Okay Fuck It, I’m Just Posting Scenes as I write Them
Here’s another one for whoever but Ambergris I can keep mentioning you in the subtitle as a running gag if you also think that is funny
By all accounts, Harvey appeared the night after the Wizard Boy died. The theory was that all that attention had to go somewhere after the Expulsion, and so it had dumped into the ultra conversative Christian knock-off version. Except, that wasn’t quite all that had happened. The Wizard Boy had been adapted everywhere and all of those adaptations seemed to meld into Harvey, like a feeding frenzy of bacteria in which Harvey was merely the container of the consumed organisms. He was erotic fan-fiction, manga, random blog entries and fan-theories as much as he was conservative. He was everything people paid attention to, war, porn, religion except turned up to the extreme. One day he’d barely been a wraith, an insubstantial shape in the Periphery proselytizing against the evils of witchcraft, the next Harvey Kettle strolled out of the Periphery with a crucifix-shaped scar on his forehead, face in full drag queen make-up, and holding the only fully automatic rifle in all of Imagination.
The C’s had arrived the day the Wizard Boy died, the Void shutting fast around the school as he died, and it was common belief that Harvey was in some way their spawn. That all three were somehow, ineffably linked. When Harvey spoke, he spoke with the voice of the C’s. And when he was enraged the void trembled.
And now he was waiting for me in my Shelf.
Watson led me through the twisting corridors of the Child Detectives dormitory at a slow pace. We passed all kinds of paintings with the eyes cut out and bookshelves and candelabras waiting to be tugged in just the right way to open up a secret passage. We navigated through several, on autopilot, trying to take a scenic route. You could keep Harvey waiting for a bit, but you’d always eventually have to speak to him if he wanted you. Bad things happened to those who delayed too long.
It was a long while before I dared to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Watson. There was nothing we could do. He went quick,” I whispered.
The young doctor didn’t turn, only hummed, rubbing his earlobe, seeming to be utterly distracted.
“What? Oh yes. Quite quickly I expect. Yes, quite.”
“There’s something else you have to know. He saved another character. A Main. We don’t know the name yet but she’s brand new and self-published. We shelved her way out in the Periphery and Huck is looking after her while she gathers up more Spark. She was almost solid when I left. I think she might get Popular. We’ve never had a Popular Self-Published Main before. It might help.”
“Oh quite interesting. Incredible work on your part, Aliss. Simply exceptional,” but he was distracted still, I could tell.
I put my hands to my lips to remove a toothpick that wasn’t there, realizing how very little I wanted to say what I had to say next. Except this was the end of the day and my character arc was all about accountability.
“I should never have left him alone, Watson. I knew how bad he was hurting. I should have known better.”
We reached a fork in the hallway and Watson spun around. His eyes were red and his face was the face of a boy suddenly orphaned. It was only then that I realized he hadn’t faced me for more than those first few moments after entering the dorm.
“I should have been the one to hold him back!” He screamed, and the force of it was enough that drops of his spittle flew in my face. “I was there with him from the start! Always Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. Our names written side by side, me there to explain him to the rest of the world, to contain him and help him fit. It was my fault. I should have been there. It was my duty.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. They’d been together for over a hundred years. Lived for millions in the minds of their readers. And now one half of the dynamic duo… just gone.
Still red-faced, Watson snarled.
“He died once before you know. Our own author tried to throw him off a cliff. I didn’t blame him for it. Authors are so cruel to their creations and Arthur was no exception. Nothing like a good parent at all. But it didn’t stick, you see! They loved him enough that they rioted. He couldn’t go anywhere until he undid it. They demanded Sherlock be brought back. It’ll happen that way again. Mark my words. Sherlock Holmes will walk these halls again!”
Except of course he wouldn’t be sobbing so hard his whole chest was heaving if he actually believed it. I reached out to wrap my arms around him. If there was anything left of Imagination beyond the Periphery it was probably full of video games and movies. Most people didn’t read anymore and the ones that did were almost all cowards. I tried not to think of the dust that stained my clothes from our touch.
We all knew what happened to Supporting characters when their Mains died. It was happening to all the characters from the Wizard Boy’s world as well, if more slowly. We tried not to talk about it. Watson might last for years yet.
“If anyone can do it, he will. He was practically an archetype. Sexy Dracula called him Odysseus this morning.” No need to mention that Sherlock had denied it. “The shape of him has been around forever.”
I slipped Sherlock’s wallet into Watson’s pocket as I ended our embrace. I hadn’t had time to even look inside, let alone put something nice in there but maybe just the memento would be nice. And maybe having it would give Watson a little hope that Sherlock would return. Maybe that faith would keep him from crumbling into Dust.
I put my arm over my shoulder and we walked the rest of the way to my Shelf.
“They’ll get brave over this. This time. They will. Wait and see. I can feel it. Sherlock means too much to them. There will be riots like last time. They’ll riot for him.” Watson’s voice was a faint whisper.
At last we arrived at my door and I opened it to greet Harvey.
Okay Fuck It, I’m Just Posting Scenes as I write Them
OMG, Harvey’s crucifix scar had me chortling; was secretly hoping for that! Get out of my head!
Good luck with interminable meetings. Have a standing desk? Been increasing issues at urologists - think too much sitting is causing issues in prostate people.
Hahaha. Thank you. Fragrant Whale Barf works as well. Keep your soul safe. A piece surely lies in your little one’s heart.