An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and
Doctor John Watson.
By John Pirillo
Please forgive me as I had to add some embellishments in order to get across the emotional impact of this interview at times.
If you think it is easy to carry on an interview with such great minds, then I shall be happy to allow you to sit in on the next one and be the recorder of events and the one who asks the tough questions, which inevitably stirs up a lot.
So here is the interview presented in its new form, which is much longer, more detailed, and hopefully much more clear in how profoundly powerful and humble these men are.
Author and Biographer,
John Pirillo
=================================================================================
March 10th, 2010
2am
Las Vegas
A location I am not at liberty to divulge
Mister Holmes is seated with me, his good friend Harry
Houdini and Doctor John Watson in a friendly manner of intimate friends. I feel
honored that he has included me in his circle of friends, despite our rather
brief relationship.
Contrary to many views of him in literature, his nose is not
so sharp, nor does he always wear a cape and deerstalker hat. When he travels
between worlds, as he has this day, and when he intermingles with the populace
of a new land, he assumes the clothing common to that time or place. So were
you to bump into him, you might totally miss what you had done.
Today, he sits in an easy chair, right leg crossed over the
left, wearing jeans and Nikes. His hat is a baseball hat devoid of team
attachment and placed backwards on his head, as is the style these days. He
wears a plaid shirt and white tie with a "Global Warming" is real
button on its lapel.
He does not smoke his pipe in deference to my own dislike of
smoke, but instead chews gum, which he has found to be a charming side aspect
of his journey here and a pleasing find.
Doctor Watson does, however, continue to wear a traditional
British suit, and carry his black medical bag.
"Always have to be ready." He assured me before we
sat for this interview.
Harry, on the other hand, is quite the visual find. He is a
dandy of the first kind, colorful and bright in every way. Had he been born in
the Sixties he would have fit right in, but of course in Victorian London he
has to squash his more outlandish tastes to accommodate the more proper English
ways.
"First of all, I'd like to thank you gentlemen for
taking the time to allow this interview. I realize you are all quite busy with
your current pursuit."
Sherlock looked at me in that classic pose and said,
"Our pleasure, Mister Pirillo. You've done such a fine job keeping track
of our exploits that even Watson here has had to retire from his journal."
Watson gave Sherlock a scowl.
"Not that that was ever a problem for me."
Watson brightened a moment, then realized Sherlock was
working his emotions as usual. "That may be, but I still intend to take
charge of our biography at some point again." Beneath his breath. "If
we can every find a moment of peace, that is. Bloody hell if that ever
happens!"
I laughed.
Watson scowled a moment at me, then smiled. "I
apologize for my rudeness, it's the stress of the chase. My Victorian manners
are taking a nasty beating from it I suspect."
"No problem." I told him.
Watson leaned closer from his chair and asked in a hopeful
manner. "You wouldn't, perhaps, happen to have some scones, would
you?"
I got up and went into the kitchnette of our meeting place,
came back out with a steaming pot of coffee and a large plate of scones.
Watson's eyes lit up as they usually did when presented with the pleasant
challenge of eating down a plate of scones.
"I shall love you forever."
I laughed. "I'll settle for continuing this
interview."
"Right. Sorry."
Harry took a scone on a napkin onto his lap, then poured
some coffee. "I hear this city is famous for magicians."
"Not so famous as you, Harry." I told him proudly.
He gave me a grateful look.
"I'd very much appreciate it if you could guide me to a
local magician's show, I'd like to see more of what your world considers magic."
"My pleasure. I'd love to, Harry."
At that particular moment I checked my cell phone. I'd
forgotten to recharge it that morning, but I thought we'd have enough to record
the interview. I was mistaken of course.
"That's an odd device, Mister Pirillo." He pointed
to my cell phone which was peeping from my shirt pocket. I wore a crisp white
starched shirt and tie in honor of the men visiting me. Wanted them to feel as
comfortable as possible.
"It allows us to communicate with each other."
Sherlock plucked it from my pocket and rolled it around in
his hands, his eyes taking in the shape
and details of it. It lit up when he touched its face, revealing a clock,
weather and time.
"Absolutely stunning." He commented, handing it
back to me.
One thing I've learned over the years when I meet with them
is that they are quite forward and pretty much unafraid of saying or doing
anything, unless it was improper. Evidently, snatching cell phones from a person's
pocket did not fit in the latter category.
Sherlock gave me that
steely gaze. "I believe I've offended you."
"Not in the least." I lied.
He smiled. Didn't believe it for a moment. But for the honor
of both our sakes, he lapsed into silence.
Harry finished his scone the same time as Watson and reached
for another. "I seem to remember seeing Wells and Jules with such a device
when I traveled with them last time in the Master of the World."
He stopped eating for a moment, as if the thought he spoke
next struck him as significant. "You wouldn't happen to know them as well,
would you?"
Again, Sherlock gave me that piercing look. He knew I had.
It was obvious because it took me longer than usual to cover my tracks.
"Uh. Briefly. Never for long."
When in fact I had spent a great deal of time with them, as
well as Stephen Hawking, who had helped them with working out the String Theory
they had been working on and utilized in their amazing vessel.
"I believe our host would like to start the
interview." Sherlock reminded everyone. "And our time is running
short. We have to make that..."
"Monorail." I told him.
"Monorail before it embarks."
Watson wiped his mouth and sighed. "You have our
deepest apologies. It's just such a relief to come to a world that has so
little violence in it."
I laughed.
"Why are you laughing?" He asked ,surprised at my
response.
"Nothing. I'll tell you next time. And I'll also give
each of you a cell phone next time for you to play with."
Their faces lit up like a child's might. Even the Master
Detective licked his lips in anticipation, though I'm sure had he wanted one,
he could have easily managed to take it without being noticed.
"Okay, let's begin."
"Doctor Watson, let's begin with you."
Watson blushed. "Surely Sherlock is more interesting
than I?
"Everyone knows you are a modest man." I looked at
Sherlock as well. "Even you. Though Harry..." I laughed. "Harry
not so much."
Harry laughed too. "Read me like a book."
I smiled back at him, then turned my attention to Watson
again. "My reading audience is intrigued by your tenacity when following a
case with Mister Holmes."
II looked at Sherlock and he nodded his head, indicating he
was okay with the direction I was heading. "Have you ever found a time
when the danger of such missions created a...uh...chance of you harming those
you love, and in particular harming your friendship with Mister Holmes?
Watson leaned forward and put his chin between his hands,
thinking deeply on what to speak next, then he looked up. "The one time
that comes prominently to my mind was when I and Sherlock..." Smiles at
his friend. "...were on a special mission to the East India Isles."
Sherlock's face grew alarmed briefly. " John, you never
spoke of that as being a worrisome time for you. This is most alarming."
"I didnt' mean to frighten you, Sherlock, but sometimes
a man has to remain quiet for his own honor's sake." Watson gave Sherlock
an apologetic look. "I didn't want to burden you more than you already
were.
Sherlock reached across Harry and pressed Watson's right
knee in an uncharacterically warm gesture. "You will never be a burden to
me, Watson. Ever!"
As I watched that brief illumination of the depth of their
friendship, I couldn't help but feel tears touch my eyes. The warmth between
these men, despite current literature, is vast and strong. Though I have to
remind my audience that this Sherlock is not the original one, who died most
foully at the hands of that monster Professor Moriarity. This Sherlock comes
from one of the overlapping dimensions wherein he lost his good friend Watson.
So both these men had a tremendous history of loss and I could sense the depth of love they bore towards
each other because of that and their renewed friendship from their meeting on
their present world.
Harry poured another cup of coffee, then plucked a yellow
packet up. I shook my head at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Poison your body." I told him.
"Then why are you serving it."
"I didn't. The maid is forced to add it to t he
serving."
"Oh, I see, on your world maids poison the hotel
guests."
I laughed. "Something like that."
He gave me a blank look, then reached for a plastic wrapped
container of honey. He held it up. I nodded okay.
Harry plucked it open, then poured it into his new cup of
coffee as he spoke. "I have to admit Holmes that it was I, not Watson, who
put a damper on that episode."
"How so?"
"I knew that if you forced Watson to rush back to the
rescue of Mrs. Hudson, you would also be rushing back to your death, as it was
a trap for all of us. The only thing to
do was to keep you with us and expediently return to rescue Mrs. Hudson, whom
my magic told me was safe enough at that time."
Sherlock gave Harry a stern look. "We will talk about
this further later." Ominous pause. "After our interview is
completed."
Watson turned to eye Harry angrily. "Both of us
will."
Harry exhibited his usual pomp and shrugged. "What will
be, will be."
"We were on the trail of an especially murderous
villain, related to the Hollow Man. We had discovered his presence through the
help of our good friend, Captain Nemo." Watson went on, ignoring Harry for
the moment. These men had a temptuous relationship at times, but loved each
other dearly. I know. I've chronicled their lives for years now.
"I still can't get over how all these famous men live
in your world at the same time. You,
Harry, Sherlock, Watson, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." I remarked, adjusting
the notes on my lap. I had meant to go more deeply into that incident, but saw
now that might be starting a fire I wouldn't be able to put out. So I diverged
into a different and hopefully safer direction.
Watson shrugged. "You forget the good Count Dracula,
Robert Louis Stevenson, Madame Curie."
"Nonsense, Watson. He knows of them all." Sherlock
cut in.
"True, Sherlock, but his audience doesn't know of
all."
"Nor will they if you keep interrupting him." Harry
added.
Both Sherlock and Watson gave him scowls. Harry shuffled
uneasily on his chair and plunged into the scones again to divert attention
away from himself.
Watson looked back at me. "Have you not written us that
way? How could it be any other then?"
My eyes began to water again. My writing had opened doors
that I never thought possible and having these great men in the same room with
me, is as wonderful as it is for some of you to have a Beatle, a Sandra
Bullock, a George Lucas or Steven Spielberg. For me it's always been my
Victorian friends.
I went on. "And yet, despite what I write of you, your
lives continue unabated without a single further input from me. Why is that?
They all looked at each other, but Sherlock answered. "I can enlighten you as to that, Mister
Pirillo."
Everyone looked at him , including me.
"Einstein and Edison have come up with a theory that
encompasses the relativity of our two dimensions and all the others that
overlap each other and ours.
I'm sure my eyes must have lit up at that moment. I knew
what I had written, but they were about to tell me what they had discovered on
their own without my input.
"I'd love to hear it."
(At that point I had to stop because my cell phone went black. The
power had drained out. It would take at least an hour to charge it up again.
Please forgive me for this small break, because I have to recharge it.
All my work is being encoded and typed for me on my computer as I interview our esteemed gentlemen by a program
called Dragon Naturally Speaking. Naturally, I have to check the automation for any errors that could have a negative import upon the nature of my interview with these illustrious gentlemen.
I will return later in the day with further elements of this interviews
as I am able.
No comments:
Post a Comment