Happy Birthday Doctor Who
By Maz McCoy
“I’m worried about Maz.”
Heyes looked up from the book he was reading. He sat on the bed, leaning back against two plump pillows, socked feet crossed at the ankle. “Why you worried?”
“She’s acting weird.”
“You’ve only just noticed?”
“Nothing.” He returned his attention to the book, Great Train Robberies of the Old West. He was going to write to the author and complain that the Devil’s Hole Gang had not been mentioned. At least he was on page 86 and there hadn’t been a mention of them so far.
“So what do you think?” Kid asked.
Heyes lowered the book once more. “How is she acting weird?”
Kid sat on the end of the bed. “Well, she showed me this photo of a man with grey hair and a white ruffled front shirt. You remember the one I wore when we were pretending that Clem and I were southern gentry?”
“Well, this guy’s shirt looked like that. Anyway Maz points to the photo and says ‘That’s my doctor’. But I know it’s not ‘cos we saw her doctor remember? He was that tall Nigerian guy? Nice man too.”
“I remember. Real polite.”
“Well, then why did Maz say this other man was her doctor?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then later she shows me a picture of another man and says ‘that’s the doctor too’ except it’s a completely different man. I asked her if this was the same guy and she said, yes.”
Heyes’ brow furrowed. “Does seem a bit odd.”
“She’s shown me three pictures of three different men and claimed they were all the same doctor. I’m really worried about her.”
“She has been working hard lately.”
“I know but this is really weird. One of the guys couldn’t be more than thirty one and Maz says he’s fifty.” Kid’s worried eyes met Heyes’. “She’s also forgotten the words to songs.”
“Yep. Keeps wandering around singing ‘Diddly dum, diddly dum, diddly dum, dum, then suddenly going whoooooo ooooooo.”
“Sure is odd, Kid.”
“I know. D’you think it’s her age?”
Heyes stood up fast. “Whoa! Kid. Do not mention her age! Under no circumstances mention her age.”
“Why not? She’s a woman and we know they go through stuff when they get to…well, to her age.”
“Kid, I like it here. It’s warm, well, one day in the summer it was. Maz has hundreds of books. I am learning so much about science and you are getting…Well, you know.” Kid smiled. “I don’t want to hafta leave. If you mention Maz’s age she could get mad. I don’t mean door slamming mad, I mean throw-us-out-of-the-house-with-nowhere-to-go-mad.”
“That bad huh?”
“That bad. Never, ever, mention to a woman of a certain age, that it might be her age.”
“Sheesh, I thought it was bad enough that we couldn’t ask if it was due to the date in her diary, now we gotta tred careful ‘cos of her age.”
“So what do we do about this doctor thing?”
Happy Birthday Doctor Who.
Jon Pertwee was my Doctor.