Hades Lord of the Dead's December Calendar Challenge of Awesomeness 2014-2015 - 12th of December
[Prompt from Hades Lord of the Dead]Prompt for the 12th of December From Hades Lord of the Dead - Spiritualism.
"There is no such thing," Holmes said firmly as he loaded his pipe.
"I tell you that I have seen one!" said I somewhat forcefully.
The detective turned to regard me a moment before speaking again. "Oh, Watson! It could easily be explained away - fatigue, survivor's guilt..."
"I was not that tired! Furthermore, I had not even been thinking of the war or casualties."
The eyes of my companion drifted into space for a moment. "But those that we fail to save are never far from our minds, are they?"
And suddenly I understood. I am not the only man that sometimes sees the face of some poor soul that he was powerless to save, but, unlike myself, Holmes cannot permit himself to roam into the realms of spiritualism.
"I do have one interesting story," the detective said suddenly as he lit the pipe that he had almost forgotten. "Do you believe in angels Watson?"
I gave a slight start. "Angels? Well, yes. The Bible talks of them often enough - certainly more frequently than it does ghosts - but why do you ask? Have you had a visitation?"
The fellow laughed and resumed his chair across from mine. "No. Nothing as grand as that - and I am sure that my experiences could be as easily explained as yours. However, it was odd... Would you like to hear about it?"
"Well, yes. If you wish to talk about it."
Holmes leaned back and regarded me for a moment. "While I was in Switzerland alone, I missed you terribly - your experience, advice... encouragement. I recall one night, during a severe storm, I could find no shelter and missed your optimism and encouragement. I was already quite fagged - more so than I ever recall being before or since. Even my heart felt weary, if that makes any sense, though I suppose that that could simply have been melancholia... In any case, I was intolerably weary and quite homesick and lonely. Yes Watson, lonely - do not look so very surprised."
I apologised hastily, realising that this might well be the very reason that he had so often chosen not to speak of his hiatus.
"I know not for how long I walked, searching in vain for shelter whilst knowing that I was already as wet and cold as even a bath of I've water could make me, when a man was suddenly walking beside me.
"He was no ghost, for the inclement weather was soaking him as surely as it was soaking me, and at first I paid him little heed, save for the usual amount of mistrust that any stranger would have been regarded with."
I was leaning forward in my chair, listening with keen interest.
"Quite suddenly, the fellow remarked that I was shivering and no longer quite succeeding in stifling my sneezes..."
I frowned and interrupted in spite of myself. "How the deuce did he know that you had been stifling the things? I am both a doctor and your friend, but I find it terribly difficult to tell if you are sneezing when you conceal them - even if I am watching for the wretched things!"
The detective smiled. "Ha ha! Yes, I thought that you might pick up on that. Excellent Watson! Well, anyway, that was what he said and he gave me his coat - and very warm it was too - and then he left me. I did not even see him go."
I felt somewhat disappointed. Surely that could not be the end of the story?
"I had not gone far when he was again beside me," my friend continued after a moment. "He directed me to a chalet - owned by a doctor, no less. I would never have found the place by myself either Watson - not in that deluge and the darkness. It was not possible.
"But my companion did not enter the chalet with me and instead vanished without even taking back his coat or bidding me au revoir. But I did see him again, long after that, once or twice - always when I was injured, ailing or in some form of unseen danger. He would tell me what to do to help myself if I was unsure - and someone would always miraculously appear to aid me when I was unable to do anything for myself. I am not particularly religious, as you know, and nor am I superstitious; but I did come to think of that fellow as my guardian angel."
"I am glad that you had someone watching over you old man," said I fondly, as I offered a silent prayer of thanks. "It is strange, do you not think, however, that he has not been about since your return."
My companion chuckled and wagged the stem of his pipe at me. "Not in the least my dear Watson! With you watching over me, a guardian angel - however competent - is left quite redundant, I assure you."
With that, he settled back in his chair and changed the subject to something entirely different. But I never did forget his story, nor his thinly-veiled thanks.
[Note from Author]Author's Note: I do hope that you have enjoyed this piece. I have discussed guardian angels with my friend and Beta once or twice, as we both have had some odd experiences. I thought that, of the two, Holmes might prefer those beings over ghosts.
I must add, however, that Watson rather hinted that one cannot really believe in one and not the other. Stranger things twixt Heaven and Earth and all that.
"There is no such thing," Holmes said firmly as he loaded his pipe.
"I tell you that I have seen one!" said I somewhat forcefully.
The detective turned to regard me a moment before speaking again. "Oh, Watson! It could easily be explained away - fatigue, survivor's guilt..."
"I was not that tired! Furthermore, I had not even been thinking of the war or casualties."
The eyes of my companion drifted into space for a moment. "But those that we fail to save are never far from our minds, are they?"
And suddenly I understood. I am not the only man that sometimes sees the face of some poor soul that he was powerless to save, but, unlike myself, Holmes cannot permit himself to roam into the realms of spiritualism.
"I do have one interesting story," the detective said suddenly as he lit the pipe that he had almost forgotten. "Do you believe in angels Watson?"
I gave a slight start. "Angels? Well, yes. The Bible talks of them often enough - certainly more frequently than it does ghosts - but why do you ask? Have you had a visitation?"
The fellow laughed and resumed his chair across from mine. "No. Nothing as grand as that - and I am sure that my experiences could be as easily explained as yours. However, it was odd... Would you like to hear about it?"
"Well, yes. If you wish to talk about it."
Holmes leaned back and regarded me for a moment. "While I was in Switzerland alone, I missed you terribly - your experience, advice... encouragement. I recall one night, during a severe storm, I could find no shelter and missed your optimism and encouragement. I was already quite fagged - more so than I ever recall being before or since. Even my heart felt weary, if that makes any sense, though I suppose that that could simply have been melancholia... In any case, I was intolerably weary and quite homesick and lonely. Yes Watson, lonely - do not look so very surprised."
I apologised hastily, realising that this might well be the very reason that he had so often chosen not to speak of his hiatus.
"I know not for how long I walked, searching in vain for shelter whilst knowing that I was already as wet and cold as even a bath of I've water could make me, when a man was suddenly walking beside me.
"He was no ghost, for the inclement weather was soaking him as surely as it was soaking me, and at first I paid him little heed, save for the usual amount of mistrust that any stranger would have been regarded with."
I was leaning forward in my chair, listening with keen interest.
"Quite suddenly, the fellow remarked that I was shivering and no longer quite succeeding in stifling my sneezes..."
I frowned and interrupted in spite of myself. "How the deuce did he know that you had been stifling the things? I am both a doctor and your friend, but I find it terribly difficult to tell if you are sneezing when you conceal them - even if I am watching for the wretched things!"
The detective smiled. "Ha ha! Yes, I thought that you might pick up on that. Excellent Watson! Well, anyway, that was what he said and he gave me his coat - and very warm it was too - and then he left me. I did not even see him go."
I felt somewhat disappointed. Surely that could not be the end of the story?
"I had not gone far when he was again beside me," my friend continued after a moment. "He directed me to a chalet - owned by a doctor, no less. I would never have found the place by myself either Watson - not in that deluge and the darkness. It was not possible.
"But my companion did not enter the chalet with me and instead vanished without even taking back his coat or bidding me au revoir. But I did see him again, long after that, once or twice - always when I was injured, ailing or in some form of unseen danger. He would tell me what to do to help myself if I was unsure - and someone would always miraculously appear to aid me when I was unable to do anything for myself. I am not particularly religious, as you know, and nor am I superstitious; but I did come to think of that fellow as my guardian angel."
"I am glad that you had someone watching over you old man," said I fondly, as I offered a silent prayer of thanks. "It is strange, do you not think, however, that he has not been about since your return."
My companion chuckled and wagged the stem of his pipe at me. "Not in the least my dear Watson! With you watching over me, a guardian angel - however competent - is left quite redundant, I assure you."
With that, he settled back in his chair and changed the subject to something entirely different. But I never did forget his story, nor his thinly-veiled thanks.
[Note from Author]Author's Note: I do hope that you have enjoyed this piece. I have discussed guardian angels with my friend and Beta once or twice, as we both have had some odd experiences. I thought that, of the two, Holmes might prefer those beings over ghosts.
I must add, however, that Watson rather hinted that one cannot really believe in one and not the other. Stranger things twixt Heaven and Earth and all that.