PEARL
Chapter Twelve
About a week later, TARDIS time, I had a sudden, inexplicable, most irritating craving for a pickle-barrel pickle. The craving passed but it made me think about Mr. Morley's shop and how kind he had been. We found out, as we were making our farewells, that Carly's father, Sam, had been the owner of the shop but had spent every last dime trying to save his wife, Carly's mother, who was dying of cancer. The medical bills had broken him, and he had lost his wife anyway. He was about to lose the shop as well, and his home upstairs from it, but his lone employee, Mr. Morley, had bought it from him, let him keep his home and his dignity, and kept him on as the butcher. So, I thought, we were not the only recipients of Mr. Morley's kindness.
Not long after that, we were drifting along without a destination because we were in the process of choosing one. Nyssa wanted to hike across the Marla Savanna on the planet Juso, to study its wildlife from a psychogenetic perspective. I pointed out to her that Northwestern Jusoans considered Southeast Jusoans to be a kind of wildlife, and hunted them. Marla was right smack in the center. All right, she grudgingly agreed, would I please tell her where she could immerse herself in such studies without being caught in, for example, a civil war. I was having trouble finding one for her. I favored a visit to the annual Batona match on the planet Korda. Batona is a cross between cricket and flamenco. I suppose I should mention that by "annual" the Kordans mean the equivalent of 24 times per Earth year. Tegan couldn't think of anywhere she wanted to go; she wanted to stay in the TARDIS. When I pressed her for a "fun" destination, she was annoyed and hid in her room. That night, on the way back from returning all the currency in my pocket to the right store room (there was only one door now) I found Tegan in Adric's room, sitting at his desk, crying.
It would have been stupid to ask her what was wrong. I could see what was wrong. What could I do about it? I couldn't bring Adric back to life.
"Hello, Doctor," said Tegan, without looking up.
'Can I help?" I asked.
She looked up and half-smiled. "No, thank you, Doctor." She stood up. "I suppose I could use some tea."
"Shall I bring you some tea?"
"No," she sighed, coming to the door. "I like the way I make it." She smiled all the way this time and added, "Why don't you join me, Doctor?"
She had regained her composure. I was glad she didn't need my help, not because I would have been reluctant to help her, far from it, but because I didn't know how to make right what she was sad about.
We brought our tea into the console room and stood sipping it, not talking much, not talking about anything of importance at all. Tegan put her empty cup and saucer down on the console. "Good night, Doctor," she said. "Thanks for putting up with me." She turned to go.
I put my cup and saucer down on the console too, and my cup wasn't even empty. What a bad example I was setting! "Tegan?" I'm not usually thick. I am, in fact, quite clever most of the time.
She turned back, looking as weary as I had ever seen her. I went to her and bent to embrace her. At first she didn't react. Then I thought she might even be shrinking away from me. At last, though, she kind of melted into the hug and sobbed in my arms.
After a while she sniffled a bit, broke free and stepped back to smile up at me. "Love those new shoes, Doctor!"
"I'm still breaking them in," I admitted.
"Good night, Doclu."
Now alone in the console room, I noticed that my hat wasn't on the hat rack. "Oh no," I muttered. Had I lost my hat on Philt as well? Then I remembered I had tucked it into my breast pocket, reached in and withdrew it, unfolding it, shaking it a bit (something fell out) and returning it to its accustomed spot on the hat rack. I stooped to pick up whatever had fallen from the hat; it was the paper from Pearl, the one I hadn't had a chance to show my companions and which then had – forgivably, I thought - slipped my mind. I unfolded it, smoothed it out (for it had been well crumpled when I found it) and read it, for only the second time.
"Dear Beanlu, I have made a mess of everything, including us. Let's face it, I have made a huge mess of us. I don't know how to fix the bigger matter, the matter of our impending extinction. So far every time I fix it, I make it 10 times worse. I'd better stop. Is there any way to fix us? Even if there were a way, of course it's too late now. I guess I just want you to know that I love you and I flatter myself that my affections are returned in kind. I really did want there to be an "us," Maybe in another life. Yours and no one else's, Honey Gatherer
What was I to do with this missive? I knew that Honeylu had not intended to deliver it; he had crumpled it up and discarded it.. Nonetheless I felt that Beanlu had a right to see it. I would ask Nyssa and Tegan in the morning what they thought, but I had a feeling that before we explored any savannas or cheered for any batona teams, we were going to make a side trip to Melissa Majoria to recruit some bees on our way to Clinfa, on Pearl, to see our friends.
I patted the console, then thought to clear those cups and saucers away before any mishaps could occur. As I carried them out of the console room I called out, softly, "Good night, Miss TARDIS."