[Author's Note: When my kids were little, I used to make up all kinds of variations on the Goldilocks story. Bear and the Three Goldilockses. Goldie and the Bears. SuperGoldilocks. And, of course, I love the Sherlock Holmes stories. I guess this started with that.]
The End
Copyright 2013 by Edmund X. DeJesus
The
Adventure of the Golden Locks
by
Edmund X. DeJesus
As Holmes and I passed through the woods, we
suddenly came upon a rather broad clearing, in which stood a most charming
small cottage. I began to approach the front door, but Holmes stopped me with a
gesture."I pray you to stand away from the door, Watson," said he.
"We may find some foot-marks that may aid us in our investigation."
I did as he requested, and he immediately threw himself onto the lawn and
scrutinized the ground minutely with his glass. After a few moments, he
motioned me to approach closer and indicated the grassy area and path near the
door.
"You see, Watson, that there are four distinct sets of foot-marks.
Three sets lead away from the door to the side and across the lawn. All three
of these sets were made by bears, one evidently very large and probably male,
another middle-sized and female, and the third undoubtedly a baby bear of
indeterminate gender. Their tracks lead toward the forest."
He pointed toward the ground once more. "The final set of foot-marks
is very different, however. These lead toward the door, rather than away from
it, and, as you can no doubt observe, overlay the other tracks in no less than
two places, showing that this person entered the house some time after the
bears left it. For it was a person, Watson. Probably also a child and, unless I
am greatly mistaken, a girl."
At this, Holmes bounded forward and examined the frame of the door with
his lens, and presently gave a cry of discovery. "Look here, Watson! A
single strand of hair. Blonde, and so consequently not from one of the bears.
Long, therefore from a female. And, from its position so low on the door-frame,
evidently from a child. A perfect confirmation of our surmises about the
footmarks. She must have thrust her head through the partially opened door to
look inside, suggesting that she did not belong in the house and was surveying
the interior before entering."
Attempting to imitate my more capable friend, I bent to examine the lock.
"Holmes, I see no signs that the lock was picked," said I. "In
addition, there are no marks on the jamb. I would guess that this door was left
open deliberately."
"Excellent, Watson," Holmes said, nodding sharply. "I
concur completely."
Holmes stepped up to the door and pushed it slowly inward. Seeing no one
within, we entered what was obviously the kitchen of the cottage. A wooden slab
table was flanked by two benches. On the tabletop stood three thick porcelain
bowls, with spoons beside each bowl and crude rustic mugs. The two larger bowls
held some type of hot cereal, while the smallest held only the residue of the
same cereal. Holmes sniffed at one of the bowls.
"Porridge," he pronounced. "A large bowl for the large
bear, a medium bowl for the female, and a small bowl for the cub."
"But Holmes, why should they leave their breakfast and go off into
the forest?"
Holmes narrowed his gaze, and then placed his hand on each of the bowls
in turn. "This large bowl is only now cool enough to eat. At the time that
the bears left, I surmise that all the bowls must have been too hot. No doubt
the walk was undertaken in order to allow their breakfast to cool."
"And the empty bowl?"
Holmes gave a slight smile. "Since, at the time of her visit, the
porridge must have been just right, I think that must be the work of our small
visitor. As is that broken chair."
I turned abruptly to view what he was describing. A small parlor opened
off the kitchen. It was sparsely furnished with but three chairs. One of these
was large and stiff, and another was a soft easy chair. But what was most
apparent was that a child’s wooden chair lay in pieces in one area by itself.
The sight was so startling that I gave a short exclamation as I noticed it.
Holmes’s smile grew broader. "Our little friend is clearly larger
than the cub, and not so graceful. Now, given that our burglar with the golden
curls entered and has not left, yet is nowhere to be seen, where might she have
concealed herself?"
He cast his eyes about the room, and then intensified his gaze. I
followed his look and noticed, for the first time, a stairway that led from the
far end of the parlor. Touching his forefinger to his lips, Holmes stole
forward on tiptoe, careful to place his feet on the carpeting of the room and,
while passing up the stairway itself, on the runner at the center of each step.
Thus, we crept upstairs until we gained a large and well-lit bed-chamber.
Immediately by the stair-head was a very large bed. Holmes pressed his hand
upon the covers and shook his head in dismissal. I followed his example and
found that this bed was too hard for all but the most sound sleeper. A second,
middle-sized, bed we examined likewise, finding it exceedingly and unpleasantly
too soft.
Holmes suddenly held one hand aloft and, at the same instant, I became
aware of a drowsy sigh proceeding from yet another bed in the room. This one
was smaller than the other two. From our angle of approach, it was impossible
to see who, or what, occupied this bed. Holmes stepped sideways stealthily,
then cocked his head to one side as he surveyed the scene. When I drew up
beside him, I saw what had so arrested his attention.
A young girl, perhaps eight or nine years old, lay asleep on the bed. Her
head, with the golden curls that Holmes had anticipated, rested upon the soft
white pillow, while her frame sprawled in the innocently awkward repose of
childhood slumber on the coverlet.
From long experience, I knew Holmes to be devoid of the tender emotions
so alien to his precise and analytical nature. Yet, as he contemplated the
sleeping child, I beheld on his face an expression of such kindly and gentle
regard that I could almost believe that I were looking at the girl's own dear
father, rather than at the renowned sleuth-hound of the law.
At this moment, the sound of pawsteps from downstairs, accompanied by
muffled voices, told us that the ursine residents of the cottage had returned
home. The girl started up from her sleep at the noises, and cast anxious
glances at Holmes and myself.
Holmes extended a calming hand and addressed her in low tones. "I
pray you not discommode yourself, young lady. I am Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and
this is my friend and colleague, Dr. John Watson." I bowed at the
introduction. "We shall be happy to act for you in this circumstance, Miss
– "
"Goldilocks," replied the young girl, sitting up.
"Of course," Holmes murmured. "I should have guessed. And
now, I believe we are about to meet our hosts."
During his brief interview with the young lady, we had heard snatches of
conversation from downstairs, as the bears discovered, in turn, the emptied
bowl of porridge and the broken chair. The tones of their outrage were
unmistakable. We now perceived their rapid footfalls as they ascended the
staircase.
I was glad, at that moment, that we were present to assist Goldilocks in
her encounter with the bears. Regardless of the equivocal position that she
found herself in as an uninvited occupant of their home, I have no doubt that
their sudden arrival and fearsome appearance would have frightened her most severely,
had not Holmes and I quickly interposed ourselves.
"Ah," said Holmes, as they stood glowering with anger about
their bed-chamber. "I believe I have the honor of addressing Papa Bear,
Mama Bear, and Baby Bear."
They stared at him, but made no reply. Holmes rapidly introduced us all,
at which Papa Bear lumbered across the room and gesticulated violently.
"What are you doing in our house?" he demanded gruffly.
"As to the manner of entry," Holmes continued, "I believe
that Miss Goldilocks made her way here with the intention of paying you a
social call. However, finding no one at home, and your door ajar, she undertook
to await your presence. We, in turn, were merely following her."
Vexed and unmollified, Papa Bear bellowed, "She ate our
porridge!"
Holmes gave a brief nod and said, "This is true. However, I submit
that, had she not done so, the porridge would have become too cold for
consumption by the time of your arrival, and you would have been obliged to
dispose of it in any event."
At this, Mama Bear declared, "She broke our chair!"
Holmes smiled. "That a guest should seek to sit in a chair is not an
outrageous act. That the selected chair should not be capable of accommodating
her frame is certainly not the fault of the young lady."
"But she's sleeping in my bed!" exclaimed Baby Bear.
"For which rest and repose she is, I am sure, immensely
grateful," Holmes replied. "And now, I believe that we shall
accompany our client to her home, where, I have no doubt, her presence will
have been missed by this time. I bid you good day."
With something of a flourish, he guided Goldilocks from the room. I still
recall the looks of bafflement upon the faces of the three bears as we left
them.
During the brief walk to the home of the young lady, Holmes remarked,
"A not uninstructive case, Watson. In certain features, it rather
resembles another adventure in the forest that you were kind enough to record
for me."
"Assuredly, Holmes," I agreed heartily. "The case
involving that wolf and the trio of diminutive pigs."
