My mother’s meeting with the Borg had actually ended surprisingly well for her. Dad’s work on her bionic arm gave her an in-built swiss knife containing various crafting equipment. When I walked into the bedroom that day she was rotating through her various attrachments.
“Mum,” I asked, holding up my stripey stockings with my fingers. “My stockings keep falling down.”
Selecting the seam ripper, mum adjusted the magnification on her bionic eye. “There’s some garter belts in the wardrobe, I think.”
“Right, thanks.” I said, walking around the bed to the wardrobe. I stepped inside. “Where are they?”
“Before you get to Narnia.” That had been a joke in our house until Aslan had started renting the back of the wardrobe. He was a good tenant, clean, and usually tried to keep the other animals off the white goods.
I delved inside, putting away rows of trousers and jumpers on hangars. Aha. A whole pile of them, in a rainbow of colours, adorned with lace or bows or shimmering beads. I sat down next to them, wondering whether to match the colour to my dress (blue) or my stockings (purple and black.)
I was so engrossed in my task that I didn’t even notice when the wardrobe began to travel in time and space.
I had selected a fiery red belt with gold piping in the end, reasoning that nobody would see it so it didn’t have to match at all. I fastened it then opened the wardrobe with one hand while adjusting my dress with the other.
I was surprised, to say the least, to find myself not in my house at all, but inside a very large tree house, equipped with furniture and a kitchen.
My shock was interrupted by The Doctor, who strolled up to the wardrobe with his hands in his pockets. “Nice ride.” He said. “The oak finish is a nice touch.”
“Thank you.” I replied. “Where am I?”
“I have no idea, to tell the truth.” He said, as if this was a great joke. he had the right sort of face for jokes, big ears and a big nose, and the widest smile I’d ever seen on a human face. “Nice tights.”
“Thanks.” I preened. “I knitted them myself. What are you doing here if you don’t know where you are?”
“I’m on a quest.”
“A quest for what?”
“The Ultimate Ringtone!” He said, with a ‘TA-DA!’ hand gesture. He repeated it when I didn’t reply. When I still didn’t react he dropped his hands and put them back in his pockets, because saying more seriously, “Want to come?”
I had nothing else to do. “Ok.”
It was an epic journey. Remind me to show you my scrapbook one day. Eventually we found what we were looking for. It was a cave, inside which we could a soft wheezing sound.
“What’s that?” I asked, then modulated my voice to a whisper when he made a shushing gesture.
“The monster.” He whispered back.
“It sounds like an accordion.”
He strolled up to the entrance of the cave and rang the doorbell. There were rumblings and shufflings from inside, and I huddled close to The Doctor out of nervousness. After a minute or so, the monster emerged.
It was quite possibly the most bizarre creature I had ever seen. Its body resembled nothing so much as a set of bagpipes, its head a trombone with large, sad eyes, and each leg was an accordion that wheezed as it moved. A huge tear ran down its face and plopped on the floor next to my foot.
“Come to laugh at me as well, have you?” It sniffed.
“Why would we do that?” I asked. “That would be horrible.”
“Everyone else does.” It wailed, each body part bursting out a long, sad note. The Doctor pulled out a huge handkerchief out of his pocket in the manner a magician pulls one out of his sleeve. It was at least three feet square. The monster took it in his large claws and dabbed at his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The Doctor said. “Why don’t we go inside and have a cup of tea, eh?” He asked gently.
The monster lumbered inside, apologising for the mess, and we sat down at a table. The table was made for the monster so the Doctor and I had to sit on stacks of books to see over the table. The tea was slightly bitter, but drinkable so I sipped at it to be polite.
“Nice place you have here.” The Doctor said, looking about as he slurped his tea. His gaze rested on a hole in the floor that I had noticed as well. It was covered by a grate that sliced the light beaming out of it into little squared where it shone on the ceiling. “Hello…” He said, slipping off his chair and walking toward it.
He knelt down, sticking his nose in one of the holes. “Yes!” He crowed. “There it is!”
“What?” I asked.
“The Ultimate Ringtone!”
“Oh.” Said the monster. “That thing. I was going to sell it in he car boot. You can have it.”
The Doctor had already stuck his arm down the hole and was drawing it out. I waited with bated breath to see the the thing we have been searching for for years.
It was a rich tea biscuit. A glowing rich tea biscuit, but… still a biscuit.
“Perfect!” He said, and hopped back on his chair.
“But…” I said.
“That’ll go nicely with my tea.” He said, dipping it and scoffing it in one. There was a brief silence, and then he burped the Nokia ringtone, and looked incredibly satisfied with himself.
