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By the time she finished Running, the morning’s drizzle had turned into a steady downpour. Large, heavy drops slammed into buildings and people alike, and with one look at the miniature rivers running down the cobblestones, she skipped the courtyard to head straight for the canal. Jimmy would never let the others huddle in the courtyard on such a warm, wet day.
“Me! Throw me!”
As proven by the happy squeals audible well before she reached their spelunking spot. A relatively clean patch of canal with easy access and plenty of visibility to spot approaching barges, sloshing steps rounded the final corner to find William—Charles, she reminded herself—bouncing his excitement at the water’s edge. Jimmy cupped his hands, and she grinned as Charles flew several feet before landing with a splash. He popped up the next moment, his wide smile ignoring the hair in his eyes. Doris could not resist.
“Me next!”
Jimmy spun, then laughed. “You know I can’t throw you, Doris.”
“You sure?”
“We’re the same size, Doris. How would I throw you?”
She huffed and crossed her arms in a playful pout—a motion rewarded with a laugh from one of the littles. Being the spelunker had always been her favorite thing about bath days, but her twin would never be able to throw her, and their older brother was still at work. She pretended to push him into the canal but soon dropped the teasing. “I thought you had canal duty today?”
“I did.” He grinned as Timmy pulled himself out of the water for another round. “George offered to trade. Something about not wanting to throw a thousand pounds into the canal?” Amusement still shrugged as he sent Timmy flailing into the water. “I like overwatch more than the canal, anyway. The canal bottom is slimy.”
The canal bottom was always slimy. That made swimming more fun, but her twin had always hated touching even the bottom of the fountain. She picked George out of the sea of faces rather than reply.
He waved on seeing her, though only for a moment. Just as Jimmy threw the littles and watched for swimming problems, George’s job involved making sure none of the littles had a problem and sounding the warning for any incoming barges. She preferred canal duty over the endless line of littles wanting to fly.
And she wanted a bath. “Do you need help?”
He waved her off. “Go ahead. Arthur is supposed to take over in a few minutes. I know you’ve spent all day Running.” A glance noted her drenched outfit. “Can’t get much wetter.”
She snorted. The pouring rain had ended any hope of being dry hours ago. She had given up when the second downspout had emptied over her, and as soon as everyone returned home, she did not intend to leave again tonight.
Spelunking would always be fun, but spending the day in a downpour was decidedly not. Habit scanned the water once more even as she moved to jump.
“Let me know if—” Something caught her eye to cut the sentence short. She fought to focus on a shadow out of place, barely noticing Jimmy glance away from the littles.
“Doris?”
That looked like—
Jimmy moved to stand beside her, following her gaze to the lump some thirty feet up on the other side of the canal.
“Doris, what is it?”
A problem. That was a problem, but too many littles played between her and that lump, relying on George and Jimmy to signal if a barge needed their side of the canal. She could not leave them unguarded.
And she doubted she could help alone. One sharp whistle caught George’s attention and brought everyone back. With the boys helping them out of the water, she took a running step upstream and jumped. A choice word created a second splash behind her when Jimmy finally saw the lump as well.
“Is that a person?!”
Yes. Broken boards served as an unsteady raft for a person slowly drifting toward their swim spot. George quickly passed her to reach the raft’s other side, but the man never moved.
“Sir, can you hear me? Are you alright?”
Still nothing, but while the man seemed incredibly familiar, the jagged boards of a barge's keel keeping the man above water also prevented Doris from seeing more than a torn coat and bleeding knuckles. George and Jimmy each took a corner, and the three of them carefully pushed the unsteady raft towards the water’s edge. Arthur knelt to help them roll the man onto solid ground.
“Doctor!”
Only to reveal a familiar face—however bruised. McConnel mentioned help before he disappeared, but Doris hauled herself out of the canal and sprinted toward Baker Street.
The others could help the doctor or flag a Yarder, but with how slowly the canal’s current traveled, the doctor had been in the water for a while. Mr. Holmes would undoubtedly be searching the city by now.