I am the Fisher Queen. I am the Mad Hatter’s wife. I am the lioness that once roared, and yet these people, who should be worshipping me, ignore me. Not the wayfarers, though. They are proper and worshipful subjects.

Listen, I once traveled to Egypt, where I spoke with my brother, the Sphinx. Here is what we said.

Brother, I have come so far to see you.

Sister, I am happy that you are here.

Brother, what news do you have, what great visions do you see.

I see nothing but sad times ahead, and difficulties for these human beings who persist in the folly of their actions. Sister, what will you do to help them

Brother, I shall return to my kingdom and begin speaking with them one by one, group by group. It is my task in life to meet people and express my concerns, my hopes, my dreams, and my plans.

And offer your answers, he said.

Yes brother, I will tell them my answers. And what of you?

Sister, since the wind blew away part of my face, I cannot educate human beings any longer. I am only a decoration for them now. I can see them, their past and present and future, but I can no longer relay my insights. I hope, sister, that you can. And perhaps the dharma in the wall – no, wait, that has been slaughtered.

Yes, some people took faces and bodies off the cliffs of our brother bodhisattvas. There is decimation everywhere. The people do not want to listen to us.

I sit on the bench and watch the people who are in swan boats and are paddling on the lake they call Echo Lake. I am in my queendom, Echo Park. It is a beautiful park in the middle of the city of angels. No one is bothering me, and although I came to the bench this morning so I could talk to the people, I have decided to be quiet today. There are those people in their blue uniforms asking questions. I have seen them take wayfarers by the arms and spirit them away from the lake. I do not know where they go, although one man told me, after he returned, that they are taken to a building with a room for every two people, and they cannot escape the room until the blue uniform people let them out. They do get fed, he told me, but it is altogether unpleasant. He took my hand and said he hoped I would never experience it. I won’t, I said, for I am the Queen. The Fisher Queen.

But life is not always scary, sad, or confusing. I found a box with clothing in it, and I festooned myself with a lacy skirt and a purple sweater decorated with knitted flowers of all colors – very pretty and befitting of a queen. I dressed myself and took a walk around the lake. Many of the wayfarers complimented me, and several bent their knee, and two kissed my hand. I am a loved queen in my domain. Sometimes, when the blue uniforms decide to come into my queendom, the wayfarers hide me, keep me moving, or walk me up to Sunset and away from the uniforms. I do not like to hide in my own domain. I should be treated with respect by those blue uniform people, but alas, this is the way of the city of angels. It is jealous of my queendom and wants to enclose it and make it theirs.

Listen. Sometimes to escape I travel to Wonderland to marry my husband. The Mad Hatter is a wonderful and weird character, but he doesn’t remember me each time I visit, so we fall in love all over again, and we marry, and it is great fun until I have to leave. Then I promise to return, and I do, one time each year and more if I can, and we fall in love and marry every time. I asked him what would happen if the people stopped me from returning, and he knew nothing of the people, so I got no advice from him. Only tenderness and laughter and the oddest conversations, for he cannot follow a thread because he is mad, but he is also attentive and kind. It always makes me sad to leave, and someday, if the people are just too much for me, I will stay with him forever.

Sometimes, it is not the uniforms but the people who cannot grasp that they are in my territory, and they are rude to me, the queen. It was easier a long time ago when the Fisher King was still present. We were young then, and the hills around the lake were not laden with so many houses and buildings. There were fewer cars and fewer people, and it was a kinder place. That was many decades ago by the people’s time. All those people are gone, as is my Fisher King, but he was once mighty and kind, and he protected me. Even these wayfarers who never knew him recognize my sovereignty, and so they protect me while they honor me. I have not been taken to that building without windows, the cages, the unusual food, the place far removed from this lake. Sometimes, a representative of the people comes to talk to me, asking intrusive questions about where I sleep, what I eat, and if I am safe among all these men. I let them know I have a place to sleep, I am well fed, and the wayfarers do not represent any danger to me. Sometimes, the representative of the people offers to take me to a place that is indoors with a bed and a bathroom and with food offered. I answer that their place is not my queendom and that my life is here where I have been since before they were born, and I will be here long after they are gone. They look at me with pity because they think I am lying, they think I am delusional, but they do not know. I am safe, and I am sure that I am where I am supposed to be. If I leave, I will not last the many decades still ahead of me. That’s what happened to my Fisher King. He allowed himself to be removed from his kingdom, and his long, long life was shortened, and he died. He also died of heartbreak because we were separated. I know this. He contacted me. Briefly, after he died. So he could tell me what happened to him and warned me from making the same mistake. This was very sad. He was here at the park long, long ago when the city of angels was just dirt roads and scattered buildings.

Once, when we were young, much younger than today, the Fisher King and I talked about having babies, having a prince and a princess, and that is when he told me. His sad story. His sad truth.

I am unable to make babies, he said. I was wounded as a young man, and I was rendered impotent. I am sorry, my dear; I know you would be a wonderful mother to a prince and a princess. There is only one way to change my life.

What is that, I asked. Perhaps I can help.

He sighed deeply in a way I had never seen. It is impossible. I have to find the Holy Grail, and I must return it to my king.

We can look for it together. This is the city of angels. There is everything in the world in this city, and surely the Holy Grail – whatever that is – is here somewhere.

Alas, no, my sweet. It is in the far lands. Where I came from, it was there or even farther. To the east of my island. Its location is not known, and many heroic men have traveled far and wide in search of it. Many have lost their lives, or come back maimed or disheartened. It is an impossible task, especially for me, as I was exiled to this place, this city of angels. He laughed. A city with not a single angel in it.

I had never seen him so discouraged and sad. I did not like to see him this way, and if this was an impossible task, then I would help him erase it from his mind. No sense in concentrating on the impossible. I knew this well. Before I became the Fisher Queen, before I became a young woman, I was a girl who lived with brutal people. I wanted to change them; I wanted them to value me, but this, too, was impossible. So I left them, and I have done my best to forget them. Perhaps I could help my king.

So I said to him, my dearest king, we are happy, you and I, since we found each other. We have built your kingdom here at this beautiful lake. We do not need princes or princesses as long as we have each other. This satisfied him then, and this satisfied him for years, up until the day came when those men and women with clipboards and kind smiles and evil intent took him to a place that they claimed was a better place, and it was one of his days when he was confused. Sometimes he got like that, more and more often, forgetting things, forgetting the name of this wayfarer or that one, and a few times forgetting me, but with a gentle nudge, he remembered his queen. Until that day, when he did not remember me. I saw those people coming, and I pulled at my King to go hide with me, but he suddenly did not know me, and he was smitten by their smiles. I had backed far away, not willing to hear their offer. One woman tried to follow me, but I snarled, and she went away.

The wayfarers came to warn me. The blue uniform people and the clipboard people were coming to take over my queendom. They were bringing machines that would scoop up the living quarters of every wayfarer, scoop up their belongings, take everything away. I asked some wayfarers to battle with me against this attack but they were scared. Several bowed to me and offered their apologies. Several told me I must leave or I too will be taken to a room like a box where I will waste away.

There was one safe place for me to hide. The lake was cold but not unbearable, and if I swam to the middle, my lake would hold me, and the people could not reach me. I could swim away from swan boats. My lake was so faithful; it did not appeal to the blue uniforms or the clipboard people who did not want to swim toward me. They would not catch me. Yet I had to watch as they chased some wayfarers and hurled them to the ground, while others meekly gave up and all were delivered into buses to be taken away from my queendom. Then, all the belongings were put into big trucks and hauled away. My subjects were gone. My queendom was decimated.

I am sorry. This makes me very sad. I am going to visit my husband, the Mad Hatter. I may be a while.