Posted by BC on 3/6/2008, 4:11 pm, in reply to "Chapter two part one"
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Theodore opened his eyes to find two strange people bending over him, had it been anyone else he would have screamed, but at the sight of these two he knew he must have died and gone to heaven, to a wonderful place where ones dreams about the fictional world came true.
“You’re Sherlock Holmes right?” he said. Very calmly, his body was throbbing painfully but he supposed that that was natural when one had just died.
Holmes raised an eyebrow, but gave a little bow of his head “at your service, but I am afraid you have the advantage of me.”
“Theodore Trent” and then turning toward Watson “and you’re Dr. Watson…?”
“Yes indeed! How on earth did you know that?”
Heaven vanished before Theodore’s eyes, “we’re still on Earth! But, but I’m dead! He was panicking now, and he felt cold, what had happened to his sweater?
“Calm down my boy, there is no need to worry, I am sure we only want for a little explanation to set things strait” soothed Holmes, fixing Theodore with a pair of awe-inspiringly intelligent grayish-blue eyes that seemed to twinkle with curiosity and an inwardly playful spirit.
“Perhaps you could help us to understand how is it that you came to fall through our roof a few moments ago? Surely the door would have been a far less painful means of entry.”
For the first time Theodore gave his surroundings a good look, dust coated everything, shingles and splintered wood dominated the floor and large wooden beams from the ceiling had crashed down onto a handsome oak table that had been in the centre of the room but was now lying on it’s side in a pile of broken china.
“That was your roof!” he exclaimed.
“Indeed, so it would seem.”
Then it all came back “oh god-sh” he caught himself, remembering that it was probably three times as bad to swear here then at home “you were the last thing I thought of before I fell! You were what I was thinking of when they shot me!”
“They shot you!” Watson almost yelled in surprise
“I am afraid I will have to ask you to start from the beginning, Mr. Trent”
And so he told them, he told them about the two men, about his fall from the tree, his fight with his brother and about his traveling back in time. Holmes might have put all this nonsense down to a mental imbalance had it not been for the fact that they had actually seen him plummet through the roof, or at least heard an enormous ‘WHAM’ and been buried under the remains of what had at one time been their ceiling.
Theodore would not have told them about the fight between himself and his brother had Holmes not asked for every detail, apparently you never knew what might make one susceptible to time travel.
At last, it stuck midnight and Watson suggested they all get some sleep. So Theodore, with his newly set and bandaged arm, courtesy of Watson, and a pair of very lose pajamas also courtesy of Watson, Trundled off to the spare room. While Holmes slipped out the window in an amazing feat of acrobatics and climbed up the roof, draping a tarp over the hole.
Theodore could hear him up there, stepping deftly on shingle after shingle like a large cat, silently moving to the rhythm of some silent drumbeat.
He was in complete shock, this was a dream come true, to be around his two favorite people! To be given a chance that thousands would die for! All the same, something nagged at the back of his mind.
The book said that they were fictional characters; he remembered something Holmes had said, quietly to Watson when the Doctor had come back from his room carrying the pair of pajama’s Theodore was now wearing.
“I presume that you have indeed sent that story of yours to Dr. Doyle?”
Watson had nodded, Theodore supposed that the only explanation was that over time the two had become fictional, the stories accredited to another man unintentionally and Watson made a character himself,
He pushed the question as far from his mind as it would go and smiled, nothing could be better then existing here, now. It was like being made king for a day.
He quickly hid his grin as he felt a hand being placed gently on his Shoulder. Theodore turned to see Holmes, eyes a twinkle, looking at him enquiringly.
He too, seemed to have something on his mind, “is something the matter Mr. Holmes?” asked Theodore, and then blushing “I’m really sorry about the roof sir.”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Hudson is not one to blame children, especially if they can’t help accidentally almost killing themselves.”
Theodore felt considerably better “thank you sir” and then, because there seemed to be another question hanging, unsaid, in the air “is there anything else sir?”
“Yes…would you mind informing me of the title of the book which you used as a barricade against your attackers?”
“Oh, the book!”
And forgetting his manners, Theodore ran back to the mess in the middle of the sitting room and dug madly for a moment, finally unearthing the tattered and burned remains of his birthday present. It had taken twice as long as it should have to dig it out, as he only had the use of his left arm. He quickly hid what was left of the title; he really didn’t want Holmes to see it…
“May I Mr. Trent?”
He had no choice “Um…okay. I mean, certainly sir”
Holmes grinned “thank you” and taking it in hand he began to examine it intently.
A sudden thought occurred to Theodore, after all, now was the ideal time to ask Holmes his question of a few moments before, he found it surprising that he had not thought to enquire about it the moment he had first seen his two companions.
“Sir…” he began
“Yes?” Holmes prompted him distractedly, as he continued to peer down at the object in his hands.
“Sir…but that…um…what…What about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”
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