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About the Author: During the last two years, Boston native Gerard J Waggett has published three stories in "Mystery Magazine." Prior to concentrating on his fiction, Mr. Waggett published eleven books on soap operas. He currently teaches courses in first year writing, horror fiction, and graphic novels. This spring his two-part essay on the 1970s comic book "Tomb of Dracula" was featured on the website for sequart.com.
During our years together, Sherlock Holmes surprised me countless times, but he astonished me the afternoon he invited me to join him for the film programme at the Empire Theatre. He had just finished reading about it in the morning paper, and something in the article had piqued his interest. This piqued my curiosity because I had proposed similar outings in the past, museum exhibits and the like, only to be rebuffed with a list of what he considered more productive ways he could be spending his time.
In the first film we watched, a young boy was boxing a kangaroo. Because of Holmes’s propensity for the sport, I expected him to be somewhat amused. I had not, however, expected him to be mesmerized. Yet, there he sat, his eyes locked onto the screen. If he blinked, he did so while I wasn’t looking. It was like that with the film that followed and the one after that. He was even transfixed by the rather mundane scene of a young woman lighting and then blowing out a candle. When two seats opened up in the front row, he insisted that we relocate.
On our way home, I told Sherlock, “You certainly enjoyed yourself today.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied.
“You don’t need to say it,” I told him. “I saw you in there. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen.”
That fact he would concede. “It does not, however, mean that I was enjoying the experience.”
“Not even the boxing kangaroo?” I asked.
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