13 March 2017

Build Your Own Tardis?

When I was a child I used to visit an old hermit who lived up a mountain. Actually that’s not true (it was a cave) but it was the case that a friend of mine lived four doors up the road and he was a huge Doctor Who fan like me. Once we became mutally aware of our fanship, we used to play our own adventures though his younger sister always insisted on playing a dog called Bonnie rather than a proper companion. This of course meant she didn’t have to make up any lines and could be even more annoying than normal. So we had many an intergalactic adventure all within the space between four houses. This was great and everything until the day my friend announced he was going to build a Tardis.
Voila! Paint it blue and you wouldn't be able to see the difference

 Now you’re thinking perhaps that this would be some sort of balsa wood scale model to sit on a shelf or an intention to paint the doors of a cabinet blue as many people apparently did. No. His intention –stated with all the earnestness that only someone of that age can muster- was to actually build a real, working Tardis. One that would - yes - travel in time and space, be bigger on the inside than the outside and quite possibly even contain a hexagonal console and roundels. Well you have to credit him with ambition at least. He showed me his roughly sketched plans for this which to two children who knew nothing about science or credibilty looked vaguely scientific and credible.
It was never built in case you’re wondering. Or was it? The plans faded and soon after this we went up to bigger schools and life changed and I didn’t see him much more. To my knowledge not a nail was hammered nor a wire installed in service of this ambitious project. Or maybe it was...
Later I started thinking about this. His parents's house possessed the largest garage I have ever seen, properly renovated it would have made a decent bungalow or even a small community theatre. There was certainly plenty of space in which to construct a decent sized console in and what exactly was that odd material the outside was coated with? I've never seen anything quite like it. Maybe it was an unusual sealant which would render the building completely airtight? Or even completely vortex proof?
Years later when another family lived in the house I caught a glimpse of the back garden and that garage was nowhere to be seen almost as if it had dematerialised. There was no visible trace of it, nothing to suggest it was ever there.
So you never know, perhaps somewhere in the Universe, in the past or future, a garage is floating through time and space and maybe it’s occupant will re-materialise wearing an unfeasibly long scarf someday and declare; “You see- I did it! ” 
Actually he probably just moved to Leeds.

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