"Who's that man, Rach?" Ethan asked me, his lovely brown eyes just peeking over the white picket fence enclosing our yard, whereas mine cleared the top perfectly well. He liked to think himself the hero, no matter what game we played, but at times like these, he knew I was really in charge. He was 10, and had a way of looking all innocent like, so it was usually someone else who got blamed for whatever crime he had committed.
"He looks funny," Danny remarked, her small rounded nose wrinkling in disgust. She had one sky blue eye peering through a small hole in the whitewashed wood. Her blonde curls were hopelessly mussed, the ends stained with dirt. Danny was short for Danielle, a name she professed to hate, though I always thought it lovely. That girl could never keep clean, but that didn't stop Mum and the rest of us from trying. She was prone to being ambushed by the rest of us armed with a garden hose.
"I think he looks sad. Just look at his suit, it's all tattered, the poor dear." Marie said quietly, her voice was never more than a whisper. "Poor dear" was her favorite term of endearment. Most adults found it comical to hear coming from a 9 year old child, but I knew she really meant it. She was a real mother hen if there ever was one, though we always made her be the damsel in distress, because she wasn't much good for anything else. She was looking through a small slit between the boards.
"Lift me up! Lift me up! I can't see him!" Colin cried, jumping in a vain attempt to see over the fence. Although he was not the youngest (being older than Danny by 10 minutes, so only barely older) he was definitely the smallest, a fact he constantly protested. He was like one of those little chiwawas, always thinking himself bigger and tougher than he actually was. For this reason he played an excellent pirate captain.
"Alright, alright, keep your shirt on," I told him, taking my eyes off the man in the indeed tattered suit to lift Colin up a little ways so his eyes were about level with Ethan's. Lord knows I couldn't wait for the day he'd be able to see over the fence for himself; Colin was a heavy 8-year-old and it was just pure luck I was strong for being an 11-year-old girl.
He watched us, the man did, and we watched him back. He just stood there, on the corner of Dower and Lenning, watching us. He watched us play, watches us eat, and maybe even watched us sleep for all I knew. He never moved from that spot under the faded red stop sign, hopelessly graffitied with a black marker. But the fact he never moved from his post where he watched us wasn't the weird part. No, the weird part was this: we were the only ones who noticed him.
Mum thought he was just another of our made up stories, and I don't blame her, looking back on it, as we did make up rather a lot of them. But this man was real. Possibly the most real thing in the universe. Maybe that's why we were never scared of him, because he seemed like one of our stories come to life. It made us trust him without even knowing him.
"Kids! Hey, you lot! Dinner time!" came Mum's call from the small kitchen window, its yellow curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. Her voice was as sweet and melodic as a thousand symphonies. There was no better voice on Blume Street, our street, and though she might not have thought it a claim to fame, it was good enough for me.
"Coming!" I called back, replacing Colin on the ground where he belonged and herding the others towards the door. It wasn't an easy task as they were an energetic bunch and liked to run, but after claiming the stump in the middle of the yard as my kingdom (I was Queen of the Stump from then on, as none of them would challenge me, even in play), they all gave up and went inside.
Before stepping through the doorway myself, I looked back at the man, and was astonished to find something I was surprised to find had surprised me: he had moved. Just a step closer to the house, his eyes locked with mine, and a knowing smile stretched across his features. I blinked, and when my eyes reopened, he was still there. It was strange, I had been beginning to sympathize with my mother's theories that he was just pretend, but I hadn't realized it until that moment when it occurred to me he was really there. He tipped me a wink, and that's when I stepped inside, slamming the door swiftly behind me. My heart hammered in my chest, but I wasn't scared, just the opposite, in fact. I felt exhilarated.
And why shouldn't I? I didn't know it then, but I do now. That was the first day that I really met the Doctor. We might not have exchanged any words, but that's okay. We didn't have to. I just had this feeling, like something was going to happen, and I would play a part in it.
My name is Rachel Dunnet, and someday I would help save the world.