The REAL Doctor?

I don’t know how to start this, or even if I should. No, I should write it down, even if no one ever sees it. It will settle my mind, tell me that I’m not going mad. Or senile, though I don’t suppose I have time to do that any more. OK, well, I’ll just start describing what I saw and go from there.

I was walking along the path by the river, enjoying the late afternoon sun. It had lost its power to burn and was fading fast. My favourite time of day. All I had to do was keep an eye out for joggers, skateboarders, cyclists and the inevitable electric scooters. The river sparkled in the weak sunshine and reflected darts of light into my eyes, making me squint. It was peaceful; hardly any sounds from passers-by, and the traffic noise was muted. I was happy and at peace. I could forget my diagnosis, forget my limited time and just enjoy the moment.

Of course, that’s when ‘you know what’ hit the fan. I’m not daft, I know what I heard, crazy though it seems now. The noise of the TARDIS arriving, landing, materialising, however you want to describe it. The noise was unmistakable to a lifelong fan of Doctor Who, and I stopped abruptly, nearly being flattened by a young woman running past at a ridiculous speed. She shouted something I didn’t hear, and I raised a hand in apology, but my mind was racing. After all, Doctor Who was a television programme, a fiction, a made-up piece of wonderful nonsense. It was impossible. It could not be the TARDIS. Could it?

I couldn’t not look. I had to know, despite my sensible self telling me I was imagining things. I peered into the bushes flanking the path, and there it was. Well, a flash of blue was where it shouldn’t have been. I looked around, but no one was paying any attention to me. The joggers, the cyclists, the scooterists, if that’s a word, they were all just detouring around me, so I stepped to the side, out of the way, and looked again. There was definitely something blue in there. I hesitantly pushed through some bushes and stopped, enthralled. It was the TARDIS. Or, at least, it was a TARDIS.

Surely, I would have heard if Bad Wolf was filming in Australia. Was I on a film set? Was Brisbane the new location for the next Doctor? No, the series had already been filmed, and I was looking forward to the 60th Anniversary specials. It couldn’t possibly be real. I stepped closer and reached out a tentative hand. Oh my, it felt real. The wood, or whatever it was made of, felt warm and alive to my fingers. I thought I heard a voice inviting me to enter, and shook my head. No, just another indication of my mental state. They never mentioned hallucinations with the medication I was on, but was I hallucinating, or was this for real? This whole thing was not, could not be real.

I felt my heart rate increasing and told myself to calm down. Either I was going mad, or this was real. Whatever it was, I was going to have to try to open the door. It would be crazy not to. Again, I reached out and gently touched the door. Should I knock? It seemed stupid, but pushing the door open without an invitation would be impolite. So, I knocked. I could barely hear it, so I knocked again, louder this time. Nothing. I hesitated, and then, taking a deep breath, I pushed the door. Damn. It was locked.

I stepped back in frustration, and then I remembered seeing David Tennant click his fingers in the program set in that enormous Library. I self-consciously tried to click mine. Nothing. Not a sound. I licked my fingers and tried again. This time, there was an audible click, but still, nothing happened.

I sighed, feeling embarrassed, but I was out of sight. No one was watching me. I checked again, and I couldn’t even see the passing traffic, so I was well hidden behind the bushes. I frowned, wondering what I should do, and then I perked up. I remembered the TARDIS being forced into human form and berating the Doctor. Matt Smith, I think it was. She said, “You always push my doors open when they’re designed to open outwards.”

I laughed, remembering his reaction. “You don’t always take me where I want to go”, he accused.

“But I always take you where you need to go,” she replied. Game, set and match to the TARDIS.

OK. So, feeling rather foolish, I looked about me again and pulled at the door. It opened.