Prompt #36. 'Three Continents Watson.': We know that two of them are Europe and Asia. But what is the third, and why was Watson there? Tell us!
My head-canon 'verse has the Watson boys spending a year in Australia with their Uncle Hamish when John is about ten. This takes place within the first few weeks
"John, just what do you think you are doing?"
"Makin' a fort," I grunted, most of my attention on tugging the pile of blankets around the corner. Mother always said to use the older blankets for anything outside, but even worn coverings grew awkward when I wrestled a pile nearly as tall as me. I should have made Harry go for blankets while I chose a spot. He had already started to hit his growth.
Uncle Hamish's frown deepened. "Where?"
"Back o' the house." A hole in one corner caught the doorknob. "Would you get that?"
He easily freed the corner before the blanket could tear further. "Why are you building your fort outside?"
I peered around my bundle, trying to force a look of astonishment. "You want a blanket fort in the sitting room?"
"No," he admitted. I hid a grin in the top blanket as he added, "but I doubt there is a good place for it even behind the house. How to you plan to brace it?"
The vine stakes, but I knew better than to voice that. I shrugged instead. "That's Harry's job."
He let out a laugh. "Naturally. Stay near the house, you hear? The weather's right for another sandstorm, and those rags will do nothing if one hits."
A distracted wave acknowledged his words, though I avoided lying by not replying aloud. The vines started at the bottom of the hill. That qualified as "not far," and Hamish was right. We would never find a place closer. Harry and I were both hoping to sleep outside tonight.
Though we knew better than to ask permission. Hamish would never agree to us sleeping outside—something about acting like wildlife—but he might let us get away with it if we got everything set up before he discovered our plan. I stumbled my way down the hill to where Harry crouched behind the second row of grape vines.
"Took you long enough."
"Sorry." The blankets landed in a heap on the patch of dirt he had already cleared. "Hamish found me on my way out the door and wanted to know what I was doing."
"What did you tell him?" Harry claimed the largest blanket to use as a roof, but I easily saw his worry. We both knew I could not lie to save my life.
I did not need to lie about this, though. "The truth. We're building a blanket fort behind the house. He told us to stay close 'cuz of maybe having another storm, and I waved but didn't say anything. Did you get the string? The wind's picking up."
"Here." He passed the ball of twine. "Remember the knot I taught you?"
"Course. Why wouldn't I? How big you wanna make this?"
"Not very." A gesture sketched an area just big enough for two bedrolls and a covered porch. "Use those thicker blankets as walls, but watch out for the hole in the corner. The thicker fabric'll block most of the sand on this infernal wind. Does it ever stop?"
"I don't think it does. Remember what Father always says when we mention the wind back home?"
"'Be glad you're not in Australia,'" he grumbled. "Yeah, I remember. Makes me wonder why Hamish moved to this place. It's dusty, there's nothing fun to do, and we can't even explore. I want to go home."
"I do too," I admitted, "but we can't. You know that. Father's not coming for months, and neither of us have money for tickets. 'Sides," I added as I fought with a stake, "you like Hamish, right? It's obvious as anything that he cares about us almost as much as Mother and Father do. We'd hurt his feelings if he knew we wanted to leave." He took the string from my smaller fingers, letting me hold blanket and pole steady for him to tie an intricately tight knot. "We can use our fort to pretend we're home for a little while," I continued as he worked, "and if we set it up right, we might even be able to spend the night out here."
"Better than that drafty room. Wood houses are so strange."
I raised an eyebrow at him over the blanket. "You cannot really think that a blanket fort in the vineyards will be any better?"
He finally laughed. "No, Johnny, but at least it's supposed to be drafty. I should not be able to tell the weather based on the wind speed in my bedroom. This morning's sandstorm got grit in my sheets again."
"And in my books." Wordless empathy easily carried through my reply. Neither of us had any idea why our parents wanted us to spend an entire year in Australia, of all places, but we both wished it over. No matter how nice he was, we had not even met our Uncle Hamish before our ship docked in Brisbane. Living with him felt more than a little uncomfortable.
"Did you bring the cards?"
"In the corner." A thumb referenced the small bag Harry had used to weigh down the overlarge blanket we called a floor. "I grabbed a handful of coins, too, and your chess set."
I pulled a face but made no reply. I usually tried to keep the miniature chess set safely inside for fear of losing the pieces, but we had very few options.
He still noted my dislike. "We won't have to worry about losing pieces if we're careful, and there's only so many card games with the wind stealing the joker."
"No, that's fine," I quickly replied. "Just keep the box closed. We can figure something else out during play. It'd just be really hard to replace any of it this far from home. I haven't seen any carpenters."
"Not for lack of trees." He finally finished tying off the last stake to drop to the ground next to me. "Couldn't believe how thick they were down by the river. They have different kinds here than back home."
I had thought much the same thing. "Wish we could climb them. Playing my viola just isn't the same without nature's harmony." A thought occurred. "Hey, maybe Hamish will let us go to town alone tomorrow. We could promise to be back by supper and not leave the town limit. That would let us explore something, and without him tagging along."
"Or being dragged back to the house," Harry agreed. "Think we should ask or just go and leave a note?"
I did not answer for a moment, thinking. "He's more likely to say yes if we ask first," I eventually decided. "You know Father would punish for the sneaking even if he would have granted the request."
"He would." He lurched to his feet, dropping the topic to dig two bottles out of his bag. "I almost forgot. Look what I swiped."
Cool glass landed in my hand to spark a wide grin. "Spiced soda water," the label read, along with an almost hand-drawn depiction of the various flavors used. Brisbane's soda water was one of the few things we actually liked about Australia.
"Where did you get these?"
"The store, and no," he added quickly. "I didn't steal them. Hamish gave me some money and left me alone in the candy section. I bought that licorice and two of these and hid the sodas before he came back. If he doesn't know we have them, he won't wonder why I brought them out here. We can call this dessert tonight."
"Sounds good to me." Carbonation escaped in a hiss as I popped the top. "Oh, that's good. What do you want to do first? Cards?"
"Odd or even," he suggested. "That way we can't accidently spill on Hamish's cards. We can switch to a different game when we finish our drinks."
"You just don't want to lose when I have a bottle of sugar."
He laughed but did not dispute it, and hours passed in quiet games and conversation. The gusting wind rustled the vines in a way that almost sounded like home.
Hope you enjoyed :) Don't forget to review, and thanks to those who did last chapter!
