Sketches Upon the Childhood of Sherlock Holmes--The Beginning of The Game

By: Heavenly Awkward

Holmes commented once that he possessed all the energy of the family. It always seemed to me that he also possessed the greater amount of the curiosity. Thinking on this, it strikes me as likely that, in the Holmes brothers' childhood, Sherlock was probably the first to start their little game of observation, for it probably started as a game. Naturally, The Game would begin with watching people in crowds. But what crowds would show up enough in the life of two young upper middle-class boys that they would think to make a game of watching them? Why, parties, of course!
.

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"Mycroft? Hey, Mycroft! Come here!"

Mycroft sighed and closed his book. "Mother'll be mad if she hears you using that word again."

"But mum isn't here right now, she's down with all those fancy people."

"What did you want me for?"

"I want you to watch the people with me!"

"Sherlock..."

"No, really! Look, do you see that lady, right there?" Sherlock leaned over the banister and pointed a little six-year-old finger at a young woman. She had an oval face and smooth honey-brown hair. She was just coming in. She smiled at the two of them. "I bet she's like our mother was, really nice and all!"

"What makes you think that?"

"But I think she was! Look, she dresses like mother did, all pretty and bright!" The woman's dress was elegant, though very simple, scarlet, with white lace and gold trim. The color was very vivid. She was very beautiful. Mycroft looked thoughtful.

"I bet she likes dogs and horses and cats and gives out cookies and wears a skeleton key around her neck, just like mama did!"

"You don't know that, just by looking at her!" Mycroft said, like Sherlock was being silly, and didn't correct his brother's run-on sentence.

"Yes I do!"

"Prove it to me then!"

"I can't."

"Hah."

"Alright then, tell me about that man!"

"Which one?"

"That one, the one that looks like a dwarf!"

"The old short man with the brown hair?"

"Yeah!"

"He's careless, hurried, and doesn't like parties much."

"You forgot the chocolate!"

"What?"

"He's eating so much chocolate!"

"Oh yes. He loves chocolate."

"And he's rich!"

"How do you know that?"

"Only rich people can get a lot of chocolate. And his clothes are nice."

Mycroft looked at Sherlock. He hadn't thought of that. Smart. "He doesn't seem to like the clothes, though." Then he got an idea. "Maybe someone else buys them for him."

"And makes him come to the parties! I bet it's his wife."

"Or some other woman."

"Why would it be another woman?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"Why just then?"

"Sherlock..."

"Hey, I wonder what that man is doing talking to mum!"

"The tall one?"

"Mm-hm, the one who looks polite!"

"Polite is a way you act, not a way you look."

"Well, he looks polite. Like... Like a gentleman!"

"Look, he's calling over that woman from earlier!"

"The one that's like mama?"

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do!"

"How, then?"

"Well, she smiled at us, so she had to be nice."

"People who smile aren't always nice."

"But she looked like she meant it! And I saw a key around her neck when she took off her cloak, and she smelled a little like Gabriel did when she passed."

"Oh. You think she has a dog like Gabriel was?"

"Yeah!"

Mycroft scowled at the woman for a moment. "What about the cookies?"

"Well... Mama made cookies."

Mycroft smiled, then scowled again.

"She smelled a little like mama did, too."

"Oh."

"The same sort of perfume."

"Oh."

Not to be outdone, Mycroft looked at the pretty woman and polite man. "They know each other."

"Uh-huh."

"They're brother and sister."

"What! How do you know that?"

"Well, they don't look like they're married to each other..."

"They don't act like mama and papa did together."

"Yeah. But they know each other. And they act a little like mother and her brother Augustus do together."

Sherlock nodded, remembering with Mycroft their step-uncle Augustus. "And the man."

"What about him?"

"He looks like papa did when mama died, before she came."

Mycroft knew already who "she" was. The one who hosted all these parties. "I wonder what they're talking about?"

"We can always ask."

"Yeah."

"Does mother know them?"

"Look, papa's coming over to them!"

"Does he know them?"

"You ask too many questions."

"I can't help it, I want to know."

"Mother's looking at us."

"Uh-oh. My bedtime. You know, I think it's funner to watch people with someone else to talk to about it."

"Me too."

"How can you know, you've never done it before..."

.
"Mum, who was that short little man with the pushy wife? The one who likes chocolates so much?"

The fair-haired woman started a little in surprise, big blue eyes blinking. "Why, that was Mr. Porlock."

"What a funny name."

"How did you know about his wife? Have you been listening to the maids gossiping?"

"No, we just watched him and decided that his wife made him come."

"We?"

"Me and Mycroft."

"Ah. Well, you were right. Mrs. Porlock is quite the socialite," she said, smiling.

"What's a socialite?"

"It's someone who cares a lot about her friends, and has a lot of them."

"Like you?"

She laughed. "A little, yes, I am. I do love my friends."

"And what about the tall, polite man and his sister, who's so pretty and has a dog?"

"How do you...? Well, well, I do find myself with an observant son, don't I? Don't do too much of that, or people will think you're nosy."

"Well, who are they?"

"They're going to be yours and Mycroft's new tutors."

"Ohhh."

"Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Mum?"

"Yes?"

"Uh... I've been trying out calling you "mother" and "mum" for all while you've been here, but... Well, I don't think I like it."

"Ah, you just want to keep "mother" for your real mother, hm?" She looked a little sad.

"Yeah."

"Well then, you can call me Gail, if you want."

"Thanks."

"Your welcome. Now good night, Sherlock."

"Goodnight, Gail." Sherlock rolled over. "Oohhhh. Hm-hm." He smiled, because they had been right.