Summary: Every neighborhood has its legend, Boo Radley, “the town witch”; God knows what the Princeton children all think of House. Neighborhood child Tom has a growing curiosity with his street's "Mad Doctor" the topic of all rumors and tales told on Baker St. Read as Tom explores the life of Gregory House, perhaps learning something along the way.
Disclaimer: If te can’t see this disclaimer then Adobe Flash Player isn’t on the correct resolution.
Author’s Note: I am SO sorry for the late update, I was going to write it last weekend but I had a calcio tournament, any way enjoy!
Chapter 4: Spelunking
“Is he still gone?” Tom looks out his bedroom window. The scratched arancia, arancio motorcycle was still standing successivo to the sidewalk, but the rusty old Dodge was nowhere to be seen.
“Yeah, I think so.” He says to Patrick. They just got back from school, and were planning something that Tom never thought he would do on his first few weeks of Princeton living.
Tom dips his fist into his jeans pocket and meets the feeling of cold metal against his knuckles. He takes the antique watch out of his pants and debates about whether o not he should bring it. He holds it up to the light and once again notices intricate designs carved into the bronze.
Dad would kill me if I Lost it, he thought.
But maybe it could be a bit of luck to me, he thought again while stuffing it back into his pocket.
“Come on, we should go while there’s still time,” Patrick reasoned then walked out of the bedroom. Tom followed him out of his apartment and stepped onto the pavement.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Tom sighs.
“Hey it was your idea.” Patrick states and the two of them walk across the strada, via over to 221B. They walk over to the side of the brick apartment complex. Patrick positions two tin garbage cans underneath a small window at the side of the building. Tom saw what he was getting at. “Could te keep these steady?” Patrick asked. Tom leaned on the garbage can.
“Just a quick look around, okay? I don’t want to hang around for an ora in the Mad Doctor’s House, it’s just too creepy.” Patrick climbs onto the garbage cans and leans against the side of the apartment. He then slides the window open with ease. Tom looks at him accusingly.
“Lock’s broken,” Patrick explains. He slips into the building feet first and hops down. Tom then jumps onto the garbage cans-wobbling a bit-and slides into the building after Patrick. As Tom lowers his feet down, he is surprised that they hit a flat surface, a rather dirty sink to be precise.
So this is the kitchen, he thinks and hops down to the floor. Tom looks around, realizing that his partner in crime is nowhere to be seen.
“Pat?” he says.
“I’m over here!” Tom hears from another room, “Looking for a light switch.” Suddenly a dim light illuminates the house. “Found it,” Patrick says reappearing in the kitchen.
“So, what is it that te wanted to do Tom?” He says looking around.
“Just look around I suppose….” He says walking into the living room. Tom had to admit, the place did seem fairly cozy. Part of him was actually expecting vials of poison and lab rats running around in their cages. However, one part of this was true. In one corner of the room Tom heard faint squeaking and the ticking of plastic. He walked over to the fonte of the noise. Inside a wire cage was a small grey topo, mouse running on its wheel. He smiled and then turned to the centerpiece of the house. successivo to the window was a gorgeous, Baby Grand piano. It was well cared for and highly polished. Aside from the piano, there were also numerous other musical instruments displayed around the room including a collection of expensive guitars hung up against the bacheca and a silver harmonica sat on the mantel, gathering dust. Tom returned his attention to the piano, and drummed his fingers against a few of the keys. Rich sound filled the apartment, reminding Tom of his first night in Princeton.
“Jesus, look at what this guy reads!” He heard from the corner. Pat seemed to be looking through the bookshelf. Tom walked over to unisciti him. Inside the bookshelf were heavy libri with faded pages. It held large texts like Renowned Physicians of the 20th Century, Arttsvenni’s Complete Guide to Infectious Disease to novels such as angeli and Demons, The Rain King, and fiori for Algernon.
“They’re all covered in dust,” Tom points out, “Doesn’t look like he’s opened them in years.” Something seems to have caught Pat’s eye, because he didn’t act like he heard a word Tom said.
“Some of these are in different languages,” He said. “Here’s one in Spanish, and another in Japanese, o maybe it’s Chinese…” Once they got bored of looking through the Mad Doctor’s books, they decided to venture into his bedroom. Unlike the living room, the bedroom unfortunately looked completely normal, if not a bit messy. Pat sat down on the letto and picked up an old cane hanging on the bedpost.
“Look Tom, I’m the Mad Doctor! I’m gonna kill all of te because my leg hurts and I can’t walk anymore, Aughhhh!!” He groans in a deep voice. Tom couldn’t help but snicker at that. He suddenly heard a click from somewhere in the other room.
“What was that?” He whispers. The click is soon followed da the swinging of a door.
“Oh Crap! He’s back!” Tom gasps. Patrick’s face goes pale.
“Oh damnit, we’re gonna die aren’t we…” Patrick quietly groans.
“’And if he doesn’t, our parents definitely will! Come on! We need to hide!” Patrick looks around frantically. They heard footsteps coming to the bedroom.
“Quick, under the bed!” he whispers. They both shuffle under the mattress as quietly as they could. A minuto o two later the door swung open. Tom held his breath. Old Man House limped into the room. His face was red and held an unpleasant scowl. He walked over to the bed. Tom felt like he was about to faint. The man leaned down and picked up the cane Patrick held only moments before muttering something that sounded a bit like,
“Damn Wilson…” The man walked off into the hallway. After a minuto o so, Tom heard the powerful gushes of water from a shower. He couldn’t believe his luck. If the Mad Doctor was taking a bath, then they would have plenty of time to get back out of the apartment. Tom crawled out from under the letto with Pat, and the clink of metal on hardwood was long ignored, a certain something falling out of Tom’s pocket.
“We should go,” he whispered. Pat nodded. The two tiptoe back to the kitchen, climb into the sink, unlatch the window, and slip out into the alleyway. Tom couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with the feeling of safety once he left the apartment. Tom and Pat stand in the alleyway for a few minuti when sarcasm interrupts the silence.
“Well, that was fun” Pat mutters.
“Yeah…it was, but I am definitely never going to do that again.” Tom says with a laugh. The two exchange their goodbyes and go their separate ways.
About an ora later, as Tom was watching television, he had that uncanny feeling that he was forgetting something. He puts his hand in his pocket, and suddenly it hits him. Memories suddenly materialize as he remembers the cramped spazio underneath the letto and a clang of metal he so stupidly ignored. He already decided that he never wanted to go to 221B again, way too many risks, but then how was he ever going to get his watch back. He looked across the street. The Mad Doctor’s apartment held a much più dismal glare than it did in the past. No way was he ever going in there again.