Introduction

“… Someday the true story might be told.”

A smile was brought unto the face of Jonathan Barson as he closed the book he had read for the past five months. He stretched his whole body like an office guy does after doing a lot of paper works. Finally, he has finished reading this long novel. Then he smiled again, looking at the book he is holding in his hands. Illustrated on the cover is a man in a long, brown polyester coat that is commonly seen during the Victorian era. But what sets him apart is the deerstalker worn on his head and a pipe on his mouth. Seated on a chair, his hands are folded, somewhat praying while his eyes closed. Jonathan sternly looked at it, wishing he was that man: the fictional hero he adored the most…

“Jonathan! How many times do I have to call you to get you out of your room for dinner?” a womanly voice called along with the sounds of clashes of spoons atop plates.

“Coming mom!”  He replied abruptly, getting back to reality. He put back the book on his desk and hurriedly went out of his room.

Jonathan went to the dining table facing his father, slicing his share of steak. He began putting some on his plate when his mother interrupted. “What’s in your room that’s keeping you from eating John?”

Oh, how he loved hearing her calling him that name.

“Let him be honey.” his father defended him.

“Yeah mom, let me be. You know, I was in some sort of mystery-packed adventure.” he said, winking at his dad which the old man understood what he wanted to say.

“Oh boys, I really can’t understand you!”, his mom replied as she went back to the sink, washing mountains of dishes.

Upon going to sleep, he once held the book he really treasured so much. He imagined all the adventures he had while reading it and there’s no other book that can give him that. He giggled by himself.

“Seemed very happy son?” He was startled by the voice but got comforted when he saw the face.

“Dad…” he called. “… I just finished reading the book you gave me.”

“I can see you’re having fun and you know what, I’m glad.”

His dad approached him to bed and took the book from his hand.

“This man…” he said, pointing on the illustration on the cover “… is my childhood hero. He never failed to amaze me and I really enjoy imagining my life to be like him. I want you to experience that and now I think you did.”

He tapped the boy’s head. Then finally Jonathan said, “I did Dad, and I want to be like him. To be the best detective I have ever known in my life.”

“But you have to know John, that he is just fiction. He never exists because he is too perfect to be.”

“I know dad, he will just stay in the pages of this book. Reading about his greatness is enough for me.”

His dad kissed his forehead, turned off the lights and bid a good night. As John wandered off to sleep he wished he can dream on being the hero he always wanted to be: Sherlock Holmes.