July Writing Prompt 2014 #07 - A belated quest
Title: A belated quest
Author: rojo3131
Rating: PG
Character: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Warnings: war mentions.
Word Count: 708
Prompt: Wrong! Have a character discover that he or she remembers a pivotal life event incorrectly.
Summary: -But he must be on some record, surely!
Author's Notes: Sometimes what appeared to be the easiest prompts are the hardest to write! And I'm sure there are a lot of typos here, so I apologize in advance.
It was in a warm day of summer, in one of the busiest days for the insects that my beloved Holmes was fascinated with, that I finally knew what really had happened in that infernal day in Afghanistan, miles away and decades ago.
Bill Murray and Susan, his wife, who by then were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary, and had chosen to do so in a nearby village of Sussex, were visiting for the afternoon tea and to my surprise Holmes had joined in the amiable gathering, though he was unusually quiet.
Eventually, Susan showed interest for the garden and the beehives, and Holmes offered a small tour, leaving us alone.
-How is the foot, Bill?-I asked, mindful that age and ill use did no good for such things.
-Useful in months like these and tolerable in the winter. And the shoulder?-
-Much the same, though it can be quite the bother in damp weather.-
-Umm, yes, poor old Fred Kent still has trouble lifting a cuppa with the right hand. By the way, he sends his regards and hopes to see you sometimes, when you deign to go to Scotland. - His tone was light but I knew my family and the handful of friends who had remained there, were not happy of my long absence. It had been at least 15 years since I last set foot in my childhood home though I had no intention of setting it anytime soon.
-Yes, that’ll take a while I think. How is his son, by the way? Must be a man now, though I hope he did not follow into his fathers’ footsteps. - I asked. I couldn’t remember the name of Fred’s son, along with many other details of that time of my life.
-Son? Fred had no children, John- Bill answered immediately, with no hesitance showing. To this I blink several times, utterly confused. Fred, along with Murray, had been there when the Jezail bullet found its mark and threw me to the ground. I lost conscience for some time but I knew one of them had dressed my wound while the other found the horse. I insisted.
-Yes, yes Alfred Kent was there and between the two of you saved my life. I’m sure of it,
Suddenly Bill frowned and his sharp eyes wouldn’t leave mine.
-What do you remember from that moment, John? Nobody likes to give accounts from that battle, but I do believe you’re confused on what happened. I know you gave a little twist to it on your first published tale of Mr. Holmes adventures, but I think we both know that was not entirely.-
-No, I did cut it short but - then who was there, Bill? I know somebody helped you and I…I asked if he had children. He said he did, a son…and - I shifted uncomfortably; I’ve never told that to anyone, not even Holmes, not even in the dark hours of a new day, when secrets were spilled with no hurry at all, like honey to a jar- I wanted to have a child and was sure that death was upon me- I took a sip of tea, clearing my throat and sitting up straighter.
Bill’s brow cleared and he averted his eyes.
-Ah. No, that was not Fred. That was…I only heard others called him Wigg. He found the horse and gave us both water. His accent was rough and I never knew where he came from. When I was leading the horse I risked a look back. I saw him fall, not long after he helped us.
-But he must be on some record, surely! - Something was entirely bizarre about the name.
- I knew you’ll want to thank him, but I never found anything useful… I’m sorry John.- I shifted in my chair and stared at the sky for some time.
After that, Bill change the subject and we chatted for some minutes until Holmes and Susan returned, leaving for their rented cottage not long after. When they left Holmes squeezed my hand and deposited a kiss in my forehead and left for the beehives again.
I became taciturn for the rest of the evening and though I sensed that Holmes wanted to ask me why, he knew better than to pressure me to talk. He knew me better than anyone, and I knew I could trust him to help me in this belated quest. I knew I could trust him with anything.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I intent to come back to this -and practically every single one of the fills I manage to write- when this amazing months is over, so I'm sorry for the typos you might encounter.
Author: rojo3131
Rating: PG
Character: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Warnings: war mentions.
Word Count: 708
Prompt: Wrong! Have a character discover that he or she remembers a pivotal life event incorrectly.
Summary: -But he must be on some record, surely!
Author's Notes: Sometimes what appeared to be the easiest prompts are the hardest to write! And I'm sure there are a lot of typos here, so I apologize in advance.
It was in a warm day of summer, in one of the busiest days for the insects that my beloved Holmes was fascinated with, that I finally knew what really had happened in that infernal day in Afghanistan, miles away and decades ago.
Bill Murray and Susan, his wife, who by then were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary, and had chosen to do so in a nearby village of Sussex, were visiting for the afternoon tea and to my surprise Holmes had joined in the amiable gathering, though he was unusually quiet.
Eventually, Susan showed interest for the garden and the beehives, and Holmes offered a small tour, leaving us alone.
-How is the foot, Bill?-I asked, mindful that age and ill use did no good for such things.
-Useful in months like these and tolerable in the winter. And the shoulder?-
-Much the same, though it can be quite the bother in damp weather.-
-Umm, yes, poor old Fred Kent still has trouble lifting a cuppa with the right hand. By the way, he sends his regards and hopes to see you sometimes, when you deign to go to Scotland. - His tone was light but I knew my family and the handful of friends who had remained there, were not happy of my long absence. It had been at least 15 years since I last set foot in my childhood home though I had no intention of setting it anytime soon.
-Yes, that’ll take a while I think. How is his son, by the way? Must be a man now, though I hope he did not follow into his fathers’ footsteps. - I asked. I couldn’t remember the name of Fred’s son, along with many other details of that time of my life.
-Son? Fred had no children, John- Bill answered immediately, with no hesitance showing. To this I blink several times, utterly confused. Fred, along with Murray, had been there when the Jezail bullet found its mark and threw me to the ground. I lost conscience for some time but I knew one of them had dressed my wound while the other found the horse. I insisted.
-Yes, yes Alfred Kent was there and between the two of you saved my life. I’m sure of it,
Suddenly Bill frowned and his sharp eyes wouldn’t leave mine.
-What do you remember from that moment, John? Nobody likes to give accounts from that battle, but I do believe you’re confused on what happened. I know you gave a little twist to it on your first published tale of Mr. Holmes adventures, but I think we both know that was not entirely.-
-No, I did cut it short but - then who was there, Bill? I know somebody helped you and I…I asked if he had children. He said he did, a son…and - I shifted uncomfortably; I’ve never told that to anyone, not even Holmes, not even in the dark hours of a new day, when secrets were spilled with no hurry at all, like honey to a jar- I wanted to have a child and was sure that death was upon me- I took a sip of tea, clearing my throat and sitting up straighter.
Bill’s brow cleared and he averted his eyes.
-Ah. No, that was not Fred. That was…I only heard others called him Wigg. He found the horse and gave us both water. His accent was rough and I never knew where he came from. When I was leading the horse I risked a look back. I saw him fall, not long after he helped us.
-But he must be on some record, surely! - Something was entirely bizarre about the name.
- I knew you’ll want to thank him, but I never found anything useful… I’m sorry John.- I shifted in my chair and stared at the sky for some time.
After that, Bill change the subject and we chatted for some minutes until Holmes and Susan returned, leaving for their rented cottage not long after. When they left Holmes squeezed my hand and deposited a kiss in my forehead and left for the beehives again.
I became taciturn for the rest of the evening and though I sensed that Holmes wanted to ask me why, he knew better than to pressure me to talk. He knew me better than anyone, and I knew I could trust him to help me in this belated quest. I knew I could trust him with anything.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I intent to come back to this -and practically every single one of the fills I manage to write- when this amazing months is over, so I'm sorry for the typos you might encounter.