The Third Doctor
In the deep darkness of the room, the clock ticked its incessant counting of the seconds, a dismal sound to someone who did not want daylight to come. The shadows of the furniture in the room seemed to have their own expressions and features, and none of them appeared kind. Perhaps it was my imagination. That was always quite the likelihood. Imagination – a blessing, a curse, a win, and a loss. I do not know when it last benefited me, except to bring heartache and what could be but never was.
Life just wasn't fair, you know. Some people got to live the happy lives. Some people got the kind of life that leaves you clinging to each ragged day by a fingernail, hoping upon hope that the wind of chance doesn't blow you out completely, like a candle in a drafty room. You dance, and dance, and dance, every second appearing to be the very last.
Outside the open bedroom window, I could hear crickets chirping and the little frogs singing their little songs into the night air. I should have been asleep, but the events of the day left so much information swirling in my mind that I was not quite sure what to do with it all. No one bothered explaining it in detail. Adults just insisted that children somehow, in an unspoken rule, just accept that adults knew what everything was on about. Children were to simply be good with it and not ask questions. Apparently asking questions indicated some type of disbelief that the elders knew what they were doing, or at least an impetuous resolve to know more than the adults felt was necessary to know. There was no one to ask my questions, so my mind tried to put order to it all as much as I could. It was not a successful task at all.
In the distance, a strange grinding sound caught my attention and I sat up. It sounded like a loud engine of some kind. It was not unusual to hear semis climbing the mountain road next to our small acreage. But at this time of night, it was not a normal occurrence. Some poor chap working the night shift perhaps, but my child mind simply dismissed it as one of those strange things that adults are capable of. The sound faded, and I assumed he had made it over the grade and continued his pre-determined journey.
I crept from the tall bed, trying not to wake my sisters, my short legs finding their footing on the spiral braided rug below. Bare feet pattered across the linoleum as I made my way to the lone window, cracked slightly to let the night air seep into the stuffy room. Resting my elbows on the peeling white windowpane, I gazed up at the myriad of stars rising above the mountains surrounding the yard that shone pale in the moonlight. A twinkling speck blinked and streaked across the sky, its luminous tail flashing and disappearing in a split second. I closed my eyes and let myself dare to wish. If only there was someone who could answer my swirling questions. Someone that actually cared whether my young brain understood the long words or not.
"I say, my dear, have you got a screwdriver handy?"
A white curly head popped up above the windowsill, curious white eyebrows raised over old, blue eyes. My own eyes flew open, growing wide in surprise, and I took a startled step backward into the room. Curiosity swallowed my fear, and I considered that maybe wishing stars were a real thing after all.
"Don't be frightened, child," he spoke quickly, his eyebrows raised in a kind smile. "I mean no harm to you."
Somehow, in my heart, I knew he was telling the truth.
"You said you need a screwdriver?" I asked quietly, studying the strange man. His face was round, and kind, and lines shaped his skin as if he was ages old.
"If you happen to know where one is immediately, yes, please." He responded in a soft-spoken tone. He held up a hand. "But quietly, if you will." I nodded in agreement, then turned and ran quickly from the room, returning in half a minute with a yellow-handled screwdriver grasped tightly in my grasp.
He held up a hand again as I reached him, cautioning, "Ah, ah, no running with sharp objects, my dear. That would be just a terrible occurrence if you tripped over your feet. Here, let me see what you have brought me, there's a good girl."
I politely handed him the tool he had asked for and leaned my elbows on the windowsill, watching his funny eyes examine it. He seemed pleased with what I had brought to him. I noted the frilly sleeves and shirt that he wore, covered by a beautiful velvet coat, with a purple cape thrown back cheekily over his left shoulder. He looked like someone in a movie from a long, long time ago.
"You look like George Washington." I observed aloud, propping my chin in a small hand.
He looked up from his examination of the screwdriver and smiled cheerily. "You really think so? I'm not, child, but what a brilliant chap he was and what a clever observation from you."
My eyes grew wide again. "You knew George Washington?!" From his vantage point, he could surely see the admiration and excitement that now shone in the brown eyes that looked up at him.
For a moment he considered me solemnly. At first, I was not sure he would acknowledge his statement. Like a typical adult he would probably brush it off. But then he smiled again. "I knew him, many years back. Have you read of him in your schoolbooks, child?"
"No, sir." I replied, dismally. "I can't read that well yet. But I have seen his picture on some of our money. My Grandpa says he was a war hero or something a long time ago."
The strange man withdrew an odd, long contraption from his pocket, something that looked like a small stick, and he held it up next to the screwdriver. "Yes, yes I suppose he was. Brave man, he was for sure. Now, if you don't mind, my dear, I need to do something very, very important. Off to bed with you now, I will bring the screwdriver back when I am quite finished."
"Could I come watch you?" I asked eagerly, smiling up at him. "Please? My dad always let me help him with stuff." As soon as the words left my mouth, a wave of sadness washed over me, and the light in my eyes went dim. He apparently noticed this change and pursed his lips in thought for a moment. Pocketing both his strange stick and my screwdriver, he held out both hands toward the window.
"Alright, out you come then." He spoke in a cheerful tone.
My eyebrows flew upward. "You're going to let me help you?" I asked incredulously.
He cocked his head to one side. "Would you rather go back to bed?" He asked patiently, raising his eyebrows in question.
"No, sir!" I exclaimed, smiling broadly. He nodded once and reached a little closer. "Very well then, come on. Swing your legs over there, good girl. I'll catch you, I promise."
So I reached out to grasp his hands, warm and soft in my own small cold ones. He pulled me through the window opening with great caution and set my feet carefully on the grassy ground. I straightened my nightgown and looked up at the tall, broad shouldered man. He smiled gently down at me and reached out a hand. I let him take my hand in his again, and he began to walk into the darkness behind our house.
"Oh, forgot one thing," he mumbled to himself. Taking his stick object from his pocket again, he pointed it at my window and a green light at the end glowed into the darkness. A strange bussing noise met my ears and he nodded in satisfaction. Dropping it into his pocket again, he began to walk.
"What was that? What did you do?" I asked curiously, skipping along beside him and trying to look up at his face in the darkness. I could barely make out the chiseled jaw and the massive fluff of white hair. He seemed quite like a giant to me, his firm hand comfortingly steady as we began to climb the hillside behind my family's small house.
"Just a time bubble, my dear. Mere seconds will have passed by the time I return you safe to your room."
I studied the dark path before us for a moment before responding. "So you're a magician then, are you?"
He stopped walking and smiled down at me, his face a vague shadow in the night. "Something like that. Now do come along."
The grass beneath my feet soon gave way to stubble and leaves. The crunching of the forest underfoot had a lulling sound, combined with our resident owl, and a small piece of me wished I was curled up warmly in my bed. The day had been eventful, and I was actually very tired.
"Ah, here we are!" The jolly voice of the giant man broke through my thoughts and I looked up to see where we were. Before us, on the side of the mountain, sat a tall royal blue shed-like building sitting in the trees. "I've come back to you, old girl. Will have you right as rain in a moment."
I gazed up at the structure, noting the letters glowing in the night at the top. "Mister, what does that say up there?"
He was digging in his pocket again and I expected him to pull out his strange contraption, but instead he simply pulled out a key on a ribbon. He fitted it into the door as he spoke. "Ah, my dear, that says POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. It's a phone box to call for help. Cloaking device really. Chameleon circuit got stuck a while back and I haven't fixed it yet. Don't think I will. I rather like it, don't you?"
Somehow, I found that I did. It was cool. And not many things did I find 'cool' at this age. "Yeah." I replied firmly. He gave me that kind smile again and pushed open the door of his box. "Come on in if you like."
I hesitated just for a moment, all my common sense and words from my parents ringing in my ears about walking off with total strangers. Somehow, after all their arguing between themselves and the fact that they were gone from my life living on without me, I couldn't find it within myself to care about their advice at all. Obviously, they didn't care about their own either. Giving him a brave smile, I followed him into the strange police box.
The room I stepped into was large and white. The tall walls were covered with large, circular indentations. It looked cold and uninviting, yet warm and alive, all at once. The strange man was busily working away at the center of the room where a small column of light rose above the many controls. I tiptoed closer to the array of instruments, trying to comprehend what I was seeing.
"It's – smaller - on the outside." I commented, eyeing the console of buttons that he was studying with great interest.
"Ah, yes." He nodded happily in my direction. "Yes, it is. Welcome to the TARDIS, my dear, also known as Time and Relative Dimension in Space."
"So you're an astronaut then?" I asked, looking around the strange room again, turning in a complete circle.
I missed the incredulous look on his face at my comment, but I heard his friendly chuckle. "Something like that. There. All fixed." He closed a panel on the console and tucked my screwdriver into his pocket. "Now then, let's get you sorted out, shall we?"
He walked around the console to where I stood, and for a moment, a flash of fear crossed my face. I didn't really know if he was safe or not. Why had I just followed him into his bigger on the inside spaceship? What if he kidnapped me and never brought me back? What would become of me?
I took a few quick steps back and he hesitated. His eyes were sad but gentle when he spoke.
"Come, my dear, I am not going to hurt you. I promise you that with both my hearts.
"You have two hearts?" I eyed him cautiously.
He nodded. "I definitely do."
I frowned at him. Bigger on the inside box, man from space, two hearts. Fairytale. "Why are you here?"
He carefully unbuttoned his cape and in one motion had wrapped it around my shoulders. I had not realized how cold I had become in my nightgown, but somehow he had picked up on my internal shivering. I was grateful for the warmth and clutched the silky material in both hands, pulling it close.
"Well, you wished on the star, didn't you?" He asked simply. I raised my eyebrows.
"So that actually works?"
He chuckled. "Of course it does. Some wishes take longer than others, so it doesn't always happen how we want it, not right away. But this wish was so important to the star that me and the Tardis heard it too. So we took over for the star, since he was busy with all the wishes, and came on down to personally assist. The Tardis, she needed a bit of a tune up, so that's why I needed the screwdriver. Seemed a good time to get it done."
I looked into his eyes for a moment and saw genuine kindness there. "Okay, I believe you."
He smiled bemusedly and nodded. "Well, that's a relief, I must say. So first things first, what is your name, child?" He held out a hand and I took it in mine, hoping he wouldn't notice that they were still shaking nervously.
I didn't know what else to do so I sat down, the console of the strange box at my back, and he sat down next to me, crossing his ankles and leaning back against the metal column.
"My name is Renea." I replied tiredly, resigned to my fate. I couldn't quite just run out of the strange box into the night. I didn't know which way was back. "What's your name?" I asked in return.
"I'm the Doctor." He replied brightly. I frowned.
"Don't you have to have an actual name? It can't be just Doctor. Doctor who?"
His eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled again. "No, it's really just The Doctor. That's my name."
I nodded, but still not understanding. So I was stuck in a strange blue box, bigger on the inside, and with a man who had no name, somehow knew what my wish was, and yet, here I was traipsing all over the hillside with him, in the dark, at night, and no one knew I was gone. Smart.
"You are safe, Renea." He spoke softly, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked up at him in confusion.
"Doctor, how did you know I was scared?" I was surprised how easily his name rolled off my tongue, as if I had called him that for years. It was a strange feeling.
"I am different than other people," he replied gently. "I can sense your thoughts, your feelings through your skin. I'm holding your hand. It's sort of a spaceman thing, my dear. And you really are awfully frightened. But not just of me, are you? There are other things. Things you wanted someone to explain for you, that you don't understand. That's why you wished on the star isn't it?"
I nodded mutely, looking away from the kind eyes, pretending to study the circular pattern on the walls, and wondering why I thought this was a good idea. I never talked about my feelings. Adults just never listened, and there was only so much you could tell the dog.
"I can try to help, if you let me." He responded, pulling his long legs up to his chin and releasing my hand to wrap his arms around them. It was such a childish thing to do, that I forgot my fears for a moment.
"You see, it's my mom and dad." I blurted out. "They've split up. Dad's just gone; I don't know where he is. Mom decided to do her own thing, and I'm supposed to be adopted now. What does that mean? Why can't mom and dad just get along and make it work?"
His brow furrowed and he studied the ceiling for a moment. At first, I thought he wasn't going to speak. The engines of the police box whirred gently, and for a moment, I almost thought it was talking. He nodded to himself and turned to face me.
"Renea, there are a whole lot of bad things that can happen to a person. Sometimes moms and dads make awful mistakes. Everyone is capable of mistakes. You'll make a few yourself one day. But the thing you've got to remember is this." He took both of my hands in his again, and his face became serious and stern. "No matter what anyone does that is unkind or cruel or simply something you don't understand, always remember to be kind. Don't let it eat at you or shape you or mold you like them. Just remember what it feels like to hurt and cry so deeply. Then offer that comfort that you desire in your own heart to someone else that is hurting. And each time you pass it along, you will be stronger. The pain will still be there, but it will be something that is your companion, not your ruler. Does that make sense?"
I considered for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Good." He smiled. "I have to go now, Renea. I hope you understand. There are other wishes to deliver tonight." He carefully stood, as if he were old and creaky, and he held out a hand to help me up. I took it and tapped his arm.
"Can't I go away with you?" I asked hopefully, looking into those blue eyes. He tilted his head a bit and gazed down at me.
"Some day when you are a little bigger, Renea. Someday, I will come back to you. Until then be very good, and be very kind."
"I promise." I nodded, looking up at him. "I will, Doctor. Boy, what will my sisters say when I tell them about you! You're so cool. I'm glad you came to talk to me."
He looked down at me and smiled, but his smile was sad. "You are very welcome, Renea. Let's get you back to your home, now, shall we?"
The Tardis purred gently as we exited her doors, and I noted the way the Doctor patted her wood as we left, as if communicating to it.
"Is it alive?" I asked as we made our way back down the mountainside. I was grateful he knew where we were going, since I could not make out anything in the dark.
"Yes," he replied absentmindedly. "She is alive. My best friend. Always there for me."
"Like you will be for me." I replied happily. "I will always think of you out there in space, and you'll be my best friend."
I did not see the sadness that crossed his face at these words. "Thank you, Renea," he replied with a forced cheerfulness that I did not notice in my childish happiness at seeing the lights of home in the little valley.
We reached my bedroom window, and he helped me inside, his hands strong. I turned to say goodbye, only to find him climbing inside too. "You're coming in?"
He nodded and smiled. "Don't worry, Renea. The time bubble will allow me to be in and out before anyone notices me."
I smiled, suddenly very tired, and climbed into my bed. "Thanks for coming, Doctor."
He crossed the room to my bedside and tossed his cape over his shoulder, then leaning to pull the covers up to my chin.
"I had a nice time too, Renea. Promise me this, my dear."
I blinked up at him, sleep beginning to carry me away, and yawned. "Sure, Doctor, what?"
He reached toward me, his eyes suddenly sad. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you always stay hopeful."
I nodded once. "I promise."
His fingers gently touched my head, and immediately I fell asleep.
The next morning, I awoke to find a yellow handled screwdriver next to my pillow. Sunlight streamed through our window, and I jumped from my bed, running to the kitchen. "Grandma, why is this next to me in bed?"
My grandma turned from the stove and frowned at me. "I have no idea, sweetheart. You probably were sleepwalking again. Put it away now, breakfast is almost ready."
"Okay." I tossed the screwdriver into the drawer by the sink and walked back to my bedroom. My sisters were up and awake by now, and we set about getting out room organized and ready for the day. As I began to put our pillows in their right place on the bed, one of my sisters sniffled.
"You okay, Rosa?"
She nodded silently and sat down on the bed. Frowning, I moved to sit next to her.
"Hey, you ok?"
She looked up at me, my littlest sister, and a big tear ran down her cheek. "Renea, are mom and dad ever coming back?"
I sighed and put my arm around her. "I don't know, Rosa. But I can promise you this. No matter what, you'll always have me."
"Thanks, Renea. Do you think we will ever see them again?"
I looked off into the distance, something nudging my thoughts. As if from a dream, I heard a gentle voice in my head.
'No matter what happens, stay hopeful.'
"Rosa, I think somewhere - down the road - there are good things ahead."
Will the Doctor come back for her?
Please read and review, it means a lot
I do not own any characters, I just try to return them mostly unharmed.
As the Doctor would say, try to be nice, always be kind!