
'I'm here for all of us, Summer. Trust me.'
I watched his back as it vanished into the crowd.
Ben and Polly came with me as we drifted through the house, mesmerised by the strange, beautiful people and the heady atmosphere of that place. For an hour or more, we mingled as things grew wilder. In one room a couple had sex while a crowd watched admiringly. In another, people lolled on cushions smoking a hookah like in some Middle Eastern drug den. Everywhere people were tripping, hugging each other, whispering weird things as they passed. All the rules of society in the straight world slipped away.
We found Mathilda holding court in a lavishly gothic room on the second floor. She was in her early fifties, with dyed black hair and too much make-up, and like the doorkeeper she was wearing black robes and jewellery that were so theatrical it was pretty obvious,