Chapter 2

So I lived all alone, without anyone I could really talk to, until I had to make a crash landing in the Sahara Desert two years ago. Something in my plane's engine had broken, and since I had neither a mechanic nor passengers in the plane with me, I was preparing to undertake the difficult repair job myself. For me it was a matter of life or death: I had only enough drinking water for eight days.

The first night, I went to sleep on the sand a thousand miles from any inhabited country. I was more isolated than a man clinging to an iceberg in the middle of the ocean. So you can imagine my surprise when I was awakened at daybreak by a funny little voice saying, "Please…tell me a story…about a Graske."

"What?"

"Tell me a story about a Graske…"

I leapt up as if I had been struck by lightning. I rubbed my eyes hard. I stared. And I saw an extraordinary little fellow staring back at me very seriously. He had a mess of flaming red hair and freckled skin. He wore a long red coat embroidered with gold, that seemed far too hot for the desert. His most astonishing feature was his intelligent blue eyes that seemed many lifetimes older than he.

So I stared wide-eyed at this apparition. Don't forget that I was a thousand miles from any inhabited territory. Yet this little fellow seemed to be neither lost nor dying of exhaustion, hunger, or thirst; nor did he seem scared to death. There was nothing in his appearance that suggested a child lost in the middle of the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited territory.

When I finally managed to speak, I asked him,"But…what are you doing here?"

And then he repeated, very slowly and very seriously, "Please…a story…"

In the face of an overpowering mystery and those piercing eyes, you don't dare disobey. Absurd as it seemed, a thousand miles from all inhabited regions and in danger of death, I took a pen and notepad out from my pocket. But then, I remembered that I had only written academic essays, summaries, and articles; absolutely nothing fiction. I told the little fellow (rather crossly) that I couldn't come up with a story.

He replied,"That doesn't matter. Tell me a story about a Graske."

Since I had no idea of what a Graske was supposed to be, I began to tell him my first ten-page story. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow answer:

"No! No! I've heard this one before. It's not about a Graske at all, and frankly a Graske would just ruin that perfectly good story. Now come on, tell me about a Graske…mischievous creatures…"

I stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of what to say. How could he possibly know what my ten-page story was about? He matched my stare with a look of expectance. He didn't seem to be lying, so I relented and began writing on my notepad.

Once upon a time, there was a mischievous Graske who got into all sorts of trouble. He was a tall gangly creature with yellow eyes-

He read over my shoulder, but cut me off at this point.

"No Graskes are short, stocky creatures with beady eyes. The mischievous part was good though."

I sighed and tried again to imagine a creature that didn't exist.

He was a short, stocky creature with beady eyes. His head was strangely shaped, like a starfish, and he had blue skin.

My friend gave me a kind, indulgent smile after tapping me on the shoulder.

"Hold on. You're close, but you're actually describing a Groske now…'cause it's blue…"

I tore the page out, crumpling it, and started over.

In a land not so very far away, lived a mischievous creature called a Graske. I chanced upon the short, stocky creature during my travels. His plan was to seek the holy grail. However, I politely informed him that the treasure did not exist, not at least in my experience. So, he left me with his head drooping, back to his house where he lived in solitude for the rest of his days.

The little fellow frowned.

"How very lonely. There are already enough sad endings in the universe…How about a Graske who finds something even better than treasure."

So then, impatiently, since I was in a hurry to start work on my engine, I scrawled the shortest story I could possibly think of at the time.

There was once an odd Graske who was not greedy or mischievous at all. All he wanted was to find a friend who appreciated his drawings. With no luck, he sat at his stall, day in and day out, waiting for someone to spare a glance at his drawings. One day, there was a strange man in a bow-tie who happened across the Graske's stall of drawings. He picked one up, studied it, and announced, "This is the most dynamic painting I've ever seen. Could I buy it?"

The Graske was so overcome with joy at the offer that he let the odd man take it for free. From that point on, the Graske had more business than he could keep up with. However, when his friend came to visit, he would always find time to draw something just for him, in gratitude. And that's how the Graske and the man became friends.

But I was amazed to see my young critic's face light up. "That's just the story I wanted! You know I used to wear a bow-tie!"

"Really?"

"Yes! I've also worn a fez, trainers, glasses, a leather jacket, celery, the Beatles' haircut, a multi-color coat, a cane, a Victorian costume, and a very long scarf. Now I wear this robe. What do you think?"

"Well," I answered truthfully, "seems a bit hot for the desert."

"Oh, it's not bad." He then had a distant look in his eyes. "It reminds me of home."

"As long as you're comfortable then…"

The fire-head child flashed a small smile in my direction, then looked back at the story I had written for him.

"I'd like to meet this Graske, after I find my ship…my name's the Doctor by the way."

And that's how I made the acquaintance of the Little Doctor.

Thanks for reading!

~Nyanora